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icallhimjoey · 2 years ago

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To Have And To Scold

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your best friends are getting married, and who else can they ask to be their best man and maid of honour but you and Joe? It’s just that… you don’t really get along all that well, do you? At least, that’s what you think.

CW / disclaimer: sort of enemies to sort of lovers, slooow burn, language, rpf, fem!reader, smut, drinking

Author’s note: we made it girlies, it's time to get all the answers, but also time to say goodbye - it's been a JOURNEY and i apologise for how long this took me! Pls enjoy!

Wordcount: 6.7K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five- part six- part seven - part eight - part nine - part ten - epilogue

"You know I want to say it..." Joe said after a short silence.

"I know," you were well aware.

"Please let me say-"

"No."

It had been a week. Just a week. Joe wasn't allowed to say those words to you. He let them slip that night, had just blurted them out at the wedding, and you hadn't been able to swallow the words. Instead, they got lodged in your windpipe and had made you want to throw up.

"Please don't." you instructed, eyes trained on Joe's hand.

You felt Joe's eyes on you as he took a deep breath, settling on the understanding that you didn't want to hear them yet. You'd been playing with his hand for a little bit as you were both on your sides, heads buried into pillows and you'd already told Joe to go to sleep three times because you knew what time his alarm would go off the next morning.

But how could Joe sleep with you on your side of his bed, slowly tracing the lines of his palm with your fingers?

"Did you really think I hated you?"

Joe's question flushed you with a gentle wave of emotions. The delicate vulnerability and the sense of elation were the direct effect good sex had on you, which left you feeling you both physically and emotionally exposed. You could sob from looking anyone in the eye for a second too long right now, so coming in hot with a question that you knew Joe needed an honest answer to, did exactly that.

It contorted your whole face a second, crumpled it up into an ugly cry, breath held as your throat tensed to keep the sob inside because, yes you did. And it had always bothered you.

You had thought about it all week, kept going over interactions you'd had with Joe over the years and tried to puzzle it all into the narrative of Joe having a crush on you.

But it was difficult.

It didn't matter how many people helped you, how much Poppy tried to convince you that she didn't know Joe like this, that it had to be real. How much Mark tried to drill into you that he remembered how Joe looked at you the first time Mark and Poppy had forced you two to hang out together.

And it didn't matter that on some level you did understand. Understanding it in your brain and feeling it in your body were two vastly different things, after all.

So you nodded, because yes, you had honestly thought that Joe didn't like you. That he didn't want you in his life.

With eyes squeezed shut and your face screwed up you turned onto your back, trying to escape Joe's direct gaze a second. You felt how his hand that had laid relaxed in between you gripped onto yours for comfort.

Tears welled up fast, but you knew how to handle them.

You forced your face to relax, forced your eyes to open, forced your ribcage to expand and inhaled deeply. You held it there for a few seconds before you exhaled through your mouth and... you were fine.

Deep breaths always helped.

Turning back to Joe with your face relaxed, your expression smooth, all void of emotion, you found him looking at you with worry-filled eyes.

"You do that," not a question, just a statement about something Joe had noticed.

"What?"

"You stop it." Joe remembered how, several times, he'd seen you cry, and every time, you'd been able to stop it just as quickly as it had started. Maybe not as fast when you were drunk, but... still. This was some very advanced repressing of emotions.

Unclasping your hand from Joe's, you placed his hand back where it had laid before, in between the two of you, palm up, ready to get back into drawing lines over it with your fingers because that was just as soothing to you as it was to him.

"You'd rather have me cry?"

If Joe was honest, he did. He wondered how long it would take for you to be able to lose the tough exterior around him. Fully lose the whole I Can Take Care Of Myself facade. He felt that you had shed some layers already, but those were layers he'd put there himself. Joe now had to filter through neutral territory before you'd be able to let him in any further. To trust he did actually like you.

"I have never hated you," Joe whispered, and moved to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whispered back, fully focussed on Joe's hand again. Stroking. Tracing lines with delicate touch. Avoiding Joe's eye-contact, mostly.

"It's the opposite,"

"Joe," you warned, eyes shooting up a fraction of a second to meet his.

"I won't say it."

But Joe thought it. Felt the words in his bones, strengthening and weakening them at the same time. It was agony, but you'd told Joe it was only fair for him to say those words if it was in response to you saying them.

And it had only been a week.

A week.

A week since you'd made it downstairs and found the groomsmen, the bridesmaids, Poppy, and her dad, all ready and waiting for the ceremony to start. Mark was down by the altar, and the room was filled to the brim with people.

The groomsmen had been paired up with the bridesmaids to walk down the aisle; ladies on the left, men on the right. Which was funny, because that meant that you and Joe would have to cross paths at the end to go stand in your correct groups and you knew it'd get a soft chuckle from everyone there.

When you and Joe lined up at the end, in front of Poppy and her dad, she had been on your immediately. Tried to be subtle, but asked all sorts of questions. She very obviously tried to make the two of you confess you'd been hiding in a coat closet together, but you didn't budge. Kept straight faces. Told Poppy she looked beautiful in her dress. Smiled at her dad, who had no idea what was going on, but was polite and tried to calm his daughter. He even shushed her a little, which made you and Joe look each other as deftly as you could as you tried to hide smiles before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.

During the ceremony, your mind was swirling. Going a million miles an hour. You were stood behind Mark, who looked at Poppy, and behind Poppy was Joe. You had your eyes locked at the back of Mark's suit, able to see Joe in your peripheral vision just over his shoulder behind Poppy, and you were meant to follow the ceremony. Listen to the officiant's whole official shpiel. Listen to Mark and Poppy's heartfelt vows. But your mind was elsewhere.

Convinced that, in hindsight, you should have somehow known of Joe's crush, you were stumped to realise that you hadn't. Not even a little bit.

Poppy had said he'd been in love – like, actual love for 'fucking ages' and... bitch, where?

Mentally you were so far removed from what was happening around you that, when the officiant asked for the rings, you had to be pulled from your thoughts by a loud scrape of Mark's throat.

"Wha- rings! Rings. Yes. I've got the rings."

And Joe pressed his lips together, bit them into his mouth to hide a smile as you handed over the little red box.

Whilst you'd been staring at Mark's back, sort of frowning in thought, Joe had been eyeing you. He could see how your eyes were sort of glazed over, all out of focus, and he couldn't help but blame himself for you missing it. You were missing your best friend getting married to his best friend because you were all zoned out, and he predicted he was responsible for it. Sensed how being forced to stand still and in silence for a long time probably wasn't helping his situation.

It gave you time to go over what had just happened.

What you had just learnt.

And fuck. Joe was going to have to answer to a lot, probably.

When it was time to follow Poppy and Mark out, all the way down the aisle and out of the room with everyone stood up and clapping, Joe smiled and nodded at the people he walked past but said, "All right, ask away,"

And as you smiled and nodded at the people on your side of the aisle, you said, "Where do I even start?"

The fact that you were convinced Joe had never really liked you was probably the right place to start.

But you were at a wedding.

And you were in the bridal party.

This was hardly the place or the time for a serious conversation, to ask all the tough questions you had on your mind. Yet, it was the only thing on your mind. Couldn't think of anything else. It just kept wandering there, and it didn't really help that Joe was there the whole time, reminding you of all of it.

Things grew complicated in your head. Things tangled and twisted until you couldn't undo the knots.

You kind of wished you were back in that coat closet again. Where it was dark, and hot, and where no one else could see or hear you kiss, and touch, and pant into each other's mouths.

But you were at a wedding.

So. You found moments to steal.

A couple of seconds here and there to stand close enough to Joe for you to sneak out an accusation. Something Joe would have to answer for, and he'd have to be quick, because it couldn't look like you were actually talking, could it?

The day was about Poppy and Mark.

The newly weds.

You were the best man and the maid of honour. Still had jobs to do.

So you hid in plain sight. Got your questions out and had Joe answer them as fast as he could.

During cocktail hour, there were photographs taken outside in the courtyard. The whole bridal party got involved, both sets of parents too, and it was a lot of posing in various groups.

When you and Joe were stood off to the side, both looking at whoever was next to pose next to Mark and Poppy, you stole the moment.

"You don't like me..." you said, loud enough for just Joe to hear. You weren't even looking at each other, but Joe knew you were talking to him.

"I do like you... I had to make you think that I didn't,"

"Well," you inhaled sharply. "You're a fantastic actor."

Had it been anyone else saying that under any other circumstance, it was the best compliment Joe could wish for. But this, right now, coming from you? It stung.

"I couldn't have– there's so many reasons, all stupid, I assure you, but I couldn't– Poppy would, well, I thought Poppy would never have–"

Joe didn't get to finish his sentence. The photographer called you over, wanted you to pose with Mark and the other groomsmen and you didn't hesitate to walk away. Didn't let on you were listening to what Joe was saying.

The next moment you found was just before the bridal party was to enter the venue where everyone had just sat down for dinner.

"The framed photo you cropped me out of," you stated flatly, eyes up ahead.

"Folded photo," Joe corrected you, and you snapped your head to look at him, all bewildered, because what the fuck?

"I folded that. I wanted to frame the full thing, but I couldn't. You were off-limits. But you were there.... just, hidden, at the back of it,"

You were introduced, and had to snap out of it quickly. Faces open and joyful because you were at a wedding and tonight was going to be fun.

You found your seats and looked at each other when you saw the name cards placed next to each other. You'd seen the seating chart beforehand, and the two of you had not been sat together according to earlier made plans.

Poppy.

Fucking Poppy and her stupid meddling.

It gave Joe a chance to explain more as the newly weds entered, and applause thundered before they started their first dance. With the both of you turned in your seats to watch you best friends sway in each other's arms, Joe got to talk.

Joe explained how he couldn't have given himself a finger, because he would've gone and grabbed for the full hand.

Joe told you how it was all a thing of self-deprivation, and that Poppy had been right when she said Joe had had feelings for you for a while.

Joe was no longer hiding anything. He no longer cared about keeping secrets. All the initial thoughts, the first things that would pop into his brain, it all came spilling out. Quietly, and rambly, but it was all there for you to soak up.

The misplaced jokes. The walking you home. The silent message Mark had sent him with a single shake of his head. The chats he had with Poppy about her insecurities that always included you. The shirt and tie and dress shoes he wore in his own house. The shared gelato, "I was crossing a line there, scolded myself for days after," Joe said, and you didn't think that was true. That was the first time Joe'd been slightly normal. The first time you felt you'd had a normal chat, had both felt brave enough to apologise to each other, and hadn't been hindered by adverse winds.

The dance ended, people clapped and after a small welcome toast, everyone turned in their seats and the first dinner course was served.

Joe glanced at you from the corner of his eye and leant into you a little, indicating he was listening - waiting for your reaction to all of it.

"You're a weirdo," you said into your glass of wine right before taking a sip, and Joe smirked, because, yea, he really fucking was a weirdo.

For a while you fell in conversation with others at the table. The evening flowed from the first course to the main, after which Poppy's dad gave a toast. Cute words for the newly weds, honorary mentions of the female best man and the male maid of honour that got a laugh from the room, and then, you and Joe got to do your speeches.

Throughout Joe's speech, Poppy cried into the napkin that Mark dabbed at her face before she took it from him. Throughout yours, you could barely hold it together yourself and it made Mark get up to come and hug you. You finished the speech together as Mark held you and Poppy filmed you with her phone. Mark read along with an arm wrapped around you as you stuttered meaningful words into the microphone, both of you sniffling, crying messes.

You loved Mark.

And Mark had gotten married to the best girl.

When applause filled the room again, and every single female relative of Mark over the age of 45 had awed at the two of you, you rushed over to hug Poppy.

You loved Poppy too, almost just the same. So you told her, spoke it into her hair, and it made her hug you tighter. Poppy hummed, and you expected her to say it back. Instead, she softly said, "We heard you in that closet," which squeezed a laugh right out of you and you scrunched noses at each other as you pulled back.

"You've got to tell me everything," Poppy said.

For a second you thought of denying it all. Considered pretending that you had no idea what she was talking about. But she looked so excited, all giddy at the prospect of you and Joe in a coat closet together. All she really knew was that you and Joe had kissed a couple weeks ago, and that Joe had done something that had upset you - that was it, no more details, at least that you were aware of.

"You stole the fucking rings from me," you said, and it confirmed enough, making Poppy squeal as she dug her fingers into your arms.

"So you made up? Are you okay?"

"Definitely still angry,"

"My God, what did his stupi–"

"Pop," Mark interrupted, and you thought it was because she was interfering. Like it was Mark's way of helping you out, because this was hardly something you were going to get into right now. Maybe even ever. But when you both looked at Mark, he pointed behind you at Poppy's father, because it was time for the father-daughter dance and it wasn't time to get worked up over something Joe had done a couple weeks ago when you had kissed him. Obviously.

You took Poppy's seat and sat next to Mark as you watched Poppy dance with her father, and it was weirdly emotional. It made your throat swell and hurt, but you managed to keep it all in there.

"So, was Poppy right, then?" Mark suddenly asked.

You blinked at him a second.

"About you and Joe?"

Mark's face gave away nothing about his intent, so you figured he just wanted to know. No judgment.

"I had the rings, didn't I?" was all you said, a small smile playing on your face as your crossed leg swung under the table. A slow grin grew over Mark's face as he frowned.

"The fuck you not telling me shit for? How long as this been going on?"

All you managed was a huffed laugh as your eyes found Mark's mother coming up behind him, and you smacked his shoulder before saying, "Is there not a mother-son dance that you're meant to be a part of?"

You knew it hadn't been scheduled in.

But you also knew what Mark's mother was like.

Seconds later, Mark and his mum joined Poppy and her dad and you leant your head into both of your hands, elbows resting up on the table and across the floor, you saw Joe.

He was also watching his friends, head perched on his fist as he leant an arm on the back of his chair.

Joe's real pretty, you thought. Did he look different to you now that you knew?

Yea.

Kind of.

Wait. He really kind of did.

Looked less like a distant, arrogant prick, maybe. Or perhaps he looked the same, but it was you who was seeing him in a different light now.

Joe must have felt your eyes on him, because you saw him shift uncomfortably in his seat and look around before his eyes found you. Joe looked right back at you, held your gaze, and for a moment you both had your heads resting on your hands and just... stared. Just admired. Looked right at each other, across the full length of the dance floor.

You were waiting for a smile to break across his face, but it never came. You thought maybe your mind should've been swirling with thoughts, but, it was eerily quiet up there. Just... look at him.

That man was in love with you?

Wild, honestly.

A visual deep breath from you got Joe to nod his head up at you, a small little raise of his chin, his eyes two big questionmarks, and he meant, what's up? You all right?

All you could really do was shrug as you shook your head a little, a small defeated smile below pinched eyebrows, and you meant, what the fuck are we going to do?

The song ended, people clapped, and then more people joined in to dance.

You kept eyes on each other, both skilled at keeping them trained in the exact right spot, no matter how many people broke the line of contact with their dancing bodies.

That was, until Poppy and Mark slid into your vision - not quite enough to make you break eye-contact, but enough to lean over and look from you, over to Joe, back to you again with shit-eating grins upon their faces.

They'd seen you look at each other and needed you to know that they had seen.

Mark made a face at you that made you want to punch him too hard on that divot between his bicep and tricep, where you could hit him right on a nerve.

Poppy started beckoning the both of you, wide arms waving for the both of you to meet on the dance floor, but before you could even properly think of how to react, the cake cutting was announced.

And Mark and Poppy were little shits.

Made you and Joe stand next to them, each holding a small glass plate, beautiful crystal, ready for them to cut two pieces of cake that they would feed each other and then you'd be ready to collect whatever chunks would be left in their hands.

You remembered how Poppy had been adamant, "If you smear any cake anywhere I'm immediately divorcing you, that's so fucking tacky," and Mark had laughed and argued that he the thought of pushing cake into her face hadn't even crossed his mind.

And Mark loved Poppy, and she trusted him. So there was no hesitation as they fed each other bites from larger chunks of cake that they held in their hands. And you were so ready with your little plate. So ready to be a good best man to Mark, to help him out, had a napkin in the other hand for him to wipe his hand on too.

