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oddinary4bts · 1 month

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Chasing Cars | ch 14 (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, this chapter contains mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: mentions of alcohol, a creep at the gym, mentions of Lisa and what happened in the last chapter, cursing, oc and jk finally talk and it hurts, jk gets punched in the face, explicit content: hickey, breast/nipple play, jerking off, oral sex (male and female receiving), hair pulling, ass slapping, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid), big dick!Jungkook, creampie

☆word count: 12.2k

☆a/n: someone said more angst? but this time with a true side of hope (maybe). Hope you guys like it <3 and thank you to @moonleeai for beta-ing, you're the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

Wednesday, October 7th

Days have gone by. Weeks, actually - September giving way to October. You’ve been in a daze, going through the first month of the semester in slow motion. You’ve been focusing on classes more, studying in all the free time that you have, when you’re not going to the gym.

You’ve started going to the gym on a regular schedule. Three to four times a week, most of the time accompanied by Yoongi. It’s easy to know why - Yoongi’s got a crush on the guy who works at the reception of the gym. You think it’s good. Yoongi’s allowed to move on from Hoseok, to finally find someone else who is worth his love.

It gives you hope that one day you’ll get that for you too. But you’re not there yet - far from it. You’re still feeling the repercussions of that Friday evening when you foolishly believed you and Jungkook were fixable.

Now you think the whole world lies between you and him, and you doubt anything will ever fix that.

He’s texted you once, since that Friday evening. A few days later, he asked if you wanted to talk. You ignored the message - it was the hardest thing you’ve ever done, but it had to be done. Too much pain stands between you and him for you to be able to be with him.

At least that’s what you’ve been telling yourself. Like a mantra - you’ve been repeating to yourself that you can’t be with him because he’s Taehyung’s best friend, because it would ruin his friendship. And Jungkook deserves his friends, deserves to move on with Lisa if that’s what he wants to be doing.

You know he’s not. You know that night was the last time he saw Lisa outside of their friend group gatherings. You know because last week you were at the bar with Ria, and you’d somehow ended up at Taehyung’s table. You’d felt Lisa’s scalding gaze on you the whole time, yet she’d remained nice to you, polite like she’d always been.

Jungkook has broken more hearts than just yours after all.

You know they have stopped hanging out because Sera asked Lisa where Jungkook was that night. She answered that she didn’t know, that they’d stopped seeing each other. She’d said so looking at you, as if trying to throw the blame on you, but it’d gone unnoticed to the table.

Perhaps because they were drunk. You wouldn’t know - you’ve stopped drinking since that first party of the semester when everything came crashing down.

You take a long sip from the water bottle you always carry to the gym. You’ve been stretching on the black mats, in the smaller room in the corner that some people also use for yoga. Right now it’s just you and some guy you’ve seen around a couple of times before, and you’ve been trying to ignore the way he keeps looking at you.

You wish there was a gym nearby for women only, but there unfortunately isn’t, so you suffer the stares once in a while, though they aren’t as frequent as you initially thought they would be. Maybe because most of the time you aren’t alone - you think maybe you shouldn’t have come alone today.

Luckily enough you’re almost done, so you just move on to the last stretch, the muscles in your back straining for a few seconds before they relax as you take a deep breath. Once you’re done you stand up, heading to the cleaning station to get some paper that you spray with the cleaning spray, and then you walk back to the mat you used to clean it.

A second later you’re out the door, walking quickly to the women’s locker room.

A glance to your left makes your heart clench in your chest, so hard you think you might be about to go into cardiac arrest.

Jungkook is standing by a squat rack, gaze lowered, yet it’s like he senses you watching. His head immediately raises, and he meets your gaze for half a heartbeat before you look away, walking even faster just so that you don’t have to be in his presence anymore.

You could have chosen another gym. But this one is the cheapest and nearest option from your college, so you decided to still come here, even though you knew you’d see Jungkook once in a while. Luckily enough for you, you’ve been able to figure out his approximate gym schedule, and you’ve avoided the hours that he usually comes here.

Hell, he usually comes in the morning, and it’s almost nine pm.

Though you know the true reason why you’ve chosen this gym. Not that you would admit it to anyone - it just feels reassuring to see Jungkook once in a while, to know that he’s doing okay.

Even if the dark circles under his eyes tell you he might not be doing all that good at all. But you’re not close enough to him anymore to be allowed to care, so each time you just disappear the second you catch sight of him, hoping he doesn’t see you.

Your heart beats out of your chest the whole time you change in the locker room, and you tell yourself you’ll make a beeline for the front doors as soon as you’re out. It’s not as reassuring as you wish it was, and you have to take a few deep breaths before you walk out of the locker room.

A saccharine smile welcomes you outside, and you startle at the sight of the man who had been in the yoga room with you. He’s leaning against the wall, but the second he sees you walking out he pushes up from the wall, folding his arms on his chest.

You hear the distinct sound of alarm bells at the back of your mind as he says, “Hey.”

You swallow, searching for salvation as you glance around the gym, but there’s none to be found.

Jungkook’s not even by the squat racks anymore.

“Hey,” you reply, trying to sound polite.

“I see you here all the time,” the man adds.

You almost gag - you’ve never noticed him before, and the thought that he might have been staring at you multiple times makes you shudder.

“Oh,” you let out.

He smirks, and this time you gulp as you once again scan the gym.

“What’s your name?” the man asks.

Hell, he has to be in his early forties - aren’t there any women his age he could be hitting on instead?

“Sophie,” you reply as quickly as you can, saying the first name that comes to your mind.

“Well, Sophie, I was wondering if you wanted to grab a drink with me?”

You gulp. There’s something in the way he’s looking at you that makes you feel small, like he’s undressing you with his gaze, and you feel infinitely vulnerable in front of him.

“Huh, sorry, I’m busy tonight,” you say.

You make to walk past him, but he steps to the side, blocking your way. “Come on. I promise we’ll have fun.”

Ew.

“I am busy,” you insist as adrenaline flushes through you.

“Clearly,” the man drawls. “Come on, doll, I promise I’m a good time.”

“Excuse me?” you say, unable to help yourself.

The man laughs, but before he has time to say anything, an arm wraps around your shoulder, and you’re pulled into someone’s side. Your first reaction is to punch, but your hand stops midway as you meet Jungkook’s gaze, and everything fades away until it’s just you and him.

“Ready to go?” he asks.

Your eyes dip to his mouth. Fuck… He’s so close, and you’ve missed him so much, and your heart is reaching out for him, searching for him like it’s been doing for weeks.

“Yes,” you answer, and you don’t dare look at the man as Jungkook pulls you even closer.

“Hey, I was busy here,” the man comments, once again blocking your way.

“Well, this is my girlfriend, and we have plans tonight,” Jungkook says, levelling a glare at the man that you wish to never be on the receiving end of. “So respectfully fuck off.”

You wince, thinking that might aggravate the man. But when Jungkook tilts his head to the side with murder in his gaze, the man rolls his eyes, muttering something under his breath that awfully sounds like ‘Fucking bitch’. You have half a thought to punch him for it, but Jungkook steers you away, and despite the weeks and months between you, you feel yourself leaning against him.

The early fall night is warm outside, summer days clinging to October like you’re clinging to Jungkook’s waist right now. You don’t even know when you snaked your arm around his waist. You just know you’re holding him just as much as he’s holding you, and though you don’t talk, you hear thousands of confessions lingering in the air.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook asks softly when you’ve walked away from the gym, towards where you assumed he must have parked his car.

You surprise yourself by blinking back tears at his words, at this revelation that he still cares for you like you care for him.

“Shit,” you let out.

Jungkook lets go of you like he’s the one hurting you, and your arm falls at your side aimlessly as he steps in front of you.

“I’ll make a complaint against him,” he softly reassures you. “So that he can’t work out at this gym anymore.”

You nod, blinking away the tears. You succeed, and you take a deep breath before you meet Jungkook’s gaze.

You don’t think you were ready for the softness, for the yearning that his gaze holds right now. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He smiles, infinitely sadly. “Of course, Y/n. Do you want me to drive you home?”

You’re almost foolish enough to tell him that you already are home, here with him.

“Please,” you say.

He nods. “I’m parked this way.”

You follow him, clutching the straps of the duffel bag you’ve been using for your gym clothes. He’s parked closer than you thought he was, and just a minute later, you’re sitting in his car, and he’s driving you towards the dorms.

The silence is heavy in the car - filled with memories of you and him, and of the breaking that followed. You look at his profile as he drives, and he’s careful not to glance your way, like doing so is admitting maybe you both are still vulnerable for the other.

And you want to speak, want to voice the words haunting you. But you can’t. Not when you chose to not reply to him when he texted you weeks ago. Not when all you can picture is Lisa coming out of the bathroom wearing his shirt, while he stood there, mute, his head hanging low.

So you remain silent, as does he, up until he parks in front of the dorms. You swallow a lump in your throat as you lay a hand on the knob, ready to open the car, but he clears his throat, and your eyes snap to him.

“Do you…” he trails off, toying with his piercings. “Do you think you’ll ever move back home?”

The question is treacherous, a dagger that stabs right through your beating heart.

“I don’t think I can,” you answer in a whisper.

He nods once, not glancing at you. “Okay.” He wets his lips as he takes a deep breath, and then he finally shoots you a quick look. “I’m sorry.”

He truly does look sorry, apologetic, his big doe eyes once again filled with sadness and yearning and so many regrets you think he might be drowning in them.

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, and you offer him a tentative smile. “It’s fun to experience the dorm life a little.”

“Yeah?”

You nod. “Ria is a fun roommate.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “I’m glad she is.”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds longer, and you see he means so much more. You see the longing - it’s reflected in your own eyes. But you can’t be with him, not after all that happened. So you open the door, looking away from him even though it costs your soul to do so.

“Thank you for driving me,” you whisper.

“Of course,” he answers, voice heavy with emotions you don’t want to interpret.

Not when they might crush you with no chance of survival.

“I’ll see you around,” you add as you pick up your duffel bag from where you’d left it at your feet.

“See you around,” he echoes.

You take a deep breath, offer him one last tight-lipped smile, and then you shut the door, turning away from him before he can see the tears pooling in your eyes. Before you can let your heart break again, before you decide to go home with him after all.

Before you can accept that there were tears pooling in his gaze, too.

Thursday, October 10th

You like your Thursdays. You only have a class in the afternoon, and it’s your easiest class this semester, with a professor who genuinely loves what she’s doing and who teaches it grandly. It’s an engaging class, where she makes everyone participate, and though you usually hate those, she always manages to make everyone feel comfortable enough to actually participate.

You wish all your classes were like this, but alas, most of them suck.

But yes, you like your Thursdays. Maybe the sun shining bright on your walk home through campus contributes to it, the slowly-changing leaves in the trees beautiful in their multitudes of colours - some still green, others red, yellow, orange and brown. It makes for a pretty picture, and the warmth from yesterday still lingers around, so much so that numerous students are lounging on the lawn in front of the college, sharing snacks or studying or just taking in the sun while they still can.

Your heart was heavy all night yesterday, keeping you up almost till dawn, but the sun rays are healing today, so much so that the thought of Jungkook doesn’t hurt quite as much.

You get to the dorms with a smile tickling the corner of your lips. You usually head home with Nabi, but she said she wanted to go see Namjoon first, and so she went to his office after your class. So you’re alone when you push the door open, and you’re convinced you’re alone when you close the door behind you, kicking off your shoes.

You only realize Ria is hiding under a pile of blankets when she peeks through, startling you. You jump, ready to throw a punch if needed, and she starts laughing as she pushes the blankets off.

You laugh with her as your heart races in your chest, and you lay a hand on the beating organ to try and calm it.

“You scared the shit out of me!” you let out, and you put your backpack down next to Nabi’s bed - your bed for the last month.

“Sorry,” she apologizes, but you doubt she really is. “I needed this though.”

You slightly furrow your brows, and you only then make out her red nose and puffy, blood-shot eyes. It’s evident that she’s been crying, and your heart sinks in your chest at the sight.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, immediately moving closer to her, sitting on her bed close enough that your thigh touches hers through the many blankets.

She shifts to give you more space, and you climb on the bed properly.

“I don’t know, man,” she says, and her voice wobbles as tears fill her eyes again.

You tug her into a hug, and she cries against your chest. You’re mortified - you’ve never seen Ria cry, and there’s something wrong about it, like the sun just rose in the west instead of the east, or like it’s raining upwards. You hate it, and you rub her back soothingly, holding her closer as sobs rock through her.

“I just,” she lets out between two sobs. “He started seeing someone else.”

Oh.

You had an inkling it had to do with Seokjin, but now the confirmation breaks your heart for your friend, for the feelings she refused to admit to herself.

And now she’s too late, much like you were that Friday night when you ran home to Jungkook, hoping you’d be able to confess your love for him.

“I’m sorry, baby,” you whisper.

She raises her head long enough to wipe her cheeks and meet your gaze. “You said this would happen.”

And then she’s sobbing again, and you hold her close, not caring that she’s currently staining your shirt with her tears.

“And the worst part is that she’s so pretty,” Ria continues. “Clearly super smart too. Like obviously she’d be his type, you know.”

She pulls her phone out of the pile of blankets, and the screen turns to life as she angles towards her face. She then hands you her phone, and you see that she’s on a girl’s profile.

“Look at the story,” Ria says.

You click on it, and the picture that comes up is one of Seokjin looking to the side, laughing at something. He looks annoyingly perfect like that, his eye crinkling at the corner in joy.

The picture was also posted only twenty minutes ago, so you know this is fresh.

“How did you find this?” you ask.

Ria plops on her back, sighing dramatically as she looks up at the ceiling and at the glued fluorescent stars that you placed there the week after you moved in.

“He told me he was going on a date,” she admits, her lips jutting out in the hint of a pout.

“Oh?” you press.

“I know,” she grumbles. “Yes, we’ve started talking again.”

You think it’s progress, but you don’t mention it, not wanting to scare her when she’s finally admitting her feelings to herself.

“And he just told you he was going on a date?” you ask.

She nods, and tears well up in her eyes again, though this time she successfully blinks them again. “Yeah, we said we’d be friends? And yesterday he told me about the date, and about who he was going to go with.” Ria pulls one of the blankets over her face, shielding herself from the world. “Fuck, I even helped him pick out what to wear.”

You wince, and you’re glad she can’t see it. “You want to be just friends with him?” you ask.

“I don’t know,” she admits. “I just know that I’ve been stalking the girl obsessively since yesterday, and I saw the story as soon as she posted it.”

“Yikes,” you let out.

“I know,” Ria whines. “I’m such a mess.”

You pat the top of her head that still sticks out from underneath the blanket. “I think this is good.”

She pulls the blanket off her features, glaring at you. “How can you say that?”

“Because you’re finally realizing you have feelings for him, no?”

Her mouth falls open, but she doesn’t say anything. Just stares at you as her waterline increasingly becomes wet, and then tears fall onto her cheeks again. You quickly grab a tissue on her bedside table, and then you gently wipe her cheeks as she just keeps staring at you, clearly realizing that you are right.

That she’s in love with Kim Seokjin.

“Shit,” she lets out after a while. “What am I supposed to do?”

You offer her a gentle smile. “You tell him. You tell him before it’s too late and things go any further with the girl.”

“He did say he wasn’t going to stay with her late”, Ria says. “He’s got work at six.”

“So then text him at six, and ask him if he wants to hang out.”

She widens her gaze. “I can’t just do that,” she says.

You tilt your head to the side. “Why?”

She shrugs. “Because I am a fucking mess right now,” she grumbles.

You laugh, patting her head again. And though you agree she does look a mess, you know it’s fixable. Ria is easily the most beautiful person you know - even when she’s crying.

“Then let’s get you ready. Let’s eat something good, do your makeup and all that shit.”

She scrunches up her nose, yet a smile slowly tickles the corners of her lips. “And what do I tell him?”

“You tell him how you feel,” you say, and the parallel between your situation with Jungkook hits you so deep you think you almost fall off the bed. “You tell him how you feel before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late?”

What if you get there and he’s already with someone else?

“Then at least you’ll have tried,” you say. “And I’ll be here to comfort you if needed.”

She takes a deep breath, like she’s amassing all the courage in this world, and then she nods once curtly as she sits up. “Then at least I’ll have tried,” she echoes. She smiles, a smile that starts with her eyes and then trickles down to her lips. It’s a smile of hope, of sun after the storm, and you can’t help but reciprocate it even though your circumstances are so much more dire.

Even though you were too late.

“Let’s do it.”

*****

You sit outside, the last of the warmth of the day clinging to the edges of campus. The early fall smells of wet leaves and dirt and lingering sun rays, and you take it all in. It’s relaxing, calming, even though you’re aware you likely shouldn’t be out at this hour of the evening alone.

But Seokjin told Ria he’d come over, and you weren’t going to be the cockblock to their conversation.

You don’t know what you’re doing here. You’re in the park you had to go through last year to get to your apartment, the one where you’d fallen in a puddle of mud on Valentine’s Day, before you’d gotten home and Jungkook saved your pants from the stain.

Before your very first kiss with Jeon Jungkook, the first of a long chain that was only leading up to catastrophe.

Your conversation with Ria keeps replaying in your head. You’re aware her situation with Seokjin isn’t exactly the same as that of you and Jungkook, yet the parallels strike deep tonight, as you sit there in the park that saw the beginning of whatever it is that you and Jungkook were.

You were too late. At least that’s what you’ve been repeating to yourself for hours. Indeed, when you’d gone home that Friday night, he’d been with Lisa. It’d been proof that he was moving on, that he might have liked you one day but doesn’t anymore.

But then again, you’ve seen him wither - from a distance, obviously. You’ve heard what his friends say about him. How he’s been isolating himself, playing video games and just focusing on college. Because he has to live up to his father’s expectations - at least that’s what Jimin said when you were at the bar, and you learned that Jungkook and Lisa were over.

But you’ve seen him wither like a flower in the fall. His eyes growing heavier, his back never fully straight anymore like he can’t bear the weight that was placed on his shoulders. Or maybe that’s the effect that you have on him, and when you’re not around, he’s okay.

You really hope he is. At least then one of you wouldn’t be dying, breaking and breaking all over again whenever you think about everything that went down between you and him.

You wish he’d told you about Gabrielle. You wish he hadn’t held that promise, but then again it shows that Jungkook will do anything for those he cares about.

Like intervene when some creep is harassing you at the gym. Like driving you home to the dorms even though the atmosphere was tinted with bittersweet pain, with the memories of when you’d laughed in that same car on the way to New York.

Memories of when you’d given him a blow job after that party because you couldn’t keep your hands off him.

Then again, you reckon the memories of you and Jungkook aren’t confined to his car. They’re everywhere, because for months he’d followed you around everywhere, always in your heart.

Not that he’s left your heart. There’s still a hole shaped like him where he used to be, and nothing you’ve done has been able to do anything about it.

No, everything always leads back to him - even your friends falling in love anew leads you back to him, to the memories of when he’d whispered sweet nothings against your skin in the middle of the night. Of when he’d told you to sleep in his bed if you missed him - did he ever notice that you did? That you slept in his clothes, that you clung to him even though you’d told him that you were over?

Your heart breaks anew, always. It shatters like you’ve barely repaired it, and you know you haven’t. Hell, he’s always haunting you, like he’s the ghost haunting the hallways of your life.

You know he is. Because everything always leads back to him. Every conversation that you have reminds you of him, and you wish you could be Ria. Wish it wasn’t too late for you, wish Jungkook wasn’t Taehyung’s friend.

You wish that you didn’t care about all of that, that you could just go back to your apartment right now and tell Jungkook every secret you’ve carried in the nights you spent with him. You wish you could just say everything without holding anything back. Not because you wish that he was yours - no, only because you don’t think you’ll ever be able to move on if you don’t get the closure you never got with him.

Because there always were more words lingering in the air, more truths untold that hid in the deepest corners of your hearts, both yours and his.

There always were, but should there still be?

Can you just go up to him tonight and say everything, not caring about the consequences?

Isn’t that the advice you just gave to Ria?

You’re up before you’ve fully registered the thought. Before you realize that you’ve come to a certain catharsis sitting there tonight, as your friend confesses her love to the one she might be too late to have.

Your feet know the way, following that same trail you’ve walked a hundred times before, if not more. And your steps are sure, confident, like you haven’t spent months breaking yourself over him.

But you’re done breaking. You want healing, you want the sun to pierce the clouds that have been covering the land of your mind. You want some happiness, you want, like Yoongi, to be able to move on. You foolishly want, like Ria, to be able to tell Jungkook how you feel.

And so what if it impacts his friendship with Taehyung? You have a feeling the friendship’s already been impacted by Jungkook’s shattered heart.

You owe him to be able to heal, too.

You’re in front of the apartment, standing at the bottom of the short flight of stairs, all of ten minutes later. Looking up at the door, remembering when a paradise of you and Jungkook awaited you behind it.

Now, you think it’s hell on Earth awaiting you, but maybe there’s solace to be found in confronting the reason for the jagged pieces of your heart.

It occurs to you then that Taehyung and Ariane might be home, that they might end up being witnesses to something you so wish could be just yours and Jungkook’s.

You’ve had enough of Taehyung being at the back of your mind whenever it comes to Jungkook.

“Y/n?”

You startle for the second time that day, though this time you jump so high you think you might have jumped out of your skin.

Jungkook is standing to your left, gym bag in hand, and he looks at you with questions in his eyes, like he too can’t believe he gets to speak to you again in just a few days.

“Hey,” you let out.

He chews on his piercings, big doe eyes not leaving you. He doesn’t even blink, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he does so.

“What are you doing here so late?” he asks.

You smile softly, and your heartbeats don’t hurt as much as they usually do. Like this is where you were supposed to be tonight, after the gentleness of the afternoon.

Before your conversation with Ria, that is.

“Are Tae and Ari home?” you ask, not replying to his question.

He takes it in stride, taking a few steps towards you, though he stops at a safe distance from you. “No. Everyone’s out to the movie theatre right now.”

“Right now?” you echo.

He nods once. “They’re going to the ten pm show because Sera was working at the library until nine.”

Which means you have hours of blessed alone time with Jungkook to talk to him. You can’t help it - you look up to the sky, and watch the blindingly bright moon that reigns up there.

“Good,” you say.

He takes another step towards you, and you meet his gaze again, offering him another smile. He looks at it like it’s foreign, like he hasn’t spent months tangled up with you in his bed or yours, in New York City or here.

“Why are you here?” he asks again, his voice lower this time. Softer, gentler, like he’s afraid he’ll scare you away.

“Can we talk?”

His gaze widens almost unnoticeably, and his lips part like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say. He closes his mouth, gulps, and then says, “Sure, let’s go in.”

You end up following behind him, as he already had the keys in one hand. The apartment hasn’t changed at all since the last time you were here - since that Friday night Lisa walked out of the bathroom - and it’s just as warm and homey as you remember it to be.

Even more so as Jungkook kicks off his shoes, putting his gym bag down by the door as he eyes you carefully.

“What did you want to talk about?” he asks.

You reckon you could be fully honest right now. You could tell him how you feel, you could say you fell in love all those months ago despite the odds working against you. You could say everything, yet you don’t want to jump into it right away. You want to enjoy this moment with him - it might be your very last after all.

“How have you been?” you query as you take your shoes off.

He pulls on his piercings and then glances to his right. “Do you want to sit while we talk?”

You nod, and a moment later you’ve moved to the kitchen, and you’re pouring a glass of water for you and him from the filtered pitcher in the fridge.

You put his glass down in front of him, and he looks at it like it too is foreign to him. Like your kindness is a stranger, and you think maybe it is.

Maybe after telling him you were over in Paris, your kindness died in his eyes.

“Thank you,” he says, and he takes a long sip of water as you sit down next to him.

In the chair to his right, much like you’d been on Valentine’s Day.

“So?” you ask, and he cocks an eyebrow in question.

Gosh… the circles underneath his eyes seem darker, and there’s a hollowness to his cheeks that you didn’t really notice before. Maybe he hasn’t been eating enough, the heartbreak stealing his appetite much like it’d stolen yours.

Did he really care this much about you?

“So what?” he lets out.

“How have you been?”

He doesn’t like the question. You can see it in the way he tenses, in the way his shoulders hunch forward even more like he’s trying to protect himself.

“I’ve been okay,” he replies.

You get it. You don’t deserve the truth, not after all the distance between the two of you.

“You?” he adds after a few seconds.