Cameras flashed, people got pictures and videos of Poppy and Mark feeding each other and thank fuck, it was a clean ordeal. Just two small bites. No mess. Fantastic. Exactly what Poppy wanted.

But Mark and Poppy were little shits and they got you fast.

You and Joe ended up with cake smeared all over. There were shrieks and there was loud laughter and more cameras flashed, and there was buttercream in your eye, and you inhaled vanilla frosting way up into your nose which hurt. Marks hands got cake all over your face, and when he stopped to loudly laugh at his work, through a squinty eye you saw how Poppy got Joe worse.

Joe had cake all over his face, up in his hair and even down his suit.

"Poppy, stop! This is Gucci!" Joe cried out and it made you want to roll your eyes at him. Of course it was Gucci.

The napkin you'd been holding was about to wipe at your face, but Mark stopped you and pulled you in for a group shot with the four of you; you and Joe pushed together into the center, Mark and Poppy either side. Mark squished your cheeks with his one dirty cake hand and Poppy used hers to push against the side of Joe's head. It knocked his head nearly into yours and with the flash of the camera, both Mark and Poppy stepped away. Disappeared from your sides fast. Probably scared you were going to get them back.

And, oh man, you absolutely were going to get them back.

Later, though.

When they'd least expect it. Maybe do something dumb to their house whilst they were away on their honeymoon - you'd think of something.

"We should get new friends," Joe commented, gesturing for you to turn. Universal sign for, come on, follow me, to make it over to the bathrooms to get cleaned up.

"What do you mean? These ones fed us cake!" You joked, trying to pick icing from you eyelashes as you walked and it made Joe halt and drop his face at you.

"She missed my mouth!" he said pointedly, and you laughed as you pushed the swing door to the toilets before stepping inside. You blamed the sudden sense of privacy as you were no longer under the watchful eye of your best friends for what you said next.

"Impressive, that's a difficult mouth to miss,"

Joe narrowed his eyes at you as he studied your face. Your posture. It made him twitch inside his trousers. Was this going to go where he thought it might go?

Then, in the low light of the swanky dark hotel bathroom you were in, you reached a hand over and wiped a thumb across Joe's cheek all the way to the corner of his mouth. It pulled at his lips as you flicked it, scooping up buttercream and bits of cake from his face in between your index finger and thumb that you then brought to your mouth.

Yes, Joe thought. This was absolutely going to go where he thought it might go, and looking at you sucking your digits clean made him audibly groan.

Joe dropped his head and had to focus on breathing.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Deep breaths always helped.

Except, not really. Not this time, anyway. Why was the image of you covered in wedding cake making his dick hard?

Joe had to use a clean hand to adjust himself in his trousers. You saw.

"Yea? You want to finish what you started?" you smirked, eyes twinkling.

And Joe couldn't fucking believe what he was hearing. His eyebrows shot up, and he immediately tried to reason, "There's cake all over this Gucci suit," but he was already leaning in, fingers reaching for your mouth, his body fully betraying him, because how could it decline the invitation?

Joe's kisses tasted like wedding cake. Sickly sweet, vanilla and white chocolate, all sticky and... distant. Joe was leaning over as much as he could, kept his body as far away as possible whilst still making sure his mouth got want it wanted from you.

Joe was trying to stay clean and you weren't having it. It made you pull at him, and it made him lose his jacket.

It was gross, and you had to breathe through your mouth because there was cake up in your nose, but you kind of loved it and started pushing Joe back into a stall.

Joe let you, locking the door behind you before he continued, and you knew posh little clean pristine Joey probably had thoughts and opinions about getting dirty in the toilets of a hotel, swanky or not. But then Joe said, "This cake tastes good," when he licked some off your face and followed up with, "Best way to taste test," whilst you started gathering the fabric of your dress at the hips, slowly inching it upwards.

And like you had asked of him, Joe finished what he started in your kitchen a couple of weeks ago.

Got his big hands, those thick fingers, in all the places you wanted them. Got his mouth there too – he had to, couldn't stop himself. Got frosting all over your neck and all up between your thighs and it was the exact opposite of what you had come in there to do.

Joe had you whimpering and moaning when he eventually slid inside you, face to face this time, pressed up against the stall door, no more distance, and fuck, this was so much better.

You weren't exactly quiet, so he tried to stifle the noises escaping you by scooping frosting from your face into your mouth, which made you laugh, which in turn made him growl, "Oh my God, shit," because that felt fucking amazing.

You had to stop momentarily when you heard someone come in. Had to freeze on the spot, Joe deep inside you, big eyes looking at each other, and it felt a little like you were back in that coat closet. Too close to each other. Barely breathing. Hiding.

It just turned you on more.

Whoever had walked in muttered something about Joe's suit jacket that was on the floor, picked it up and then walked out with it. Presumably to go and find him. Was that Mark?

"Quick," you whispered, not wanting to get caught, and Joe said, "All right, yea, laugh again, come on," which wasn't a joke, but it still made you laugh.

Walking back into the wedding, wiped clean of all the wedding cake and with absolutely nothing running down your inner thighs, you realised you'd missed the bouquet toss. You didn't mind, but you knew you were probably going to get some shit from Poppy for it later.

To remain as unsuspicious as you could, Joe entered half a minute later but then immediately got you a drink, and came to stand beside you. You watched the dance floor for a second, both with drinks in hand, both not sure what to do or what to even say to each other.

What the fuck was your life right now?

Two sudden heavy hands landed on your shoulders, and it was Mark, startling you before he pulled you onto the dance floor with him. You were only just able to quickly pass your glass to Joe who swiftly took it from you before you disappeared into the crowd of dancing couples.

You expected Mark to mention it.

To at least say something about it.

But then he didn't, and you fucking loved him for it.

This is why you and Mark were the friends that you were. Anyone else would've said something, would've commented, joked, would have poked fun.

Not Mark.

Mark just wanted to dance with his best friend, his best man, at his wedding and you could tell he was well on his way to getting drunk because his eyes were half the size they usually were.

"I know I always say that you don't deserve Poppy, because she's too good for you,"

"She is," Mark agreed and smiled at you.

"No, I was wrong. I think you're the perfect fit. Exactly right for each other,"

You saw Mark look over your shoulder, and his eyes went all droopy and lovesick. You knew he had to be looking at Poppy.

His wife.

A quick check proved you right, and you saw Poppy dance with Joe and fuck. Why was Joe looking at her like that? All soft and sweet, like he was the one who had just married her instead of Mark?

In a flash you realised it. And...

Oh no.

Envy.

That was envy?! Shit. Had that been envy this whole fucking time?!

"What's up?" Mark asked, a little confused at what he'd just seen across your face.

"Nothing," you were quick, tried to hide all of it with a smile.

"What?" Mark persisted and you sighed, all deep and heavy, turning back to look at Joe who was still looking at Poppy like the sun shone out of her ass as they slowly swayed to the music together.

"No, it's... it's not– why does he look at her like that?"

Mark blinked at you.

"Sorry?"

"No, never mind, it's stupid, let's not–" you backtracked immediately.

"Oh my God," Mark exclaimed and then laughed loudly, head thrown back before he let it slump forward.

"I might as well have fucking married you today, what the actual fuck, you're– it is true! You and Poppy are literally the same person, it's so– this is so creepy!"

And yes, okay, it was a little creepy that, when Mark and Poppy had just started dating, Poppy apparently had asked Mark about why he would look at you like you were the reason he was even alive to begin with. Mark told you she would still sometimes bring it up when they argued, and Mark would always say, "I don't know! I love her! I can't help what my eyes do!" and Poppy would shout, "That's weird Mark, I am your girlfriend!"

It humbled you real fast.

It had never occurred to you what you and Mark looked like when you communicated with just looks. With eyes and subtle facial changes and this stupid spark of jealousy, which you now recognised was exactly what that was, made you want to go hug Poppy.

So that's what you did.

You took rushed steps and then pried yourself in between Joe and Poppy to hug her.

"My girls," you heard Mark say, but he was quick to correct himself and followed it up with, "Our girls."

Made you want to give him a black eye.

But then Poppy mused, "Our boys." and it kind of felt exactly right.

"My wife," Mark continued, using the offensive Borat accent, and Poppy replied, "My husband," in a Russian accent, the h pronounced as a hard g, because why not. Before you knew it they were making out all gross again, like they had down at the bar where you'd met after the hen do and stag do.

"Yeaaa, why not?" Joe said under his breath, nose all scrunched up.

"You said something about getting new friends?" you joked, and it made Mark find the side of your head to push you away. You laughed as you nearly lost your balance, and Joe laughed as he reached out both arms to make sure that you didn't.

"Come on, let's dance,"

And it was all fun and games getting Joe to make you come on his mouth in a toilet stall before he railed you, but you still had questions. Were still mad for him leaving you in your kitchen without explanation.

Learning that Joe had been having feelings for you just confused you more.

So you danced as you held onto each other because that's how everyone else was dancing, and you decided the moment was another one for you to steal.

"Why did you leave that night?"

Joe took in your question and slowly inhaled through flared nostrils.

"You just walked right out,"

It was the worst thing he could've ever done and he was an idiot, Joe agreed. Good, you thought. At least you were on the same page about it. Joe revealed how learning of how you and Mark had become friends had thrown him for a loop, because there he was, head over heels and finally getting to know you better. Spending more time with you. Granting himself normal human interactions that he hadn't been able to afford himself before you'd been given this job together. And then there you were, telling him how traumatic it had been that guys always seemed to want more from you.

More.

Like Joe wanted more.

Joe couldn't be one of those guys. Didn't want to add to your hurt. And you were also both drunk, and had been shouting at each other in a bar, and that wasn't how he had wanted any of that to go. But, he was still an idiot, and he should have never left.

You nodded and agreed.

"Yes, you are an idiot, and you should have never left... but that's also weirdly considerate,"

"Well, you have been calling me weird behind my back a lot, or so I've heard,"

Big sigh.

Mark and Poppy were not to be trusted.

"Listen…" you chose to ignore what Joe'd just accused you of. "I feel very tender about little teenage me. Fourteen-year-old me felt a lot, did everything with all of her feelings. Went through life feelings first, thoughts second. Out of everyone, out of everything, she makes me cry the most… but I’m not her. Not anymore. I’ve not been her in over a decade, I’m not– I'm not fragile like that anymore, I’m tough now!"

The way Joe had been looking at you as you talked was the same way he'd always look at Poppy... but, times twenty.

Head tilted to the side, eyes half-lidded, a slow smile pulling at his cheeks – and, all right, if this was the type of shit Joe had done his best to hide from you all this time, why he made sure to stay unapproachable and cold, you kind of understood.

"Okay," was all Joe said through a wide smile.

"Okay?"

"Yea. Okay."

So, it was okay.

And when Poppy and Mark passed you, she peeked over Joe's shoulder and asked you again, "Did he apologise? Are you all good now?" and by ways of answering her, you bit into Joe's shoulder. It meant, not entirely. Not yet. But I think we will be.

It made Joe chuckle and pull you close, taking your face into his hands and pressing slow kisses onto each one of your eyelids. It nearly made your knees buckle, and that's when he said it.

Blurted it right out.

Soft enough for only you to hear, but somehow still threateningly loud, because the words rung in your ears.

"I love you."

It hitched your breath immediately.

"No, that's too soon,"

"It's been years,"

Yea, for Joe, maybe. But it had only been, what, eight hours for you. You agreed then and there that if you were going to do this, you were going to do this slow.

Do things slow to get them right.

Like normal people would do.

And sure, normal people wouldn't have the same starting point the two of you had, but it was whatever. Joe could pretend. You told Joe to ignore how he'd just eaten you out whilst you were both covered in cake and got him all flustered as he shushed you, afraid people would hear.

You said Joe could think crazy things. Things like I love you and that, but he couldn't actually say it. Not out loud anyway. Not for you to hear. You didn't care what he told Poppy about you. That was none of your business.

Yes.

You were going to do this sensibly, astutely and normally.

But, then, you weren't really normal people, were you?

Because all throughout that first week, in just those seven days, there had been moments where you'd thought those words too.

When you'd been on your way out on Tuesday morning after staying the night, and had to walk past Joe who was putting that picture of him and Poppy back up in his hallway, except now a new larger frame held the unfolded version that had you and Mark in as well.

And then again when you'd come over on Thursday for dinner, and Joe opened the door in blue jeans, bare feet and a white T-shirt that had a hole just below the collar.

A hole.

You thought you'd never see the day.

And then a couple of hours ago, when you'd been over at Mark and Poppy's for drinks, and they'd pulled out a game to play. It was you and Mark against Poppy and Joe, and whereas Mark and Poppy got ruthlessly competitive, you noticed Joe was doing everything in his power to sabotage the game, making you win.

It's just that you'd decided you weren't just going to blurt it out willy nilly, all haphazardly. Especially not after Joe got you all comfortable in his bed, massaged your shoulders, your back, your legs and then your ass before he'd undressed you fully and made you feel like you were the most important thing in his life right now.

No.

You were keeping those words in for a stupid moment.

Like when you'd catch him digging dirt from under his fingernails whilst trying to be all sly about it.

Or when he'd pretend he didn't mind that you left his kitchen all dirty, but then casually went to clean the entire room straight away.

Or when he'd wake up in a panic when he slept through an alarm, knowing that if you'd say it then, it'd only make him later to whatever he was already late for.

You didn't know. But you'd think of something.

And you were lucky, because there was something grounding, something very secure about knowing that the person who you would say it to wouldn't hesitate to say it back. Would probably repeat it a thousand times then if he could. Kiss you on your eyelids again to make you swoon.

Joe fell asleep that night with you on your side of his bed and you played with his hand until you heard soft snores beside you. What had been so weird before had grown to be just right in the span of just a few days.

And it was all right.

Because Joe was in love with you, and you were in love with Joe.

And that was all that mattered.

the end

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @mybffjoe @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(taglist currently full, sorry)

#Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #rpf #icallhimjoey #To Have And To Scold #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #epilogue #part 11

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tapwater118 · 6 months ago

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pinned post jumpscare blauughh

pronouns.cc | strawpage

hiya i’m flower!

i'm plural i think. i (the host) also go by golf ball, GB, box, gaty, maddie, tap water, tap, captain coinpin (<- silly), etc. queer person on the internet with too many names, check

collectively tap/tap water, she/they, 21 y.o. (individual names/pronouns can be found in the pronouns.cc)

fictkin with a bunch of weird blorbos (if you couldn’t tell from the first part)

i like various things and then will proceed to draw them. big fat bfdi/osc special interest mostly (i am a huge multishipper (based) btw so erm yeah)

feel free to use my art and such as pfps/banners/whatever, just give credit pls

let the record show that i am bad at using social media so uh i am probably a terrible mutual sorry in advance

also if i like over explain something to you please do not take it as a slight against you, i am just autistic (as if it wasn’t obvious)

if ya wanna know more, feel free to shoot up the ask box or dms, i love answering questions. i also like taking requests over asks! just note that it may be some time before i get around to your request

(regarding dms, please come in with something more than ‘hi’. i’m not comfortable initiating conversation with someone im not familiar with.)

(also don’t flirt with me. you don’t have a rat’s chance)

strawpage stuff and other incoherent ramblings are over at @taps-other-blog so look there!

if you ship and/or support adult/minor, incest, zoo, etc get tf away from me ewwwwww nasty

things you’ll probably see me blabber about/draw at some point:

object shows (particularly bfdi, but i also fw inanimate insanity, hfjone, boto, animatic battle, team room 125, orb, burner, object kerfuffle, love of the s*n, ppt2, itft, and others im probably forgetting) (oh and idfb fear garden tee hee)

mario

kirby

pikmin

undertale/deltarune

pizza tower

fnf

homestuck

fnaf

petscop

horror stuff in general

regretevator

to be expanded once i remember more stuff

(art may be suggestively crude in humor but never nsfw)

(also if you ask i can always add tags to stuff if you have something in particular you want to mute, i dont mind)

i am working on some cool projects i think you should check them out because they are cool:

Occasionally Coinpin: hosted over at @occasionallycoinpin. posting coinpin, occasionally (the main reason you don’t see coinpin content here all that often)

Book Askblog: hosted at @twotonedhardcover, where i pretend to be a gay little novel for shits and giggles

Battle for Hopes and Dreams: a bfdi x undertale au that puts the characters of bfdi in the world of undertale. tagged as “#battle for hopes and dreams”

Competition for Fantasy Retreat: a bfdi swap au that swaps characters’ compositions and parts of their personalities. tagged as “#competition for fantasy retreat”

BfDI 1990: an unfiction reimagining of bfdi as an NES game from 1990. tagged as “#BfDI1990” (unreality content warning for this). please note that this is NOT an ARG, there is no game or puzzle to be solved, it is simply unfiction

Tap’s BFDI D-Side: a bfdi d-side take, where characters’ designs and personalities are remixed for something new and refreshing! (based on fnf d-sides obviously) tagged as “#tap’s bfdi d side”

BFDI Redux: a hypothetical bfdi season 6, featuring many of the tpot rejects as well as underutilized veterans. tagged as “#bfdi redux”

OSC horror content: i like turning the silly blorbos into fucked up evil creatures. general tag is “#FLApasta” but each story has its own separate tag (general content warning for these)

other tags i’ll use frequently i think:

“#asks” all the crud that ends up in my inbox and also some very nice things. it is a mystery

“#yap fest” for general inane ramblings. i say some very stupid things

“#ultra yap fest” for long posts, including rants and character analyses

“#slop tier post” art and other things that are generally below a certain threshold of quality i hold for myself. i’m probably too harsh on myself but oh well

“#word salad yummy yummy” fanfic stuff. im on ao3 and wattpad if ya didnt know

“#top tier post” “#all the day every day” “#one for the ages” posts that i really really like. usually from moots

“#literally me” fictkin id posts. you get it. no you don’t. i don't get it either

“#oiny” wife

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athemarina · 1 year ago

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writeblr comeback!! (for real this time!!)

hello (again), marina here! i am back from another long break, and this time i am determined to rejoin the writeblr community properly, because i really truly missed it here!

it's been a couple months since i've been here, and there have been a couple of changes in my life and to the way i want to run this blog, so i thought i'd give an update to anyone who might still remember me and maybe get to know some new writers! <3

who am i?

i am marina/mina, 27, from austria. i've been on writeblr for quite some time now, but had to take a break due to work and uni being really demanding, and also my personal life kinda falling apart lol. but i've realised once more that writing is one of the things that give my life meaning and stability, and i want and need to reconnect with it.

i work full-time and am still finishing up my degree, so i'm quite a busy bee. nevertheless, with uni summer break just around the corner, i want to spend more time writing and finding inspiration here!

some random interests of mine: philosophy, linguistics, the beauty of greece, musicals, folk songs and folklore, horses, and formula 1. what a list.

what do i write?

i have put all of my previous wip on hold because i had no time to work on them at all the last few months. right now i am in the worldbuilding phase of a new fantasy story (it takes some elements from children of the king but will go in quite a different direction! there's robots in it now!!) i want to take working on this new wip really really slow though. i've spent the last couple months feeling horribly burnt out and don't want to push myself around so much anymore. so while a proper intro post will have to wait for a bit, i'll still share some of the stuff that's floating around in my head and can't wait to get to know other people's wips again!!

i want to try my hand at writing poetry and flash fiction! it's not something i've dabbled with a lot in the past, but i really want to expand my horizons!

i have read quite a lot this year and would like to share some reviews / media analysis as well!

things i love to write and read....

all kinds of fantasy, anything that includes vampires, grief and healing and not-healing from it, characters who make all the wrong choices, questions of identity, queerness, and love.

if any of that vibes with you, let's be friends pls!!

i'd love to be part of the community again, and i love talking about reading / writing / just about anything so pls never hesitate to send me a message if you wanna chat <3 i also love to do tag and ask games, but it might take me a while to get to it!

thank you for reading, and thank you all for being such a lovely community here! i'm back babyyyy

#hello!! it's really me!! i am back!! (and very sorry it took so long but life has been Messy)#since it's been literal months and a lot has changed i thought i'd update my writeblr intro a bit #for everyone who still knows me and hopefully some new faces too!#i'm very happy to be back again!#writeblr intro #writers on tumblr #writing community

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kavalyera · 5 months ago

Note

How do you write John Wick analyses? There are many things you pointed out that I definitely wouldn’t have been able to find myself😅

I notice things because I just like to observe or I realize something way after I’ve watched a movie and then go back to watch that scene/moment again. I admit, no one really decides to check the other details in John Wick films since it’s mostly regarded as an action fest with a confusing story and that’s valid and all. I won’t really be mad if a person doesn’t notice the speck of dust on John’s suit that appears for like 0.0005 seconds while he’s throwing a man over his shoulder.

All of my analyses are just things I notice and then expand upon using theories and just plain out observing people. Of course, body language analyses are there (check this Santino analysis by my friend @bluelolblue )

Details are provided to me by friends, or just random people in YouTube comment sections whenever they post bits of John Wick movies in shorts, and also the god wretched chamber that is r/JohnWick. I mean it’s not really that bad, I just don’t like how they slander my favs and they’re also misogynistic so..

Realized this was getting too long so yeah let me answer your question as a summary plus other things.

I look at details and questions raised and I rip the movies apart finding an answer or something that satiates my hunger when it comes to John Wick lore!!!! When it comes to character analysis, I look at their body language, what their actor says, what Chad Stahelski says, their fashion(yes I know), and also bits of lore when it comes to their backstory and how it correlates to who they are now.

Anyways if you wanna know more about the movies and want to discuss theories and basically anything John Wick my inbox is always open !! :3 give me your John Wick theories I’d love to read them please please please please please please please please please pl

#john wick #wickblr #marquis asks #IM FINALLY NO LONGER GETTING DISCOURSE ASKS IM FREE #long post

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lezarus · 4 months ago

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hello! i have a question about your video editing process if you don’t mind :3 you’ve mentioned using imovie right? do you have to like, insert your clips along the audio track in the order you want them to appear in?

i ask bc i’ve been wanting to get back into video editing, but i’ve found the inability to freely place clips along the audio to be a big turn off from imovie, which is what i’m primarily used to using.

basically is that something you just have to deal with or am i totally missing some basic functionality of the program? tyvm and sorry if this is confusingly worded lol

as far as im aware its just one of those things that you cant do. which is rly annoying. the way ive found to get around it is either by inserting a picture into the timeline (i usually just use a black image so i know where the space begins and ends) and editing around that or ok ill try to explain this i hope it makes sense: ill import two clips from another project at the same time which have a clip in the middle and this creates a ‘gap’ clip which is blank that you can use in place of a clip. so for example if i had clips 1,2 and 3 in another project i would copy clips 1 and 3 leaving out 2 and paste them into my timeline in my current project to create a gap. which you can then trim or expand to be the appropriate length etc

idk if there are easier ways to do this and if there are i will feel very stupid but thats how i make the program work for me! imovie is deeply clunky but ive been using it for like 4 years and i simply do not have it in me to learn how to use another program. and i dont wanna do anything particularly special with like visual editing i prefer to just make cuts to music so it works for me! hope that all made sense if i can help with anything else pls let me know! have fun!!!

#ask #phannibal

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jrueships · 1 year ago

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Ted's omegaverse alignments but not really horny, i just think collabing concepts is neat.

READ ABOVE if u haven't the lore of the world. It's long like this so i can summarize a reminder of some of the terms real quick before we start the list:

ROIDing: can be used by omegas, betas, or alphas to change your status into either an omega, beta, or alpha. Can be a combination, like taking hard rut inducers and hard heat suppressors for an omega to go to a beta status, and can be doubled for an omega to even go as an alpha, although that jump is rare as it's quite the turmoil psychologically and not all minds might be up for the task or temper. Heat inducers and rut suppressors can turn a beta or an alpha into the categories listed below itself on the hierarchy. Anybody can use anything, and anybody can be anything.

WHICH MEANS.. anybody can top or bottom anybody. Omegas can top Alphas, betas, etc. Betas can top Alphas, Alphas can top Alphas. Omega does NOT equal bottom, and it doesn't equal Small either. Although different players take the dynamics differently though. It's Very rare for an alpha to Admit being in a relationship with an omega or beta if they feel like it goes against the usual Alpha relationship grain. There's a certain tension that always follows with freedom

Anyways, let's get right to it. PART 1 because i don't have the time to include EVERYONE rn and i probably won't bcs i don't know know everyone and don't wanna get stuff wrong so. Use ur own interpretation! This is a very open assignment that let's you be the judge in the end! Have fun! Ask questions or give feedback, im happy to hear it! I just love concepts tbh, that's all i rlly wanna do with this. The most will be little stories to go with this world. I'll reblog with more ppl LATER!!!

Michael Jordan: an ALPHA who (supposedly) PRESENTED very, very LATE. No one is exactly sure when he presented. Even Michael's story changes from before getting cut in highschool to after to college to the 'flu' game. But Everyone, at one point, thought he was going to be a beta. ( His siblings laugh at this. ) And then he wasn't. And then he won. And then he became a dictator. After Dennis announced being an omega who ROIDed to even an alpha status, distrust spread to every alignment, no matter how high. An omega becoming an alpha was rare, but now possible thanks to Dennis's admittance. It takes a certain strength, dedication, and insanity to undergo all the medicine, but someone competitive and desperate enough to do it could. Someone like Michael Jordan. Michael merely smirks whenever asked, which is quite Often. Those around him gag at his powerful cigar smoke scent, enough to overwhelm any alpha to their knees. Before his fame, he was quieter, more contained. He did his own laundry, knitted his own clothes, because no one wants a man without a secondary nature. When his alpha nature was finally announced, he stopped smiling and started smirking.

Allen Iverson, an ALPHA who was known to take protecting and providing for the pack a little too seriously. Like Isiah, his status as an alpha was highly doubted due to size. Unlike Isiah, his independent dominance humbled the doubting media time and time again, ultimately trailblazing in the NBA and expanding the game's personal freedom through his refusal to cave into other's wants or needs if he found disagreement. Unfortunately, his hard-headed strengths would also serve as some of his weaknesses, giving some alpha traditionalists confidence to nag on his struggles with finances and championships, always bringing up how a Real alpha would never. For a select few, no matter what Iverson did or didn't, he would never be ‘alpha enough’ to them all over something as silly as height. AI just finds the thought comical, he's probably taller than 50% of those alpha Truist freaks, and he knows for damn sure that he's 101% cooler than all those motherfuckers combined. He doesn't care if they don't think he's an alpha with all of their highly-opinionated evidence, people have hated on him out of basic bitch jealousy his whole damn life. Other people have never changed his mind, and other people never will. If he says he's wearing cornrows, he's wearing cornrows. If he says he's buying everyone everything, shieet, he's buying everyone everything! If he says he's getting a tattoo, he's getting a tattoo. If he says he's an alpha, he's a Fucking alpha. Argue with the wall.

Charles Barkley: ALPHA. hilarious and prickly, perhaps too prickly at times, can be his own downfall from either sheer laziness or stubbornness. Example of how just being an alpha isn't an automatic win in life like some alpha fanboys or egoists might try to persuade

Wilt Chamberlain: ALPHA. was a great player, but personality-wise? .... other alphas like Kareem butted heads with him..

Kareem: ALPHA. Even betas like Magic would then butt heads with Kareem. Standoffish, he tries to keep his distance even from his team due to the stigma of alphas being violent always following him especially because of his height and looks. Even in childhood. Distrustworthy of everyone because of deep-rooted trauma

Isiah Thomas: ALPHA. defends his team and their troubles like a bull, oftentimes a hypocritical.. near-sighted bull. Alpha status is often questioned because of his height. Many think Bill is the real alpha and Isiah is the beta. Those that have the pleasure (or displeasure, as Michael would say), stand firm on their stance that Yes, Isiah is an alpha. Unfortunately, you can really tell. Very protective of his team, especially of Dennis Rodman/omegas in general. Thinks the Bulls are bad for Dennis and doubts Michael’s way of ruling. The Bulls, in his opinion, are too hands-off and don't feel like the kind of loving pack a team is meant to be. Very maternal to his team, which doesn't help his beta questioning case, but everyone close to him vouches his alpha assurance with an annoyed strength. Rumored to have been heard asking if Magic took too much of a specific, unnamed medicine during his sickness, which sprung a lot of people into a panic of whether or not Magic Really is a beta or a ROIDed beta. Isiah firmly denies ever saying this, but Magic believes otherwise even though he’s forgiven him. When questioned about Michael’s status (is he Really an alpha who presented late, or is there ROIDing in the case), Isiah huffed, narrowed thick angry brows, and stated in a high and mighty voice how that's really none of his business, no matter how annoying Michael may be to him.

Larry Bird: ALPHA. Competitive. And fucking Rude. Left baseball even though he was good at it because he was bored with the minutes he was getting. Needs the ball and will clutch the most unexpected games as his form of thanking the coach. Magic is his favorite teasing victim. A famous quote

A reporter rooting around for drama: so, Larry, with all this ROIDing and SUPPRESSOR stuff going around thanks to that weirdo, Rodman, is there anyone you know is using? Like, anyone.. you're close with? Magic’s been under the weather, I heard. Could be a bad side effect of ROIDing.. he smell funny to you?

Larry, cracking open a beer by squeezing the sides until it popped: Magic is Magic.

And refused to elaborate, as he casually turned away and started to play basketball. The camera crew left out of fear for their equipments’ safety when Bird ‘accidentally’ let the ball rebound into a lens.

Bill Laimbeer: BETA who will beat the breaks off anyone. People are surprised for his violence, except for Isiah, who lovingly regales it as Bill's best job. Notably not a big peacemaker for a beta. Just a guy who comes in and plays hard. Not here to be a coddler like other betas were brought on to do or a media darling like Alphas. “I'm here to play basketball and piss people off. Speaking off, hey, Larry” “fuck you, Bill.” Known as The Odd Couple whenever him and Isiah are together, which they often are. In Dennis's book, he regards Bill to be surprisingly cold for a beta, and that Isiah would always be the one to tutor him instead. He only learned from Bill by watching Bill rather than asking, perhaps intimidated. If you want consolation or coddling, go to Isiah, not Bill.

Scottie Pippen: BETA. would try to middleman Jordan's frustrations with his team, especially the rups (rookie 'pups', men playfully called pups because they're new to the sport). Grew envious of Jordan, mainly disturbed by his frequent Sidekick sidelining. Switches up on his stories to whatever he thinks will boost his image best. Sometimes that's siding with Jordan, sometimes it's not. It's not easy being Michael's beta, the enigma. Wafted his calming scent around like febreeze from all the arguments and heated moments he had to calm down regarding Jordan and his competitive temper. Pippen’s scent grew the strongest during Michael’s …flu game. When questioned about Michael’s status, Pippen hummed and turned away, looking conflicted and guilty.

Shaq: BETA. Magic and him both have humorous charms that make them Feel like alphas.. but they needed more to get a ring. They needed alpha teammates, ultimately. no matter how big or bad or good a Beta may be, they are always Second. But they should never, never be considered first. That's an alpha's job. Orlando made that mistake drafting a beta to win them a ring, a beta that would eventually leave to ringchase with any alpha he could. Shaq's a bit shameless for a beta, but being shameless is maybe the only path to 'fame' (becoming a simple shtick to an easy-to-remember title, either being Sidekick, Dumb, Helpful, Funny, Enforcer, etc) for the life of a beta. At least in that time. People wonder if Shaq ever ROIDed into an alpha during key games only, to increase his dominance. He says that would be too much effort. He's just a big ass beta <- his words

Magic Johnson: BETA. Or Was he really? People RUMOR, after Rodman's reveal and especially after Magic's scare, if he was actually a self-conscious, self-compensating omega who craved the lure of feeling needed? And then even went an extra step with the rut inducers to make him a Shiny beta, charismatic enough to peacock? Or was he just that magic to be a really flashy beta? OR OR.. is Magic all of that all at once? Maybe, if he did do it, he needed to? What is known is that he grew up with an alpha mother and an omega father. He yearns to impress and lead people, and showing off gives him a high satisfaction. Because of his beta hierarchy, he had a bigger barrel to fish out of with less scrutiny, so to speak. And man, did he like fishing.