You take a deep breath, looking away from him to glance down at the glass on the table between your hands. “I haven’t been doing all that great,” you admit. “Not too bad, but not too great, you know?”

He looks apologetic when you meet his gaze, yet he nods his head in understanding. “Yeah.”

There’s a silence, like maybe the crevice really is too large for him to hear you from your side. But you don’t want it to be that way - you’ll leap over the crevice if you have to, but you want to tell Jungkook everything.

You need it, or you’ll never be able to heal.

“I…” you trail off, and you take another deep breath, trying to find the courage that invaded you while you were at the park.

It seems like it left you empty now that you’re sitting next to Jungkook, and you hate it.

You hate everything that made it so that it’s now awkward between you and Jeon Jungkook.

“You what?” he presses gently.

You take a sip of water. “I wanted to talk about us.”

Your words fall between you and him, so loud you think they might have pierced your eardrums.

Jungkook just looks at you in silence and then looks around himself. “What if Tae comes home?”

“Jungkook, I don’t care if Taehyung comes home right now,” you say, and you find yourself fighting sudden tears. “I’m so tired.”

He murmurs your name, and some part of you yearns for the way he’d used to call you peach, teasingly yet softly like it was the most beautiful word in his dictionary.

“We never told each other how we felt,” you continue, realizing that you maybe should have rehearsed something before deciding to come here, if only so that you wouldn’t look stupid right now. “We spent months together and yet…” You pause, and he too remains silent, like he’s so startled by the conversation that he’s entirely mute now.

“Yet we never said anything about how we felt,” you add. “That’s why I came home that night.”

You hope he knows which one you’re referring to, and it seems like he does. His big doe eyes fill with the same sorrow you know is in yours, and he says, “I’m so sorry.”

It hurts. It hurts far too much for you to be able to breathe, and you look up to the ceiling, furiously blinking away tears. “For what?” you ask.

“For not telling you about Gabrielle,” he says. “For thinking that my promise to her was more important than what you and I had.”

“It destroyed my trust in you…” you admit, voice smaller than the drop of condensation rolling down your glass right now.

“I know,” he answers. “I’ve been hating myself for it for months.”

You hadn’t expected this much truth from him, so quickly. Not when months have passed without you exchanging more than just a few surface-level sentences.

Not when just a moment ago, he’d lied and told you he’s been doing okay.

“Don’t,” you whisper.

“Don’t tell me what I should do or not do,” he fires back, so softly you barely hear him. “I’ve been going insane, Y/n.”

“Jungkook…”

“You want to know how I felt?” he asks, and there’s sudden anger in his tone, dripping from his every syllable. “You want to know how it felt when I was in Paris and had to pretend that I wasn’t in love with you so that your brother didn’t get upset?” You barely register the confession - he barely leaves you time to register it as he adds, “I was fucking ruined. I hate lying, and I had to lie about you to my best friend because you asked me to.”

“Jungkook…” you trail off. “I just wanted us to tell him together.”

“And it led to that fucking shitshow with Gabrielle,” he says, ignoring your intervention. “If I’d been able to tell her we were together, she would have never kissed me. And she only did it because she didn’t want people to know that she’s gay.” He scoffs. “Which is frankly stupid because we’re in 2024 and if her parents don’t approve of her then they can fuck right off.”

You don’t say anything to that, mostly because you think that’s a conversation he has to have with her, and not with you.

“And then you dumped me, you refused to trust me, and I fucking got lost in Paris until I had to call Gaby for help. And I told her everything then, because what was the point of holding back?”

It’s like there was a dam inside of Jungkook, and you coming here tonight burst it open, words cascading out of his mouth like they can’t be stopped.

Like he took the time to rehearse what he wanted to tell you if he ever got the chance to.

“I didn’t dump you,” you say when the silence stretches for a few seconds. “We were never together.”

“Right.” Jungkook chuckles so dryly that you think you might have just fallen into the Sahara desert. “Because of your brother, right?”

“Why are you so mad?” you ask, feeling your own temper flaring despite the fact that you’d meant to come here and tell him about the love that bears his name in your chest.

“Because, Y/n, I’ve been fucking miserable for months,” Jungkook says, voice raising. “Because I went back to New York to have my whole family laugh at me when they realized we weren’t together anymore. Because I was forced to officially become the heir of JJS because my brother chose to open his own company. Because the one time I thought maybe I should try to move on you decided to come barging in and you saw everything.”

“You’re blaming me for coming here that Friday?” you ask in disbelief. “Fuck, Jungkook, I lived here.”

“You were already out,” he points out.

“So that gave you the right to just fuck another girl?”

He rolls his eyes, sighing deeply. “See, it pissed me off when you ignored the text I sent you after that, but now I realize that it might have been for the best.”

You don’t answer anything, not when your heart aches so fiercely. You don’t think there’s any fight left in you - there barely had any to begin with. You didn’t think you’d fight with him tonight, didn’t plan for it to lead here, yet here you sit, watching his features contorted in rage he must have kept bottled up for weeks.

It occurs to you then that Jungkook doesn’t love you anymore. That the feelings festered, turned to a much uglier feeling you don’t want to name right now.

“Why?” you ask. “Why was it for the best?”

“Because we can’t fucking be together, Y/n. Because it never was about Paris, it never was about Gaby and Lisa.” He pauses as silver lines his gaze, but he blinks it away. “Because it’s always been about Taehyung, right? You never would have dated me because of Taehyung.”

“You know,” you let out, and you scoff, shaking your head. “I was coming here tonight to tell you that I fell in love with you last semester. But shit was I fucking wrong for that.” Your voice becomes louder as you keep going until you’re practically screaming in his face. “Yes, because of Taehyung. Yes, you’re right. What happened in Paris never mattered. It was always about how we couldn’t be together because of Tae.”

He’s stunned silent, and he just looks at you as you clench your jaw, taking a deep breath. You’re trying to staunch the flow of your anger, of the tears that threaten to spill on your cheeks, but it quickly occurs to you that you’re not going to win the fight.

You get up so quickly the chair almost falls behind you, and you storm out of the kitchen as the first tear falls.

“Y/n,” Jungkook says behind you, and he’s up and out of the kitchen a second later.

You try to put your shoes on, yet they blur behind the tears in your gaze.

“Y/n,” Jungkook says again, louder this time.

Maybe because he’s closer, or because he actually spoke louder. You don’t know, don’t care.

All you want is to flee the scene before he sees the ugliness of your broken heart.

You manage to put your first shoe on, but Jungkook bends down and picks up the other one before you can put it on.

“Give that back,” you say, and you angrily dry the tears on your face with the back of a hand.

“No,” he says.

“I fucking hate you,” you practically scream, and Jungkook drops the shoe.

He smiles softly.

“No, you don’t.”

You don’t know who makes the first move. Don’t know how or why or when, but Jungkook cradles your face as you grab a handful of his sweater to hold him close. His lips hit yours so hard you think you taste blood, and he pushes you back against the door to deepen the kiss.

Your tongue darts out of your mouth to play with his piercings once, and he grunts as he drives his knee between your legs, then thinks better of it and picks you up. He holds you up against the door, his mouth moving in time with yours, languidly. It’s soul-destroying, like he’s wiping everything you were clean so that you can start anew.

You want it to be that. You want this kiss to be born of feelings and not anger, of the love you both had for each other.

You want it to be born out of the love you were so afraid of that you kept finding reasons to keep it locked away. Because he is right - you always used Taehyung as an excuse to keep Jungkook a safe distance away.

Not that he was any better. He was doing the same thing, up until he wasn’t. Up until he told you he’d tell Taehyung everything in Paris, and suffer the consequences. You were the one then to tell him to wait, and today you know it was a mistake.

Today, you know you shouldn’t have waited before calling Jeon Jungkook yours. Because it allowed him to slip through your fingers, and you don’t think you’ll ever forgive yourself for it.

Jungkook’s tongue meets yours, and you let out a breathy sound as his hands rove your body, up and down your sides like he can’t choose a spot to linger on. Yours are lost in his hair - you’re already pulling at the strands just the way you know he likes. And he’s quick to react, to suck on your tongue, teeth teasing it. It steals a moan from the confines of your chest, and Jungkook grunts as he pulls away.

“Tell me to stop,” he whispers as he leans his forehead against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I’ll let you leave, and you’ll never have to see me again.”

Your hands move down until they cup his cheeks, and you gently swipe your thumb on his soft skin. “Kiss me again,” you whisper.

“Fuck,” he curses and then adds your name at the end.

His mouth is ravishing yours again a second later, and this time, you know nothing will stop you. Nothing can stop you - not when you’ve been craving his touch for so long.

Jungkook carries you towards his bedroom, disconnecting from your lips so that he can look where he’s going over your shoulder. He’s about to push the door open when you have a flash of Lisa here, and you tense in his hold.

He immediately stops moving, glancing at you to meet your gaze.

“Can we go in my room?”

He nods yes, and you peck his lips once before he starts walking again.

Your room is dark and cold when he pushes the door open, yet he drops you on the bed all the same. You watch as he bends down to plug the string of fairy lights into the outlet, and a second later the room is bathed in a soft glow that reminds you of nights with him, of falling in love until you didn’t make sense without him anymore.

You don’t. You don’t make sense without Jungkook.

He takes off his sweater, revealing planes of honey skin you’ve missed far too much, his tiny dark nipples perked from the cold. That reminds you of the power outage, of the first time you’d been with Jungkook like this, right in this room.

“I missed you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t say anything, yet you know that he missed you too. It’s in his eyes, in the way he looks at you so adoringly, and in the way he climbs on top of you so that he can kiss you again, slower this time.

Like tonight, time has stopped, and you can enjoy him eternally.

You kiss him back, putting all the feelings in your chest in the motion of your lips against the softness of his. Your hands find his warm skin, and you caress his back as you kiss and kiss, as his tongue gently traces your mouth and finds your own tongue.

He pulls away a few seconds later, only to move down until he’s sucking a mark on your neck. It takes you by surprise, and you moan as you pull at his hair. He resists for a few seconds, keeps sucking on your skin until he’s sure to have left a hickey behind, and then he finally meets your gaze.

The darkness in his eyes hints at barely concealed lust, which you reciprocate as you wrap your legs around his dainty waist, forcing him to grind on you.

You’re not surprised in the slightest to find him already hard.

“I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight,” Jungkook says, voice low. “You’ve driven me crazy.”

“Don’t be gentle,” you challenge.

He doesn’t need to hear more before he’s crashing his mouth on yours again, with none of the previous softness. It’s rough, claiming, like he wants you to know that you’re his, and that you’ve always been his. He pulls at your bottom lip, sucks on it as he runs a hand down your side and under your shirt, and he brings it up until he cups your breast, searching your nipple through your bra.

He lets out a frustrated sound when he doesn’t manage to find it right away, and he pushes your bra up until it lies over your breasts and his digits finally find the sensitive nipple.

He pinches it, hard enough to earn a pained moan from you, and he moves his head to your neck, lapping at the mark he already put there.

“Tell me to stop anytime and I’ll stop,” he says, voice gravelly and husky and so unlike the softness that clung to him earlier.

It turns you on far more than you thought it would.

“Okay,” you say.

He smirks against your neck, and then he nibbles at your earlobe before kneeling between your legs. “Take off your shirt.”

You nod, sitting up as much as you can. He helps you get rid of the fabric - it’s a college sweater you got last fall - and he throws it to the floor.

Your bra follows soon - you think he’s about to kiss you again when he stills, eyes going wide as he looks at your exposed breasts, and then up at your face.

“You’ve been wearing the necklace?” he asks, and the softness is back in full force, making you think that it might have actually never left.

“I haven’t taken it off once,” you admit with a small, vulnerable voice.

“Fuck…” he trails off. “Fuck, Y/n.”

You wish he’d called you peach, but you think there might be another moment for it, a better moment.

You think this might not be goodbye.

He kisses you again, soft for a few seconds before he claims your mouth again. A few more seconds later he’s moving down your frame, wrapping his lips around one of your nipples while he plays with the other. You moan softly, hands looking for purchase on your bed until you decide better and lose them in his silk-soft hair again.

He circles your nipple with his tongue, flicks it once before sucking, and then moves to the other one, giving it the same treatment. He teases your breasts like that for a little longer, like he’s trying to remember every curve of you, and then he goes even lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses down your abdomen up until he reaches the band of your pants.

He hooks his thumbs in your pants as if he might try to rip them off your body, but he lets go instead, kneeling between your legs.

“You know,” he lets out, and he palms himself through his pants. “I want to feel you tonight.”

You reach between the two of you as you prop yourself up on an elbow. “I want to feel you too.”

His fingers run up your side, finding your bird tattoo. He traces it lightly, then meets your gaze and says, “You got a new tattoo.”

You nod.

“I love it.”

You don’t have time to say thank you before he’s crashing his lips on yours once more, stealing the words from your mouth. He doesn’t linger there for long - a second later he’s kneeling between your legs again, unbuttoning your pants. He helps you out of the fabric, dropping it on the floor with your sweater. He leaves your panties on - his eyes darken with lust at the wet spot you know already stains the lilac fabric between your legs.

“Shit,” he curses lowly, and he runs a thumb over the wet spot. “You’re so wet.”

You gulp, holding his gaze as you nod once. “Do something about it.”

He smirks, tilting his head to the side. “Oh, don’t worry, I will.”

You watch him as he gets up, taking off the rest of his clothes. Soon, he stands in all his glory, fisting his dick a couple of times as you take in the sight.

“Come here,” Jungkook says, motioning for you to sit on the side of your bed.

Your bed is low enough so that his dick is almost at eye level, and he taps it on your lips as you look up at him.

You know what he wants. Yet you resist, your hands gripping his thighs hard enough for your nails to dig into his skin just a little. He winces, tapping your mouth again, and you feel some of his precum on your lips.

You lick it clean, and then you give a tentative lick to the head of his cock.

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Actually, I don’t even think you should-”

You interrupt his sentence by taking his dick in your mouth, sucking hard as you tease it with your tongue. Jungkook moans out a curse, and you don’t give him time to say anything else before you grab the base of his dick so that you can jerk him off in time with the back and forth of your head.

It’s sloppy, drool slipping out of your mouth and dripping from your chin. You don’t care - you use it to jerk him off better, faster, and Jungkook throws his head back, the muscles on his abdomen shifting under his skin.

You cup his balls, massaging them with a light touch as you keep on sucking him, your eyes slowly watering every time he hits the back of your throat. Jungkook just lets you do it, doesn’t take control, and your pussy drips and drips, soaking your panties.

You’re so horny for him, even with all the history between you.

Even though you’re not sure if this is goodbye.

Jungkook suddenly pulls your head back by the hair, hard enough for your scalp to burn. A string of spit still connects his dick to your mouth, and you lick it clean as he looks down on you, breathing heavily.

“Get on all fours,” he orders, and he lets go of your hair so that you can move.

Though you’re usually a brat, you don’t dare disobey right now, so you move until you’re positioned like he asked you to. He slaps your ass, and your skin tingles as he massages the spot, bending down to press a kiss on your spine.

He moves between your legs now, pushing your panties to the side so he can lick a long stripe from your clit to your entrance, dipping his tongue inside once before he straightens.

“Think you can already take me?” he asks, and he rubs his tip on your clit.

You moan unabashedly loudly, hiding your face in a pillow. He keeps rubbing his dick on you, never sliding it in, and you eventually look back towards him.

“Just be slow at first,” you tell him, heart beating out of your chest with all your desire for him.

He massages your ass again. “Don’t think you can take it?” he teases.

You swallow, letting out a breathy sound as he rubs on your clit again. “I just…” you trail off, and you grip the sheets as if that’ll help you concentrate. “I haven’t had sex since April.”

Jungkook freezes behind you, his cock still pressed on you. You meet his gaze and fall in the depths of his eyes.

You’ve always been falling for him anyway.

He bends down, finding your mouth despite the awkwardness of the position. You kiss softly, yet you’re painfully aware of his tip nudging your entrance, yet never sliding in. And though you’re also painfully aware he hasn’t put a condom on yet, you reach behind you, grabbing his dick to hold it in place as you push back, until he’s finally sliding in.

He’s huge. You think he’s even bigger than before, and you moan out his name as he slips in slowly, one inch at a time. You feel every vein, every ridge, his dick spearing you open until you’re full with him, stretched so wide open you see stars.

You both don’t move once he’s fully embedded inside of you, your walls clenching around him by instinct. His breathing is ragged, and he leans his forehead on the side of your face, pecking your cheek once as he gives you time to adjust to the impressive size of him.

“Let’s stay here forever, mmh?” he murmurs.

“Kook…”

“You know,” he whispers softly, and he slowly pulls back only to push back in roughly, his balls slapping on your clit. “I’ve been imagining fucking you raw.” He pulls back, pushes back in. “A whole fucking lot.” Another back and forth of his hips, and he hits so hard you move forward on the bed. “And I gotta admit -” skin slaps against skin - “that the real thing doesn’t compare to my imagination.”

He straightens, and then he starts pounding into you so hard all you can do is hold onto the sheets and moan his name.

He’s right though - you feel him a thousand times more than you’ve ever felt him before, the lack of a condom rendering the act oh so sinful. And though you’re aware it might be a dumb idea, you too just want to feel all of him. To be just one - your bodies linked in the most intimate of ways.

Jungkook pulls out, flipping you on your back. You’re dizzy for half a second, but then you meet his gaze, right as he thrusts forward in one swift motion, impaling you on his cock. You moan as he grunts, his eyebrows bunched together over his eyes in what you know is pleasure. He’s sucking on his piercings, and he looks so hot you just want more of him.

“Harder,” you beg.

He laughs lightly, sounding out of breath. “Fuck.”

But he gives in to your desire, fucking you hard enough so that he’s the only thing you can think of. Your room is filled with the squelching sounds that your pussy makes each time he thrusts forward and with the slapping of his skin against yours; his grunts and your breathy sounds form a melody meant for your ears only, and you feel a knot slowly tightening in your core. Your hands have shifted to his muscular thighs at some point, and your nails dig into his skin, making him hiss.

He leans forward, locking you between his arms as he slows down the rhythm, yet keeps it just as rough. His lips find yours, and you taste the light sheen of sweat on his upper lip as he kisses you languidly, his tongue easily finding yours.

You think the kiss slows time. It slows time until every moment feels like forever, until each of his thrusts last a light year. You feel infinite - you are infinite, as long as he’s with you. It’s a beautiful feeling, one that swells in your chest gently until your heart bursts with warmth for him, with all the feelings you’ve been trying to repress for months.

With all the feelings you’ve been trying to repress since that first time you saw him, running into him outside of the apartment. Since that first time he called you peach - and all the times following that.

You’ve been in love with Jeon Jungkook for a lot longer than you ever wished to admit to yourself, but there’s nothing scary about it. Not when you know he feels the same. And if this is goodbye, if this moment is to be your last, you know it will always be your favourite ending.

Because if the world was ending now, you know you’d die happy.

Jungkook pulls away from the kiss, resting his forehead against yours. Your nails trace idle forms on his back, digging in whenever he thrusts forward, and you’re full of him, oh so full of him.

“I missed you,” he whispers. “I missed you so fucking much.”

The revelation steals your breath, as does the rapid rhythm he establishes next. The new angle feels sinfully good, the weight of his body on yours is entrancing, and the knot that was slowly forming in your core tightens to a breaking point.

“I’m going to come,” you whimper.

“Come for me, peach,” Jungkook urges you on, and you moan, hiding your face in his neck.

You come the second he reaches between you to press circles on your clit. And you come hard, vision flashing white as you let out a broken moan, clinging to Jungkook for dear life. He’s a grunting mess, cursing under his breath.

“That’s it, peach, you’re doing so good,” he praises, and his voice is breathy, whiny, the only indication that he’s about to follow you and climax too.

Your pussy clenches hard around his dick, and Jungkook stills deep inside of you, his dick twitching. But he’s not coming yet, like he’s trying to keep it in.

“Where do you want me to come?” he asks.

Your hands climb up his side, nails scratching him, and then you lose them in his hair again, lightly tugging on the strands. Your orgasm steals your thoughts, your words from your brain, bliss sweeping through you and leaving you on a cloud of ecstasy. “In,” you breathe out.

“I don’t think -” his words are cut off by a soft moan as your walls clench around him, your orgasm not fully done yet. “That’s a good idea,” he finishes.

“I have an IUD,” you remind him, even though it’s hard to form sentences when your mind is swimming in such bliss.

You bite at his neck, lightly, and then suck on the spot. Jungkook doesn’t need more to resume his hard thrusts, and you think you’re insane.

You and him. Both of you have gone insane, and he’s coming a second later as he pushes all the way in, moaning in your ear as you praise him softly. He paints your insides white, shooting spurts and spurts of cum deep inside of you as he clings to you and you cling to him. His climax lasts for a long time, and he’s shaking by the time he’s done.

“Holy fuck,” he lets out, and he chuckles lightly as he pecks your neck.

“Felt good?” you ask, your arms tightening around him.

“Fuck yeah.” He sucks on your neck lazily, earning a breathy sound from you. “You?”

“It always feels good with you, Kook,” you whisper.

He doesn’t reply anything, but he nuzzles his face in your neck, the proximity and the intimacy of the action meaning more than words. You gently caress his back, feeling his muscles shifting under his skin as he takes a deep breath, and then he lifts his head to meet your gaze.

“I think we still need to talk,” he says with a gentle voice. “But thank you for this.”

You swallow a sudden lump in your throat, nodding once. “We do.”

He seems conflicted for a time, like he doesn’t want to move but knows he has to, and you cup his cheek, swiping your thumb over the small scar he has there. It brings a soft smile to his lips, though you aren’t fooled.

It doesn’t meet his eyes.

He sighs, and then he glances at your night table, clearly looking for some tissues. There’s none in sight, and he meets your gaze again.

“Huh…” He chuckles again. “What should we do…” he trails off, his eyes dipping downwards between your two bodies.

“Right,” you let out, and your cheeks burn. “I can try to put my hand?”

He nods. “I’ll go get toilet paper.”

Once you’ve both agreed to the plan, Jungkook slowly pulls out of you. You immediately feel his cum dripping out of you, staining your sheets even though you try to stop the flow with your hand. Jungkook just looks at the sight, the tip of his ears reddening, and then he quickly puts his pants on so that he can go get something to clean you up with.

He comes back a moment later with toilet paper, and he starts cleaning you up, eyes solely focused on the task at hand. His moves are sweet and caring, and your heart feels far too warm for your own good. Indeed, his shoulders are too tense to mean anything good.

Or maybe he’s regretting blowing up in your face earlier. You don’t mind it - you’re glad he was able to get the words out, as they’ve clearly been weighing on him.

Jungkook finishes by wiping your hand as clean as possible with the toilet paper, and then he throws it away in the bin near your desk. He sits back down on the side of your bed, glancing at you as you remain lying down, not truly processing everything that happened yet.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Jungkook asks.

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “What time is it?”

“Ten forty-five.”

Which means you definitely still have plenty of time left before Taehyung and Ariane come home.

“Yes, I’d love to take a shower,” you say, accepting his offer with a soft smile.

He reciprocates it, but it still doesn’t meet his eyes.

Have any of his smiles reached his eyes in the last few months?

The question spins in your head incessantly as you shower, Jungkook next to you. There’s heaviness surrounding him - it’s in the way his motions are slow, subdued, and in the way he doesn’t look you in the eyes, fully. It’s in the lines on his forehead, between his eyes, and the sadness that lingers on his features.

You haven’t been doing too good in the last few months either, but you had your friends. And you realize then and there that Jungkook isolated himself from everyone, some part of him likely always feeling like Taehyung was responsible for your falling out.

You can imagine the resentment he feels towards Taehyung for it, and how difficult it was to remain friends with him.

Jungkook wraps you in a thick towel once you both finally step out of the shower, and you take a moment to dry yourself, enjoying the silence preceding the conversation you know you need to have. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind it, like he too wants a moment of calm before the storm.

And you know the storm is about to hit hard. It’ll likely break you, throw all remaining pieces of you to the four corners of the Earth.

But you don’t care - the storm can hit as hard as it wants, as long as you’re with Jungkook when it does.

“I can’t believe you’ve been wearing the necklace,” Jungkook whispers.

He was quicker than you - he’s all dry, dressed in a pair of grey sweatpants. He hasn’t put a shirt on, and your eyes travel the planes of his body, heating up your cheeks.

“I haven’t taken it off once,” you admit. “I’ve kept the letter, too.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps. “I was embarrassed about it for a while,” he admits, and his gaze drops to the floor.