Dennis Rodman: OMEGA. one of the first in the NBA to openly admit to ROIDing so he can change hierarchies. First, he used amplified rut inducers and heat suppressors to hide his omega nature into a beta, just to make the nba transition with less pitfalls and drama, as (out there) omegas were virtually nonexistent due to prejudice. Being a beta on the pistons was phenomenal, he played whatever role was needed, and what happened to be needed was his favorite kind of role: defensive agitator. But, he ended up having to play another role afterwards.. one he found far less amicable. After getting traded, he took more and more of the ROID medicine, not caring for the symptoms of overdoing it. He became an alpha on the Bulls, and his behavior became worrisome for Isiah, but the Bulls had championships to worry about, not teammates. His behavior continued until, after one wild night, Michael Jordan, the mysterious apathetic alpha when it came to worry or kindness, dumped all his ROIDs down the toilet. That was the turnaround, that was the moment that Dennis decided to come clean and tell the world that he was an Omega from the start. And he would be an omega in the end, refusing to go back to ROIDing to become something he knew others only wanted. While he admitted how ROIDing wasn’t for him, he also elaborated how it's really a personal decision, he knows some guys consider it a positive part of their life and he loves that for them. But for him, personally, his decision to ROID was not for himself, in the end, it was for others. And Dennis was notorious for not listening to others; he watched. He watched and realized that he refused to allow others to saddle him, the mustang, so why saddle himself? He was going to play as omega this time, a completely uncovered omega. And the Bulls went on to win. And Dennis became one of the first unROIDed Omegas to win a championship, while being one of the top three pieces-no, Players involved to do so. His decision changed the game for future hierarchies, bridging the option of omegas openly playing sport. But he still stands firm on his flexibility of whether or not to ROID, laughing over how it's ultimately a matter of the self, not the sayers. For him, he felt more true to himself without the medicine, for others, they may say the opposite and that's okay. He knows many like that already. But it's up to the person to deem what is true to himself.. and what is true to the people, that's the hard part: ego.

There's plenty of other older figures to assign, but these guys above are mainly the best for lore-building purposes. To sum the rest up, back then there were mainly alphas and betas. Omegas were either considered too useless or too weak. Alphas would lead, betas would follow. That is.. until LeBron.

LeBron : a BETA who presented late. Everyone thought/wanted him to be an alpha. The highschool phenom was such a hot topic, the truly invasive reporters would go as far as trying to sniff out a deciding scent just so they could be the ones who'd release the giant unveiling first. He was following Michael's Stardom, and everyone wanted him to be the same or larger. When he happily announced his hierarchy reveal after shaking The Cavs hands, the media turned, the team turned, and LeBron realized telling an adult the truth doesn't always grant the clemency family cartoons wished you to believe. His team hated him, refusing to pass or cheer when he was winning. Betas Don't Lead. That's how it’s Always been. His white wine scent tried to soothe their tempers, but it only made them nauseous. Through talent, effort, and unfortunate youthful uphill battle experience, LeBron managed to carve out a name for himself and for other hierarchies to breach the mold besides simply Alphas. The tide was starting to turn. Now, he has fans who prefer him over Michael, an alpha, because he feels more believable, more attainable to them. His beta nature made him more all-around, less competitively daggered than Jordan's rule. But those that hated him then still do with a ruthless vigor. They dislike the change, and they Detest his outspoken advocacy for allowing Omegas into the league. Of any kind. Because of LeBron, Steph was inspired. Reporters asked Michael if he had any strong disagreements with what LeBron's doing to the game. He smirked, “the flopping is funny.” And then smiled, just a bit. Just a touch soft. The cigar smell fades. “Everything else? I could give less of a damn.”

Kyrie Irving: ALPHA who eventually couldn't stand being in a beta's shadow, especially when the dynamics started flipping from the media because of it

Russell Westbrook: OMEGA famous (and infamous) for 'Playing like an alpha'. Giannis's idol. His security and power in his status drives alphas away. Doesn't care for the alignment system because that's what he's always been fighting against (banking against). Criticized for playing so hard that it makes his own teammates wary, Russ just rolls his big shoulders and snaps back, matter-of-fact like a rubber band's elastic response, “then get out of the kitchen.”

KD: ALPHA. His only pack is a gold bust of himself now. Cares about the alignment system because that's what he's always been fighting for (banking on)

James Harden: ALPHA. Known for being more carefree than most alphas. This annoys hard-core alpha basketball elitists. Because of his own traditional condemnation, he holds a not-so discreet disdain toward omegas.

Giannis: OMEGA. People confuse him and his brother's statuses often. Believe it or not, though, Thanasis is an alpha and Giannis is an omega. The bucks were a doubted organization for a Long time due to their strange and rare lack of a strong alpha presence. Giannis is a heavily criticized super star, mainly by alphas, but even some disgruntled betas join the scorn. Some audiences don't consider him a real superstar, merely an omega who got lucky with a superstar body blessing. Giannis grins, his sugary sweet cotton candy scent making Khris cough next to him, and chirps how he wishes he could be blessed with a good 3-point-shot too then, since he's just such a talentless miracle

Thanasis: ALPHA. Dedicates 99.99999% of his life to helping his family. Laughing stock of the NBA fans for Giannis feeling more like the alpha and him feeling like the omega. That's when Giannis gets mad.

Jrue: BETA. Always stands up for his team, while still humbling them. Was brought on as the perfect systematic beta, started to become something more before he was eventually traded for a systematic Alpha after the bucks caved into the idea of there not being enough

Khris Middleton: BETA. Found giannis's attempts to be seen as a Westbrook-like leader annoying at first. They balanced each other out later

Damian Lillard: ALPHA. Quiet, let's his game tell you what he is. If that's not enough, he'll butt heads with other alphas to dig the point. Notably more withdrawn and teasing to packs than classically alpha protective. Rumored to have been a beta who ROIDed into an alpha out of pressure to win. Dislikes Giannis instantly accepting him as the bucks new leader. Uncomfortable by the thought of never being enough

CJ McCollum: BETA. Starting to branch into more leader-like positions after being inspired by LeBron

Steven Adams: BETA. Casually admitted to originally having been an Alpha, but hard dosed rut suppressants because he simply didn't feel like dealing with all the complications and ruckus of being an alpha. Friends with Russ because they hold similar ideologies about not really caring about alignments, they just want to play ball the way they like best

Kawhi Leonard: BETA. Once dropped in an interview that he was an omega who ROIDed into a beta because he didn't like attention and high needs, and he knew he'd be swamped with it if he went into the NBA as one. Then laughed his weird little Kawhi Leonard laugh and left like he just told a silly little dad joke and not an atomic bomb of information. Paul George choked on his water

Paul George: ALPHA who, at first, tried to play the original alpha role by buying into The Savior hype he received after being drafted. LeBron's playoff showdown helped widen his eyes about other hierarchy skill, so when being the packs dependable alpha that didn't work out the way he planned, he tried to play it diluted. Then he tried the beta role. Then the omega role. .. then Kawhi made that monotone announcement and.. he got embarrassed. And confused. And now he's just confused. Like most alphas, he grew leaning into the alignment system that favored him for his high status. Like most alphas now, he doesn't know what to think of it. It's all kind of muddled now. (dammit George! HOW do you keep letting OMEGAS or.. ex-omegas? TOP you?? HOW WILL THIS AFFECT THE PAUL GEORGE LEGACY ?!?? ..ugh, he just won't think about it..)

Joel Embiid: ALPHA. WAS an Undisclosed: Beta who ROIDed into an alpha to contribute to The Process. Now too afraid to go back because it failed. Tries hard to be an alpha when others want him to, until he's too tired to when they actually need him to. Known as one of 'The Lazy Alphas' now

Ben Simmons: ALPHA whose anxieties got too high from the pressures of The Process

Markelle Fultz: ALPHA who was pushed to PRESENT EARLY as one by The Process. Was going to present as an alpha anyways, but the sixers needed him to be revealed as one on Their time

Tobias Harris: BETA disliked by the originally alpha heavy sixers organization for not being dominant enough

Boban: ALPHA, given a lot of leeway for both his status and his size

Tyrese Maxey: ALPHA. Praised as the golden alpha sixers child, although they're not used to his low-aggression levels for an alpha. They're not exactly opposed, though, his sweetness is captivating. Slowly, Maxey is softening the once toxic city

Jokic: ALPHA who once hated not being seen as one due to incorrect aesthetics (alphas are supposed to be strong, so eventually he got strong enough to match their idealization), but now hates being seen as one. Dislikes attention and attraction. He's apparently 'accepted' as an alpha, but STILL not a Complete one for other opinionated reasons. Whatever (similar plight of Allen Iverson + Isiah Thomas, responds like AI by not responding)

DeMar DeRozan: BETA who PRESENTED LATE. It's always a gamble to draft an unpresented pick. When the raptors realized their potential alpha Savior wasn't what they expected him to be, they were blatantly disappointed.. but because of LeBron.. gave him a chance. Maybe he could be like Him? They already had similar stories and hardships? Maybe Toronto had their own LeBron? But DeMar wasn't LeBron. DeMar was DeMar. Toronto deemed him unfit for his playoff struggles. They traded him not for an alpha, but a beta who could at least dominate like one. But the hardest blow was his split with Kyle.

Kyle Lowry: ALPHA. Rough around the edges, smiling at you one second, scowling the next. His turbulent past consisted of personality conflicts the most. He was bristly, suffering from the lone alpha wolf syndrome teams disliked where, instead of leading the team toward him, the alpha pushed them away out of some form of pride. But the Raptors were known for their big culture of chances. Maybe it was thanks to Canadian clemency that Kyle found the one beta who wasn't afraid to step in and calm him, who didn't tire of his temper, whose scent never tried to overwhelm him out of desperate, and was just lowkey enough to extend a comfort enough for Kyle to settle down and calm down in. Maybe it was just a happy coincidence. And then another beta came, one who smelled of mystery and not like the movies. And His beta was sent away. And so was Kyle's secret dreams to settle with their rups and start something he'd be otherwise afraid to do alone. …then an alpha swept in.

Jimmy Butler: ALPHA who PRESENTED LATE. Smells like freshly brewed coffee. Lauded as the next Michael, or at least very similar, he tries Very hard to keep the kind of athletic aggression alphas are typically known for alive. He says it's for himself, working on what he does best, but saying you're not influenced by something (or someone) is always easier than committing to the actual practice of abstention.

OG Anunoby: BETA who refuses to coddle anyone's feelings, yet, despite his best efforts at apathy, still somehow draws in disgusting extroverts to be his friends. He doesn't know why. Likes to subtly stir things up rather than calm them down. Kyle finds him very funny. Their unique Raptor squad was a real unique charm.

Norman Powell: BETA who just craves to be involved, worried about being invisible

Serge Ibaka: a fussy ALPHA with peculiar tastes. Considered to have a very intriguing behavior for an alpha, which allures omegas and betas toward him (usually so they can tease him for being funny, but he does a certain charm to him, admittedly)

De’aaron Fox: ALPHA. Bubbly, welcoming, and teasing, he attracts everyone with his confidence, most particularly other alphas seeking his sunlight

Tyrese Haliburton: a beta who ROIDed into an ALPHA out of desire to help the pacers. Calmer than most alphas, but will hold competitive grudges like the worst of them. Tired of being a loser

Jalen Smith: OMEGA, beloved by locals but barely recognized by outside nba fans for being an omega center/forward. While omegas are actually allowed to show themselves in the league now, that doesn't mean they're allowed to do so without some words by unwarranted audiences.

Buddy Hield: omega who ROIDed into a BETA. Switches from polite to petty on a dime

Steph Curry: OMEGA. Inspired by those that expanded the game before him, he's taking the handle through his moves on and off the court to increase the league’s talent and prosperity for everyone. Those that dislike him disparage him for not being physical enough, which is the only reason why he, an omega, has been so successful. Proving them wrong by going in the paint. Now, they're focusing on whether he can carry a team with a crumbling alpha..

Klay Thompson: a beta who ROIDed into an ALPHA for his team. The injury has left him feeling hopeless, a ghost of his former self. Worst of all, he can't ROID any further to help

Draymond Green: Omega who ROIDed into a BETA and is suffering some of the personal side effects.

Andrew Wiggins: OMEGA who USED to be a ROIDed beta and only stopped when he went to the warriors and Curry consoled him Only because it was hurting him more than helping him

Jordan Poole: ALPHA under constant pressure

Jabari Smith Jr: stuffy ALPHA whose father was a beta. Distrusts the use of ROIDing because, according to his father, it's not playing Fair.

Jalen Green: ALPHA. People like to doubt his hierarchy because he likes to preen and doesn’t hold the same kind of aggressiveness or possessiveness most people perceive alphas to have. Jalen just minds his business and enjoys what he enjoys

Alperen Şengün: beta who ROIDed into an ALPHA. New to the effects, but doesn't mind them. Likes protecting his pack but also keeping the peace. ROIDed to bring more prosperity back to his family through his fame

Aaron Holiday: OMEGA. Jrue likes to tease him since he's the youngest, but the middle Holiday brother will Not let Anyone hurt his little brother or his feelings. Aaron works hard on defense so he can win a ring like his brothers

Justin Holiday: ALPHA who gets confused for a beta at times for his peaceful and placated personality. ‘Blames’ it on being the eldest brother

Anthony Edwards: no known status of any kind as he has YET TO PRESENT. Still. Has to tell reporters to stop sniffing him all the time. Another MJ comparison player. Everyone, including himself, is Hoping for an Alpha reveal, lord knows The Timberwolves need it. Got in trouble for posting a video making fun of omegas, and why would he make fun of something he is? See? Everyone can stop worrying now! It's all gonna be okay!! He swears! ..he hopes. Well, at least he has his charm. If people aren't bored with it yet…

Karl-Anthony Towns: beta who ROIDed into an ALPHA and thinks no one knows but, trust me, everyone does .

Anthony Davis: alpha who ROIDed into a BETA. Heavily hated for this decision, but doesn't care because he says he's more comfortable as a beta, so he's being a beta whether people like it or not. LeBron says he supports it, but people like to stir that he really thinks otherwise

JA morant: ALPHA who PRESENTED LATE. Actively argues against his ROIDing rumors, taking them as a blow to his pride. Hates whenever people confuse Jaren and his hierarchies, then acts out to try and prove them wrong. When he's not obsessed with outside opinion on himself, he's a protective and kind alpha, especially to his pack. Very close to his attracted crowds.. no matter what kind they may be

Jaren Jackson Jr: BETA. His alphas’ number one hype man. May or may not have an (unfortunate) thing for alphas or betas who act like alphas. Thought to be an alpha for his height, but his family and friends quickly disregard that possibility regarding his personality. While it's very difficult to get him actually mad, it's quite easy to get him upset or huffy. For a beta, Jaren’s usually the one who needs calming down rather than the vice-versa of his hierarchy’s original talents. Seeks constant validation because of this, worried he's not the best beta

Desmond Bane: BETA. Withdrawn and would rather stay back to let people fight things out than intervene. He's here to work out, then work. Unfortunately attracts self-conscious crowds with his quiet confidence. Often confused as an alpha.

Dillon Brooks: BETA who ROIDed DOWN from an alpha. If you thought he’s bad as a beta, you should’ve seen him when he was originally an alpha. Oh, he's a Saint now. He only ROIDed because Houston was worried they had too many alphas on the team, an error proven to be bad back in the 80s.

Zion Williamson: a nervous ALPHA who ROIDED from beta to alpha to try and appease his college hype. It's not exactly working..