You’re done drying yourself, and you hang the towel behind the door, before facing Jungkook again. He hands his shirt - a white flag waved between the two of you - and the familiarity of the act makes tears pool in your eyes.

You hesitate for a few seconds, but then you grab his shirt, putting it on. It’s just as comfortable as it was months ago when you’d worn it to sleep every night, and you want to reach for Jungkook, to hold him close and never let go.

“Thank you,” you say, words choked by the lump you force down with a swallow. “Why were you embarrassed?” you ask.

Jungkook pulls at his piercings, meeting your gaze for a few seconds. “Because I thought you might text me. I hoped you would, honestly. But you never did.”

Your heart aches, and you have to shut your eyes to prevent it from burning into ashes. “I’m sorry.”

You are. You truly are - you’d just believed then that the letter meant goodbye. That you had to let Jungkook go at all costs, even if it meant shattering your heart and his in the process.

“Ah,” he lets out, shrugging his shoulders. “It’s okay.”

But you know he’s lying. It’s written in every defeated angle of his body, and you want to take all of the months back, to save your relationship before it went up in flames.

He sighs, meeting your gaze. “Do you want to sit in your room to talk?”

You reckon it’s a good idea - you don’t think you want the bathroom to be the scene of this conversation. So you nod your head, and Jungkook reaches for the doorknob, pushing the door open.

Pushing the door open to reveal a wide-eyed Taehyung, who looks between Jungkook and you a couple of times while you just stand there, the shirt you’re wearing way too incriminating.

You watch the storm as it hits in real-time. And it hits harder than you ever imagined it could, Taehyung’s fist colliding with Jungkook’s face before you’ve even truly had time to register that he was about to punch Jungkook.

Jungkook staggers back as you shriek, “Tae!”, but Taehyung’s already readying for his next punch. You immediately pull Jungkook behind you, standing between him and your brother as Taehyung’s cheeks turn red with rage.

“You’re fucking my sister,” Taehyung hisses, and it’s a statement, the dots irreparably connected in his head.

Jungkook touches his cheek, and you look over your shoulder just long enough to see that it tore from the force of the blow, and blood is slowly seeping out.

“I’m not fucking your sister,” Jungkook replies, his voice flat.

Taehyung chuckles bitterly, but you speak before he can, “I’m an adult, Tae, I can fuck whoever I want.”

“Yeah, of course,” Taehyung drawls. “So you had to fuck my best friend, huh?”

“We’re not fucking,” Jungkook says again, and you slightly frown as you glance at him over your shoulder.

But he isn’t looking at you, eyes fully focused on Taehyung. And then you understand, pain crashing all of your nerves like lightning just struck you.

Jungkook is choosing Taehyung over you.

“Is that why she’s wearing your shirt?” Taehyung asks, and he shakes his hand, the only indication that his knuckles likely hurt from the blow to Jungkook’s face. “You really think I’m fucking stupid or something.”

This time Jungkook remains entirely silent.

“Tae, it started last semester,” you say, scrambling for words to tame the storm before it destroys everything.

That makes Taehyung laugh, though the sound is scary, dangerous. “Last semester? So I ask you to take care of my sister, and you start fucking her?”

“I was taking care of her,” Jungkook replies in a similar icy tone, putting emphasis on the ‘was’.

Because you are a construct of the past now, aren’t you?

You shudder with the realization, the pain overtaking everything. You barely hear Taehyung as he tells Jungkook to fuck off, that he can’t believe he ever called him his friend. All you feel is your heart as it shatters, all over again. As Jungkook tells Taehyung to calm down, that they can talk it out.

But Taehyung is having none of it, his face mottled with red from his anger.

“Stop!” you scream as they just keep going on and on, and they both surprisingly fall silent. “Fucking stop, will you? Who cares if Jungkook and I slept together?”

You. You do, but you can’t say it.

“Jimin knew,” Taehyung says, voice low. “Jimin knew and you fucking gaslit him.”

“I did what your sister asked of me, and clearly she was right if that’s how you’re reacting,” Jungkook fires back.

“Stop,” you add, though this time it’s more of a beg. “Stop, the two of you.” You face Taehyung, nails digging into your palms as you clench your fists. “I fell in love with Jungkook. I just did, and it happened naturally, and it was reciprocated.” You don’t dare use the present tense. Not when you’re coming to the conclusion that the story truly ended last semester.

What happened tonight doesn’t change that. Because Taehyung is here now, proving every insecurity that you ever had.

“And yes, we had something, but it ended last semester too,” you add, and you hope you won’t shatter too much of Jungkook when you conclude, “Tonight was a lapse of judgment.”

You feel the cold radiating from Jungkook behind you the second the words are out. You don’t even dare look at him as Taehyung says, “Jungkook, I think you should find somewhere else to stay for a couple of days.”

“Tae, come on,” you let out. “Can we just be adults?”

“Sounds good,” Jungkook replies, ignoring you.

He walks around you, and you try to grab his wrist, but he’s quick to shrug off your touch.

“Jungkook,” you say, tears pricking at your eyes.

He doesn’t look back on his way to his bedroom, and you follow after him, knocking your shoulder with Taehyung’s on the way.

“Jungkook,” you repeat, and he disappears into his bedroom, though you’re quick to walk in as well. “Jungkook, stop.”

He doesn’t glance your way. Just grabs his school bag from where it was on the floor, and puts it on his bed before heading to the drawer you know houses his underwear and socks.

“Jungkook, you don’t have to go, you live here,” you add, and a tear slips free, spilling on your cheek.

Now he does spare you a glance, and you watch the silver lining his gaze. But it’s the look in his eyes that silences you, until all you can do is watch him as he packs some clothes. He’s done in no time, and he throws a sweatshirt on before brushing past you to head to the front door, next to which Taehyung is still standing.

“Jungkook,” you let out, and it sounds more like a sob than anything else.

It’s the sound of breaking hearts, something you and Jungkook have grown far too familiar with.

He grabs his keys from the table by the door, puts his shoes on quickly, head hanging low like he doesn’t want Taehyung to see the tears on his cheeks. But you see them - you know them.

You’re the reason behind them after all.

Jungkook finishes putting his shoes on, and he lays a hand on the doorknob, yet he hesitates before turning. Long enough for you to try again, “Jungkook, please.”

He meets your gaze, and his eyes clear of the tears as he blinks a few times. “I’ll see you around,” he says in a whisper, and you know it for the lie that it is.

He’s not planning to ever see you again, is he?

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I promise the angst is nearing its end :') I hope you guys liked this chapter! Let me know what you think!:)

#chasing cars ch 14 #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #jeon jungkook #btswritersclub #chasing cars #chasing cars series

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baldysgate · 1 year

Text

A Day Hotter than the Hells

Halsin/ Fem!Tav NSFW || ACT III SPOILERS || NON-DECRIPT TAV || PRE-ESTABLISHED RELATIONSHIP || HALSIN POV ||

WARNINGS: Slight predator/prey, NSFW, Cunnilingus (fem recieving), Forest Sex, Unsafe sex, alcohol mentions, slight astarion/halsin/tav mention:

It’s a day as hot as the hells in Faerun. Half the camp is down to their underwear, poor Karlach is suffering the worst. Unsurprisingly , Astarion seems unphased. Shadowheart and Wyll are nowhere to be seen, likely resting in their tents from the sun. Gale is busy casting spells in an attempt to keep himself cooled. Though the heat is daunting, the threat of the netherbrain still looms over the camps mind, so it isn’t a surprise to Halsin when she calls out for him, Astarion and Karlach to head out. And so, off to the town he goes.

After a few hours of adventuring and not much headway Halsin sighs as he wipes the sweat beading at his brow. It felt like he was being cooked alive and he was one of the lucky ones, being as he was in his druidic armor that gave plenty of room to breathe. He could only imagine how her and Karlach could manage in this high sun. Making their way back on the harsh cobblestoned path through the lower city after a long day, she stops. Halsin trails his eyes towards where their leader's head was turned, a shop with a long flowing dress in the window, god rays casting across the sage colored garment. He smiles to himself.

She is drawn to it and he can see it in her eyes- she wants it. It’s light fabric, perfect for a day as hot as this. Without a word she disappears into the shop and is out before he can think to look anywhere else, green fabric being stuffed into her pack.

“That’s quite sheer, darling.” Astarion says, though there’s no bite to his words, just a purr in his voice.

“And quite a good color on you.” Halsin adds, his voice rolling low and a smirk on his lips. It was his color, the camp had teased that it was. She knew it too, smiling at them both once the dress was safely packed away.

Karlach chuckles at both his and Astarions teasing, “Come on, back to camp. It’s too godsdamned hot out here.”

The walk feels like a desert, but he breathes a sigh of relief as the unnatural surroundings slowly give way to more and more nature, then finally, the familiar clearing where camp was set.Wordlessly they disperse, all dying to remove their heavy armor and into something much more revealing and comfortable. Halsin catches sight of Karlach stripping each piece of armor and heading for a pond and jumping straight in, the water around her bubbling as she sighs loudly. Astarion is quite composed and a lot less rushed, disappearing into his tent after grabbing his book from where it lay on a small table. Halsin passes her tent, there’s a clamoring of armor and he chuckles at the grunts she makes as she is undoubtedly shirking off her armor in a frenzy. He’s impatient to do the same.

Unlike the others, he is not so worried of who sees. It is only natural to be bare surrounded by nature to him and so off comes the top of his armor without much of a fuss. Gauntlets came next, which he plopped into the chest by his tent. Then shoes and the bark that tied around his calves. With a sigh he stretches his arm, reveling in the feeling of the barely there breeze that caresses his exposed torso. He said a small prayer to Silvanus, hoping tomorrow would bring kinder weather.

He hears a ruffle of tent flaps and sees her and it feels the air has been knocked out of his lungs. Oak father, grant him strength! He often preferred her without the social binds of clothing but this, this he would be more than glad to gaze at for hours. The dress is long, but shapely. Every curve suits her perfectly and leaves nothing to imagination. The slits on the side leave her legs bare and teasing, rising almost to her waist before coming together and hiding the stomach he adored pressing soft kisses against. His eyes followed upward to the way her chest pressed against the crest of the dress, almost threatening to spill over. He could see how her budding nipples pressed against the thin cloth as the wind blew and Halsin had to stretch his neck to push down the near growl in his voice.

She turned to him now with a smile pressed against her lips, striding over to him before planting her hands on her hips, “Glad to be back?” She asked.

Halsin smiles down at her, now able to admire her closer, “Quite glad.” He breathes out, though his tone came out far lower than usual. Quick as ever she seemed to notice the change in his tone, dropping an arm and taking one step closer, “Do you.. Like it?” she gives him that sly smile, like she always did when she already knew the answer.

He chuckled, pressing his fingers against the seam of the dress, running his hand down the warmed skin of her upper thigh, “You could put all the goddesses to shame, my heart.”.

“Oh, really?” She said, low and sultry, nearing closer so that her chest pressed against his abdomen, instinctively his arm wrapped around her waist “ Be careful, you may anger one or two with a compliment like that.”

“Then it would be a most glorious last sight. Though I would weep to think I may never lay my eyes on your beauty again, my love.” He drew her in, pressing a hungry kiss against her soft lips.

The heat be damned, the way her arms wrapped around his shoulders had a much different heat in his gut as the kiss grew hungrier. Silvanus help him, he was enamored with every part of her, a mere touch felt as if it could bring him to his knees. He wanted nothing more than to pick her up and head for the forest to find a way to quell this feeling for just a moment, though maybe once would not be enough to keep him sated. Her little jump as his hand graced her backside had him chuckling into the kiss, her hand tugging at his shoulder length hair forces a groan from his lips. It's all too soon when she withdraws from him, cutting the moment short for his liking.. but if Halsin knew anything, it was patience.

“I see you certainly approve of the new outfit.” She said coyly, withdrawing herself from him fully and smoothing the creases of the dress in question.

“An understatement, surely. I did not think clothing could compare to the bare form that nature has blessed you with…but it looks like I may have to make an exception.” he smiled, but there was heat in his gaze even still, "Perhaps later I could show you just how wrong I was."

She gives him a look not unlike a fox as she leans up closer to his ear, "I would love nothing more." it takes everything in him to stop from throwing her over his shoulder right then and there.

"Then I look forward to it." He hums low.

"My my, and here I thought I may miss the druids reaction." The familiar lilt of Astarions voice draws both their attention to him, "not that I mind, of course. I am more than happy to watch." He smiles so wide his fangs show.

"You are more than welcome to watch or even join in if you'd like." She says it before he can and there's a part of him that hopes the vampire would agree. But Astarion scoffs with his head held high, "And watch your animalistic fucking in the woods? No thank you, darling." He pauses as if turning the idea over in his head, "Besides, you know I hate dirt."

"Oh come now, surely you would not let a bit of soil ruin your own pleasure, Astarion?" Halsin chuckles with humor in his voice.

"I guess there's no accounting for taste with you, is there, Halsin?" Astarion sighs out, "You two have your fun, far be it from me to judge.. but I will anyway." He laughs.

"Spoiled sport. I guess you'll miss out on all the fun." She gives Halsin a squeeze on his bicep, a small promise for later before she sets off after Karlach who is still stretched out on the rocks in the pond.

The late afternoon seems to drag on forever and so does the heat. Halsin tries to busy himself, conversing with Wyll who had taken to sitting near a river with his feet in the water just a ways away from camp. Even in their discussions it was hard to pull himself from that memory of her.

The sun began to set and Gale had been adamant to start the fire with his magic, flourishing with a show- as he did with most things. Halsin sat with his back against a fallen log, picking through camp supplies ready to be tossed amongst the fire. He was impatient for his time with her but could not deny the rumbling of his stomach. Now that the heat no longer punished them he could not help but feel famished. She came to rest besides him, having made her rounds of the camp for tonight. Undoubtedly she knew he would keep her more than preoccupied for the remainder of it.

Their leader took the camping supplies and threw them on the ironcast pan as soon as the fire was ready. He watched her wordlessly, the way she still wanted to take care of her companions when she had already done so much. It made his heart sing. And yet he knew she was exhausted, only fueled by the terror of their cranial stowaway. He ran a large hand between her shoulder blades as if to sooth the thought from both their minds, a barely there motion of circles had her leaning back against him as they waited for dinner to cook.

Gale had been regaling his time in Netheril for anyone who would listen. Wyll, Shadowheart, Karlach and Astarion had popped open a bottle of wine and emptied its contents into their chalices. Lae'zel plucked a piece of food far too early from the pan with a dagger and bit into it. But that was typical for her, Halsin had grown to expect. As a bear he'd often do the same but as an elf he would not turn up his nose to some well cooked spices. For a former archdruid this is not where he had expected to end up but now it was hard to imagine being anywhere else. He had grown to enjoy each of their companionship.

His lover traced soft lines into his hand, the druid feeling a shiver run down his spine. He had had many lovers in his time but few made him feel as heard and truly himself as her. How could one not be drawn to such inner beauty? Halsin was pulled from his thoughts when a bowl was pushed towards him, his lover smiling, clearly recognizing he had let his mind wander. He thanked her, taking the plate and taking a bite from the steak. He was quick, first to finish and even grabbing seconds. It's why he always made sure to collect more than an ample supply.

At last full, the others opened another bottle of wine joining in as chatter grew louder accompanied by laughter, the drink finally starting to settle into their tired bones. He suspected with the heat and the wine, it would take very little to addle their minds. Halsin could not savor in the moment, far too preoccupied now that neither heat nor hunger kept his mind elsewhere. Sensing this she looked up to him, nodding her head towards a darkened path that led from camp, "Give me a few moments, then come find me.. if you can. I want to see if the famed Druid Halsin is as great a hunter as they say." she was up so quickly he hadn't even had the time to reply.

Halsin's body felt alight as if every nerve was set on fire, the promise of this little hunt had been a most delightful surprise. His mind was buzzing with anticipation. Perhaps he gave her more time than he should and as he stood the others seemed to cheer him on. It was no secret where he was going and for what, nor did either of them ever try to hide it. He would've even chuckled at their cheering if he hadn't been so enraptured by the chase.

As he broke through the treeline the druid broke into a sprint, his senses heightened by the thrill. Wildshape was something he could do without, at least for now. Her scent still wafted in the air, standing out from the smell of soil and decaying leaves. Sweet, like honey. He stood still long enough to hear the snapping of branches to turn and run in where the noises were loudest. It hadn't been long when he caught the first flitter of that familiar dress, the moonlight that peaked through dense treetops made it too easy. He gave chase, hearing the pace quicken as she must've heard him too. Adrenaline pumping he could feel his eyes glowing with a familiar golden hue, threatening to force him into his ursine shape. No, he wanted to hold back , wanted to capture her as he was now. A clearing opened up, not unlike their first night together- seeing her run down to the lone tree that stood just at the edge of the water. He picked up the pace, quickly catching up so close he could almost touch her.

She stops, only to drop against the forest floor, her back against the lush grass. He halted, just fast enough that he didn't topple over her, but it did not stop him from nearly pouncing on her. He drew her hands upward in his, both his legs trapping her own. "It is unlike prey to merely surrender when in chase." He breathes heavily, watching her own chest heave from the exertion. Again he sees how her nipples press against the fabric, beckoning him to rip away the article of clothing. He resists the impulsive thought.

"Maybe I wanted to be caught." She smiles, her skin kissed by the soft blue glow of moonlight. She is breathtaking to him.

He descends, letting go of her hands so that he may touch everywhere he can as his lips press against hers. Halsin moves his leg to nudge between her thighs, which she happily parts for. It's euphoric, his tongue dipping into her mouth to taste every bit of her as she moans against him. He gives his own groan deep in his chest as she threads her fingers through his hair much like she did earlier and tugs lightly. His hands drift downwards, continuing to kiss her with everything he has, his thumbs finding the slits of the dress before his hand finds its way to that familiar patch of curls. Her body tenses only for a moment, her breath heavy as he realizes she hadn't even been wearing anything underneath.

"My heart…" He rumbles low, like faraway thunder, "nature pales in comparison to you."

"My love," She pleads back, "let me feel you. I have been waiting for far too long."

"Then you shall have me." He pressed another passionate kiss to her lips before peppering chaste kisses to her cheeks and then the warmed skin of her neck. She moans and his hand travels further still, his thumb tracing over her labia to feel her need coat his thumb. It makes him groan, feeling how ready she is for him. Halsin's kisses travel even farther still, taking his time to turn his attention on her covered nipple, then the other, all while his hand continues to circle her clit. The sounds he pulls from her are high and sweet like music, sounds he could not get enough of. She's begging as he continues soft circles, not enough to send her over the edge just yet, but enough to make her legs shake.

"Halsin, please." She says so softly he can barely hear it through her heavy breaths.

His lips have found their way lower, fingers now leaving her clit to push the offending fabric away. Her chest is rising and falling rapidly, a soft whine when his fingers leave but let's out a cry when his mouth is there instead. The flat of his tongue swipes upwards before he truly sets in on his work, his tongue delving into her entrance makes her dig nails into his hair as he pulls her leg over his shoulder for better purchase, trapping her thigh with his arm. She is crying out his name with each swipe of his tongue and he can tell she is not far now. He hums and the feeling reverberates through her, pressing her upper back into the ground in attempts to arch her back in his strong grasp. With one arm hooked around the underside of her bent knee and the other pressing against her stomach it is hard for her to escape his hold. She tastes divine, the druid pulling sounds from her with each lick and suck. He could stay here forever, devoting his mouth to her pleasure until the sun rose again. But admittedly even he was growing impatient to finally feel all of her again.

The hand at her stomach ventured downwards trapping her other leg in the bend of his arm and aiding his tongue as he rubbed circles against her clit. Her sounds grew shrill, no longer words, just a desperate cry for release. And who was he to deny her? Now with vigor his mouth and fingers doubled their efforts , her hips canting to meet his mouth before she came with a shout, heel digging into his back and arching her own before falling back into the grass. Her chest rose and fell with quick breaths ,too blissed out to see how Halsin kept his eyes on her face through it all. He gave another testing swipe of his tongue and her hips stuttered, her voice begging for a short reprieve.

Halsin withdrew reluctantly, finding his way so that their eyes met again as he was careful not to put his large weight on her. He drew some of her hair away from her face, stuck to her brow from the heat as she gave him a lazy smile. Silvanus, she was the most beautiful creature he had ever been lucky enough to set eyes on. Chest rising and falling with eyes lit by the stars. He leaned down to kiss her, still hungry for her, but just as softly as she deserved.

“Okay, “ she said between the kisses, “Let me up.” her breath finally started to calm.

Quirking his brow he cocks his head slightly, “You’re.. Done?” there is a measure of reluctance in his voice, almost ready to ask if he had done something wrong when she smiles a sly smile. So he sits up, allowing her to stand up, and he follows. She’s already darting to the lone tree, a large willow with its dropping leaves that hung over with a heavy canopy swaying softly in the night air. She presses her back against the bark and beckons him closer with a crooked finger and it takes him only seconds to be upon her, resting his hand above her head as he stands over her. “Hardly, as if I could ever be done with you.” She whispers and he knows it’s the truth. The dam breaks and Halsin kisses her as if he hadn’t in centuries holding her against the trunk of the great willow, doing his best not to press his body too roughly against her smaller one. Her hands grab for the tassels that hold his pants together and he cannot help but moan into her mouth as she cups his hard length through the leather. Godsdamned constricting clothing!

With a grunt he pulls back, face twisting in conflict for the brief moment he had to part from her before yanking the pants from his hips, nearly tearing it in his need and stepping out. It is mere seconds but it feels far too long as he returns to her, pulling the long front of the dress to the side and letting out a low growl into her mouth as he feels her cunt rub against the length of him. Halsin stretches his neck, eyes an amber glow once again as he bares his teeth. “You intoxicate me.” He rumbles as he pulls her thigh to wrap around his waist with little effort.

“And you, I.” Her breathing is light and airy as he feels her tease against him, still feeling her warmth and wetness rub against the underside of his cock. He feels almost lightheaded and then the chord of his patience snaps. He lines himself up and pulls her into him as gently as he can in this state. “H-halsin!” She whines with a desperate warble that makes his back arch, pushing deeper into her.

“My heart,” he sighs, feeling how she stretches around him as his arms brace her hips, “You are nature’s greatest gift.. as if sent to me, meant to take me..” He groans as he finally seats himself all the way inside her and he can feel the way her breath shakes at every sensation.

“Then take me.” She whines, pulling him in to kiss, “You are driving me mad, don’t hold back.”.

It is enough to have his hips pull back and rut hungrily back into her, forcing a silenced yelp from her as Halsin no longer holds back, pressing his nose against her neck as his hips fight with hers. Through the haze he registers she’s still wearing the dress and he curses to himself, wishing he had removed it earlier before the threat of ripping it to shreds didn’t become more and more prevalent in his mind. He pulls the straps at her arms down, not enough to tear. She loves the dress and his heart could not bear to ruin what little pleasure she was allowed. She deserved at the very least that much. She pulls her arms from the straps to hook them around his broad shoulders, and he can hear her panting in his ear. It’s enough to make his eyes roll back in his head, hands moving from her waist to the hem of her dress to pull the offending fabric down, exposing her bare breasts to him. Halsin's hands pluck and rub against her budding nipples, the whine leaving her lips like a song. Despite the night it is still hot, he feels the sweat roll down his brow, the wind that rushes past his body is cold from the perspiration at his back. It’s a welcomed feeling after the day and it renews him with strength. His hips are rough and punishing, he can feel she’s close and each thrust into her tightness has him wanting more. The sounds, her scent that only grows stronger with the heat and their joining, driving him to near madness. The druid braces his free hand behind her back, hoping to alleviate the roughness of the bark against her from the tree.

“Hells.” She managed out, pressing her head against the trunk “I’m close, my love.” she warns.

“As am I.” he breathes against her throat, “Let me feel all of you, my heart. Do not hold a single one of those beautiful sounds back from me.” At that his hips are even harsher, and he feels her body begin to shake, her leg at his hip squeezed against him as she let out a cry of pleasure, growing impossibly tight around his length. Absolute bliss glimmers in her eyes, and he gives one, two, then one last thrust and follows her into that wonderful afterglow. They both stand there, her body nearly limp against him, his weight pressing back is the only thing that keeps them held against the tree, neither of them moving as he runs a hand soothingly against her hair, only listening to one another's haggard breaths as they slowly come back to the world around them.

“I don’t think I could ever tire of this.” She says and he can feel how the culmination of their joining begins to spill from her on to him.

He smiles, his heart feels full to see her so relaxed in his arms, “The night is far from over, my love.”. She smiles, pulling him in to kiss him once more. Halsin can feel his need for her growing again even as he pulls himself away, missing the feeling of her already. She nearly falls over him as he moves, the druid reaching his arms out to catch her. She laughs, a sweet, soft tone like honey and he can’t help but to do the same. Regaining her balance she stands on shaky legs, grabbing him by the arms and pulling him down with her into the lush grass. She laughs as he is careful not to fall on top of her, laying with her eyes to the night sky. Halsin does the same.

It’s a comfortable silence before she points to the sky, making shapes from the stars. They spend time just relaxing and he finds her arm intertwined with his as he points out what looks like a bear.

“I am not surprised you would find a bear, my love.” She teases.

“Look,” he points, adamant on the ursine shape in the sky, “You cannot look at that and tell me it isn’t a bear.”

She laughs again, rolling on top of him with her hands placed on the planes of his chest, “If you spot a githyanki, let me know.”

His hands immediately moved to her hips, “I am suddenly far more preoccupied with more important things.” he hums as he soothingly moves his hands up and down , tracing her hips to her thighs.

“Oh, you are?” she says with a roll of her hips.

He groans, gripping her hips now. Oak father, preserve him. It was hard to think of little else with her near. Halsin pushes his calloused hands beneath the slits of her dress and began raising the dress upwards. She aids him, pulling the remainder of the dress up and over her body, tossing it into the grass, leaving nothing to his imagination. A soft hum leaves his lips, now able to run his hands where he pleased on her soft and supple body. “Though I enjoyed the dress, this is far more to my liking. Bare, as nature intended.” She leans down, kissing him again. A feeling he would not soon grow tired of. Kissing back the heat returned, feeling her hips move against his. Halsin lets out a deep sigh, arching his back so that his cock presses against her welcoming entrance. She rolls her hips back, leaning her face up towards the sky as his name spills from her lips. He returns in kind, repeating hers in a soft tone into the night air. It was enough for the anticipation to be too much, as she lined herself up with him and slowly dropped down. He winced, she was somehow tighter and hotter, a sensation of hot wax runs down his spine. Halsin raised his hips, meeting her own in a slow rhythm.

She was marvelous, sitting above him and worshiping his body. Nature had truly outdone itself with her, the soft moonlight illuminating her . He reached up with one hand, cupping her breast, then the other with his other hand, watching as her body responded to his gentle caresses. He pulled at one of her nipples and she arched her back into the touch, dropping her hips down against his. “To be blessed with such a sight, it is more than I deserve.” Halsin sighs, drawing her eyes down to him, “Without you I would still be archdruid, still chasing after the shadowcurse to right wrongs from over a century ago. From the moment I met you I knew we were intertwined, my heart.” Her hips keep moving, but slow only slightly, “Halsin, without you I would’ve gone crazy long ago. You, my one sage council, who I can always look for when I need help. Like a tree rooted in deep soil, I can always look to you. That is more than I could have ever asked for.”

“You have my heart, my love.” She says finally.

“And you have my love, my heart.” He returns.

She leans down, kissing his lips in a neediness he often doesn’t see in her. He returns in kind, feeling her tongue slip into his mouth and he can’t help but push against her as she starts to pick up the pace of her hips, wanting this moment to feel like eternity. She pushes his shoulders, forcing him back into soft grass and he can't help the chuckle that leaves him. But her dominance makes him groan, raising his hips harder as her thrusts come down to meet his. She bounces now, and he is transfixed with how her body moves, his hands at her calves, drawing soft circles with his thumbs.

“F-fuck” she whimpers arching backwards, her hands on his knees and rising up just to fall back on his cock.

If he could ask for anything it would be to live within this moment forever, to feel this pleasure, to know her body in this way from here until the Old Father took him from this world. The memory of her rising and falling against him would be etched into his brain for years to come. Her name left his lips once again, feeling the rising of his pleasure like the waves that crashed amongst banks of sand. As her hips canted he braced against her own, desperate for the inevitable end. Sensing this she sped up, her nails digging into his chest which only further heightened the pleasure that coursed through Halsin’s body. With a low and rumbled groan he came, his head hitting the soft ground as he spilled his pleasure into her. She followed soon after, a keening groan leaving her beautiful lips, pressing her body fully against his with a sigh escaping her lips. She kissed the half crescents she had left in the muscles of his chest, forcing another sigh to leave the druids lips. She lay atop of him, spent and utterly bear both physically and emotionally and he did his best to aid her, a strong hand running up and down her spine.

They lay there in silence, only listening to their heartbeat and labored breath. “We must return soon, my love.” Halsin whispered against her hair, though he did not want to leave their little oasis he knew dawn would come and once again the threat of the Netherbrain would be at the forefront of their minds..

“Let’s sleep amongst nature tonight. We can return to saving the world in the morning.” she sighed, moving so that she lay in the crook of his arm, spent and satisfied.

“In the morning, then.” he said against her, his arm bringing her in so she rested close. Halsin could not argue, to be amongst her and nature is all he ever needed.

The morning rays stir him awake first. How long they had stayed up enjoying one another, he was not sure. But what a night it had been, fully embracing their desires. He stood up, stretching and smelling the earthy wilderness around him, if only it had not been eclipsed by the rising towers of the town just a ways away. The water glistened in the early rays, fog still resting against its surface. Enticing enough to take a dip and from the way he felt, and surely she did as well, it was probably for the best. “My heart.” he roused her slowly, smiling in the way she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, “Let us enjoy the waters before returning.”

“Yes” she sighed with sleep still heavy in her voice, “that sounds delightful.”

They spent far too long enjoying the cleansing waters, both redressing reluctantly and returning to camp. Wine bottles littered a ring around the campfire, the camp still asleep as they walked through. It seems their companions had found their own fun in their absence. It was quite the night to be had by all.

#halsin smut #bg3 halsin #bg3 spoilers #halsin x tav #fem!tav x halsin #implied astarion/halsin/tav #bg3 smut #halsin x reader #reader x halsin #halsin #halsin pov

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itsabouttimex2 · 9 months

Note

hey 👋 could you please do more of platonic yandere hawks x teenage bartender reader pls ? :)) I love your work

(Aw, thank you! I’ll go back and tag this series as “Teenage Bartender” since I’ve got a few fics for it now)

Patronage

Out of all the people you’ve ever served, Mr. Takami is definitely your favorite patron. The League of Villains ranges from outright bad to somewhat decent when it comes to personality, each causing you trouble in their own way.

Mr. Bubaigawara is also pretty alright, but you have to cut him off after a while so he doesn’t drink himself to sickness. He’ll switch from thanking you for looking out for him to criticizing you for being a “mood-killer” in the same breath. You like to believe that the kinder half of him is the “real” one. It always feels more sincere, in your opinion. You try to see the good in everyone around you, after all. No matter how hard it may be, or how dangerous or depraved the individual is.

Maybe you’re an optimist, Keigo Takami thinks to himself, nursing a non-alcoholic strawberry spritzer. Or maybe you’re simply too naive to see the dangers of the killers and criminals around you. Maybe it’s a case of feeling obligated to love the unloved, to accept the spurned, to try and save those dedicated to hurling themselves headfirst towards irredeemability. Maybe you sympathize with them, with what they’ve been through in their tumultuous and checkered lives.

No matter what the reason is, what really matters is that you, in spite of whatever horrid circumstances have landed you in the middle of these villains, playing caretaker and maid and nanny to drunk, belligerent murderers…

You’re still kind.

That’s why Keigo truly believes that you, more than anyone else here, can be redeemed.

Not only because of the way you treat him, but also the way you treat your “coworkers”.

When Toga gets immediately drunk off of whatever cutesy cocktail she begged you to whip up, you help her get to a couch and make her lay down, leaving a bin by her side. When Shigaraki is having another one of his tantrums, you line up all the broken glasses and worn down equipment you have onto the countertop so he has something to focus his aggression on. You listen close to all of Spinner’s rants about Stain, even if you don’t understand a word he’s saying.

You see something in them, clearly. Keigo isn’t quite sure what it is exactly, but he’d love to know. Do you care about them? Do you think they could redeem themselves? Do you think you can off-put their suffering and bloodthirstiness by being kind? Do you consider them to be family? Do you consider him family?

You’ve been around him long enough to see him as a friend, surely. You treat the winged double-crosser with the same forthcoming kindness that everyone receives when they sit at your counter, ensuring that he’s happy, hydrated, warm, and not-

“-hurt? Mr. Takami, did you get hurt?”

“Sorry, kiddo. Didn’t quite catch that one. Run it by me again?”

“That mission ran a little long, didn’t it? Usually you’re back a lot sooner, so I wanted to make sure that you were alright, Mr. Takami. You’re not hurt, are you?”

Keigo is a well-guarded man. He doesn’t give away too much and he’s good at hiding his feelings and thoughts. Still, he can’t keep himself from smiling right now. With a gloved hand, he reaches out to ruffle your hair.

“Just fine, kiddo. Things got a little troublesome- when don’t things get troublesome, huh? But i got the job done no problem, like always.”

You try to meet his smile evenly, taking his drained glass and giving him a fresh drink in turn. There’s a moment of strange silence, something’s there’s never been between the two of you.

“I’m really glad,” you quietly admit to him, breaking the lull. “I think you’re… you’re the only one who talks to me the way you do. I don’t…”

He leans forward, propping his elbows on the table and resting his chin on his twined fingers. “Talk to me, pint-size. You’ve got my ear. I’ve got some time to kill.” He adds the last line just to make sure that you know he won’t mind if this takes a while. Even if he didn’t have the time… he would make it, for you.

“I really, really do like everyone! Really, I do! But it just feels… it all feels so endless, Mr. Takami. If someone isn’t mad at me, they’re puking on the floor. If they aren’t puking, they’re crying in the corner. If they aren’t crying, they’re picking fights. If they’re not fighting, they’re breaking things. If they aren’t breaking things, they’re mad at me for something. It just goes on and on, and I- I just-“

You pause, your breath hitching inwards sharply as you bury your face into your hands. You put your palms flat on the countertop, staring at your weary reflection on the polished surface.

“I’m so tired, Mr. Takami. And I feel like I’m never gonna get to take a break.”

“Okay, come over here,” Keigo guides, leading you around the counter by your hand and towards where he remembers seeing you head each night. Your personal room, he assumes. “The bar,” you try to argue as he pulls you along, “needs me at the counter. What if someone comes by for a drink?” Your words fall on deaf ears, it seems. “Most of the league is made of grown men, kid. Trust me, they can stomach a few hours without alcohol.”

He opens the door, giving himself the first view of your room he’s ever seen.

Knowing that you can’t see the face he’s making, the undercover hero allows himself to frown at the sight.

This isn’t a bedroom. This is a storage closet with a small bed and a nightstand. It’s barely four feet wide, and just about six feet long. The sort of room you’d put spare brooms and mops in, where you’d hide away a half-used gallon of drain cleaner or spare dish soap bottles you had gotten on sale. A place too claustrophobic and enclosed for anything except supplies.

But instead, this room had been given to you, a literal teenager who was giving their all to support the League in spite of getting nothing out of it.

For just a moment, his blood boils.

The League can pretend to be good. They can pretend to be heroes and freedom fighters. They can pretend that they’re fighting for a fair and just society. They can pretend that they aren’t monsters and murderers.

But this is how they treat their own. He’s always known this. The League of Villains prioritizes powerful, dangerous individuals above all else, prioritizes those who can spread chaos and mayhem in the name of their destructive goal. And you don’t fit into that powerhouse category, so you get shuffled away, tucked out of sight when they don’t have you serving them or playing babysitter to grown drunkards.

Keigo thinks he understands it, at least. But the truth is that some of the League do care for you. Twice, Spinner, Magne, Toga, Mr. Compress… all of them do care about you, as a friend or as family. And in turn, you care for them.

But he doesn’t think of that. As he helps you into the cramped bed, he thinks of “saving” you, and getting you out of here. Of bringing you home and keeping you safe from the harms and horrors of the world around you.

And there will soon come a day that you tumble out of the villain’s claws and into a hero’s talons.

#Platonic Yandere #Yandere MHA #Yandere Keigo Takami #Keigo Takami #Teenage Bartender

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turbulentscrawl · 10 months

Note

BUNS HEAR ME OUT.

Top 5 most protective survivors with the ‘who did this to you’ trope.

Let’s just say their S/O gets injured maybe in a match and it’s evident by the damage of the body that it’s definitely not accidental as they claim. So we get a “who did this?”

Maybe this could be a HC for you to do one day lol

Oh this one is quick and easy! I did go back and forth on the exact order here, but these are my top 5s. There is some overlap with the one I just did, but for the sake of changing it up a bit we’ll say that in this case your injuries are obviously also not from a Hunter.

Ganji is at the top because I think he’d be the most emotionally reactive to this specific situation. He’s not as severe as Naib in his revenge, but survivors hurting survivors is a big deal. Like, you’re all stuck here, in limbo, suffering, and some bitch thinks they’re going to start turning it into a free-for-all, too? Fuck no. He feels bad about it later, but he is a little aggressive while trying to get you to admit who did it. He’ll soften a bit if it was a genuine accident, but he still thinks everyone’s been here too long for simple carelessness to be an excuse. If it wasn’t an accident? There are unspoken rules here, and if the manor isn’t going to enforce them, Ganji sure as fuck will.

Naib still has to have a place here, but he’s a smidge lower because his anger is more controlled and calculating. His protective urges in general are pretty off-the-charts and, while he can’t do much about a Hunter hurting you in a game since that’s kinda the point, he can do something about a fellow survivor. He won’t press you too hard while you’re recovering, but frankly it doesn’t matter if you won’t tell him how it happened or who did it. He’s spent years of his life digging up information about targets and this is no different. If anything, it’s easier because he knows the culprit was someone else in the match with you.

Patricia comes after Naib and Ganji because her emotions lean towards desperation more than anger or bitterness. She’s been itching for someone deserving to lay her blood curse on, and this is the perfect opportunity. Someone who was supposed to be an ally has hurt her love? That’s rotten. That’s sinful. She won’t leave you be until you spill who did it. She’s gentle, of course, but every waking moment she spends with you during recovery is spent asking or subtly coaxing you to admit what happened. She’ll give up on asking after several days, but will forever be watching to see if your interactions with the others change. If she suspects anyone in particular, they’re gonna have a little chat.

Andrew can’t see what reason a fellow survivor would have to hurt you, but then he really can’t see reason at all when he’s so angry. He’s not nearly as likely as the others to go out of his way for revenge after-the fact, and he’s not intuitive enough to find out who did it if you won’t tell him…but FUCK he’s mad. Andrew just spends the next few days stewing in anger, tense, sucking his teeth, and cursing randomly in quiet moments. If you or someone else from your match tells him who did it, he makes it clear that he isn’t doing shit for them going forward. Oh, what’s that, they got chaired? Downed? Well, guess they’re fucked. He’d rather take the match loss than save their sorry ass.

Orpheus’s exact reaction is going to depend a bit on when you catch him with all of this. Getting hurt in the matches is normal and frankly he’s a bit numbed to it in most circumstances. But this isn’t a normal match wound, is it, dear? Some of his personalities are more reactive than others, and all of them are quite good at digging. He was a detective, after all. In short, he would appreciate it if you told him who hurt you…but even if you won’t snitch, rest assured he will find out. Whatever happens after that depends on which personality is in charge at the time.

#idv x reader #identity v x reader #orpheus x reader #andrew kreiss x reader #patricia dorval x reader #naib subedar x reader #ganji gupta x reader #turbulentscrawl #multiple idv characters

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lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 2 years

Note

Is it okay if i request how yan!twisted wonderland characters act on how to handle f! Yuu when she got her period and practically in pain, i woild be happy too if you can do the teachers and staff but platonic yandere but if you don't want to it's fine

(This idea just comes to mind while i was in pain in my period right now, also sorry if my english not good)

Period Pain | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

“What could constitute that you have to lay around all day!?”

*Whimper* “Becasue the pain is actually unbearable…”

“Oh…I didn’t realize you were suffering. Ace, Deuce, why didn’t you offer to help them before!?”

“But we just found out!”

“Quick, it is on the Queen’s orders that we care for our lov–I mean friends! Get them soup immediately!”

His various studies done in his childhood will probably include the female anatomy at one point

But he’s never witnessed it until now

And learning what your like during this time not only is this an awesome learning opportunity

(Which he’s telling if anyone asks)

But this is the perfect time to take care of you

And flex his husband bone a bit

Directing your friends and the students of Heartslabyul to help with various tasks you need to get done

He’s worried for you

More than usual

Treating it like a sickness if your debating if you should go to class

“I suggest that you take the day off! While I know more than anything that you don’t want to miss assignments but your health is of utmost importance.”

And if you do decide to stay

He’s checking on you after and in the middle of class

Often asking for your ratings of pain

When it comes to more comfort he’s hesitant

Mostly because he’ll burn up in a blush the moment he makes contact with you

Don’t even think about if you show your slightly upset with someone

It's not even in your control but Sam just so happens to run out of your preferred pain medication

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN, THERE'S NO MORE!!! WHAT KIND OF ESTABLISHMENT–!!!!”

Face redder than your blood

you can usually count on the dormleader’s anger scaring who ever bought the last pack into offering it for free as long as he doesn’t burn the building down

At the end of the day he’s pleased that he can provide for you…

“In the future…Let it be known that you can call me at any time. It’d be concerning if I couldn’t do this..”

Trey Clover

Probably informed by Ace complaining about your odd behavior he’s hurriedly rushing into action

Even though his sister is still young Trey is the type of guy to just know that this happens

Showing up with your favorite treats specially baked by him

“Figured you were feeling a little under the weather–so I brought some of your favorites.”

He’s not going to invite everyone to help him out like Riddle

Taking into account your integrity and privacy

He’ll keep it between the two of you

Heating pad, pain relief, tampons, pads he’s got it if he suspects you need it

Observing your behavior puts him ahead of everyone else

“It's alright (Y/n), you can rest on my shoulder. I’m sure its rough going through that by yourself.”

He offers himself as someone you can confide in especially more than usual

Willing to be a bit bolder the more you rely on him

He’s willing to give you a massage or to rub your tummy while you doze off

It gives him so much more leeway than his typical…drugging scheme plans

“There’s no need to worry (Y/n), I’ll be here for you the whole time.”

Cater Diamond

“Whoa this is like the worst thing ever, for you I mean!”

He gives you a hard time at first but ultimately he’s there to help

But don’t expect him not to document the whole thing

You can’t tell me Cater isn’t going to heavily allude on his socials that your dating

‘Going to buy painkillers for Pumpkin-bae’

If you at some point bring it up, he’ll just say that's a nickname he uses for you it doesn’t mean anything it does

He’s more than willing to rub your back and tummy

But beware should you find yourself sleeping off the pain he’s taking so many pictures

With no regard to the fact that you just feel your worst

he’s archiving and posting like this is Crewlchella

“Ah, isn't my babycakes the cutest!?”

Despite his willingness to share online all about you he’s hesitant to let the curious but helpful students in to help.

When he does he’s secretly mulling with a smile on his face

But believe him when he finds a way to casually dismiss everyone

Being sure to be your sole confidant at one point or another

“Well well aren’t you miss popular? No worries you’ve got me all to yourself and I’m definitely made of boyfriend-material!”

Deuce Spade

“Oh? Oh. OHhhh!”

Either you or one of his seniors is going to have to spell it out for him

And even when he gets it he still doesn’t understand

Acts like your bleeding out

Trying desperately to stop the internal bleeding that isn’t happening

“I-I got you ice! I hope this will help. Its what my mom would give me when I was in pain.”

He doesn’t understand your mood swings but he’s going to back you up nonetheless

Yelling at someone randomly he’s either hopping on your rage train or just standing out of your way

He’s really confused but he wants to help

And he’s willing to throw punches if it comes down to it

If you need something from him you’ll have to ask

He’s not the sharpest tool in the shed

“I’m here to help (Y/n), just tell me what you need!”

Ace Trappola

“Uhhh that's gross!”

“Ace!”

“Sorry sorry, fine we’ll help you.”

He’s willing to help if only to avoid your wrath

He starts acting fussy when Deuce or anyone else gets asked to help

Or when you flash a thankful look at anyone but him

That's when he starts really putting in the work

And that is truly what gets him motivated to help

Bragging rights and something to hold over you head

But when its boiled down to it and you two were all alone

He’d sigh before offering to rub anywhere in particular

His hands may wander but for the most part he’s there for that insatiably warm feeling that burns his insides when you genuinely thank him

“H-hey y-you know you owe me right? Okay, okay fine, you don’t but at least let me do this…it’d be a pain if you came out of this and thought I was a jerk right?”

SavannaClaw

Leona Kingscholar

“Don’t bleed all over my bed, herbivore!”

He probably knows it's here before you do

Groaning as he starts making preparations for you to keep laying in bed

Just because nature decided to beat you up doesn’t mean cuddling is going to stop

No no in fact it's going to increase because on the worse days your bed-ridden anyway

He’s hardly leaving your side but he’s not taking actual care of your needs

That's Ruggie’s job

But he’d be darned if he let your scent spur any of his students into insubordination

“She’s mine. If you really want to test that out I’m more than happy to leave you incapacitated for the rest of your life. Grr!”

He’s comforting in that he is a literal heater pack,

That holds you tight while wrapping his arms possessively around you

He makes a bigger deal of ‘hating’ it when your on your period

He doesn’t really care, blood isn’t going to stop him from having a good time~

He’s more annoyed with the fact that he has to relentlessly drown you in his scent so you don’t get unwanted trouble

He’s no doubt willing to personally bully whoever to get you your comfort foods

“C’mon herbivore be grateful I thought of you on the way over.”

Ruggie Bucci

“Eek! Already!?”

He does keep track though

He includes you in his monthly budget

Prepared to satiate whatever you may need during this time

Especially some painkillers that will help you cart through the day without him

He’s a busy hyena

He typically won’t be able to drop everything for you

But no doubt when the moment arises he’s got groceries and anything you need

“Take it easy (Y/n), you’ll be more able to score more deals if you're actually not fighting cramps. So just rest.”

He’s really respectful

And he may not have the luxury of staying over the whole time

But if not the night than the early morning

After all he has to take care of Leona

“Geez you’d think I should pay for my services with how often I’m doing this.”

“But you already do…”

“Then where's my paycheck?”

“Uh you get yours in hugs and kisses?”

“...okay with interest, right?”

Jack Howl

“I am prepared for this! Steel yourself (Y/n)! Hold out just a little bit longer.”

Once again may have picked up on it much sooner than you

Will be especially vigilant, fully taking the environment into account

He’s not going to scent you directly unless he outright asks

Otherwise major guard-dog energy

Such a cheerleader

He realizes there isn’t much he can do other than offer his body heat and general comfort

“So this is the true power of being a woman? Truly admirable!”

He’s getting whatever you need by any and all means necessary

That's his job as your mate

He must be your protector, your provider

“Leave it to me (Y/n)! I’m here for you. As I’ll always be.”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

“I-i see uhm I’ll uh-help you with that. Contrary to belief I am prepared for this.”

He’s really not lying

Upping his own research about women and how to impress them

Left him with a quite a lot of knowledge about the female anatomy

He’s fretting all throughout the day as he prepares a little care package

His anxiety is on an all time high as he debates if he should give this to Jade to deliver

But true to nature he’ll laugh and come up with some arbitrary excuse

Forcing Azul to do it himself

Red in the face as he's stumbling over his words he’s truly not used to seeing you so vulnerable

But once he pushes down his initial embarrassment

He’s more than happy to do whatever you wish because he likes being useful to you

“Hey Azul can you pass me–”

“The heating pad? Already have it.”

“Oh thanks!”

“/////”

He does get a little concerned when others help more than him

So he might just buy or threaten for whatever someone is bringing you so that he can officially hand it to you himself

“Just know I’m more than capable of doing this and so much more. S-so be at ease around me okay?”

Jade Leech

”Oh my! Well I guess it is that time after all.”

Pretends this is a surprise when he finds you hunched over somewhere

He totally keeps track

But he thinks it's amusing to see you struggle with handling your mood and dealing with the cramps

He’s helping all the while

With front row seats to your most vulnerable moments

He’s enjoying it until he’s pulled away or you begin relying on everyone else

Working in the Monstro Lounge during your week of pain has him stinking up the place with his terrible mood

Bordering Floyd levels of strangulation encounters

he’s relentlessly trying to burn off his explosive anger from being away from you during this time

Call him instinctually motivated but the moment he gets the chance he slinking back to your side

“Don’t stop me from going to them…otherwise I will stay…and see exactly how fragile your ribcage is.”