RJ Barrett: ALPHA who was being pressured into ROIDing into a beta but didn't only because he got trades before the process could really start. Keeps to himself. Known for being charismatic, chirpy, and a bit controlling to those he trusts. Which is fewer than some.

Keldon Johnson: OMEGA. Instantly adopted by older betas and alphas for his happy-go-lucky ( and airheaded ) glee, but secretly yearns for rups of his own to tease and protect. More than willing to step up and be a leader and a shoulder his new rups can lean on when needed, but secretly growing more worried with each passing criticism that he can't be as strong for his rups as his mentor figures were for him

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one-winged-dreams · 1 year ago

Text

Save the Date

ship: what do angels dream of (angeal x adriel) (pl: adriel & zack) source: final fantasy vii word count: 1408

JUST TALKING WEDDING PLANS WITH ZACK, DON'T MIND ME

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @camellias-and-coriander @rebel-wolf13 @sunstar-of-the-north @mahitoslittlebird @goldenworldsabound @edencantstopfallininlove @sosoftandsweet @dorothys-wife @faerie-circle-ships @kylars-princess

"So you've got a date decided, then?"

Adriel stopped pacing at the question, his hand coming up to grip the wrist of the hand holding his phone to his ear.

He wasn't sure if Zack had initially called to talk about wedding plans, excitable as he was. The answer to THAT particular question was up in the air, but Adriel never minded speaking with him at any rate.

And Zack's question WAS going to come up eventually.

"Yeeesss," he answered tentatively, looking out one of his living room windows. The day had passed by rather quickly, but it was difficult to ascertain just HOW quickly based on how early the sun set this time of year.

"What do you mean 'Yeeeessss,' you gonna tell me or what?" Zack prompted. At this point, it didn't matter why he called, Adriel knew that the conversation was now irrevocably wedding-related, regardless of initial intention.

He sighed, unable to help but smile, not doing so a difficult enough challenge around Zack in general.

"Why? Thinking about letting your plus one know? And your plus one's plus one?"

"Sure am! Cloud's not usually the type to go to these sort of things, but he'll have a good time since you and Angeal are my friends. And you're gonna LOVE Bee," Zack began to ramble, only stopping as he heard Adriel chuckle, "What? Are you laughing at me? Come on, just tell me."

Adriel's smile spread further, and he leaned against the back of the couch, placing a hand on the edge to support himself.

"You'll get your card in the mail the same day as everyone else, Zack."

A huff on the other end of the line made him giggle.

"Might as well send out the invitations already if that's how it's gonna be."

This brought a blush to Adriel's face rather than a smile, one of his hands instinctively coming up to cover the lower half of his face.

"W-We're still working on those. The save the date cards will be out tomorrow, Reeve's not letting me skimp out on the actual invitations. He wants us to make something nice, I don't know. It's not really a big deal to us, they're just cards," he mumbled.

Zack made some sort of exasperated whine that truly hammered home what a puppy he was.

"They're not, though! You and Angeal are two out of three of my BEST FRIENDS! So you make something with heart, 'cause I'm gonna keep it FOREVER."

"Zack…" Adriel murmured, touched by the sentiment. It didn't come as too much of a surprise, but it incited a strong emotional response regardless.

"So is that why you're not doing field work right now? Reeve's got you on leave so you can plan the wedding? By the way it sounds, it's gonna be pretty soon."

"You can say that, yeah," Adriel's eyes scanned the room as he adjusted the phone. That was all he would say on the matter, and it was clear Zack knew he wasn't getting any more out of him, "You doing delivery work with Cloud right now? Working even on your days off, huh?"

"Of course! Holidays are coming up, and Cloud can use all the help he can get. It's like everyone in Midgar and their mom need a package sent, it's CRAZY. What about Angeal? He helping you out today?"

Adriel paused and then sighed.

"He's in Junon with Genesis, heading security detail for Rufus. They're expanding on the self-sustaining energy plan over there, and a lot of people who still support Shinra's old cause are… Unhappy, to say the least."

"Damn. They couldn't get Sephiroth to do it?" Zack's pout was nearly audible.

"He and Owen are helping Reeve check out the old reactor in Corel. Trying to make sure it's not causing any problems. It's been all hands on deck lately. Except for me, I guess," Adriel let out a breath through his nose, his own pout materializing as he ran the circumstances over in his head again.

"That really sucks. But Reeve's right, at least one of you needs to start on those wedding plans. And you know Angeal's no good at that sort of thing," Good ol' Zack, trying to remain positive despite everything.

"And I am?" Adriel only half-joked, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. "It's not gonna be a big deal. We're just taking a handful of you guys to Banora. Might have Lazard officiate, might have Genesis. It depends on if Genesis can behave himself. He REALLY wants to officiate, by the way."

"Oh I'll bet! Good luck with that, have Lazard put something together just in case."

This got another chuckle from Adriel, Zack responding with a pleased hum.

"Angeal calling you often?" Zack minorly changed the subject.

A smile returned to Adriel's lips, soft and affectionate.

"At LEAST twice a day."

"Ohhh, at least, huh? Do I wanna know what any extra phonecalls might be about?"

The comment was so brazen that Adriel couldn't suppress a flustered laugh in time.

"ZACK!"

"Guess I don't! Alright, I'll stop. When's he coming home, anyway?"

As Adriel looked out the window, the sun was setting low, the sky ablaze with warm colors that incited a sense of romanticism.

"Hopefully? Tomorrow or the day after. My money's on the day after, God knows how long Rufus is going to be doing his thing over there. I was a SOLDIER, I never understood the bureaucracy thing."

His audible disappointment was interrupted as the doorbell rang, eyes narrowing to a squint.

"That's not you at the door, is it?"

"Me? Nah, I'm in Sector 7 right now. This is my last round for the day. Why, you want me to come over?"

Adriel frowned thoughtfully, approaching the door but keeping his phone loosely at his ear.

"You can if you want, but I-"

"A little chilly out here, hope there's someone home to warm me up," came a familiar and far more than welcome voice from behind the door.

Eyes widening, Adriel nearly dropped the phone.

"I have to go."

"Uh, okay see y-" Zack was cut off as Adriel hung up and tossed the phone onto the couch.

After a quick dash to the door, he all but flung it open, the ultimate object of his desire standing there, rolling his shoulder. Angeal had probably been holding that traveling bag for a while if he had walked all the way home from the bus station.

As the door opened before him, Angeal stopped mid-stretch, a grin immediately spreading across his face.

"Oh, lucky me. My angel was home after all, good. I don't think I could have waited another minute to see you again."

The tears that sprung to Adriel's eyes were expected, his weepy expression paired with a deep blush making Angeal laugh.

"I'll take that as to meaning the feeling is mutual. Can I get a-"

He was ultimately unable to finish the request, as Adriel had flung himself at him so hard and so quickly that he had to drop his bag to catch him.

As always, Angeal was a brick wall that didn't budge an inch, no matter how hard Adriel threw himself at him. As he heard Angeal laugh again, feeling his strong arms wrap around him as he buried himself in his chest, he whimpered in the most pathetic and unflattering manner.

"What? What's the matter my angel? Don't cry, I'm here," Angeal chuckled while offering a tight squeeze.

"I ju-just! L-love you so mu-uch!" came Adriel's weepy reply, gripping the fabric of Angeal's shirt so hard it was a wonder it hadn't begun to tear.

Humming affectionately, Angeal placed a kiss on the top of Adriel's head.

"I know. I love you too. Let's go inside, mh? It's cold out here, and I did ask if someone could warm me up. Someone being you, if that wasn't clear," Angeal half-teased, not releasing Adriel as he leaned to the side to pick up his bag.

Proceeding to move the straps down to the crook of his elbow, Angeal didn't hesitate to turn his hug into a bridal carry, reveling in the yelp that it incited.

"Angeal!" Adriel exclaimed with a sniffle, his arms immediately wrapping around Angeal's neck by habit alone.

"Hope you weren't in the middle of any wedding planning. Because we've got a lot of 'warming up' to catch up on."

#self ship #self shipping #dream fics #what do angels dream of #pl: together as one

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mysticalserenity-tarot · 1 month ago

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Hello,

I hope my ask finds you in great shape,

May I please request you a reading about the 3-card free love reading?

I'm S.R, he's K.T

Something about us : I've gotten signs/synchronicities about him for about 3 years now, and I began writing poems, due to my feelings of him, which even shook me.

Thank you so much for your time and energy!

Hii S.R., thank you for the kind wish and you're welcome! 🤍 (in my rules I said I would only accept 7 people this time, but since you got on time and I have more free time today, I make an exception for you.)

~~~~

Let's dive in your reading! (I made it longer compared to others because I kept getting insights for some reason, maybe your guides wanted you know all this)

For your question based on the "is it love" spread, I drew: The Chariot Rx-4 of Swords, Page of Pentacles, 6 of Wands (bottom: 9 of Cups, recurring card The Wheel)

YOU: THE CHARIOT RX-4 OF SWORDS (advice: balance action with contemplation)

I see you daydreaming about love to the point that you may forget or neglact your duties or taking good care of yourself since you may be focused on something else, rather than yourself which is confirmed by both the Chariot reversed and the 4 of Swords (upright). What these two mean together? that there's a lack of direction and since this reading is about love, you may not know which road to take, how to approach your person without sounding or looking "too much" and at times you may even doubt this connection or think that you're being delusional. All this instead of fulfilling you all the time, it stresses you. You may feel stuck which is also the reason why both these cards and not just one wanted to come out and ask you if this is really the path that you want to take and I sense that here they're expanding their view about you and asking this question about your life in general. If you are not certain of this person and this path, I mean that you feel like it won't give you what you deserve, you may want to reconsider. But we'll delve in the connection in the third paragraph because I have some good news for you!

THEM: PAGE OF PENTACLES

This feels like a young love which hasn't bloomed yet and is currently stagnant by both parties. This Page represents a young, practical and somehow naïve individual which is still uncertain of his future and probably juggling between things (2 of Pentacles appearance in the deck) The Page of Pentacles represents your person in this reading, someone with a youthful spirit and heart that is still in the process of learning and with not so much experience behind him, I'm sensing about love too. So, if he also has feelings for you (this is not the right spread to learn about his feels for you) he may not have a fully grasp of them and he's trying to make sense of those feelings and acknowledge them which makes me think he's insecure or some fears/worries around them and about love.However, I sense curiosity from his part as if he wants to know more about you and maybe have those type of long night conversations because he finds you interesting. That could also be on an energetic level.

THE POTENTIAL CONNECTION: 6 OF WANDS

This part of the reading is what you were waiting for, right ? 😉 lo and behold... you got the 6 of Wands! One of the most positive cards to get in a reading and no matter the topic because is the triumphant card. It's about achieving what you have been working for, what you always deserved and finally have your moment of success. Your celebrity moment. This is all about success, regardless of what your question is about and since here is about a love connection, there's success written all over it! And not only because I drew this card but before it I saw other cards concerning success while shuffling, like The World and at the bottom of the deck we literally have what we tarot readers like to call “the wish fulfillment card” - 9 of Cups. So yeah, I cannot make this up is all in front of our eyes. This makes me think that you've manifested K.T whether consciously or unconsciously it doesn't matter because you seem happy to get signs and synchronicities about him and the universe is about to give you what you asked for. But, is important to mention the good and the bad side. The "obstacle" in this case is that until you learn to 'prioritize yourself' over this connection, there may be not movement and instead of your person, the universe will keep sending you signs/synchronicities to tease you a bit. You told me you started to write poems, right? you could think about selling your poems if you feel called to which would be great if it brings money in your life.

On top of my deck we have Ace of Pentacles which is confirming what we say about focusing on yourself before your person enters your life or if he's already in it, then to come into a union. But I sense this applies to both of you. This Ace encourages the both of you to invest in yourself and in your personal growth before starting a relationship together which has the potential to be a successful and fulfilling union (beware downs are always present in any kind of relationship, so don't worry about it if you encounter them, things gets better!). You both have to be open to new opportunities and possibilities that will enrich your love and life in general. I see a stable and harmonious union which is confirmed by the number 4 and 6 on both your cards - 4 of Wands, 6 of Wands. And also potential fulfillment and completion in your relationship confirmed by numbers 9 and 10 on the extras cards - The Wheel, 9 of Cups.

Getting signs and synchronicities about your person may feel like fate to you, like a union that has to happen and I also think so with The Wheel as a recurring card which tells me your connection may be karmic and karmic connections are fated because they're about "unfinished business" and "unsolved past karma" or something more deep like twin flames/soulmates. All three types teach us something important in life and yes soulmates too as lovely as it may sound. All three types of connection are fated. As for your connection, I see either a twin flame type of relationship or soulmate but with karmic elements/lessons in it. But fated and this is why you're getting this person signs/synchronicities for about 3 years and you even started writing poems about him. Who knows maybe this is your vocation and the universe wanted you to realize this talent of yours by bringing this person into your life.

SIGNS

Consecutive numbers like 1234/123/910 may be significant, as well as 11/111. I'm also getting "heels" oddly specific but probably you or your person love heels or you're wearing heels. Tip toes?Take it how it resonates. I'm also seeing the color red/orange being prominent in your reading. Warm colors, maybe yours or your person's favorite colors.You or your person may be fire signs or have fire prominent in your natal chart.

~~~~

Hope I have you some clarity and worry not because energy is in constant movement, so things can always improve! 😊 ps: I apologize for eventual typos and grammar mistakes.

What I ask you now is to leave feedback via ask or dm if you want to partecipate in future games/readings too, which is extremely important for me as I want to always do better. And if you feel called to I'd love for you to book a reading with me about any topic you want (check “my paid readings services” link in bio for info, If interested). Or tip the amount you want on my ko-fi if you enjoyed your reading, if you want/can.

All the best! 🤍

Ps. if you want the photo of the cards I drew let me know and I'll send it in your DM!

Disclaimer: Tarot readings are for entertainment purposes only and are not meant to predict or dictate your future. The cards provide insights and guidance, but the ultimate power of choice lies with you.

[8/8 readings done (pls guys, all of you leave feedbacks)]

#free readings #free tarot readings #answered ask #mysticalserenity tarot

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familyvideostevie · 9 months ago

Note

omg okay I HOPE YOU LOVE IT and i would absolutely lend you my copy if i could tbh, pls def give us all your review if you do ever read it. but that is SO VALID, like the lore is absolutely phenomenal, but there is SO MUCH, especially between the expanded universe and legends and honestly, i love the high republic and it will always hold a special place in my heart so if you do get it into it and ever have any questions!! or wanna chat!! pls lemme know i will always be down to talk, i am staring at my star wars bookshelf as we speak bc now i am getting the itch to pull them all down and reread them (also sometimes thrift stores and used bookstores have star wars books for cheap!! last week i got the hutt's gambit trilogy for like $1 each!! or sometimes libraries have the rlly old or hard to find ones). but that is wondrful!! how are you liking rebels so far? (and omg i did not know that but!!! that is so cool!!!! and tbh so smart of them to keep everything in continuity so that if someone down the line wants to use that planet, BAM! full info right there, keep all the gungans in order so to speak, that is so fucking cool and makes me love it even more) (but AHHHH ANOTHER ANDOR LOVER and yes omg like i was not expecting the mouse to come right out of left field with anything in andor like that makes it even better, i think, that the politics of the show were still able to come through and be showcased and i miss it so much) okay you know what. i have to agree. with the beard ESPECIALLY like he shouldnt be able to pull it off as well as he did with how baby faced he was in fallen order but man. those five years DID SOMETHING. i respect your taste, emma. but i agree wholeheartedly. i just. cal with a mullet. controversial yet brave yet..... sometimes the heart doesn't know what it wants. i won't even defend myself on that, but the flirting does need to stop. he's out of control. but also i promise you will get no spoilers from me i will let you experience it all firsthand <3 but we will see!!! and we can be in delulu land together about a live action appearance because that NEEDS to happen. idc which show it's in, we need live action cal!!!!

i am 100% going to check out used bookstores for these books! i know most of them aren't canon after disney bought Lucasfilm but i've heard they're all quality anyway.

rebels is great!!! i love hera, she is like, all time best character. i also love kanan and yes it's a children's show but yes, he's hot! what else can i say!

last night i was playing survivor and SOMETHING CRAZY HAPPENED so I'm very pleased about that : ) here's to u cal ily so much.