Floyd Leech

“And you’ll just be laying around because of cramps? That sounds boring!”

He’s not much help in the realm of comfort

Unless your yelling at him during a particularly intense pain cycle

He’s not going to do anything

But he is in a bad mood

“My shrimpy won’t talk to me…They’re in such a bad mood…it puts me in a bad mood!”

Watch out without you there to maintain some semblance of balance he’s practically on a rampage

No one is safe

And in that mentality everyone is catering to you so you can entertain him for a short awhile

He won’t completely abandon you if you very seriously explain or your crying from the pain/frustration

“Shrimpy…you're really hurting aren’t you?”

Only for you

Only for you will he settle himself down to cuddle you

Holding you tight against him

No one will bear witness

And if they do they will wish they hadn’t

“It's not so boring laying with my shrimpy…and it certainly won’t be boring when you’re not breathing.”

Scarabia

Jamil Viper

“I have just the recipe for this.”

He’s a caretaker

Has been all his life so this is no hard feat

Although he’s not used to caring for a girl on her cycle

he's still one of the best

He’s cooking for you, giving you a heating pad, massaging you if you’ll allow it

He’s more than willing after all you’ve done so much for him

Yes, he’ll have to juggle Kalim but he can handle that just fine

This is you and he actually doesn’t mind caring for you

Afterall it further proves how capable of a man he can be for you

“I’m here for you, (Y/n). Obviously It’d be most convenient if you just married me.”

Kalim Al Asim

“Oh my gosh are you bleeding!? We have to call the teachers!”

Jamil has to sit him down and explain it to him

And even then he still has a hard time grasping it

But he’s more than willing to drop everything to provide whatever help he can

Which is mostly just Jamil actually relieving your discomfort

His way of helping is just buying the highest products

And then trying to somehow “Party up” your period

“Hey (Y/n)! Let’s try playing a game to distract from the pain!”

“Ugghhhhh.”

“Great!”

He’s really trying

And even when you or Jamil kick him out for awhile

He feels the pressure of how many others are successfully helping you

And decides he needs to get better

Or at least have a better understanding

So he will ask you about your ailment

Lending a listening ear whenever you want to ramble, rant, or complain

“Tell me all of it (Y/n). I can’t ever get tired of you.”

Pomfieore

Vil Schoenheit

“Oh dear…well I guess it can’t be helped.”

He was aware that this time would come

And while he’s not usually one to indulge in endless cuddling he will do it if only to satisfy you and him too

Already there with the best products

Heating pads, painkillers, and whatever high quality products that will come on short notice

He is definitely verbally bullying who ever came to help

He might insist on putting make up on you if your not a fan of it

What are you going to do, when you’re busy curled up in pain

If you try to get him to go away or not see you because he is a supermodel celebrity

He’s shutting that down real quick

“Don’t think I’d let you rely on some potato when I’m the one who cares.”

Rook Hunt

“Right on schedule madamoiselle!”

Totally kept track and if you didn’t come open the door he let himself in

He’s actually really amicable with anyone who wants to help

Saying ‘it's a beautiful display of friendship and love for Madamesoile Trickster'

Comfort food? he’ll get it

Massage? He’ll do it

Pain Relief….the natural way? PLEASE LET HIM

“Blood is not deterrent for me, muya lyubov.”

You’ll have to get him to leave with how…unafraid he is with your blood

Need to insert a menstrual cup? He avidly volunteers

Have to change a pad? He’ll help you change into a new one

No? Fine. He’ll throw out the other one for you

It never even made it to the trash

He fully is able to get whatever size you prefer

You never told him

You really didn’t have to though

“Rest easy Madamemoiselle Trickster! I will happily take care of you with great pleasure for it is an honor to see your beauty uncontained!”

Epel Felmier

“I’m on it! Leave it to me!”

Doesn’t really understand but he’s here to help

While I’m not confident he’s going to really know what he’s doing

He’s trying with that determined look on his face

This actually makes him quite happy

He can provide for you without having insane muscle mass

At least your mood can be a bit better when Epel concocting an apple tea that fills the space with such awesome smells

He’ll now start trying to keep track of it

Showing up at your house hair pulled bag and care package filled to the brim

Hiding behind his determination to grow he’s absolutely ecstatic on the fact that you have to rely on him

“I..want to be really good at this, (Y/n)! So please let me help!”

Ignihyde

Ortho Shroud

“I’ve scanned my archives and have deduced that this will be the most effective during your menstrual cycle.”

The moment you groan in pain he is on it

What kind of little brother would he be if he couldn’t do this at the very least

Portable heating pad, Massager, personal pharmacist

You name it he’s got it

After all as your future little brother it's only natural he help you with that stuff

“No worries (Y/n)-san, I’ll take care of you during this major happiness debuff!”

Idia Shroud

“This is…the prophesied otome nightmare! The period!”

He’s not coming near you for awhile

This is uncharted territory for him and he’s debating if he wants to challenge that

He no doubt sent Ortho to help if you

Now the question is does he end up making an appearance

On one hand he’s sure to build up on relationship points if he goes

But if he doesn’t go his rivals will no doubt up their statuses with his absence

He’d still be watching on all the cameras, so he’d know if they really were making any progress

But what about you?

For the possibility that you look at him or thank him for helping

Even going so far as maybe leaning on him!?!?!

Your touch alone could boost his morale significantly

Not to mention sending him in an absolute frenzy

In the end he’ll stick it out…if only Ortho enters with him

“From my research, something that's helpful for dealing with pain is a distraction…so would you want to watch me play?”

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia

“Child of man? Are you…dying?!”

He’s very confused and incredibly scared

Whether you're clutching your midsection in pain or having bled through your pants

He’s in hysterics

Weren’t you supposed to live longer!?

He’s in a panic teleporting you to a teacher or the Diasomnia dorm

Where he’s urgently informing Lilia and staff about your situation

If your not already crying from embarrassment he’s eventually told the reason why this is happening

“You’re not dying but you’re still in pain? How…peculiar of the human body to plague you in such a way.”

If your period was a person he would have brutally murdered them a long time ago

Sneering at the mention of it while your groaning about it

Don’t let him know about how to make it stop

Otherwise your going to have a hard time convincing him this isn’t worth getting you pregnant for

A good way to is to give him another way to help

Maybe removing the pain with pleasure?

“If this spares you the pain of that wretched cycle then I will give you everything you desire.”

Lilia Vanrouge

“Ah, that time is here. Well then guess I should be making you my special recipe!”

“No, please! Anything but that!”

He’s one who may not keep track but he’s able to notice the signs

You’re so vulnerable he can get away with so much!

Like every situation that involves you he is amusing himself

He’ll help you with remedies he’s experienced through his many travels

Providing exotic painkillers that magically transform all your pain into something alse

Uh oh! Now you have something else bothering you, oh what will you do?

“Oya you seem to be struggling. No worries! I’m more than prepared to help you with this pleasurable side effect. No worries, I'm no stranger to blood!”

Silver Vanrouge

“Bleeding!?!?! Stand back! I need to put pressure on the wound!”

As soon as you get him to stop trying to put pressure on your…yeah

You’ll have to specifically explain the science behind your cycle

Alas his support is immediately garnered

“Alright! Fath–Lilia said I could aid you in this endeavor. Saying it’d be a good experience for my future as a guard to Master Malleus.”

He’ll do all that he can with due diligence

And he’s more than happy to curl up to take your naps with you

But when all's said and done you’ll try and send him away

Keyword: “Try”

“Okay thanks for all your help Silver. Have a good night.”

“Are you heading to bed?”

“..no.”

“Alright then.”

“...”

“So you're not going to leave?”

“Of course not. My job is to guard you after all, I can’t possibly let you go through this on your own as your suitor”

“Oh oka–wait suitor?”

Sebek Zigvolt

“WHAT IS THIS?! Y-YOU’RE DYING!? DYING!”

He’s alarmed

He knows humans are fragile but to be bleeding so much with no prior warning

Your akin to glass

He’s ultimately going to ignore your reservations until your loudly explaining the science of your cycle to this man

Eventually he will so gracefully take it upon himself to provide his help to you

Doesn’t matter if you never asked he’s helping

You’re so much weaker than him it's natural that he expertly help

With no surprise to you he’s quite bad at this

Misusing your pads/tampons/other

Throwing away your pain killers because they were ‘weak person’s crutch’

And overall just not making this a good time

So you’ll have to explain everything to him

Every tool, every step has a meaning so if he wants to help he’s following your lead

And for you to be so stern and serious…

SHOWS HOW DEDICATED AND POWERFUL YOU ARE!!

“I no doubt misjudged your expertise!! Show me your ways so that I may aid you in our future together!”

Staff

Dire Crowley

“Oh…uhm, right…what does that mean again?”

He’s trying…kinda

You need to ask him for permissions to deal with it anyway

And it would be especially gracious of him to supply everything that you need

…so that you’re not bleeding everywhere

It’d be concerning if that were that the case

So he’s totally following your lead with this one

Even though he’s not a fan of the fact so many of the students are swarming around you during this time

For all he knows you may need many people to help you deal with it

He really doesn’t like seeing you in pain so if you do at some point complain about it

He’s frantically sending you home

“Whatever you need (Y/n). I’m so gracious I shall help you with your condition.”

“It's not a condition, it's a natural bodily function for me that just so happens to come every month.”

“E-every month?”

“Yes…don’t look at me like that! It is entirely normal and healthy!”

Crewel Divus

“Do you have everything you need? I wouldn’t be surprised if Sam didn’t have that.”

He’s on top of it like Donkey Kong

Making sure you have everything you need

The only problem is the various boys that are ‘willing to help’

“I should have had Jack install those removable boards on Ramshackle’s windows…now the unruly curs will slink in.”

He’s wordlessly setting some magical traps for those who want to reach Ramshackle

His puppy is vulnerable and they’re surrounded by a bunch of other pups that are much bigger and rougher

If anyone asks about you he’s misleading them so hard

“Stay away from (Y/n) pups especially this week!”

“Y-YES SIR!”

“Good boys. Now let’s continue working.”

Mozus Trein

“I see. How’s your pain tolerance? Will you still be able to attend class?”

Seasoned veteran right here

He’s not freaking out because he knows you probably know best

But if you couldn’t get something on campus or in the town he’s willing to do what he can

He’s mostly being the reasonable voice when everyone just doesn’t understand

Depending on your own situation he’ll give you a written list of remedies he’s followed

While silently sending Lucius to watch after you

And I wouldn’t be surprised if he actually joined Crewel in putting protections on Ramshackle

“For once we’re in agreement. I doubt the students will be able to comprehend, let alone actually be of service to her.”

Ashton Vargas

“What, why would that stop you from exercising? Don’t you know pushing through the pain is how you look like me!?”

“No no you don’t understand this pain is much different.”

“I fail to see why you should stop even still!”

“If you don’t get me off this field I’ll bleed all over it.”

“O-okay. To the nurse you go!”

“Thank you.”

He’s not sympathetic because he doesn’t understand

And unless you phrase it as some type of training or exercise he will cheer you on

“Ace that period, (Y/n)!! You’ve got this!”

Sam

“Well that’s why I just stocked up on it, just for you!”

Really the MVP when it comes to comfort

He likes to pretend he doesn’t need to but he definitely did research about it

He wasn’t about to turn his favorite baby sis-student away unsatisfied

He also knows your harem will probably come soon and he can’t wait to play matchmaker

“And here’s that (f/f) you ordered in advance and for you some (h/f). Happy eating or rather gifting.”

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gilverrwrites · 4 months

Text

Time of the Month

AN: I'm suffering, so here's some of my faves reacting to their so having a rough time of the month.

He really doesn’t “get it”. 100% thinks you’re probably over reacting, however, you’re his sweetheart and he would do anything for you, so he’ll “play along” so long as he doesn’t need you for something else.

Won’t take time out of his busy schedule for you but he will:

Text you constantly through out the day.

Thinking of you doll x Are you sleeping? x You better be sleeping cause theres no other reason not to text back. HELLO??? ???? Sorry for loosing my temper baby, I love you. Just ordered those shoes you liked x

Will bring home/order dinner. He knows what you want, don’t worry babe, you don’t have to ask.

Still try to seduce you any way possible, he doesn’t care how messy it is.

Selina does not let her period slow her down, and so she’s hopeful that she can rub some of that off on you.

Has a yoga routine specifically catered to that time of the month that she’s happy to teach you. Has a diet plan that’s full of iron heavy and unsaturated fatty foods - leafy greens, dark chocolate, the good stuff.

Of course she understands her lifestyle isn’t for everyone, and what kind of cat themed thief would she be if she didn’t have a giant heated blanket she’s happy for you to stretch out on and spend your time lounging in true luxury.

Move over, she’s getting into bed with you. She’s stolen all of Brucie Wayne’s streaming service log ins, and she’s brought 50 different snacks that will make your bloating worse, but will feel and taste good in the moment.

Get ready for a week of binge watching whatever films make you feel good, eating way too much sugar, and sleeping whenever feels right.

Did you know orgasms can help relieve period pains, migraines, and generally relieve stress?

Did you know if you ask Waylon, he will eat you out until you can’t take anymore and/or are feeling any amount of respite?

If that’s really not your thing, be willing to also do basically anything you ask of him. Bring you snacks? Rub your back? Just hold you? Anything you want.

Will find the time look after you. Any excuse for some lazy time with his favourite birdie.

He runs hot, so it’s like having your own personal heat pad. Will find it endearing if you lay stomach down of his stomach, legs, whatever part so you can press his heat directly to the area that needs it.

Foodie and a snacker, so if you’re craving something, he’s got you covered, and he’ll eat it with you, no questions asked.

Knows a lot of ecologically friendly herbal remedies that are almost certain to work. Just sit back, chill out, and drink this tea.

In the very unlikely chance that those don’t work, and you’re down for it; Ivy is happy to fuck the cramps away, whatever your preferred method of orgasm may be.

The Riddler: Understands how periods work, but doesn’t care. You can’t let your body control you, or interfere with the mind. (yes he IS the worst kind of person when he’s sick.)

He does however have bunch of tips and tricks for helping overcome/cope with cramps and other symptoms.

Has a bucket load of ibuprofen handy at all times.

“Did you take the pills I gave you? Good. You know, coffee will help get that into your bloodstream faster, and might give you more energy. Since you’re making coffee, I’ll have one too, thanks, you’re the best. Well, I’m the best, but you’re good too.”

Request Info || Prompts || Masterlist || Ko-Fi

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 year

Text

Pretty Petals 25

Warnings: this fic will include dark content including rape/noncon, kidnapping, violence, sexual acts (fingering, oral, anal, dp), coercion, bondage, and more tags to be added as the series progresses. PREPARE YOUR PANTIES, HOES.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You go on a self-improvement retreat, but not all is as it seems.

Girls and Flower Name List HERE!

Characters: Ransom Drysdale, Lloyd Hansen, Lee Bodecker, Curtis Everett, Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Loki, Andy Barber, Hela, and multiple OFCs

Note: I am like in dread of work so here it is lolll

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all like birds love to appear everytime you are near. Take care. 💖

Zinnia’s screams haunt your prison. That’s what it is. Not a cabin. Not a house. Not even a fortress. No, you are all trapped here.

Her first night there is shrill and horrifying and endless. Not just for her but all of you. The rare night spent alone but only knowing that she suffers for it. None of you are so foolish to think these men would show pity for her inexperience.

You hear Azalea through the wall, sobbing. A few times, you find yourself awash in a flow of grief. Swollen eyes succumb to drowsiness and you wade through the night in painful sleep, waking now and again to the throbbing ache behind your brow.

The last time you rouse, you’re not alone. The weight in the bed next to your grumbles and shoves you back down as you try to sit up. Ransom rolls over as you lay flat on your back. He tweaks your nipple through the thin layer of your camisole and pats your chest.

“Good girl, Lily,” he closes his eyes and is just as quickly snoring again.

Is it starting all over again? Back to the basics. You and Ransom. You hate to admit it even in your head but his return is almost comforting. You know what to expect when it’s just the two of you.

You don’t sleep again. You can’t. You just lay staring up at the ceiling, watching the morning slowly spread across the plaster. It’s a startling calm that undermines your reality starkly. A reminder that this tiny corner of the world is forgotten and hopeless in a vast world that keeps turning.

You shift onto your side and hide your face in the pillow. You keep your back to Ransom as you rattle with suppressed sobs. It would be so much easier if you could just stop thinking.

You sniffle and try to tamp down your tears. You miss your apartment. After how long of cursing that cramped box, of wanting to be anywhere else, you would kill just to see your ratty couch again. Just to sleep on your lumpy futon or stare into your scant fridge.

Freedom isn’t what you thought it was. Freedom is waking up to an alarm every day and going to a job you hate so you can make a few dimes of your own. Freedom is parsing out that measly check in a desperate struggle to survive. Freedom is that sliver of choice you get in doing so. It’s surviving, all the same, but on your own terms. Not on theirs.

You want to give up, so badly. You should. It only hurts to fight but you won’t. You can’t. Dahlia is right. You can still have that freedom, in that you can choose your end.

You wipe clean your face and sigh. You glance over at Ransom and carefully fold back the blanket from over you. You sit up, jostling as little as you can as you shimmy out of your camisole and panties.

You ease yourself back on your elbow and turn onto your side. Your reach beneath the crumple edge of the duvet and feel around blindly. You wrap your fingers around his dick. He’s soft but not for long as you stroke him slowly, fondling his limpness until he’s hard and groaning.

“Lily pad…” Ransom breathes and pets your temple, “what–”

You hush him as you drag your hand up his stomach. You plant your palm on his chest and lift yourself up. You shove the blanket away from his body and hook your leg over him. You reach beneath yourself and angle his tip along your cunt. You straddle him, inching onto him as you let out a hum.

He’s stunned by his awakening. In that moment, you have power. You have something you can use. You sink to your limit and moan, twitching around him as your nails dig into his firm muscle. His hands crawl up and down your sides as he admires your body.

He shudders and lets out shallow breaths as you rock. You feel the tension knot in his stomach as you trail down. You sense the vulnerability in that moment. You see yourself smashing his jaw in with your fist or bringing your hands to his throat and squeezing until he’s gagging.

You resist that fatal urge and buck fast, the noise of your bodies clapping in the early morning hue. The bed shakes as you huff out your effort, closing your eyes as you cling to the vision of your liberation. The fantasy of violence driving you onward.

Too soon, you know it. Wait, watch, calculate. Don’t strike too soon. Not alone.

“Lily,” Ransom frames your hips as he pulls you down harder and harder, “fuck, what are you–”

“Shhh,” you smother his mouth and fuck him harder, leaning over him as you flick your lashes open, “I missed you.”

He watches you as you hover over him. You poke your fingers between his lips and delve into his mouth. He bites on your knuckles as you keep your hips tilting. He babbles around them as he quakes beneath you. Almost there.

“You going to cum inside me,” you hold back your disgust at the words, “hmm, I want you too–”

He gurgles and his eyes roll back as he spasms. You feel the heat burst inside of you and push yourself up. You lean back and ride out his climax. You stop only as he’s breathless and prone. Then. You could do it then. You could hurt him. You could murder him.

You sit paralysed, horrified at what you’ve done and what you think of doing. They made you a monster too. They’ve filled you with a rage that will never leave you. You will never escape the fractures they’ve rented into you. You can never fix yourself but you don’t care about that. You only want to break them.

💐

The morning brightens through the curtains, rousing Ransom as he sits up with an effort not to disturb you. His caution is uncharacteristic and confounding. You’re already awake but you don’t let him know. You just watch his back as he rubs his eyes and combs his fingers back through his hair.

He yawns and stands, his naked ass greeting you unceremoniously. You squeeze your eyes shut and listen to him move around the room. A low growl in his throat but no words. He dresses in silence and to your surprise, does not try to touch you. He leaves you confounded, hidden beneath your eyelids as you try to figure out what ploy is at hand.

You stay buried in dread, waiting. For his return. For some disturbance from outside; for screams, for thumps, for the eruption of chaos that comes every day. It doesn’t come. You only hear the deliberate movement of bodies trying not to be heard.

You get up and near the door. You grasp the handle and turn it, slowly, easing it around until the mechanism stops. You’re locked in. Fuck. It’s not a surprise but you want to know what’s going on out there.

You lean against the door, cupping your ear with your hand as you try to hear. Who is it? How many? What are they up to? It’s just a shuffle that you can’t make sense of, capped by the final and jarring snap of the front door. You can tell which it is by the weight of it, by the subtle creak of wood beneath several pairs of feet.

You retreat back to bed and sit, thinking. Ransom’s scent lingers along with the dread. They must be plotting something new. Another chase, another game, another humiliation. There’s a new girl so that means you all must suffer. That’s how it works. Their fun is your punishment.

You go into the bathroom and crank on the tub. It’s a small relief amidst the oppression of this place. You ease into the water and recline against the porcelain. There is no sense in letting them taint what little time you’re afforded to yourself. Those tiny moments when you can try to retrieve your sanity.

You think of the night before. You feel weak as the heat of the water seeps into you but there remains that sliver of anger, fueled by the memory of Dahlia’s words. Of the fury laced in her voice. You can’t do this for yourself but when you think of the other girls, you find it hard to admit defeat.

You don’t emerge until the water is cold. You pull the stopper and go through the usual. The routine that’s become second nature. To keep yourself moisturised and pretty for these tormentors. It brings a sardonic chuckle to your throat. You do it nonetheless, there is something soothing in the simple tasks.

You put on a white dress; a simple short baby doll. You go to the window and look out at the back deck, the pool sparkling in the morning light. Leaves sway above reflecting in the water and birds flit from branch to branch.

The soft click of the lock beneath your door handle jolts you. You turn to face the door as it opens and you repress a tide of fury as Hela smiles at you. She’s back in a flowing caftan, patterned with geometrical bands and edged with a crochet scallop. She looks ridiculous.

“Breakfast is served, Lily Flower,” she declares, “won’t you come join us?”

You don’t say a word. You come forward but she doesn’t move from your path. She watches you with a placid smile.

“Lily, do you forget all I’ve taught you already?” She challenges.

“No, Gaia, I am coming,” you assure her flatly. “I remember… I remember it all.”

She looks down at you and her lips curl further. She hums into a laugh, “you are still my favourite. I always knew you were the prettiest of my flowers.”

You try not to show your distaste. She is condescending. You see it now. Those nights you sat at your computer in those nonsense seminars, she was conditioning you, all of you.

She leans in and you fight not to recoil. She tilts your chin up with her long fingers and kisses your lips. You let her and she parts with a sultry breath.

“So sweet,” she whispers and gives a final stroke to your cheek.

She spins, her caftan fluttering and leads you through to the dining room. You take your seat among the several other girls already arranged around the long table. Azalea stares dead ahead, Zinnia’s head hangs low behind her hands, and Violet traces her fingertips over the table as if drawing a picture.

The others are brought in, one by one; Dahlia claims the seat beside you, Marigold emerges with her black hair in tangles, wearing the same outfit as days ago, Daisy enters without expression or reaction, and Rose looks around with an almost cloudy look in her eyes.

Hela floats in and out. She sets a dish of fruit before each of you, along with a cup of greek yogurt, and some yellowish tea with a pungent smell. You all just sit without reaction, glancing at each other in uncertainty.

“Please, dig in, girls, we have a day planned for all of us. We will take yoga on the deck. You recall our first days. And we will have some trust building activities. This is about rejuvenation. As the season comes to an end, we must all welcome new beginnings–”

“What?” Dahlia growls.

Azalea pops her head up, “is it… fall?”

Violet glances out the sliding doors, “the night comes earlier…”

There’s a lull as you all realise it’s been so long since your arrival. So long that you hadn’t noticed the changes all around you. You can smell it in the air, the slow transition is coming, you see it in the sky.

You exhale and peek over at Dahlia. She looks back at you from the corner of her eye as she picks up the bamboo spoon and examines it. A new safeguard. Can’t do much damage with that. She scoops up the yogurt as the other girls languish in their dissonance.

“I can’t believe we’ve come this far,” Dahlia declares.

You grab your spoon and mirror her, the other girls doing the same, going around the table until you’re all choking down the flavourless yogurt in a silent accord. You will play along. The season is not the only change coming.