#chat anytime w me about star wars!!#emma's asks #anon ask #cal kestis #lol

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miekasa · 4 years ago

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six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex.

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team.

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.”

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader

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jcwriting · 4 years ago

Text

Written in the Stars

summary ↬ being soulmates with a werewolf? pretty easy. being jungkook’s soulmate? the easiest thing in the world. there’s only one teensy tiny problem. he doesn’t want to fuck you.

pairing ↬ werewolf!jungkook x reader

genre ↬ soulmate!au, abo verse, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort (this is so fucking dramatic and for what)

word count ↬ 10.4k my hand slipped

warnings ↬ swearing, angst (but with a happy ending bc im a sappy bitch), jk is stupid in love (emphasis on stupid), mentions of violence (very brief and i don’t go into too much detail but just to warn yall), slight nsfw (sex is a big topic for like half of this but not sex is had...i know im shocked too), half of this is background info/setting up the story the other half is finally addressing the summary lolol, jk is kind of an asshole but he has reasons!!!!!

authors note ↬ hello lovelies! here’s a small little thing for you all (laughs in 10k word count). this has been sitting in my drafts for fucking ever and i just needed to get it out there and out of my hands. im thinking about writing a part two where the actual ~*/sex/*~ is had but im still on the fence about that. please let me know what you think! i literally crave your interactions so pls dont be shy,,,,,okay love you bye :)

(ps i was so close to naming this Rewrite the Stars but since this has absolutely nothing to do with The Greatest Showman i didn’t. but i was close,,,,so fucking close)

You always knew Jeon Jungkook was destined for great things.

It was written in the stars, your mother had told you after he had first stepped foot into your family-owned grocery store. Your mother didn’t have any special powers, she just had a thing for astrology. While you normally shrugged off her random proclamations about divine intervention and planetary alignments, you found that Jungkook was something you couldn’t ignore or chalk up as your mother’s latest tea leaf reading.

From the moment you set eyes on him you knew he was different. While your family held zero claim to any sort of mystical or magical inclinations, you were well aware of those who did. It was no secret that non-humans roamed the Earth in plain sight, even though it had taken humans eons to realize this. After years of savage wars and civil unrest, agreements had come into place and governing bodies were adjusted to accept the changes that had finally been made. But, this was all before your time. You were the generation that was born into the period of peace, the first children to not experience bloodshed before they could walk. The world you knew now was almost a complete one-eighty of what it had been.

Where before those who were not of human blood had to do everything they could to blend in, now could be free of the shadows. Your classrooms had both humans and non-humans in their rosters. Some of your teachers were hybrids. Curriculum expanded to teach humans about a world that had once been entirely unknown to them. One of your favorite teachers was a witch who regaled your tenth grade class with stories of goblin wars, wizard duels, and vampire covens. All tales that you had once thought were nothing but fiction were now anything but.

Which is why, the second Jeon Jungkook entered the grocery store that your parents owned and that you had worked at since you were old enough to speak in full sentences, you knew who he was. You didn’t even question it.

He was a werewolf. A powerful one. You could see it in the way he carried himself. The purposeful strides he took down the narrow aisles, the confidence in his broad shoulders. Humans weren’t nearly as sensitive as their hybrid counterparts but you also paid attention in your classes. Or, perhaps you were more aware than other humans. Never in your life did you have the issues other faced when meeting a non-human for the first time. You always knew who they were without them having to tell you. You just knew.

So, when Jeon Jungkook stepped up to your register with a bottle of water and some raw beef, you didn’t flinch. Didn’t bend under his dark gaze or shuffle your feet in an awkward attempt to break the silence. Instead, you flashed him your customer service smile and rang up his items. He didn’t say a word as he paid, barely sparing you a second glance as he strode out of the store.

“He’s going to be a great and powerful man,” your mother said in that feathery light voice of hers. “It was written in the stars.”

You couldn’t help but agree.

Jeon Jungkook came into your store everyday for the next month. He bought the same thing every time. A bottle of water and a package of raw beef. The only time he spared you any words was to say thank you or the occasional hello if the sun was shining. Usually, he was alone. Sometimes, he came with a few members of his pack. You liked those days. He smiled a little brighter and talked a little louder when they were around. Especially around Taehyung.

Then, after a month, he didn’t come in. Not for an entire week. From Monday to Sunday, you hadn’t seen a hide nor hair of him. A part of you was worried, so worried that you almost stopped Taehyung in the middle of the street to ask of Jungkook’s whereabouts before realizing how insane that made you look, the other part was chastising yourself for caring. Jeon Jungkook was a customer. Nothing more, nothing less.

The following Monday had come and you had finally stopped glancing at the sliding doors every five minutes. You no longer expected his commanding presence to rock your little world. Instead, you continued your day as if it had been any other. That was, until, Jeon Jungkook stepped through the entrance looking as if he was walking on air. It didn’t take a genius to figure out why.

“Did you have a good heat?” You asked when he stepped up to your register. Jungkook fumbled the water bottle he had been setting onto the conveyer belt before turning to stare at you.

“What did you just say?”

You didn’t shrink under his intense glare. “I was asking if you enjoyed your heat. Seems like you did.”

“How do you know I was in my rut?”

“Oh, is rut the correct terminology? Sorry, they always interchanged them in class, I was never sure what was appropriate.” You shrugged and rang up his items. “It was kind of obvious, though. You seemed pretty agitated about a week-and-a-half ago, then you disappear for a week, and now you’re back looking happier than ever. If it wasn’t your rut then I want to know where you went on vacation because that’s where I’m heading to next.”

Jungkook laughed. That almost made you jump out of your skin. You had never heard him laugh before. It was throaty, it was deep, and it was wonderful. “I’ll be sure to send you the link to the Airbnb.”

“And how do you plan on doing that?”

He smirked. “I’m here every day, aren’t I?”

You tilted your head as you accepted the cash he handed to you. “Clearly, you’re not that reliable.”

Jungkook laughed again. It was becoming your new favorite sound. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to appear flaky.”

“You’re forgiven,” you decided as you handed him the plastic bag of his purchases. Teasingly, you added, “just make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He flashed you a smile that showed off his sharpened canines. “Don’t worry, darling. I never make the same mistake twice.”

Jeon Jungkook kept his promise. He showed up everyday, like clockwork. Bought the same thing. Arrived at the same time. The only thing that changed was how he treated you. It wasn’t that he treated you badly before, he had always been polite. But now, he talked to you. He asked you questions and answered yours. More often than not, he laughed.

(It had become your favorite sound.)

For three months, this continued. The two of you had settled into a comfortable routine, something you relied on and expected. Until, he changed that.

Until, Jeon Jungkook asked you out on a date.

“What did you just say?”

“Are you free? Tonight?” You glanced around, almost expecting to see some sort of supermodel posing behind you to explain the absolute absurdity of the situation. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for the hidden cameras. I think I’m getting Punk’d.”

Jungkook sighed and placed both hands on the counter that separated the two of you. “Look at me.” You did. Slowly and warily, but you did. “Does it look like I’m lying to you?”

Narrowing your eyes, you regarded him carefully. He seemed serious. But, then again, do you ever really know someone? “I don’t know. I’ve never actually seen you lie before so I wouldn’t know the difference.”

“Fine. Ask me what color my shirt is.”

“What color is your shirt?”

“White,” he deadpanned. You glanced down at his chest. His shirt was black.

“Jungkook!”

He threw his head back and released a full bellied laugh. Even in your exasperation you couldn’t help but soften a little. “I’m sorry, darling. I couldn’t help myself.” Annoyed, you huffed and spun to face the cash register. Stabbing your finger onto the touchscreen, you ignored Jungkook’s obvious presence on the opposite side of the counter. Until his hand reached around the card reader and grasped a hold of your chin. The warmth of his fingers forced your head to turn to meet his.

“Come to dinner with me.” His voice was nothing but a rumble in his chest, his eyes so black and all-consuming you couldn’t do anything but agree with him. He seemed pleased by your response as his fingers tightened against your skin and a grateful smile flicked past his lips. His gaze darted down to your mouth and your breath froze in your chest.

“Are you going to kiss me?”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow. “Do you want me to?”

“No.” You tried to shake your head but his grip didn’t allow you much movement. He was taken aback by your answer, a small frown tugging at his mouth. You quickly backtracked to fix the situation. “I don’t want our first kiss to be in a grocery store. That’s a new low that I refuse to reach.”

Jungkook chuckled and tapped your chin gently. “Alright, darling. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Again, he kept his promise to you. He showed up at your parents house exactly at seven, wearing a button-down shirt and slacks. The tulips he had gotten for you was thrust into your hands the moment you opened the door. Flashing him a genuine smile, you hurried into the kitchen to set them in water while your mother grilled him on his birth time. You were quick to drag him away, practically throwing him towards the car as you waved goodbye.

“Sorry,” you sighed as Jungkook opened the passenger door for you. “She has a…thing for astrology. She’s probably creating your star map or whatever right now.”

“It’s okay,” he responded once he got into the drivers seat. “It’s sweet of her to care.”

You snorted. “She’s delusional is what she is.”

“So, you’re saying you don’t believe in astrology?”

“Do you?”

Jungkook shrugged as he pulled out of your dirt driveway. He looked so damn attractive behind the wheel it was honestly unfair. “Not really saying I do or don’t. All I know is that there are a lot of things out there that are out of our control. If believing in the stars and planets helps you gain some of that control back, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that.”

“God, don’t talk like that in front of my mother. She’ll want to start dating you.”

He grinned and placed a hand on your knee. “Tell her I’m already taken.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond to that. Not that he didn’t give you one, it was just that you literally had nothing to say. With just one sentence he opened the floodgates of your brain and the amount of thoughts that were flying through your conscious was painful. Anxiety fluttered in your stomach and you pressed your lips together to keep you from word vomiting onto him. No, it was better to keep your mouth shut and let the moment pass.

By the time you reached the restaurant you were a trembling mess of nerves. Were you guys dating? You thought this was just a ‘testing the waters’ date, not a ‘you’re my girlfriend now’ date. Did you have to make it Facebook official? You hated that shit.

Jungkook didn’t comment on your obvious distress, though. He merely placed a hand on the small of your back, ignoring how you jerked in surprise, and led you into the quiet bistro. Nodding politely to the hostess who was practically panting at the sight of him (you honestly couldn’t blame her) and pulled out your chair for you. When he sat down, he started talking. Idle chat at first. Commenting on one of the dishes, asking about the college classes you were taking at your local university. Before you realized it, wine was in your glass and your shoulders were loose. Previous nerves forgotten, you lost yourself in Jungkook. You drank, you ate, you laughed, and genuinely enjoyed his company. Honestly, it was the best date you’d ever been on.

“I have to be honest with you,” Jungkook spoke after he finished his raw steak. “I have an ulterior motive for asking you here tonight.”

“Oh,” you mumbled around the shrimp you had just tossed in your mouth. “So…this isn’t a date?”

“No, it is,” Jungkook clarified quickly around a dry chuckle. He seemed…nervous. It put you on edge immediately. “This is definitely a date. And, also, more.”

“More? What, is this a proposal too?” You were joking. A 100% joking. But Jungkook was staring at you so seriously it made you panic. “Jungkook, if you get down on one knee here I swear-”

“I’m not proposing,” he assured you. “This is something more than that.”

“More?” You parroted. Jungkook sighed.

“Do you know what a true mate is?”

Right there, in that quaint little bistro, on a date with quite possibly the most untouchable man you’d ever met, he explained how you were irrevocably his. His true mate, his soulmate.

Jungkook explained everything in great detail, which you appreciated, because honestly, you had no words. He explained how when he was born, the witch who cared for him told his father that his future glared brightly ahead of him, but only when he met his other half. True mates were rare. Mating was common, the wolves in his pack could have multiple mates or a lifelong one, but true mates were destiny. Someone or something out there had forged the two of you together. You were essentially each others other half. He was made for you and you were made for him.

“But…aren’t true mates only for wolves? I thought it’s impossible for a human to be a true mate,” you asked in a shaky voice once Jungkook took a breath.

“It was supposed to be impossible. Until, I met you.” Jungkook stared at you with a sort of reverence that made your entire body blush. “I have no idea how you are. I’ve spent hours researching. I’ve consulted with members of my pack and others. No one knows why.”

“Are you sure, though? I mean…what if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.” Jungkook shook his head. “I visited the witch right after I met you. She took one look at me and told me that I had finally found my true mate. She said she’d never seen a future so bright before.”

You had no words for that. For the first time in your life, you were speechless. Jungkook seemed to understand. He let you sit in silence as he paid for the bill and walked you out to the car. The drive back to your parents house was the same. You couldn’t speak. The shock rendered you stupid.

By the time Jungkook pulled into the driveway you still hadn’t spoken a word to each other. You stepped out of the car before he could open the door for you. Walking up to the porch steps in a trance, you didn’t hear him follow you until he clasped your wrist in his hand. Turning to face him, you were surprised to see his brown eyes so big. They practically sparkled in the moonlight and he looked so soft and sweet you nearly melted into the wood beneath your feet.

“Please,” he whispered. “Can you…just - are you okay? You’ve been so quiet. I’m worried I’ve scared you off or something.”

With that voice, it was impossible to deny him. So, you said the first thing that popped in your head. “Do we have to make it Facebook official?”

Jungkook stared at you before bursting into laughter. “Really? That’s all you have to say?”

You blushed and glanced down. “I’m just worried, that’s all. I can’t remember my Facebook password so even if you wanted to change it I don’t think it’ll work.”

“So that’s why you never accepted my friend request,” Jungkook teased. Before you could squeak out a response, he wrapped his arms around your waist and tugged you forward. You kept your arms crossed across your chest but let yourself fall against him.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whined as you buried your face into his shoulder. He smelled so good, a mixture of pine and spice. “My brain hasn’t worked since you told me I’m yours, so bear with me.”

Jungkook chuckled and gently swayed you from side to side. “Does that mean you’re okay with this? All of this?”

Sighing, you lifted your head up and stepped away from him. Jungkook was not impressed and pulled you back to him. Your heart swelled in your chest and you wrapped your arms around his neck in consolation. “Honestly? I haven’t really processed anything. You’ve had your whole life to come to terms with this. I just found out thirty minutes ago that I’m someone’s soulmate. It’s a lot to take in.”

Jungkook nodded as he tapped his fingers against your hips. “I know. It’s a lot…I’m a lot. I just want you to know that you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be with me. I won’t-”

Now it was your turn to burst into laughter. You couldn’t believe those words had left his mouth. It was easily the most absurd thing you’d ever heard. “Jungkook, I want to make something very clear. I have no problem being your true mate. That’s not the issue here. Well, there really isn’t an issue. It’s just…hard to believe, I guess. I have to process that this is my new reality.”

“Really?” Jungkook perked up and looked so fucking cute you couldn’t help but cup his cheeks. His skin was so warm despite the cold autumn air that surrounded you both. “You want to do this? Be with me? Be mine?” All you could do was nod. You were so overwhelmed with emotions. The shock was evident, but a piece of you was so happy. You felt whole.

Jungkook’s face split into a wide smile that caused his nose to scrunch up. He wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around. Squealing, you slung your legs around his hips and held on. Normally, you’d rather die than show this much affection to someone. But, this was Jungkook. Your soulmate.

“So…what do we do now?” You asked once Jungkook set you down. “Is there, like, a ceremony or something?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted as he stared down at you. He had a hand against your jaw and was rubbing your cheek tenderly. “I really didn’t think I’d get this far.”

You scoffed at his ridiculousness. While recognizing you were Jungkook’s true mate was going to take some time, believing that he thought you’d deny him was utter nonsense. “What if…what if we date, first?” You suggested timidly. “I know that sounds kind of weird considering we’re supposed to be the loves of each others lives. But, I don’t really know you all that well. And, I think this is going to take sometime for me to get used to. Maybe we should date, get to know each other, and just learn how to be with one another.”