💐

A day passes, then two. With no hint of the men. It’s strange but ominous. Almost as if knowing the men are around is comforting. Then at least, you know what to expect.

You have another morning yoga session, on your color-coded mats, by the pool. Each of you follow Hela’s direction; making the moves, taking each breath long and low. After, you laze around the pool in a communal daze.

You’re unnerved by the languidity that’s settled over the house. It echoes those early days when this was only a retreat, when it was fun, when it felt like summer camp. When you still wore your own name.

There’s something coming. There has to be.

Dahlia lays beneath a pair of square sunglasses, as black as her string bikini. Her muscles shine with sweat as the sun kisses her skin. You see the strength corded around her petite frame.

Hela looms not far away, on one of the longers as she has Violet sit near her. They speak in hushed tones. Each of you has your turn, beckoned to ingratiate yourself to the mighty Gaia. You roll over and put your chin in your hand.

Your eyes settle on Zinnia. She sits alone, heading hanging, hugging her knees. You can’t imagine how alone she must feel. The rest of you came here together, you went through each step with a sense of camaraderie, but she was introduced to you all as another set of abusers. Your guilt bubbles over and you stand, leaving Dahlia by herself.

You near Zinnia, almost shyly, and stop before her. She doesn’t look up, she only cowers in your shadow.

“Can I sit?” You ask.

She doesn’t answer, just shrugs. You lower yourself across from her and cross your legs. You don’t know what to say, you just felt like you had to come over.

“I’m Lily.”

She sniffs and picks her thumbnail. You take a breath and glance over. Hela watches you. You don’t doubt she’ll be curious but what else are you supposed to do? You’re all just sitting around, waiting.

“I know I can’t apologise because what happened happened. I’d hate all of us too. I could point out that we’re just the same but that won’t change how you feel. I’m not trying to absolve myself. I’m just trying to say you’re not alone so… if you ever need anything, I can do my best and I can speak for the rest that they will too.”

She blinks at the ground then slowly raises her head. She meets your eye and you wince. Her cheek ticks and her eyes gleam.

“I remember you,” she murmurs, “in the meetings. We were in the same breakout group.”

Your lips part and you gape at her. She is familiar. Oh, god. She’s just another dupe.

“Corrine,” you remember and she nods, her tears flowing out. “It’s a beautiful name but you can’t use it here.”

She gulps and wipes her cheeks, “I know. He told me—” she turns her head away, “he taught me my name.”

You shake your head and aver your eyes in turn. You don’t know what to do or say. She puts her legs down and leans forward, touching your arm gently, “I’m not mad at any of you. I’m scared.”

“We all are,” you assure her, “and you do need to be mad. At them. The men.”

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imabillyami · 2 months

Text

OR: 5 times Jey acts like a jealous prick and 1 time Sami finally gets it

-> @who-do-you-want-to-be requested: Samijey with jealous!Jey, feelings realization, happy ending

-> M/M, Teen & Up Audiences, 8.7k words, additional tags: enemies to lovers, mutual pining, first kiss, angst with a happy ending

-> additional characters: Damian Priest, Jimmy Uso, Solo Sikoa, Rhea Ripley, Dominik Mysterio, Finn Bálor, Paul Heyman, Roman Reigns (mentioned)

-> also available on AO3

-> my requests are open, additional info here

-> Hope you enjoy! 💖

(1) The first time it happens Sami is caught off guard.

He’s chatting with Damian backstage. Damian is one of the few people who’s still respectful towards The Bloodline - genuine or out of self-preservation he doesn’t know - but it’s nice to have someone to talk to from time to time. Someone who’s not his newly acquired brothers or his Tribal Chief, or a part of their family bubble at all.

They’re standing next to the door leading into catering, Damian with one shoulder casually leaned against the wall, Sami’s hands fiddling with a bottle of water that he’d just grabbed from inside.

He knows there’s always water in their locker room, but Roman kicked them out earlier, tired of his and Jey’s constant fighting. And honestly, he can’t blame him. He would’ve done the same probably, if he was the one suffering through third-wheeling their constant bickering.

While he was still mulling over how to finally get on Jey’s good side, Damian had caught him and roped him into a conversation.

They don’t really have all that much in common, so their conversations usually consist of Damian chewing his ear off about one topic or another, usually something about where he and the rest of Judgement Day are going to party later, or what they’re going to do on their days off. And they always end the same - with him inviting Sami along and Sami politely declining.

Damian never seems too upset about it, usually just ends up giving him a little grin when they reach that part of their familiar routine, almost like it’s a fun little game to him.

It’s nice to have someone’s undivided attention like that, especially someone who values family just as much as he does and understands all the complex problems that come attached to it. They have that in common, at least.

Damian’s good at distracting him from the latest Jey-drama and that’s something he can appreciate. Above all else though, their chats pass the time until he can leave.

It’s harmless. It’s frequent. It’s familiar.

That’s why he’s so surprised when this time around, Jey suddenly materializes next to him, eyes several shades darker than usual and face drawn into a threatening scowl “We got a problem here?” Even his voice is a lot sharper when he spits the words venomously.

Sami feels his eyes widen in response to Jey’s over-the-top hostility. He’s used to being treated like an enemy, an outsider, an intruder the Uso can’t wait to get rid of. Only this time around Jey’s hatred isn’t directed at him at all. No. And if Sami didn’t know any better, he’d say it feels like Jey’s being protective over him with the way he keeps shooting icy glares in Damian’s direction.

But that’s impossible. Jey hates his guts. Jey has no good reason to act like he does. So more than anything else, Sami is weirded out and a good bit mortified by this weird one-sided pissing contest.

Damian though? He doesn’t look very impressed.

“No, I’d say we’re fine here, uce.” he says with the most casual grin, eyes sparkling with glee as though he’s thoroughly entertained by the Uso’s tough guy act.

Sami’s not sure how much of an act it is though.

Jey looks tense, like he’s just about ready to pounce and lay a few solid punches on the taller man.

And that’s the exact kind of chaos they absolutely don’t need.

Putting a hand on Jey’s chest, he utters “It’s fine, uce. We’re good.”

Sami’s words seem to finally snap him out of whatever the hell is going on and he shrugs off the palm on his chest quickly and quietly, directing his scowl, albeit a slightly softer one (or so Sami imagines), back at his usual target.

“Whatever. Chief’s lookin’ for you.”

Sami gulps. That doesn’t bode well. “Okay. Alright. Let’s go.”

He offers what he hopes to be an apologetic look in Damian’s general direction and moves to get them out of there.

Anything to get away from this weird tension.

But it was never gonna be that easy, was it?

They’re halfway down the hallway when Damian’s voice booms loudly from behind them. Dammit. “Hey Sami! You wanna hang out with us after you’re done?”

His arm instinctively shoots out and locks around Jey’s waist, holding on tightly. Shooting a quick look at the man in his grasp, he sends up a prayer and a quiet thank you for his phenomenal instincts.

Cause judging by the look on the Uso’s face? His hold might very well be the only thing standing between Damian Priest and certain death right now.

“Uhm, no thanks.” he utters politely and then continues to haul a very pissed off Jey the hell out of there.

He’s seriously out of his depth here.

Cause what the hell was that?

What ends up catching him even more off guard than this entire exchange though?

Finding out that Roman wasn’t looking for him at all.

(2) The second time it happens Sami is confused.

The Bloodline is on Raw again a couple of weeks later when Damian catches him on his way out of Gorilla after a promo segment. The guy definitely has a death wish, approaching him the second Roman and Paul are out of sight, but not waiting for the Usos or Solo to follow.

At first he honestly thinks nothing of it, the last catastrophic encounter involving a certain Uso almost forgotten.

At least that’s what he keeps telling himself.

(In truth, he hasn’t forgotten about it one bit, he just likes to pretend he has. Cause there’s no reasonable explanation as to why the moment has been playing on the forefront of his mind for weeks, costing him more than one night’s worth of sleep.)

So yes, he absolutely has forgotten about it and carefully tries not to think about how any further interactions with Damian could make things even worse.

Jey is not his keeper, after all. If anything, he’s the one responsible for keeping Jey’s outbursts in check these days. So technically that makes him Jey’s keeper. Right?

His face scrunches up in distaste at the mere thought. The whole thing must feel so humiliating to Jey. And while Sami would do anything to keep the peace and his place in The Bloodline, he has to admit that he doesn’t think this was Roman’s brightest idea. Not that he’d ever dare to say that out loud.

Jey’s been acting even more hostile and snappy lately though, and whatever little common ground they previously shared is completely gone now.

He’s been on the receiving end of sharp words and blazing eyes and hurtful dismissals for weeks and he has yet to figure out a way to navigate this new assignment. Not that he thinks of Jey as such. No, Jey is a person. A flawed one, but a person, still. And he deserves some respect. Even if the others don’t seem to think so.

When Damian steps up to them, Sami notices Solo eyeing the taller man, his face somewhere between unreadable and unbothered as always.

But looks can be deceiving, especially when it comes to their youngest. Sami sees the tension in his muscles, the flex of his hands. He knows that Solo is ready to attack at any given moment, if provoked. He shudders at the thought.

His eyes wander over to Jimmy, who isn’t looking back at him either. But instead of glaring at the intruder like his younger brother, his eyes are firmly fixed on his twin.

Sami spots the clear apprehension in his eyes and he can’t blame him. Cause Jey? Well, surprising absolutely no one, Jey’s face hides absolutely nothing. His signature scowl is etched deeply into his face, his eyes are dark and furious where they shoot sharp daggers Damian’s way. If looks could kill, he’d be six feet under with zero chance of return.

Sami stays perfectly still and silent, too scared to upset the careful balance of the moment.

Damian however, doesn’t seem to share his concern.

“Hey Sami! How’s it going?”, he inquires, completely ignoring the rest of their group. Sami gulps and feels his voice get stuck inside his throat.

“The fuck do you want, huh?” Jey asks darkly, dangerously. Solo takes a threatening half-step forward, making himself taller than he is.

Their guest holds up his hand defensively. “Hey, whoa, easy there. I’m just trying to catch up with my friend.” Four sets of eyes snap over in unison to land on him and Sami blanches.

This is great. Just great.

Jimmy, ever the life-saver, decides to take pity on him and dissolve the impossible tension. “Well, ain’t nothing wrong with that, aight? C'mon boys, let’s go get some food!” He waggles his eyebrows and clasps his baby brother’s shoulder, slightly pushing at him until he turns away from them and starts walking in the general direction of their locker room, Jimmy following closely behind. “Hey Jey, you comin?” He throws over his shoulder, expecting his twin to follow their lead.

Jey doesn’t budge.

He just stands there, arms crossed over his chest and huffs “Nah, I’m good, uce.”

“C’mon, uce, just leave them be!” Instead of answering, Jey just stands a little taller, puffing out his chest, not moving an inch otherwise, never once taking his eyes off his target.

Jimmy gives an exasperated sigh and an eye-roll “Fine, suit yourself.”, before he turns and disappears around the corner. They both know there’s no arguing with Jey when he gets like this.

Sami eyes him warily. He honestly doesn’t know what to think or feel here. He’s mostly just confused by Jey’s insistence to stay behind and be part of their conversation, when usually, he can’t get away from Sami fast enough. But fine. If Jey is so dead-set on staying, he knows there’s nothing much he can do. Not without another nasty fight.

He sighs. Well, at least he’ll have a witness in case anyone ends up asking questions. Though he’s not entirely sure that’ll do him any favors.

“So uh. Hey! What’s up?” He decides to simply focus on Damian for now and ignore Jey’s general existence the best he can. Which means not at all. Because despite his best efforts, he’s acutely aware of every minor shift of muscles, every eye roll, every little noise coming from the Uso.

But hey, he thinks to himself, fake it till you make it, right?

Damian however, isn’t the slightest bit deterred by Jey’s presence or his constant scoffing.

“Nothing much. Just wanted to check in on you. It’s been a while.”

“Oh uhm, that’s really nice of you. I appreciate it.” The words tumble out way less relaxed than they usually would, his tone doing nothing to hide how on edge he feels. He stiffens when a snort rings out from next to him. His eyes drift over to Jey, momentarily distracted, before he focuses back on their conversation.

God, what is Jey’s problem?

It continues that way for a couple of minutes, Damian and him exchanging their usual friendly small talk, sharing updates and anecdotes, while Jey huffs and puffs and does everything in his power to make this encounter as painfully awkward as possible.

Sami catches his mind drifting away from their chat a couple of times and focusing on the Uso instead, so much so that Damian keeps having to repeat himself.

He takes it in stride, way more patient with him than Sami deserves.

But at some point, even the most patient guy has to admit (temporary) defeat.

“Look, Sami, I see you’re… otherwise occupied. I don’t mean to keep you. But hey! We’re all going bowling tomorrow night! Wanna come?” For the first time his eyes leave Sami’s face and land on Jey instead, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he finds the whole thing absolutely hilarious.

Out of the corner of his eye, Sami sees Jey’s stare turn murderous.

And listen, he’s not gonna be the one responsible for any deaths here, okay?

“I already have plans, sorry.” They both know it’s a lie the second the words leave his mouth.

Damian’s dark eyes dart back and forth between him and Jey, contemplating. A beat passes. Then, a familiar easy smile on his lips, he replies “Of course. See you around, Sami.”

They both pretend to ignore the “You fuckin’ wish.” Jey mumbles out not so subtly under his breath.

The taller man waves as he walks away, disappearing in the opposite direction of their locker room.

Figures. Paul usually tends to pick an area as far away from the ‘peasants’ as humanly possible’, even more so if their Tribal Chief is around.

Sami closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, trying to shake the dreadful moment.

He’s also mentally preparing himself for yet another confrontation with the younger twin that he isn’t particularly looking forward to.

But when he finally opens his eyes and turns towards him, a million questions on his mind, Jey is nowhere to be found.

It’s as if from one second to the next he’s decided to vanish into thin air.

Sami just wishes he could understand why.

(3) The third time it happens Sami is angry.

The next time around, Sami doesn’t even get a chance to speak to Damian at all.

He’d planned on apologizing for their last dreadful encounter, but the second Jey (who’s dutifully stayed by his side all night as though they’re suddenly somehow permanently attached by the hip), spots Damian make his way over to them, determined and not the slightest bit intimidated by Jey’s presence, he roughly grabs Sami’s upper arm, fingers digging in to the point they feel almost painful, and drags him along, not stopping until they are all the way back in their locker room, Sami’s loud protests going unheard.

Thankfully for them, no one is around.

Roman isn’t here tonight, taking some well deserved time off to be with his children. The rest of the family are off to somewhere else in the arena. But even if they were here, he doesn’t think he could hold back his anger any longer.

He doesn’t know what's been going on with Jey lately, but either way, Sami’s had enough. And he’s glad they’re alone, because he doesn’t need any witnesses for his impending outburst.

The second the door falls shut behind them, he whips around to face Jey, pure venom in his veins, fire in his gut.

“What the hell is your problem, Jey? I know you’re unfamiliar with the concept, but Damian is a friend! Judgment Day are my friends!” He’s yelling at full volume, for whoever happens to walk by their locker room to hear and he knows it. He’s way past the point of caring though.

Jey doesn’t even flinch. Instead he meets Sami head-on, his eyes dark and unforgiving.

“Oh yeah, Sami? You wanna go see what the Tribal Chief thinks about that?” It’s a ridiculous threat, seeing as Roman isn’t even here tonight, yet it hits its intended target and makes Sami feel strangely insecure all the sudden.

Jey’s been getting really good at that lately. Hitting him where it hurts. Though he isn’t sure why it bothers him so much more than it used to back when he first started hanging around them.

Jey has always been mean to him, but for some reason his words cut a lot deeper these days.

His next words come out a lot shakier than intended. “I don’t think Roman has a problem with me scouting potential allies.” At least he thinks he doesn’t. He never asked. But Roman would be okay with it, right? Or would he think that Sami was looking to leave them behind? Or worse - betray them? Huh. He’s never truly considered the possibility before. Maybe it is a problem.

Jey’s looks unnerved for a split second, something akin to regret flickering in his gaze, but ultimately, his face settles back into the usual angry scowl. “If you love ‘em so much, why don’t you go join their family instead, huh? Will you do it? Means I finally be rid of your ass!”

Sami feels his heart clench painfully inside his chest.

How dare he? How dare he say that? As if Sami hasn’t taken bullet after bullet for them. As if he hasn’t protected Jey specifically from Roman’s wrath more times than he can count? How. fucking. dare. he?

He’s on Jey in a flash, grabbing him by the collar, yanking him across the room and shoving him up the wall, rage taking over and controlling his actions. He’s never felt this angry before. Ever.

Jey stares at him in wide-eyed shock, taken off-guard by his reaction. Sami keeps him trapped with his hold and his stare in equal parts. He couldn’t run if he tried. His next words come out in a low, dangerous tone.

“Oh you’d like that Jey, wouldn’t you? I bet you would. But, guess what? This might be news to you, but I’m part of your family. Whether you like it or not. Nobody has a problem with that. Nobody but you. So I’m not going anywhere. And you better get used to it.”

He isn’t sure if his mind is playing tricks on him, but for a short moment there’s this weird tension between them, that’s completely different from their usual hatred. They stare into each other’s eyes unblinkingly.

Then, unprompted, his eyes flick down to Jey’s lips, a weird and unfamiliar feeling raging inside of him. He thinks he can see Jey’s eyes do the same once or twice, but that’s impossible, right?

They stay perfectly still for a long moment, neither of them daring to move or breathe.

And then Jey violently shakes his head, pushing roughly against Sami’s chest, and the moment is gone.

Jey’s insistent pushing makes him loosen his grip, allowing the Uso to escape and put some much welcome distance between them.

“We’ll see ‘bout that, Sami. We’ll see ‘bout that.” Jey replies in a solemn voice that he’s never heard before. A shiver runs down his spine at the obvious threat.

But before he has any chance to come up with a rebuttal, Jey bolts out of the room, slamming the door behind himself.

Sami is left behind. Stunned. Appalled. And maybe something else too?

He tries his hardest not to follow that particular train of thought. Instead he decides to focus on the important questions.

How on earth does Jey hate him this much?

And why does it suddenly bother him so much?

He has a strong feeling that the answers to both questions, as well as to the ones he’s still unwilling to ask, will eventually come back to bite him in the ass.

(4) The fourth time it happens Sami is foolishly hopeful.

It takes him another couple of weeks to finally get there, but eventually Sami figures out what the hell is going on with him, even though he’s mostly in denial about it, still.

And who wouldn’t be, given his situation? Cause the guy he’s deeply sexually attracted to (He isn’t quite ready to admit to more than that. At least not yet. He needs some time, okay?), just so happens to be the guy who’s been treating him like a mortal enemy for months.

The realization, when it finally arrives, doesn’t hit him out of nowhere either.

Instead it slowly creeps up on him and takes its sweet time sinking in, until one day he just knows. And isn’t that quite the surprise? As if things between them aren’t complicated enough already.

Sometimes he can’t help but feel that his life is mocking him. Especially when the antiquated radio in his car decides to deliver the perfect soundtrack to match his current struggle.

He ends up with that stupid Alanis Morissette song stuck in his head for weeks and hums it under his breath every time Jey does something that inevitably makes his stomach swoop and his heart pound a little faster in his chest.

🎶 And isn′t it ironic? Don't you think? 🎶

To some degree Sami’s always been aware of his general attraction towards men. Carefully sculpted beards framing plush lips, soft tummies spilling over tight waistbands, straining lean muscles bulging from effort in loose tank tops, happy trails leading down to soft bulges and meaty thighs.

Yes, he’s always been somewhat aware that men hold some sort of appeal for him.

Jey though - Jey is in a different category altogether. A category of his own, if you will.

Not only does he tick all of Sami’s boxes physically, he also brings out a passion and a fire in him like no one else has ever done before.

Sure, most of that passion and fire stemmed from complete and utter irritation at first (and still do to this day), but it still makes him feel alive in a way that he usually only feels while he’s fighting an opponent in the ring.

Whatever he feels around Jey - it’s the same thing that made him choose wrestling all those years ago. It’s the same thing that made him stick with it too.

And isn’t that a scary thought? That he could… like… someone the same way he likes wrestling?

That he could need someone in his life that way?

Being around Jey is a constant adrenaline rush, in both the best and the worst ways. And while he isn’t sure that it’s the healthiest thing for him long term, he can’t deny that he wants it. Desperately. Anger and irritation and all.

The day his stupid feelings finally come to bite him just so happens to be the day of their WarGames match at Survivor Series.

He stumbles into Gorilla, a shirtless, sweaty mess, still riding the addictive high of finally earning Jey’s trust and acceptance and the hug they shared. He knows he made the family proud tonight in more ways than one and it makes him feel like he’s on top of the world.

While the rest of The Bloodline quickly make their exit, ready to shower and relax and wind down together after a successful night, Sami isn’t quite ready to let the heady feeling go yet.

So instead of following them right away, he lingers a little while longer, accepts hugs left and right, despite his messy state, and rejoices when even people who usually despise him congratulate him on his impressive performance tonight.

They’ll go back to hating him tomorrow, but tonight is his and so he doesn’t even care.

He’s still right there when Paul comes rushing back to tell him “Your Tribal Chief has bestowed upon you the honor of representing The Bloodline at the official Survivor Series Press Conference.” and ushers him out of Gorilla with an impatient “chop-chop!”

And getting to do the press conference? Roman putting that much trust into him? That’s just the cherry on top of his already perfect day. And during the press conference Paul just so happens to add a second one when he unabashedly sings Sami’s praises in front of an entire room of reporters.

Practically floating on air afterwards, he makes his way through the backstage hallways, finally ready to shower and wind down and get the hell out of here before anything or anyone attempts to ruin his perfect night. He stated during the press conference that nothing could ruin his night, but he isn’t willing to take that theory to the test.

He spots Damian and the rest of The Judgment Day in a side hallway, hanging out, chilling like the cool kids they undoubtedly are, licking and nursing their wounds. He knows their night hasn’t gone according to plan at all, with both Finn and Rhea losing their respective matches earlier in the night. He feels for them, he truly does, so when Rhea spots him and beckons him over, he goes willingly.

They all offer him excited pats on the back and boisterous congratulations and he takes it all in, welcoming it happily and willingly. Damn does it feel good to be the MVP for once. To have all the spotlights on him. To be the one everyone is looking at with envy. He doesn’t usually allow himself to be this vain, but tonight is different. Tonight the rules don’t apply. Tonight is all for him.

Damian is last to approach him and when he does, he offers him a tight hug, not caring about his now obvious stench or the people around them. He holds on a little longer than is considered appropriate for ‘just friends’, but seeing as he’s breaking all his own rules tonight, Sami doesn’t mind - until he hears something clatter behind him, followed by a hushed “oh shit” from Dominik.

And of course when he turns around Jey is there, tag titles in a heap by his feet at the end of the short hallway, his face closed off and unreadable.

Seriously, Sami’s life is such a cosmic joke sometimes. He shouldn’t have jinxed it at the press conference.

But instead of coming closer to confront them like Sami expects him to, Jey takes off running, leaving the tag titles behind.

Sami is momentarily stunned by the odd turn of events.

He should be doing something though, right?

“I should-” he starts, turning to address his friends and pointing to where Jey had been standing only moments ago. He doesn’t hang around long enough to gauge their reactions or wait for a reply. Instead, he rushes to pick up Jey’s titles, the straps heavy in his hands, and hurries after him.

The Bloodline locker room would be the obvious choice, but he doesn’t think Jey’s headed there, not when he expects Sami to follow him and not if he doesn’t want to explain the missing tag titles either. So instead of heading back there, Sami scouts the surrounding areas, trying door handles, apologizing whenever he encounters someone who isn’t Jey.

He finally finds him hidden away in an empty office, pacing a hole into the carpet and tugging at the short strands of hair on top of his head, leaving them to stand up in every which direction.

When he enters quietly, the other man doesn’t notice him at first, too caught up in whatever it is that occupies his mind. The minute he spots Sami however, he stumbles to a halt in the middle of the room and stiffens, his eyes wide and unguarded for once.

They show his hurt, his frustration, his anger. They also show fear. Fear of what exactly, he doesn’t know. But he’s determined to find out.

When he speaks, his voice is surprisingly soft even to his own ears. “Why did you run?”

And that’s apparently the wrong thing to ask, judging by the way Jey’s eyes harden, his guard flying up and shutting Sami out again. “Looked like you was busy,” he snarks, “didn’t wanna interrupt you ‘n the boyfriend.”

Instead of the familiar anger, Sami only feels hurt bubble up inside of him. “He’s not my boyfriend and you know it.”

“Funny. That makes one of us.” Jey’s rebuttal feels like a punch to the gut.

“Why do you even care? It’s none of your damn business anyway!” So much for not being angry.

“Fuck Sami, you deserve better than that guy, okay?” Jey presses out.

Yeah. Fuck this. He was having a good night and now that was ruined entirely.

Stupid feelings. Stupid Jey.

“And who do I deserve, huh? Do tell! Cause from where I’m standing, Damian’s a really good guy. He treats me well, he makes me laugh, he supports me! He actually cares!” And I feel absolutely nothing but friendship for him, but you’re being an ass, so you don’t get to know that, goes unsaid. “It’s not like there’s a long line of people just waiting to date me, Jey. And it’s not like I’m seeing anyone right now. And either way, nobody gets to tell me who I can and can’t talk to, okay? Especially not you! You’re not my fucking keeper!”

Hurt flashes over the Uso’s face, his carefully constructed mask slipping. He starts tugging at his already messy and unruly hair again in a way that looks borderline painful. And Sami can’t watch.

Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s in Jey’s space, grabbing both of his wrist and locking his fingers around them tightly where he pulls at them. The mindless action makes them both freeze up, a startled gasp leaving Jey’s lips, his doe eyes staring up into Sami’s, before flicking down to his lips.

It brings him back to the moment they shared a couple of weeks ago, the one back then fueled by pure rage, whereas this one was created by care and genuine concern.

It’s funny how some things can change so drastically in only a matter of weeks. How romantic feelings can pop up out of seemingly nowhere and change your entire perception of another person and their flaws.

Where Sami was previously irritated, he’s now endeared, where he was frustrated, he’s now concerned and where he was indifferent, he is now intrigued.

And to his knowledge only love can do that - and there! - he can admit it, alright?

He’s in love with Jey Uso.

Holy shit.

He is in love with Jey.

Jey whose dark eyes are still locked in on Sami’s lips and who still hasn’t made a move to walk away or say something. Jey who’s just standing there, with wrists locked up inside Sami’s firm hold and his plush lips the tiniest bit agape - lips that look so damn inviting.

Sami doesn’t quite know what possesses him to do what he does next - or maybe he does. It doesn’t matter, really.

He simply leans in and presses his dry lips to Jey’s in a whisper-soft kiss that turns his entire world on its head.

He barely has a chance to enjoy the feeling or the moment, before the other man is stirred back into action, breaking the redhead’s hold on his wrists and shoving him back roughly, just like he did the last time.

Sami stumbles back, still dazed, and trips, falling straight on his ass, the bump to his tailbone sending a painful jolt through his spine.

Jey stands over him wide-eyed. Panicked. Arms stretched out as though he was trying to catch him.

They stare at each other, not saying anything. He doesn’t know how much time passes.

A loud banging noise just outside the door startles them out of their stupor.

Without a word, Jey moves to grab the discarded title belts off the floor. And then he runs.

Again.

(5)The fifth time it happens Sami loses all hope.

For days, after what Sami only refers to as ‘the incident’ inside his own head, he feels terrible.

Terrible about the way he basically forced that kiss on Jey, when the Uso had never even acted the slightest bit interested in him nor given him any indication that he was into men whatsoever.

Someone staring at your lips doesn’t equal an automatic invitation to kiss them. He learned that the hard way. Though the pain in his aching tailbone isn’t nearly as bad as the one in his heart.

The kiss shouldn’t have happened, simple as that. And it won’t happen again. No matter how much he wishes for a repeat performance, Jey has made it abundantly clear that Sami overstepped and that he’s not interested.

They haven’t talked about it. Hell, they haven’t been alone together in the same room long enough to have any kind of meaningful conversation.

Jey isn’t exactly avoiding him, but Sami gets the strong feeling that it’s more than just mere coincidence that there’s always someone else in the room with them.

He hates to admit it, but he’s getting frustrated.

All he wants is to apologize to Jey and tell him he doesn't expect anything from him, so they can move on with their lives and possibly, maybe even become real friends one day.

The thought of just being friends makes his heart ache painfully inside his chest, but he’d rather have Jey as a friend or brother than not have him at all.

He has to accept that Jey simply isn’t into him that way. Shoving him off, running away and avoiding the topic altogether after sharing a one-sided kiss is a pretty good indicator of that.

Still, that doesn’t keep Jey from hovering the next time they bump into Judgment Day. And apparently it also doesn’t keep him from shooting daggers at Damian.

When he confronts him about it later - with both Jimmy and Solo in earshot - all he does is shrug. “Just looking out for you, Sami. You’re my brother.”

And wow, if that isn’t a one way express ticket straight into friendzone country, he doesn’t know what is.

He decides he has to move on. Desperately.

That’s why, later that same day when Damian asks if he wants to come along and join them on their day off, he says “Actually, I’d love to.”, catching both himself and the other man by surprise.

Instead of a little grin, he receives a bright and pleased smile this time around.

(He pretends not to notice the way Jey’s head snaps up in surprise at his answer, nor the way he keeps moping and glowering at everyone for the rest of the day. And he absolutely ignores the way he mockingly wishes Sami “lots of fun with his boyfriend” once they part ways.)

Two days later, he finds himself on a yacht trip with Damian and the rest of TJD. Knowing Damian and his wild stories, he’d expected (and feared) some kind of crazy party with a bunch of strangers, but surprisingly it’s only them and their skipper for the day, though the guy vanishes as soon as they reach their destination for the day and the anchor is dropped.

Now it’s just the five of them.

Rhea is mixing drinks - non-alcoholic for Sami she’s quick to assure him - behind the small bar, Dom and Finn are lounging and sunbathing a few feet away from him, and Damian keeps eyeing him carefully from where he’s sat next to him.

It’s nice.

It is.

But despite everything that happened between them, he somehow knows that all of this would be way more fun for him if Jey were around. If things weren’t so complicated between them right now. If he could just tell his stupid heart to stop longing for Jey and be okay with being his friend instead.

Everything would be a million times easier.

They’ve been friendly and at ease with each other in front of the cameras and around the family, ever since Jey embraced him at Survivor Series. Deep down he wishes, no, he longs for that same level of comfort and ease when it’s just the two of them with nobody else around.

“Hey, what’s with the long face? C’mon we’re here to have fun!” Damian’s voice rips him away from his spiraling thoughts.

The taller man is holding out a large hand in offering and the second Sami takes it, he finds himself being thrown over a broad shoulder, his body dangling like he weighs nothing.

He’s sputtering, protesting, but to no avail. The rest of the group eggs them on when Damian steps up to the ledge of the boat, giving Sami a good idea of what’s happening next.

And before he knows it, they hit the cool water with a splash, all noise disappearing when they go underwater.

It’s oddly serene down here, and for a moment he’s able to forget about everything else and simply enjoy being in the moment.

His lungs quickly remind him of his need for oxygen though and so he propels himself back to the surface, greedily sucking air into his lungs once he gets there.

He finds Damian waiting for him with a cheeky grin and next thing he knows he’s being splashed.

And oh! This means war!

Soon enough the rest of the group joins them in the water and then it’s well and truly ON.

They end up having a fun afternoon full of teasing and joy and laughter, the members of Judgement Day way cooler and way more chill than people usually give them credit for.

Sami likes that they’re a real family just like his own, and whether they’re bound by blood or mutual hardship, they prove that it doesn’t make a difference at all. The connections and the love are exactly the same.

He lets himself enjoy the rare quality time with his friends to the fullest, and yet, despite everything, Jey is constantly on his mind.

And that’s why, when Damian leans in for a kiss on the docks at the end of the day, Sami turns his head sideways, so that it lands on his cheek instead.

When he pulls back, Damian doesn’t look disappointed though, nor does he look surprised. He just chuckles and his mouth pulls into that knowing little grin he always seems to wear around him and Jey lately.

The rest of their group wears matching expressions and somehow Sami feels like he’s missing out on the joke here. His shoulders grow tense on their own accord and his stomach drops to his knees.

What the hell is going on?

It’s Damian who breaks the silence, an easy arm coming to rest around his shoulder. “Relax Sami, we all know.”

“Know what?”

“That you’re A over T in love with the Uso boy, mate.” Rhea rolls her eyes at him… almost fondly?

“Still no clue wha’ yer see in t’at asshole.” Finn mutters under his breath, just loud enough for the rest of them to hear.

“He does have a great ass.” Dom muses. That earns him a sharp slap from Rhea. “Ow! What? Have you seen that dude's backside?” They all seem to contemplate that for a moment, and ultimately no one objects.

They do, however, say their goodbyes and make their way to the parking lot in a subtle attempt to give Damian and Sami some privacy.

He watches them leave, confusion clouding his brain when he turns back to look at the other man. “So if you knew all along, why still invite me? Why try to kiss me?”

Damien smiles and shrugs in response. “You’re sweet, Sami. And anyone who can’t see that is a fucking fool. And since Uso can’t seem to get his head out of his ass, I thought why not? Look, we had a cool day. You had fun, right? We’re still friends. No harm done. And I got my answer now.”

Sami feels weirdly touched by that. He thinks that in an alternate timeline where Jey doesn’t exist, they’ll probably end up together. A timeline without Jey Uso really isn’t one he wants to imagine though.

“Thanks Damian, really.” He means it.

“Don’t worry about it. But hey! Promise me you’ll think about it if Uso doesn’t shoot his shot soon, yeah?”

That makes him snort. “Hah, nice try. But Jey doesn’t like me that way, trust me. Hell, he barely even likes me at all!”

The other man’s face changes, a mysterious expression taking over his face “I wouldn’t be so sure about that Sami. I think you have a pretty good shot. Do you trust me?”

In all honesty, Sami doesn’t believe him one bit.

Still, he nods his head, slightly intrigued.

Cause at this point?

He'll take all the help he can get.

(+1) The next (but most definitely not the last) time it happens, Sami (fucking finally) understands.

Jey has been silently suffering for weeks and months and he’s just about done.

Sure, a lot of it was entirely his own fault, but that doesn’t mean it hurt any less.

Watching Sami flirt with that prick Priest all this time had been one thing. Watching Sami agree to hang out and possibly go on a date with that very same prick? That’s another thing entirely.

The flirting had looked harmless enough, at least from Sami’s side, so running a few quick and painful interferences under the guise of simply aiming to be a giant pain in the Honorary Uce’s ass, had been enough to temporarily calm Jey’s jealousy.

The intense stare downs and fights that followed every new encounter had been enough to get him his much needed fill of Sami’s undivided attention.

Things had been good. At least for a while.

He doesn’t know what changed that made Sami agree to the invitation he usually declined (he absolutely does know, thus far he’s just been a coward about it, looking away every time the redhead unleashes his sad and dejected puppy dog eyes on him), but he knows that he needs to do something about it, before it’s too late.

If he wants to shoot his shot, if he ever wants to let Sami know how he truly feels, he has to do it now.

He’s scared though. Real scared.

He isn’t even entirely sure how it all started. Cause for real - Jey couldn't stand Sami at first, alright?

The second Sami joined their family he had betrayal and rat written all over him.

Jey hated his fucking guts.

But surprisingly enough, his family liked him. Jimmy liked him. Roman liked him. Wiseman liked him. Hell, even Solo liked him - and Solo never liked anyone - half the time Jey isn’t even sure if Solo likes any of them. And they’re his blood. He likes Sami though.

Point is: His family liked Sami. His family accepted Sami. And Roman’s word was what counted, so he accepted it with a scowl and kept quiet.

Okay, maybe not that.

He probably wasn’t as quiet about it as they would’ve liked him to be. But somebody had to do something, alright? It was their family after all. And someone had to protect it.

And so he was mean and confrontational and brash and loud-mouthed, kicking and screaming and trying everything in his power to get Sami the fuck out and keep his family safe.

But Sami kept trying. And trying. And trying.

And funnily enough he fit. Not in the obvious ‘mean guy’ kind of way. No - he fit with them in all his bumbling idiocy.

Sami was loud and brash, in many ways just like Jey, but he was a lot more diplomatic and also a lot more endearing about it. His idiocy and his comedic timing proved to be his secret superpowers. And despite never knowing when to shut the hell up, that particular quality of his was exactly what ended up saving Jey’s sorry ass from Roman time and time again.

In many ways, Sami felt like magic.

As if he knew exactly what to say and when to say it to keep Roman’s temper from boiling over.

Lately, more often than not, Jey suspects that that might actually be the case.

For all that Sami liked to pretend he was an absolute idiot with no filter, Jey remembered that Sami liked to call himself ‘master strategist’, for all he liked to pretend to be a helpless deer in the ring during his matches, Jey knew Sami could outwrestle pretty much everyone on the roster - him and his family included.

Just because no one else could see it, doesn’t mean Jey couldn’t.

Sami was a perfect fit for them. No matter how much it originally pained him to admit it.

And before he fucking knew what was happening to him, the boiling anger in his stomach turned into a soft flutter whenever he was around their Honorary Uce, his scowls turned into smiles and laughs without his permission, and he had to work even harder to hide them.

And his dreams of ousting Sami from his family? They turned into dreams of drawn-out lazy kisses, his hands holding onto a pale waist and pulling at strands of messy red hair.

More often than not his dreams were filled with scenes of intense lovemaking that made him jolt awake in the middle of the night, sticky with sweat and the mess inside his boxers.

And later on a different sort of dream joined. He dreamed of shared moments filled with sweet intimacy and trust, so much trust that it made him wish that they were reality. That they were a possibility.

So yes, before he fucking knew what was happening, Jey was falling in love. And there was nothing he could do about it.

Well, except for acting like a jealous prick and fending off other suitors while also keeping Sami at arm's-length apparently. He proved to be a professional at that.

At first he didn’t even mean to butt in. But once he did, his temper and jealousy kept getting the better of him time and time again. Not that that worked out for him very well, unless he counted the kiss that he so cowardly ran away from, not because he didn’t wanna kiss Sami, but because he’s scared of his family’s reaction.

Which brings him back to his current predicament.

He’s silently watching Sami and that prick Priest (Damian, he corrects inside his head, Sami calls him Damian.) from across the room, the former standing with his back to him.

For safety reasons Jey has parked himself next to a bunch of large crates, ready to leap and hide behind them like the coward he is, the second Sami makes any move to turn around.

From over here, he’s taking in the way Sami’s large pale hands keep moving and the way his back muscles keep contracting under his shirt, where he animatedly talks to the other man.

He’s pretty sure Priest spotted him a while ago, but he hasn’t alerted Sami to Jey’s presence just yet.

Instead the guy keeps shooting him curious yet calculated glances over Sami’s shoulder from time to time, before his eyes settle back on him, an almost bemused smile making the corners of his mouth twitch every time it happens.

If he’s being perfectly honest, despite knowing that he has to make a move eventually, Jey isn’t really sure what to do next. All he knows is that they can’t keep going like this. Something’s gotta give. Though he’s not entirely sure what that something is.

He’s still scared of his family. Of what they would think, of what they would say and do, of what their reaction would be if he pursued Sami romantically. The thought of things not going well, of losing his family, even temporarily, frightens him.

But at the same time, the thought of losing Sami to someone else frightens him just as much.

Lately he keeps thinking that even if things go badly, his family would eventually come around and accept him, just like they always did. But even if that’s the case, the thought of putting a (temporary) dent in their relationship, still scares the living shit out of him.

He can’t for the life of him make up his mind about what he wants more. He wants to make his family proud. Always. But he also wants Sami. Always.

And so he stands there like an idiot, his shoulders tense, his hands cramping where he’s balled them up into tight fists, his nails digging into his palms, and watches on while the man he loves gets chummy with another guy. A guy, Jey reminds himself, he’s pretty sure Sami went on a date with earlier that same week, and apparently a good one too, after all they’re still talking to each other.

The minutes tick by, the flow of conversation between the two men never once stopping and now that Jey isn’t busy with making an ass of himself, he can see bright as day what Sami meant when he called Damian ‘a good guy’.

His adoration for Sami is written all over his face. It’s in the way his eyes crinkle around the corners. It’s in the way his lips curl into a soft smile whenever it’s Sami’s turn to talk. It’s in the way he laughs whenever Sami says something particularly funny and the way he rests an easy hand on Sami’s shoulder when he moves to turn them sideways, the profile of Sami’s gorgeous face now perfectly visible to Jey.

Jey is ready to leap into hiding, but despite the new angle, Sami doesn’t seem to notice him at all and he’s perfectly fine with keeping it that way. For now.

That is, until Damian reaches out, huge toothy grin in place, and starts toying with a strand of Sami’s unruly hair. He twirls it between his fingers, before carefully pushing it behind the other man’s ear, trailing his hand over the Honorary Uce’s cheek and neck, before it settles back on his shoulder.

The casual intimacy of it makes Jey sees red.

How fucking dare he-

Jumping into action, he darts across the room in a few quick steps, barely catching Sami’s faint and hopeless “I don’t think that’s gonna work.” followed by Damian’s smug “I think it just did.”, before he’s grabbing their Honorary Uce by the collar and hauling his ass out of there.

All Sami can do is stagger alongside him as he swiftly walks them down the long corridor in search of some semblance of privacy.

As soon as they’re out of sight, he shoves and pushes at him until he’s pressed up against the closest wall, Jey’s body effectively trapping him, just like Sami has done to him before, and catches his lips in a fiery passionate kiss.

This one isn’t like their first one at all. No. Instead of staying perfectly still like a statue, Jey lays it all on the line, puts all his unspoken feelings into it and straight up devours Sami’s pliant mouth.

The other man takes a minute to catch on, but when he does they’re off to the races, pushing and pulling at each other, hands wandering and helplessly clawing, hot breaths mingling as their tongues slide together and their teeth clack.

This kiss leaves no doubt. It feels like a love confession and a heated fight all at the same time and Jey honestly can’t say if that bodes well for whatever is to come once they pull apart.

He tries to draw out the moment for as long as he possibly can, latching onto Sami’s neck when they both need to come up for air, drawing some wonderfully sinful noises from the other man’s throat and sucking a mark into his pale skin.

When he finally draws back, satisfied with his work when he sees the dark purpling spot he’s left behind, Sami blinks at him owlishly, almost dazed and Jey can’t help but feel his worry dissolve, a hint of smugness taking its place.

“You done flirting with other people now?”

He brings up a hand to Sami’s neck, fingers probing and pushing at the lovebite teasingly.

Something in Sami’s gaze shifts once the puzzle pieces finally click together. A big smile spreads across his face, before his eyes turn dark.

He flips them around effortlessly, now pressing Jey’s back into the wall, so that he’s the one trapped by Sami’s warm body against his.

This time around, he one hundred percent doesn’t mind, already turning into putty in the other man’s hands.

“Huh, guess I am.” Then. A sigh. “Took you long enough.”

With that he reclaims the Uso’s mouth, Jey’s thoughts already drifting to all the ways he wants to be devoured by this man later, once they have some real actual privacy.

Yeah, he admits to himself, it did. But he has it on good authority that in the end, it was well worth the wait.

FIN

#my fic #my fics #samijey fic #wwe fic #samijey #sami zayn #jey uso #jeysami fic #jeysami #writing updates #fic requests #m writes #trying to step up my game by making my own banners and dividers (I'm a newbie at this pls be kind lol)#🐨

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hanakihan · 11 months

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so since @i-bring-crack gave me the idea now I’m having a brainrot so here we are

‘Tired salaryman transmigrates into other world, decides to chill and accidentally completes the main quest without knowing so’, the thread

- jinchul is your average day to day salaryman who’s exceptional in his field but his life is so repetitive and boring he rarely questions what he does daily, even on weekends he mostly sleeps or works because there’s nothing else to do (he’s like me fr—)

- one night he was returning home after a really hard day at work, one of very few instances where he overworked even by his own standards. he was sleepy and tired enough not to notice moon being too bright and shadows dancing at weird angles around him. he did feel like someone was watching him whole way home so he sped up his walking and that’s exactly how he accidentally fell through one of shadows after stepping on it

- he doesn’t remember everything after that that much, but next thing he knows is that he’s laying in a comfortable bed. then apparently he wakes up in a strange room that kinda looks something straight out of historical drama but also something out of those isekai fantasy novels teenagers love to read. which is even more confusing when a man enters the room. that’s when jinchul realizes he has no idea what language this man speaks.

- apparently after several hours of struggling to communicate mostly through sign language and awkward drawings/sketches, jinchul more or less understands that he’s either sleeping after overworking too much or he’s really been thrown into other world (time??) without any knowledge. Go Gun-Hee (as he suspects man’s name is because he pointed at himself and said it several times) was nice enough to host poor man with amnesia and so is his wife. jinchul is a man of gratitude and considering his position he’s more than happy to help around their estate for sheltering him while also borrowing language books from their library. thank god his company made him learn several languages for business reasons.

- after some time jinchul is able to read and talk in their language so living becomes slightly better. history books of this world provide more context so yes, he’s apparently in some kind of different world where magic exists. he should freak out by this point but honestly when freaking out helped in any situation. there’s whole kingdom, there’s local religion, there’s so much he actually needs to memorize. jinchul is actually glad basic accounting rules from his world work here too so with time jinchul becomes gunhee’s accountant.

- jinchul hates coffee but only after arriving here and seeing there’s no such thing as coffee, jinchul realizes he might’ve been a caffeine addict. there was a solid month where he suffered drawback from its absence and it was impossible to even get up from bed. he hates coffee still but he misses it because now all tiredness crushes down on him in one go

- weirdly enough this world does have something akin to coffee beans but no one knows what do with them. just to test out jinchul buys some (under merchant’s questionable stare) and brews them. turns out it tastes almost exactly like coffee, just less bitter and less caffeine. jinchul’s opportunistic mind started to turn gears in his head.

- through some time jinchul now owns a famous shop, only one in whole country to sells and serves coffee related stuff. he’s more than happy with his arrangement, plus he has his own independent income and more free time to visit gunhee and his wife. he also isn’t that healthy (because honestly who’s he to sell coffee at astronomical price like it was back in his world) but he earns enough for living.

- one evening right before closing his shop is visited by a man. jinchul tenses because there’s something familiar about his presence. something from back from his world. something at last moment before he fell here. even is said man is actually nice, just a little stone faced, jinchul is still on high alert. rightfully so because room feels smaller and darker and he can swear he can feel phantom of a cold hand on his neck. it’s suffocating and for the first time here jinchul actually fears for his life.

- man leaves but occasionally returns from time to time to test different coffee and sweets combinations. there’s nothing much happening but jinchul is always uncomfortable. there’s something threatening but not actively so.

- during one of such visits jinchul is absolutely baffled when this unknown man visits his shop again and gifts him rare calming herbal tea leaves and best brand of kingdom’s chocolate. in exchange he asks for best cup of coffee and best desert jinchul can offer. through observations jinchul offers man’s favorites and was right because now everything is less suffocating and stiffening and for some reason jinchul feels like he passed some sort of test. it’s also the evening jinchul finally learns man’s name - sung jinwoo.

- after that it becomes a routine. jinwoo became non hostile and more approachable (as well as being the one to approach) and jinchul uses it as a chance to have a stable source of information about this world.

- (also because I’m a weak dumbass) jinwoo actually remembering when jinchul’s birthday is (even if he mentioned it only once in passing) at night of said birthday jinwoo ungracefully (even if he wanted it to be graceful) falls through jinchul’s window waking him up. jinwoo snatches barely awake jinchul to his palace to celebrate. jinchul is grateful and but also tired and sleepy so it’s mostly a nice late dinner, a present (magically enhanced ring) and a sleepy good night kiss. jinwoo is so shook he just touches his cheek and awkwardly leaves to sleep in a guest room since jinchul fell asleep in his room. once he’s in bed realization crushes down on him. apparently the most fearsome shadow monarch is deeply in love with a destined one to supposedly murder him. jinwoo’s own plan backfired spectacularly.

- jinwoo’s plan: snatch destined one into their world before church can summon him - let him live here for some time and observe him - approach him with malicious intent to see his reaction - if attacks then murder, if not then make him attached - make destined one attached and be in good relationship to keep a close eye on him so he can strike first in case of murder intent - accidentally become the one attached and fall in love with destined one - wait what???