“Whatever you want,” Jungkook agreed. “We can do whatever you want. Just as long as I have you, I’m happy.”

Two years passed.

Two blissful, wonderful years. Two years of dating, two years of loving, two years of being Jeon Jungkook’s. It was everything you could’ve asked for and more. You had never felt so loved and cherished in your entire life. He respected you, he took care of you, and most importantly, he was there for you in every sense. Since the moment you met him, you hadn’t been alone. He hadn’t let you. Jungkook knew you better than you knew yourself.

And, it was the same for him. You were there for him when he transitioned into the leader of his pack. You were there when he took over the CEO position from his father and encouraged and supported him every step of the way. You let yourself be loved and in return he let you love him. It was wonderful.

Except, for one tiny thing.

While the emotional aspect of your relationship flourished and bloomed into something beautiful, the physical side remained stagnant. Make out sessions and heavy petting were a norm in your relationship. At first, it didn’t bother you. In fact, you loved that Jungkook was taking things so slow and so seriously. But, eventually, your needs began to grow. You found yourself wanting him in more ways than one, wants that only he could satisfy. Jungkook refused. Every time.

It wasn’t like he refused your every need. No, Jungkook was extremely attentive. When it came to himself, that’s when things got dicy. He had no problem spending hours between your legs, worshipping you until you were crying from the overstimulation. Yet, he wouldn’t let you anywhere near him. Not without lack of trying on your part. The minute your hands went down to his waistband, he pushed you away. Every time you tried to dip your mouth to the obvious bulge in his pants, he lifted you up and kissed you breathless until you forgot your name. It wasn’t until after a year of dating that he finally let you grind on his clothed cock. Even then, he held off until you finished and then walked out with quite possibly the worst case of blue balls. You hated that he did this to himself. The worst part was, you couldn’t understand why.

The one time you had brought it up to him it had resulted in the worst fight the two of you had ever gotten into. It was the only argument that was never really resolved. After the yelling and the tears, all you got out of Jungkook was that mating with a wolf was not pretty. It was extremely dangerous and he refused to put you in that kind of danger. End of discussion. No matter how hard you tried to persuade him or broach the subject, he shut it down. Hard. Eventually, you gave up.

He even spent his ruts away from you. Every three months, he left you for a week. You knew he had a place somewhere up in the mountains and you assumed that’s where he went. You had no idea. There was no point even asking to come along. You loved your boyfriend and didn’t want to purposely give him a heart attack. You hated it when he left. As much as you tried to hide it and convince him that you were just fine, he wasn’t stupid. Being away from him was tough. A piece of you was missing whenever he was gone. And you were only whole again when he returned.

This past week had been one of those weeks. He had left on Sunday for the mountains. He was agitated and clingy, how he normally was pre-rut. Jungkook wouldn’t let you leave his side and you spent most of the weekend on his lap or wrapped in his arms. Not that you minded. When he left your parents house on Sunday night, you’d had to coax him out of the door. Promising him that you’d be okay and that you’d see him next week. It wasn’t until several kisses later did Jungkook finally leave.

While you’d been doing this for two years, it never got easier. More manageable? Sure. But definitely not easier. All you could do was go through the motions. You went to work at the local bakery, came home and helped your mom with dinner, watched TV with your dad before going to bed. Taehyung and Jimin would visit often, threatened by Jungkook to keep you company. While you assured them it wasn’t necessary, you secretly didn’t mind. They made you laugh and made you temporarily forget your boyfriend was miles away from you. Sometimes, if you were lucky, he’d call you to tell you goodnight. But those times were rare. Normally, you didn’t hear from him until Friday or Saturday when he was finally coming out of his rut and returning to the world.

By the time Sunday rolled around, you were a jittery ball of nerves. Not in a bad sense. You were just excited. The anticipation killed you and it took all of your willpower to sit and wait for his text to tell you to come over. Your parents always left you alone on these Sundays, unable to deal with your hyperactiveness and constant fidgeting.

This Sunday was no different. You puttered around your room for the better part of the day. You spent the other part in the kitchen, baking like your life depended on it. Jungkook loved your cookies and you always made sure to come over with at least three batches after his ruts. He always said that was his second favorite part about coming home, after seeing you, of course.

You had just finished packaging the final batch in a glass cookie jar when your phone dinged. You didn’t have to read the message, you knew exactly what it said. Pure joy rushed through your system as you threw on your coat and shouted a hasty goodbye to your parents. Juggling the cookies and car keys, you sprinted to your car. The drive to Jungkook’s was thankfully not long. About ten minutes, as long as you didn’t hit any traffic on the main road. Luck was on your side, though, and you showed up at Jungkook’s house in eight minutes.

Taehyung’s car was in the driveway when you pulled up, which wasn’t odd. Although Jungkook owned the house, the members of his pack were almost always around. While most preferred to travel in their wolf forms, you knew Taehyung and Namjoon preferred cars. Something about being able to listen to their own music without comments from the peanut gallery. You didn’t really understand and didn’t really need to. You had just chalked it up as one of their many quirks.

Carrying the trays of cookies in both hands, you shut your car door with your foot before speed-walking up the stone walkway to Jungkook’s home. The screen door was shut, but the wooden door was swung wide open. You had just reached for the metal handle when you heard it.

A deep, threatening growl ripped through the peaceful quiet and froze you in place. You knew it was Jungkook. While you had only heard it once, you’d never forgotten it. It was when the two of you had attended a party and an alpha from a neighboring pack had cornered you in the hallway. Jungkook had found you cowered against the wall as the other alpha had caged you in. The sound that had left his chest had given you equal parts comfort and fear. Comfort, because he was there and you knew you were safe. Fear, because you could see in the way he bared his teeth and how his muscles vibrated, he had been furious and bloodthirsty.

That’s what you felt now, fear.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

From your vantage point in front of the screen door, you could see directly into the kitchen. Taehyung was leaning against the granite countertop and Jungkook was seated at the island. The tension was so thick you practically choked on it.

“Enough, Taehyung.”

“No,” Taehyung snapped, seeming just as angry as Jungkook. “I’m not dropping it. Not this time.”

“Yes, you will,” Jungkook snarled. “I’m not having this conversation with you.”

“Too fucking bad.” While Taehyung was also an alpha, he acted so much like a beta you never really noticed. Until now. “I’m not going to sit by and watch you do this to yourself anymore. Not spending your ruts correctly is only causing you more harm than good.”

“I’m doing things the way I want to, and it’s working-”

“The hell it is!” Jungkook growled at the interruption but Taehyung ignored him. “It’s not working, and you know it. Anyone with two fucking eyes knows it. It’s getting so bad that the pack is noticing, too. Even Namjoon has realized something is wrong, and he’s as oblivious as they come.”

“If they have a problem with me they can take it up with me.”

“No, they can’t. Because you won’t listen. Your head is so far up your ass you can’t even hear yourself anymore. What you’re doing right now is not working. Something needs to change.”

“Like what?” Jungkook spat.

“You know what,” Taehyung bit back. Jungkook was practically vibrating from rage. You knew you needed to go get someone, someone from the pack to calm the two of them down. Things were only escalating, but you couldn’t move. Your brain screamed at you to run but your legs were rooted in place. “That’s is what’s so frustrating, Jungkook. This, all of this, could be solved. She’s right there-”

“Don’t.” Jungkook stood up so fast the chair he sat on flew backwards and hit the wall with a resounding crack.

“Why?” Taehyung threw his arms up in the air. “Why not? I don’t get it-”

“Because I don’t want her!” Jungkook yelled, the force of it rang throughout the house. You had no idea who the she was that they were referring to. You assumed it was someone from the pack. It was well-known that wolves with human mates sometimes turned to other she-wolves to help with their ruts. You figured that’s what Jungkook did whenever he went away for a week. It had bothered you at first, but you knew he had his needs and that they were at a biological level. You refused to make him feel guilty or ashamed for taking care of himself.

“You don’t want her?” Taehyung was enraged. You could tell by the way he straightened his spine and unfurled himself to his full height. Jungkook bristled in response and the muscles in his back strained against the thin material of his shirt.

“No, I don’t!” Jungkook exploded. “What don’t you understand about that? I don’t want her around me. I don’t need her, I’m fine on my own. The thought of having her there when…God - it makes me physically ill.”

“She’s your girlfriend. Above all of that, your true mate. You’re seriously going to deny yourself of her, for what? Just because you don’t like having her around?”

Oh.

That’s when it hit you. They weren’t talking about some random she-wolf. They were talking about you. You were the one Jungkook didn’t want. You were the one Jungkook didn’t need. You were the one he didn’t like having around. As the weight of the words sunk into your mind, you felt your chest becoming tighter and tighter.

Then, you’re heart broke right in half. You dropped the container of cookies and didn’t flinch when it shattered against the wooden slats. The sound unstuck your feet from their position on the porch and your fight or flight system took over. Without a second thought, you turned on your heel and ran.

You didn’t know if anyone was behind you, you didn’t turn around to check. Hands fumbled for the car door as you threw yourself into the drivers side. Pain ricocheted throughout your chest cavity and you struggled to breathe. Your brain was blank, the only thing your mind did was move your body to get you somewhere safe. You had to leave and you had to leave now.

Miraculously, your fingers found your keys and inserted them into the ignition on the second try. A flutter of movement occurred to the left of you but your eyes didn’t let you look that way. Instead, they focused on the rearview mirror as you reversed out of the driveway. Your right hand found the gearshift and moved it to drive. Soon, you were tearing down the street as your ears refused to register the agonized howls that echoed behind as you kept staring forward. Adrenaline pumped through your system and your body shivered in response, the splash of hormones had created a blanket of fake calm over you. The emotions, the pain, the thoughts were swirling inside of you, ready to break free and drown you, but your brain wouldn’t allow it.

It wasn’t until you reached the end of your long driveway that you felt the original spike of adrenaline fade away. Your mother was in the front, tending to the flowers, and looked up when she saw your car fly into its usual spot. She stood up and her face twisted into a frown when you got out of your seat.

“Honey, your aura…it’s concerning.” The blanket was yanked away and the pain crashed over you.

You couldn’t say a word, all you could do was collapse in your mother's arms and cry, cry, cry.

It took you two days to calm down. The tears had stopped rolling and your shoulders no longer shook from trying to hold your sobs behind your teeth. Your mother hadn’t left your side, leaving your father to answer the door whenever someone knocked. The only person who did was Taehyung and Jimin. Jungkook never showed up.

Well, that was a lie.

Jungkook did show up every morning and night, without fail. But he never came to your doorstep. Instead, he was in the woods behind your house, patrolling, not daring to leave the protection of the forest. A part of you wondered if he was respecting your obvious need for space or if your mother had paid a witch to set up boundary lines that didn’t allow him to cross. Either way, you were grateful that you couldn’t see him. There was an incessant tugging in your heart to be near him but you staunchly ignored it, which would’ve been impossible if you saw his achingly beautiful face.

I don’t want her. I don’t need her. Having her there makes me physically ill. Those three sentences played in a constant loop in your head, like a horror movie you couldn’t escape from. You were the protagonist who couldn’t escape the maze, but the villain wasn’t kind enough to kill you off. No matter what you did, your brain wouldn’t stop repeating those three sentences. Your mother burned sage, she pressed crystals into your palms, she muttered ritual after ritual, but nothing worked.

You hated how affected you were. You had always told yourself that you would never be the girl who’d get so wrapped up in someone else they didn’t know who they were anymore. Independence was something you prided yourself on, but you seemed to be at a complete loss now. You couldn’t stop the waves of sadness and self-hatred at your depressed state. It was amazing how empty you felt yet so full of pain at the same time. Your mind and heart couldn’t seem to decide which hurt worse; your heart for having your soulmate so obviously reject you, or your brain for trying to make sense of the situation. When did this happen? How did this happen? How had you been so blind as to not see it?

“I don’t think we’re soulmates,” you rasped to your mom on the third morning. It had been the first words you had spoken to her since you had fell into her arms. She looked up from the bundle of herbs she was smoking.

“Why do you say that?”

You stared at your hands that had curled in on themselves. “I don’t make him happy. I-I never realized how uncomfortable I made him. I wish I had known. How did I miss it?”

Your mother tutted gently and gathered you in her arms. She smelled of lavender and wax. “This is good. I’m glad you’re letting yourself have this moment. Let’s sit in this and allow yourself to be embedded here.” But you didn’t want to have this moment. You didn’t want to have any moment and you’ve felt enough to last a lifetime. Instead, you rolled over, let sleep overtake you and tried to ignore the distant howling that rattled your window pane.

By nightfall of the fourth day, you were forced out of bed. Partly by choice, partly by force. Your parents had dipped out to run to the grocery store, despite your mother’s insistence that she could stay. You and your father managed to convince her to leave and you had gotten up to wave them goodbye. Sure, your heart was broken, but the least you could do was kiss them on the cheek before they left. You had turned around to shuffle into the kitchen to try and shovel something down your dry throat when a loud knock sounded at the front door. Hesitating, you carefully peeked through the kitchen window and saw Jimin on your front doorstep, dressed in all black.

Sighing, you stumbled over and pulled the door open. You figured you couldn’t avoid them for much longer. “Hey, Jimin.”

“Christ, you look like shit.”

You huffed out a laugh as Jimin stared at you in horror, not having the energy to be offended. You also knew, in a weird way, that this was Jimin’s way of caring for you. “Yeah. My mother’s covered all the mirrors in the house.”

Jimin nodded as he glanced at you from head to toe. “I want to ask if you’re okay but…” He gestured to your gaunt frame swaddled in a heavy sweatshirt and sweatpants. For the first time in two years, they were your own clothes, not Jungkook’s.

“I’m fine, Jimin,” you heaved a heavy sigh and leaned against the doorframe. “Do you want to come in? I think my mom boiled some tea not too long ago.”

Jimin shook his head. “Can’t. Jungkook would have a fit if I got that close to you right now. I’m already pushing my luck just by showing up.” He doesn’t care, you thought bitterly, and almost said it out loud but you caught yourself at the last second. Jimin wasn’t stupid, though. He knew what you were thinking. “Hey,” he murmured, eyes going soft, “are you ready to talk about it?”

“No.” You shook your head. A wave of sadness washed over you but the telltale prick of tears didn’t come.

Jimin understood. He tucked his hands into his pockets as he rocked back onto his heels. “Are you going to talk to him?”

Letting out a heavy breath, you crossed your arms over your chest. “I know I have to. I just…I just need time.”

“Take however long you need.”

It was another 48-hours before you finally snapped. While you had spent the majority of the two days that had passed to make yourself resemble a human being, you couldn’t focus. You couldn’t move on. Why?

Because Jungkook wouldn’t leave you alone.

His presence was constant. He circled your house every hour of ever day, the large shadow of him in wolf form darkened the trees behind your house. The howling had stopped but the pacing hadn’t. You hoped he was at least sleeping, but then you got annoyed at yourself for caring. You didn’t know why he was out there, it made no sense. Jungkook’s words were so different from his actions it made your head spin.

But, you needed to move on with your life. You had to. The only way it was going to happen was if Jungkook did too. It hurt. God, did it hurt. Yet, as sad and utterly pathetic as it sounded, you were used to the pain at this point, had resigned yourself to it. A part of you worried you wouldn’t know what to do without it.

Shaking off that depressing thought, you tugged on your rain boots and stepped outside for the first time in a week. The air was heavy with the promise of rain, the clouds low and gray. You tugged the hood up on your sweater to prevent your hair from completely frizzing out before you walked to down the back deck steps.

The backyard of your parents house was expansive. The home you had grown up in sat on top of a sloping hill that your mother had turned into her personal greenhouse. You stepped past rows of raised garden beds and pruned plants until you reached the line where the neatly mowed grass met the twisted ferns of the forest floor. As you had suspected, the ground was scorched with the evidence of past rituals. While your mother hadn’t out right admitted, you had figured someone had come and created a boundary line. It was obviously specific to Jungkook since Jimin and Taehyung were still able to visit. While your mother’s methods were extreme, you understood. As difficult as it was to move on with your life with Jungkook sequestered to the forest, you couldn’t imagine what it would’ve been like if he was within a few feet of you.

With a deep inhale, you sat down on the damp grass and waited. After a few minutes, you could hear the faint sounds of paws hitting the wet earth. The galloping got louder and louder until there was a momentary stretch of silence before it changed to footsteps.

When Jungkook emerged from the trees, you weren’t prepared. Although you knew you wouldn’t be, you still weren’t expecting it to hurt this bad. Your chest squeezed painfully at the first look of his broad form. Technically, it had been two weeks since you two had truly seen each other, the longest you’d ever gone. What hurt the most was how badly you longed for him. You wanted nothing more than to run straight into his arms, bury your face into his chest, and forget everything. Just forgive and give your heart what it wanted. But you remained firmly in place.

Jungkook looked as if he had seen a ghost. Which, to be fair, was probably true since you hadn’t seen the sun in seven days. His normally golden skin was pale and even from where you sat you could see the dark circles bruising under his eyes. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping. You hated that you noticed. You hated that you cared. He was dressed in all black and his chest strained against the material of his sweater. His hands were balled into tight fists at his side and the sight reminded you of why you were here.

“Hi.” Probably wasn’t the best start but it was the best you could do. Jungkook didn’t respond so you soldiered on. “I-I know you don’t want to be here, so I’ll make this quick. I just…wanted to apologize. I had no idea I made you so uncomfortable. I’m not sure how long you’ve felt this way about me, not that it really matters, but I wish you had told me sooner. Maybe things would’ve been easier for you, who knows.” You released a heavy sigh and tried to shove down the stone in your throat as you forced the next words out of your mouth. “But, all of that doesn’t matter anymore. I think I understand what you need, now. I know you loved me at one point, but I’m obviously not what you need anymore. And…t-that’s okay - I swear it is. All I want is for you to be happy, Jungkook. And I think, in order for that to happen, I need to move on. We both need to move on-”

“Stop it,” Jungkook broke in with a harsh voice that cut your sentence in half. “Stop talking.”

It felt like he had slapped you in the face. A wave of humiliation washed over you and you visibly flinched. Staggering to your feet, you locked your gaze onto your boots in an attempt to hide the tears that dripped down your nose. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, not expecting it to change anything. You began to turn away but Jungkook stopped you in your tracks, again.

“Wait, no - stop. Stop. Please…don’t go,” he pleaded. When you turned around, his eyes were frantic. Jungkook’s hand was raised from his side as if he thought about reaching out to you but something stopped him. His words were at war with one another and you were caught in the middle, at a loss for what he was trying so desperately to convey to you.

“Jungkook, I’m so confused.”

“I know. I’m sorry. God, I’m sorry.” Jungkook tucked his head into his hands before dropping down into a squat. “This is all wrong. This is all so wrong.”

You knew you should walk away. You had said your piece, it was time to move on, just as you had said. Yet, you couldn’t. It was as if your heart was tethered to him and your body couldn’t handle the pain of walking away. “Listen-”

“I don’t know what to do.” He cut you off but the bubbles of anger that had risen from being interrupted popped once you saw how lost he looked. His tattooed fingers threaded through his hair, allowing you to see the pure anguish that twisted his features. “Whenever I feel like this, I come to you. Because you always know what to do. Any situation, no matter what, you can handle it. It’s something I’ve always admired about you.”

The way he spoke to you now, so reverently and so full of awe, made your head spin. Nothing made sense. It was such a blatant contrast to the brutality that he had spat out a week ago. As much as you wanted to believe what he said now, those stupid words could not get out of your head. It was a constant reminder that never shut up.

“I don’t know what to do either,” you admitted in a quiet voice.

“Tell me,” Jungkook begged, as if he couldn’t and refused to comprehend what you had just told him. “Tell me what to do, and I’ll do it. Whatever you want from me, I’ll give you.”

You were shaking your head before he could finish. “There’s nothing you can do, Jungkook. Nothing.”

“Don’t say that.” He stared at you, horrified. “Don’t say that to me. Please, there has to be something.”

“What could there be?” You cried. Tears streamed down your cheeks now. “You said it yourself, being near me makes you sick. Why would I stay? Why would you want me to? I refuse to make you uncomfortable anymore - so that’s that.”

“It isn’t,” Jungkook argued back. “It can’t be. I-I can’t lose you, I can’t. I need to make this right, please just let me. Please.”

But, you were tired. You were so fucking tired. You were exhausted of the emotional rollercoaster that you were on that you just wanted to crawl away and hide. All the fight seeped out of you as your shoulders slumped forward. Jungkook saw this and the blood drained from his face. You were giving up, he could see it, and it scared the shit out of him.

“Jungkook, I need to go, okay? I-I can’t do this.”

“No!” Jungkook shouted and shot up to his feet. The pure panic that choked his voice brought on a fresh set of tears that you struggled to hold back. “Just let me explain, okay? I swear to God, after you hear what I have to say, if you still want me to, I’ll let you go. I won’t fight you on it. But, please let me tell you the truth. Give me a chance to make this right. You deserve that.”

You hesitated for a moment. Deep down, you knew you should let him talk. Not because you necessarily thought he deserved to, but because he was right. You did deserve the truth, no matter how much it broke your heart. With a heavy sigh and a quick swipe of your cheeks, you nodded. Once Jungkook was sure you weren’t going to leave, he began pacing. Looking every bit like the wild animal you knew him to be but never got to see.

“Mating with a werewolf is…brutal. It’s intense, it’s painful and it isn’t pretty. It’s essentially a breeding session where I use you as a vessel to fulfill my innate biological needs. It’s not romantic, it’s not gentle. Even for she-wolves it can be too much. The thought of subjecting you to something like that - that type of pain…I couldn’t fathom it. I don’t think you understand just how precious you are to me. The image of you being battered and bruised because of me, something I did…it tormented me, day and night.” He paused for a moment, the pained look in his eyes made you shiver. You hated that he had gone through all of this turmoil on his own, and you especially hated how you never made more of an effort to try and relieve him of it.

“I couldn’t do it. That’s partially the reason I waited so long to tell you that you were my true mate. I knew ruts were something I would never expose you to even though it’s such a huge part of my life, a wolf’s life.” Jungkook looked you straight in the eye, the intensity of his dark gaze took your breath away. “I know the practices other wolves partake in when their own heats or ruts arrive. I know you know them too. But, I need you to understand something. The moment you allowed me to be yours and vice versa, I haven’t had anyone else since. I swear on my life, I’ve spent every single one of my ruts alone. I wouldn’t and I won’t do that to you.”

“Isn’t that painful, though?” Your voice cracked but neither one of you acknowledged it. While your knowledge on ruts were expansive, having done plenty of research since being with Jungkook, you had obviously never experienced one.

“It’s manageable. It’s way more painful for a she-wolf to go through her heat alone than it is for a male.” Jungkook clenched and unclenched his fists as he resumed his pacing. “The worst part is being away from you. I’ve been going through ruts since puberty, I can handle them. But not being able to be with you for a whole week…I hated it. Still do. I dread that three month mark. And as time went on, I became more and more miserable. Being apart from you was almost unbearable but the other option…I never even allowed myself to consider it.

“It came to the point where the pack was noticing. I wasn’t getting the proper pheromonal release from my ruts and it was beginning to affect those around me. Taehyung has been on my ass for months now to get over myself and take you with me during my next rut. Each time I’d give him some excuse, but it was getting harder and harder to justify what I was doing. At first, I was convinced it was because I was protecting you. But you’ve been so understanding and so patient with me and my life, those excuses were becoming useless. Eventually, I think it was because I was protecting myself. I was - am - so scared. I’m terrified that I could hurt you when I’m like that. That I wouldn’t be able to notice or worse, ignored, if something happened to you. Living with that type of fear became debilitating. So, I just kept my mouth shut and kept you away from that part of me.”

Jungkook shook his head and chuckled humorlessly. “Now I know that was the worst possible thing I could do. That I was just hurting you more. What you walked into last Sunday was a culmination of my frustrations that I was refusing to deal with. While it’s not a valid reason, I’m well aware of that, I need you to know that what you heard was not the truth. It couldn’t be further from it. Because the truth is that I’m hopelessly in love with you and the thought of being without you hurts worse than I ever thought was possible.”

It wasn’t the first nor would it be the last time that Jungkook left you speechless. It took you a full minute to process what he had said. Jungkook granted you the silence although he became increasingly more agitated as time passed. His boots scuffed the dead leaves that littered the ground and his pacing led him closer to the ashes that lay before your feet. Then, he’d suddenly stalk off with a growl as he was forced to keep away.

“I-” you cleared your throat around the lump that had found a home there. “I had no idea. This whole time…I thought it was because you didn’t want me.”

“God, no.” Jungkook swore heavily as his muscles bunched and coiled beneath his clothes. “The - the fact that…you - fuck. I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. That’s not it, that’s not it at all. You’re my dream girl, you’re the love of my life, and I want you every second of every day.”

Maybe it’s because you were emotionally drained and had no mental strength left. Maybe, you needed to hear those words from Jungkook more than you realized. Whatever the reason was, it wasn’t worth trying to figure out an explanation as you sunk to the ground and burst into tears.

Jungkook lost it across from you. Broken whines stained the air as he carded through his hair anxiously. He kept trying to get to you, to try to soothe you. But the boundary was unfortunately doing its job and each attempt was met with failure. Curses were spat out until eventually, he got as close as the boundary would let him and fell to his knees. He began spewing whatever came to mind first, unsure of what to do. All he knew was that you were crying because of him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He thought hearing you cry from your bedroom window was torture, but nothing could compare to hearing you break down in front of him. Nothing. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m sorry…please, I’m so sorry. I - don’t cry, darling. Please don’t. I’m so sorry I hurt you, I didn’t mean to, I swear.”

It wasn’t tears of heartbreak that leaked from your eyes. Instead, it was tears of relief. While your heart had wholly accepted his words as the truth, the logical part of you reminded yourself that the two of you had way more talking to do. This was far from over, but the relief of knowing that he loved you and he was yours…it was indescribable.

You finally lifted your head up and were shocked to find Jungkook’s cheeks glistening with moisture. Your only thought was to comfort him as you scrambled forward to do just that. Instead of feeling his smooth skin against the palm of your hand, you were blocked by what felt like a wall although nothing stood in your way. Frowning, you realized with a start that the boundary worked both ways. Jungkook let out a frustrated growl as he glared at the ashes that was stopping both of you from getting what you wanted. It was silent for a few moments until an idea popped into your head.

“Wait here,” you announced before jumping up and taking off for the house. Ignoring Jungkook’s distressed cry, you ran inside. You yanked your car keys off from their designated hook and quickly typed out a text to your parents to let them know where you were going before spinning around and sprinting back outside. Jungkook was where you left him, although he stumbled to his feet when he saw you reappear.

“I’m going to your house,” you announced, breathless. “No witch is stupid enough to go that far into werewolf territory. If you want to talk to me there, then follow me.”

Jungkook stared at you for a heartbeat until the words you spoke clicked. “Y-yeah. Yes. Okay. I’ll be there.”

With a curt nod, you ran to your car. For the first time in a week, a faint sprout of hope bloomed in your chest.

It was the longest and shortest ten minutes of your life. The drive to Jungkook’s seemed to last a lifetime but also was over within a blink of an eye. The tears had stopped flowing by the time you pulled your car into his driveway, but you felt the telltale prick in your eyes when you saw him burst from the trees. Your heart ached as his long legs ate up the distance between you two as you wrestled with your seatbelt and threw the car into park. By the time you freed yourself, he was at the hood of your car.

The two of you stared at each other for a few breathless moments. You weren’t sure who moved first, but it didn’t matter as you crashed into each other’s arms. The moment his searing warmth enveloped you, you dissolved into another puddle of sobs. The feeling of his thick arms banded across your back, his torso molded to yours, and his hair tickling your ear, felt so right. Another wave of crippling relief washed over you and you practically melted against Jungkook. But he held you up, just like he always had.

He leaned against the front bumper while his hands were everywhere. Cradling your head into his neck, smoothing over your hips, or running circles over your shoulders. He was crying, you could feel the tears dampening your hair. But you were soaking his shirt so no one was in any position to complain.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“Don’t,” Jungkook hissed fiercely as he squeezed you tighter. “Don’t apologize. This isn’t your fault, not in the slightest.”

“Kook,” you sighed and pulled your head back to get a good look at him. “It takes two to tango.”

“Not this time,” he argued. “You’ve put up with so much. You’re everything I could’ve asked for and more. It was my own fears that got in the way and created this mess. And I’m so sorry for that, darling. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shushed him gently, running your thumbs over his cheeks to swipe at the dried tears. “I know you’re sorry. I believe you.”

Jungkook dipped his head further into your touch with a pleased rumble vibrating through his chest. He kissed your palm gently, sniffing at your wrist. It made you giggle. “Missed that,” Jungkook mumbled as he stared at you with stars in his eyes. “Missed you. Missed you so much.”

A fresh wave of tears cascaded down your cheeks. You were positive that you looked like a mess, hair in a knotted bun, face red and puffy and you kept sniffling every two seconds. But Jungkook looked at you as if you held the world in your hands. “Missed you too,” you murmured in return. “Please, next time, just talk to me. I may not have the answers you’re looking for all the time, but I’ll always be here to listen.”

“I know,” Jungkook whispered. “There won’t be a next time, promise. If I happen to be stupid enough to put us in this position again, I give you full permission to punch me in the face.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” You lifted yourself onto your toes to brush your lips against his, dropping back down to your feet when his head chased after yours. “Or maybe I just won’t kiss you for a week.”

Jungkook’s eyes widened comically and he actually looked terrified. “I’d rather you just punched me in the face.” You tilted your head back and laughed. Jungkook tugged you closer and nosed your throat before peppering gentle kisses along the exposed skin. Sighing happily, you tilted your head to allow him better access and rested your cheek on his shoulder.

“I love you,” you said quietly. Jungkook froze for a split second before he sank against you. Squeaking in shock, you scrambled to brace yourself against the sudden weight pressing you towards the house.

“Say it again,” Jungkook pleaded. You couldn’t deny him. Dusting feather light kisses to the shell of his ear, you repeated those three words again, and again, and again. Each time you did, Jungkook held you a little tighter and cried a little harder.

Eventually, you’re murmured promises became softer and softer until the two of you just enjoyed each others presence. “C’mon,” you finally whispered as you started to lift yourself off of him. Jungkook growled and refused to let you move an inch farther. “Kook, come on. Let’s go inside. Your ass must be numb by now.”

“Don’t care,” he grumbled but he at least shuffled forward a bit more so that your combined weight wasn’t squashing his ass against your car.

“You might say that now, but you won’t be saying that later.”

Jungkook grunted at your logic but he at least raised his head and looked at you with the sweetest eyes. “Please tell me you’re staying.”

Giggling, you asked, “do you want me to?”

“Obviously,” he scoffed. “I want you here forever.” Jungkook tilted his head thoughtfully. “Actually, you should just move in with me.”

Christ, this boy was going to give you whiplash. You couldn’t help but laugh. “Jungkook, we just made up. The whole reason we were in this mess is because of poor communication. Don’t you think we should work on that first before anything else?”

“But…we could work on communication all the time if we’re together 24/7.” Despite his pout, you knew he wasn’t totally serious. Although you were sure it was going to come up again.

“Alright, you maniac,” you said fondly. “Take me to bed.” Jungkook’s chest rumbled happily as he lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his trim waist.

It wasn’t a long walk to his bedroom, but the exhaustion of the past week caught up to you and the gentle rocking of his steps lulled you into a serene state. Not quite asleep, but not quite awake either. You were aware when Jungkook placed you on his bed, practically engulfed in his scent. The last thing you remember before falling asleep was the words Jungkook pressed into your hair has he slid in behind you.

“Love you forever, my darling girl.”

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