#solo leveling #woo jin chul #sung jin woo #local humanity’s calamity suffering form backfired plan #it will go down in their history books #church is unholy screeching because they can’t summon the destined one #jinwoo thinks he still won but he literally doesn’t understand jinchul unconsciously has him wrapped around his pinky #jinwoo will never stop hearing teasing from his mom and sis after they saw jinchul sleeping in his bed

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raviolitin · 2 months

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Ouat Theory:

So i’m rewatching Into The Deep (2x08) and I noticed something about the sleeping curse.

In 1x21, Regina states that when someone is under the sleeping curse, they’ll suffer dreams formed of their own regrets. But, does this really line up with what we see in this episode?? David goes under a sleeping curse and manages to break through into the netherworld, but that’s not where you go initially.

Here is David in his sleeping curse, very clearly not a dream let alone one detailing his regrets. It’s just a room of mirrors. This contradicts what Regina said right?? Wrong.

Because while David is up and moving this is still technically a dream, he’s not awake. It’s like lucid dreaming, he’s asleep but has full agency to do what he wants.

So, what about the regrets thing?? Well, my first conclusion was that it’s an abstract thing - a metaphor. When you’re forced to stare at yourself what else can you do but self-reflect, both literally and figuratively.

But then I came to a second conclusion, which I like much more. The sleeping curse looks different for everyone. It’s personalised.

David Nolan is a very self-loathing character. Almost every time he gets screen time it’s to lament about how many insecurities he has.

For David, his regrets look like himself. Because he regrets the man he feels like he is. When David Nolan looks in those mirrors, he sees a failure of a father, an unworthy leader, a dishonourable son, so many things that he feels he isn’t good enough at. I can’t imagine looking in a mirror would be a worthy enough punishment for most people, but if we consider this is personalised to David it makes so much sense.

And then you can dig a layer deeper and say that James factors in here. He admits later in the season that he feels like if he was raised by George he would’ve turned out like James did, a corrupt, cruel prince. Looking at himself, the face of his estranged twin brother, it reminds him of the darkness that lays within him. It reminds him that he isn’t completely good, a fact that seems to haunt him throughout the series.

David is a character that overcompensates for his own self-hatred to the point it’s extremely damaging to himself. He throws his life away for other people so he feels worthy of their love, he believes he’s only of worth when he’s providing something for someone, a fact he learned throughout both his childhood and adulthood.

Making David stare at himself, reckon with the man he is, is the perfect punishment for someone wracked with self loathing like him.

That’s why I think the curse changes for each person. It also makes me wonder what the other characters curses would look like.

#ouat #once upon a time #david nolan #ouat rewatch #theory #maybe this is obvious #and people are reading this and laughing #but idk #ouat theory #analysis #i suppose #ouat 2x08 #into the deep

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outofangband · 26 days

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“(the people of Hador) marveled at the equity of (Aerin) whose lord lay slain and they guessed not at the horror of her life aforetime with that man"

I am once again thinking about the phrasing regarding Aerin’s situation in The Book of Lost Tales version of the Narn, specifically the phrase “the horror of her life”. It’s such an ominous phrase and all the more so because Tolkien rarely uses the word horror to describe mundane or human cruelty. Horror is reserved primarily for winged monsters, fell towers and the pits of a hell ruled by a god. I know I’ve rambled about this a dozen or so times and I am working on another long post about this version but it’s just something I wanted to highlight again because I find it so chilling and poignant

It's a detail I sometimes with had made it to the final version, certainly there is much horror in Aerin's life in the Narn though of course, the full sentence refers to her people's ignorance of her suffering, one of the primary differences between the two. In the Narn, Aerin's ordeal is acutely and cruelly known to the Hadorians as I talked about here. In BoLT,her suffering is shrouded in silence. I do believe aspects of this of course continue to the later versions.

Kind of reminds me of something else always in my mind, how the phrasing regarding Morwen’s suffering after the Nírnaeth in The Lay of The Children of Húrin seems to eventually become the phrasing for the suffering of the Hadorian people. Both lines are disturbing for different reasons.

Anyways I’ve been sick a lot so this isn’t super cohesively done but it’s something I’m always thinking about

#the silmarillion #musing and meta #Aerin #the children of húrin #BoLT #Morwen #occupation of hithlum

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billdenbrough · 1 year

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also for all my starmora posting and texting if u have had to suffer that, the thing that struck me most when leaving gotg 3 was. nebula/mantis. like. obviously starmora was always gonna murder me and it DID and also rocket being the heart of the story was gonna fuck me up and it DID but the thing that absolutely blindsided me with how much it meant to me was nebulantis, especially because of that One Scene on the flying pyramid

but every scene built up to it!! like. starlord’s “she calls me star lord when she’s mad at me” met by mantis’ grumpy little “she’s always mad at everyone”, the way mantis complains to drax about how she can’t know things if nobody tells her after nebula (and gamora, but nebula is the one that makes her mad) yells at her about the spacesuits, the “why do you criticise everything? it’s a different sound” “uh, no it isn’t. [imitates mantis] eurgh, dying, eurgh, dumbass. it’s the same sound!”

and all of that leads to that moment on the ship, when nebula shoves drax and mantis yells at her that she doesn’t have the right to push him, and nebula fires back at her about always supporting weakness. and then mantis says the thing that has haunted me since watching lmao: “fine! i don’t care! i know you have to find fault in everyone else to feel better about yourself – so find fault in me! but you don’t have the right to push him!”

and the way nebula just. stares at her. mantis saying he loves us and makes us laugh, how is that weakness? mantis saying he has sadness but he is the only of you who doesn’t hate himself. so i don’t care if he is stupid. LIKE. it just slams right into me i think bc her entire life, nebula’s value has been determined by her success. she never won against gamora, so she was tortured, pulled apart piece by piece, thanos always saying it was to help her get ‘better’. nebula who fulfils EVERY ROLE in the team—not so much emotional active support but caretaker, pilot, living weapon, ultimate defender, local robot—because that’s what she has to do to be worth keeping around. nebula, whose self-worth issues were built into her from childhood.

and here is mantis saying who cares that someone isn’t the best if they love you, if they make you laugh. who cares about strength when someone matters to you? what is strength to love? what is it?

and then, when rocket’s voice comes through the intercom and nebula stops still, swallows, says “rocket?” in that voice biting back all the emotions she doesn’t usually let herself express, and the camera pans to mantis looking at her. to mantis seeing nebula on the other side of grief, what it looks like for her to finally exhale this held breath she’s had, bc rocket was the only person she had for five years (“i’m family,” gamora says; “so is he,” nebula replies levelly), and he’s going to be okay. it’s this amazing one-two moment of two people who have been ostensibly teammates but really at odds the entire movie look at each other and really see each other, really understand what the other stands for, who they are. god!!!!

and then when drax and nebula form a little shield in front of mantis at the end when they’re all in the pit and mantis steps past them both, despite nebula’s protests. at the very end, when nebula decides to lead the city; this girl who is a weapon, laying down her arms to try give these little girls the childhood she never had. at the very end, when mantis strikes her own path—the girl who always ‘finds weakness in others and supports it’, leading her three companion beasts into the unknown universe, just to find herself.

and that last moment, when mantis says to all of them, “i love you all,” with that half beat before all, and she nods at nebula. it’s just. holy fuck. there were some real masterclasses in relationship dynamics and development in this film, but nebula & mantis were largely an undercurrent beneath the surface, but no less impactful, no less poignant for it. god. god

#nebula gotg #mantis gotg #mantis x nebula #gotg3 #gotg v3 #gotg vol 3 #mcu #i love this movie so much lmao can you tell…#i just! [punches air] fucking ! love ! dynamics !

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aamalaaa · 2 years

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Lifeline | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: bestfriends to lovers au, hurt/comfort, jk is so understanding, fluff, romance, reader is sad but it'll be ok

warnings: reader suffers from depression but doesn't know it, it gets a little heated but there's no smut

word count: 3.6k

a/n: sooo, this was supposed to be a drabble and yet.. I got a lil carried away. I hope you like this, I've wrote this from my own experience with depression, I hope you can find comfort in it, you're never alone and I love you<3

It’s been days, weeks now that you’ve been feeling like this. Nothing happened, nothing dramatic. You still go to work, still talk to your friends. On the outside, things seem as normal as they usually are. You seem okay, maybe a bit indifferent.

You’re not.

You’re not okay, you feel like not enough air gets into your lungs, you feel heavy, tired, like the weight of the world is too much to endure. You still manage to look relatively okay, you shower, put on makeup, make sure your clothes are clean and fit well together when you put an outfit together.

You haven’t washed your clothes for weeks though. You only have a few things left in your wardrobe, the rest of your clothes lay on a chair, on the floor of your bedroom, your couch and next to the shower.

You didn’t clean up your room, kitchen, bathroom or anything in your apartment really. It doesn’t look good, you can’t stand to leave the lights on because you’d have to face the mess and feel bad about it. You don’t feel like you’re doing enough, you feel incompetent and lazy.

You don’t cry though, can’t bring yourself to. Staying awake and going to work is tiring enough, you can’t muster enough energy to cry on top of that. You wish you could, maybe it would help. Fill the empty hole in your chest, make you feel something again, replace the shame and tiredness with something else. Anything not to feel like this, empty, unmoored.

You’re laying in bed when you hear it first, a soft knock. Your ears perk up at the sound but you still stay wrapped up in your duvet, even bringing it up a little above your head, trying to drown out the noise.

But the noise doesn’t stop, it’s at your front door and it gets louder and louder. Though it stays gentle, like the instigator knows you can’t handle more, loud and constant noises make you feel overwhelmed these days.

You groan loudly before throwing the duvet off your body in one swift motion, making you shiver instantly at the contact of cool air against warm skin. You need to up the heat here, or maybe put on something that isn’t tiny shorts and a tank top.

You barely have anything else in your wardrobe though, goddamn you need to wash your clothes.

You slowly trudge to the front door, hoping the visitor will get tired and go away before you get there. But he doesn’t and you have no choice, someone came up here to see you and you can’t be this ungrateful. Won’t let yourself be.

So you card your hand through your hair to try and tame it before quickly opening the door to its full extent.

The black haired man stares at you with his wide doe eyes, hand stopping mid motion in the air where the door was, a black tote bag in his other hand.

You stare back, shock clearly visible all over your face. If you didn’t expect one thing, it’s to see Jungkook at your doorstep, looking this fucking hot in black sweatspants, a black longsleeved shirt and an equally black baseball cap to match.

“Kook, what are you doing here? Did we have something planned? I forgot didn’t I- Ah shit! I’m so sorry, my mind’s a bit of a mess today..” You anxiously blurt out.

Jungkook awkwardly brushes a strand of hair beneath his ear. “No, no we didn’t have anything planned, don't worry,” He hurriedly says, noticing your nervousness. “I just-“ He pauses. “I hadn't heard from you in a few days and you didn’t respond to my texts so I decided to pay a visit..”

And if his appearance wasn’t enough to make you melt into a puddle of goo, his explanation sure is. Because how could he be this attentionate and caring?

You’ve known Jungkook for a few months, meeting him through your group of friends and you quickly grew closer, became good friends even. And you may or may not have a huge crush on him but that’s another story and you’re not about to admit it out loud, not now, not ever. If he liked you that way he would’ve told you already, you’re not about to burden him with your feelings.

But you’re fine being just friends, he’s an amazing person and you couldn’t imagine your life without him now, he’s the funniest and kindest person you’ve ever known. You can keep your emotions under check, maybe they’ll even settle down after a while.

Though you doubt it considering the way your heart beats loudly against your rib cage only from standing a few feet away from the man. Oh well.

“Oh.. that’s very kind of you,” You breathe out.

Jungkook shoots you a dazzling wide smile and you almost faint at the sight.

“Sooo, can I come in? I got a few things for you,” He lifts up the tote bag he’s been holding.

Your heart skips a beat, god he’s making it very hard for you not to completely fall in love with him.

“Umm..” You start, unsure what to say.

He can’t see your place like this, he’d probably run for the hills. “My place’s a bit of a mess and I was planning on cleaning up today-“

“I can help!” He enthusiastically cuts you off.

You stare at your feet, wiggling your toes around. “I mean you don’t have to, it’s fine really and you must have better things to do..” He can’t see your place like this.

He snorts. “I have the day off, let me help, I want to! Plus, I brought food!” He says, a hopeful smile etched upon his mesmerizing face.

Goddamn fucking Jeon Jungkook, you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking at you like that.

“I- Ok but please don’t judge, I’m just very busy,” You step out of his way, motioning for him to come in. His only reply is a nod before he slides in through the door.

He spends a moment, and only a moment to observe your apartment before heading towards the kitchen counter and dropping the bag he’s been holding.

You’re so fucking embarrassed, he’s probably gonna judge you or worse, pity you. Though he would never say it out loud, that’s not Jungkook.

“I’ve seen worse,” He gets out a few supplies from the bag and puts them on the counter.

“Please don’t lie, it’s disgusting,” You sigh, picking up a few stray clothes on the floor to throw them on the couch.

He lifts up his eyes to you, gaze locked into yours. You hold it for a few seconds before dropping your eyes to the ground, a rosy tint adorning your cheeks.

“What’s going on?” He gently asks, dropping the broccoli he was holding on the counter and stepping closer to you.

You shrug and nervously fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his gaze. You can’t do this, you’ve been really good at keeping your emotions at bay.

You can’t give up now.

But he doesn’t relent. “What’s wrong?” He’s very close to you now and you shyly peek at him before dropping your eyes to your hands again.

He softly takes both of your hands in his, stopping you from fiddling with them. And you can barely hold it in now, you have no distraction to focus on instead of the gaping hole in your heart, threatening to split your whole being in two any moment now.

“Nothing, don’t worry,” You croak.

He drops your left hand to bring his right one up to your chin, tilting your face upward slowly, forcing you to look at him.

You feel them, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, ready to spill out.

He stares at you, an incredibly concerned look in his eyes and caresses your chin softly with his thumb. “Talk to me, please.”

And that’s all it takes for you to lose it, tears flowing freely on your cheeks like cold rain on a fogged up window. You bring your hands up to your face, hiding to the best of your abilities behind them.

“I- I d-don’t know Kookie, what’s wrong with me?” You hiccup, the sound muffled by your palms.

Your heart almost splits in half when your friend takes you in his strong arms, your head laying in the crook of his neck, and strokes your hair in soothing motions. Which only makes you sob harder.

He doesn’t say a word for a long time, settles on stroking your hair and leaving a few kisses on top of your head.

You manage to calm down after a few minutes, but not before you leave a big wet spot on his shirt.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, your shirt is ruined.”

He chuckles warmly and leaves another kiss on your head before replying. “It’s just a shirt.”

You nuzzle a bit closer in his neck, taking in the calming jasmine scent. It’s grounding, like a deep rooted tree in the middle of a storm.

“Do you want to sit down and eat?” He asks, voice just shy of a whisper.

You shake your head no, pressing even closer in his embrace, not willing to let go. Which prompts a loud chuckle out of Jungkook.

“You need to eat, we can lay around and do nothing after.”

You groan, but ultimately step away. Jungkook lets out a small laugh, strokes your hair once more and sweeps his thumbs under your eyes to try and dry your wet cheeks.

You can’t help the furious blush that creeps up your neck and all the way to your cheeks, though you can hide your face behind your hair. So you do.

Jungkook coos before heading towards the kitchen counter, getting to work immediately.

You’re mostly silent, though Jungkook manages to make you laugh a few times with his antics. You eat the meal he prepared for you, not missing the way he constantly peers at you to make sure you’re eating.

You almost eat all of your plate, you’d feel entitled and ungrateful not to. But there’s so much your stomach can take, and the portion he gave you was twice what you’d usually eat.

“This was amazing, thank you,” You smile.

He smiles back, that bunny grin of his you love so much. “My pleasure.” He replies, a slight blush making its way onto his cheeks. “Got anything you want to do this evening?” He tilts his head to the side before getting up and dropping his plate next to the sink.

“I was thinking of just like, watching a movie or something. You don’t have to stay, really,” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he would stay.

Which is why your heart swells ten times its original size at his response.

“I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to leave,”

You shake your head. “No.. stay.”

He smiles bashfully before taking your plate and cleaning the dishes he had used for the meal. You get up and join him, picking a rag up and drying the clean dishes before you put them in the cupboards.

It takes a few minutes, silence reigning peacefully over the both of you, the only sounds breaking it being Jungkook whistling quietly and water splashing in the sink.

When you’re both done, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom and you take that moment to change into a large black t-shirt and slide under the covers of your bed, using the remote controller to turn on the television.

When Jungkook comes back into the lounge, he chuckles at the sight of you snuggled deep under the covers, a plushie between your arms, scrolling through netflix for a movie to watch.

You quirk your brow at him questioningly when you see him awkwardly standing next to the bed.

“What are you standing there for?” You playfully question.

He cards a hand through his hair, seemingly nervous. “Well.. where do you want me?”

You stare in shock, mouth agape before you break out into a loud cackle while Jungkook frowns in confusion. “What? What did I say?”

“Oh Kook,” Your laughter dies down progressively. “It’s nothing.” You pat the empty side of your bed, smiling amusedly at the black haired man.

He shrugs, confused but still hops on the bed, keeping a safe distance from you, much to your dismay.

“Get under the covers Kookie,” You stare him down.

“O-ok,” He tentatively slides under the covers, fully clothed.

You press play on the title you chose and scoot closer to Jungkook, feeling him stiffen at the proximity. “What’s wrong?” You question, feeling shy all of a sudden. It’s not your first time cuddling with him, so why is he being weird about it?

He exhales slowly before responding. “I just-“ He stops himself, rubbing at his eyes anxiously. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.. I know you’re feeling vulnerable and sad right now, I don’t want to take advantage of that.” He almost whispers the last part, while you can only look at him curiously, not quite understanding what he means.

“We cuddled before, what’s different?” You question, straightening up.

He shoots you an indecipherable look before scooting closer to you. “Nothing, come on over.”

You giggle and drape your arm around his stomach, your head resting on his chest. The soft rhythm of his heart puts you at ease almost instantly.

You both watch the movie in silence, Jungkook occasionally stroking your hair, making you shiver each and every time.

After a while he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” He breathes out against your hair.

You sigh in resignation. Of course he’d want to know, and it’s understandable. You did have a full on breakdown in his arms, after all. You just don’t know what to say, don’t know what’s wrong. You just know something is.

“I’ve been feeling kinda.. off, I guess?” You start, voice uneven. Another gentle stroke of your hair. “Like I have no energy, I don’t want to go out or do anything, I can’t clean up or do anything except go to work..” You feel him shifting his head a bit, probably looking at you.

You don’t meet his gaze and continue. “It’s silly really, don’t worry too much.”

He sighs and tilts your chin up with his free hand. You slowly lift your eyes, meeting his own. He seems conflicted and hurt. You don’t understand.

“How could you say that?” He observes you carefully. “I care about you, of course I’m gonna be worried. And it’s not silly, it’s important. I want you to be happy, so happy. You deserve it, you deserve everything good. How can you not see that?” He cradles the side of your face with his hand, you blush profusely, your heart beat going absolutely frantic. What the hell is going on?

“I- I’m sorry..” You don’t know what to say, apologizing seems like the right thing to do, seeing the pained look on his face.

His hold on your face gets stronger as his eyes widen. “Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, except thinking so poorly of yourself.” He exhales. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad about it, I’m sorry.” He strokes your cheek tenderly.

You can’t stop staring in his big eyes, like under a spell of some sort. It’s just hard not looking into them when they seem to hold the whole galaxy.

You open your mouth to speak, but close it soon after. He sends you a questioning look.

It takes you a few seconds to reply. “I don’t know what to say..” You murmur.

“You don't have to know what to say, we’ll figure it out together,” He gently replies, shooting you a soft smile in the process.

You almost cry again as his words register in your head. You inhale shakily. “Why-“ You gulp. “Why would you do that for me?”

He brings his head down, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. “Why do you think?” He whispers, a peachy tint appearing on his cheeks.

You frown in confusion, using your hand to stop his movements. “Because you’re a good friend? Why are you being so cryptic?” You ask, completely lost

Jungkook chuckles fondly before looking back into your eyes. “I’m really gonna have to spell it out uh,” He cradles the side of your face once more before timidly smiling at you.

“I guess so?” You unknowingly snuggle closer into his hand.

“Will you let me show you?” He strokes your hair with his long fingers, spurring on a shiver out of you.

You send him a puzzled look. You’re so fucking lost. “Um, I guess yeah?”

He looks at your lips before gazing into your eyes again, then stares at your lips once more.

And your heart might leap out of your chest because then, he gets a little closer, his face a few inches away from yours. His breath fanning over your cheeks makes you shiver.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, so close you can almost feel the vibration of his voice onto your skin.

“Can you what-“ You squeeze his hand on instinct, the one you were still holding.

“Kiss you,” He replies cockily, raising a brow.

“Uh, what-“ What’s going on, and why are you so socially inept. “Why would you-“ You loudly gulp, not finishing your sentence.

He nervously chuckles. “Because I-“ His voice cracks, and he tries to move further away from you. You scream internally. “It’s ok if you don’t want to. God I’m sorry I didn’t-“

You cut him off by tugging on his arm and crashing your lips onto his before even realizing what you’re doing. The angle is awkward and your lips collide almost painfully. You don’t care though, can’t bring yourself to.

At first, you both stay there, lips pressed against the other’s, unmoving, surprised by the sudden closeness. But soon enough, Jungkook kisses you back, sighing happily while his soft lips caress yours. You start moving along with him almost immediately, it’s almost like a dance, really.

You feel him shift as he adjusts your position, laying you down backwards and hovering over you, tilting your head back a few inches to deepen the kiss.

Your brain is foggy, you can’t even think or do anything but kiss back hungrily. Like his lips are a lifeline and you’re lost at sea. Latching onto him with unrivaled passion, your hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck pleadingly, soft whimpers escaping your throat only to be swallowed by the man holding you together like glue.

You fist the front of his shirt so forcefully your knuckles turn white while Jungkook nibbles at your bottom lip. You can feel him smirking against your mouth when you let out a loud whimper. He uses that moment to slide his tongue against yours, groaning in the process, lapping at your mouth like a dehydrated man.

And if this is a dance, then Jungkook is a master dancer. And the avid apprentice you are, you’re willing to learn every step, over and over again until you know them by heart.

You slide your hand under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his bare skin and defined abs you thought about more often than you’d be willing to admit. You notice him shivering at the contact of your hand on his stomach and that only serves to spur you on even further, up his ribs and chest.

It goes on like this for a long time, parting for oxygen from time to time, only to come together again. Jungkook and you battling for the lead, though you always end up happily losing the battle. And after a while it gets softer, gentle caresses and long, languid strokes of tongues intertwining together in complete harmony.

Jungkook slides his thumb above your eyebrow, leaning away for just a moment before leaving a quick peck on your lips. When he lets go of your lips, you try to chase his own needily, only to hear a gruff, quiet laugh from the man you just spent the better half of an hour kissing.

You open your eyes and pout at him, which is apparently really funny because he laughs even harder.

Your pout deepens and you try to push him off with all the strength you can muster, which is admittedly not a lot.

He coos at you before leaving yet another soft kiss on your lips, making you sigh happily.

“I guess you wanted to,” He confidently comments, a small smirk lifting the side of his red swollen lips.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Great guess, Sherlock.”

Jungkook settles down next to you, tugging you closer to him as he does. You wrap your arm around him and lay on his chest, just like you did earlier. Except now it feels more intimate and the butterflies in your stomach roam freely around your body.

You don’t even notice you’re dozing off until a strong hand gently shakes your shoulder, you hum in response.

“Do you want me to go?” You hear a scratchy voice murmur in your ear.

You frown and shake your head. “Nuh-uh, stay, please..” You’re barely able to get the words out in your sleepy state.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” He responds, snuggling even closer to you. You suspire contentedly.

As you slowly slip into unconsciousness you ask one last question.

“Are you gonna be here when I wake up?” You slur.

You barely register a soft peck being laid upon your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

a/n: this is the link for the general taglist for my writings<3 click here!

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sh0esuke · 3 months

Text

" Turn Back " — ENGLISH VERSION.

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 : Solas

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 : ❝ Lavellan sometimes came awake from dreams in which her lover watched her sadly from across an endless distance. If they were more than simple dreams she could not say, for every time she reached for him, he vanished into nothing. Still she searched, and dreamed, and waited, for a way to change the Dread Wolf's heart. ❞

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 : none.

ENG : PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORKS. If you want to translate it, ask me first then we can talk about it. If you want to find me on Wattpad, my account is in my bio, this is the ONLY ONE i have.

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 𝟑,𝟕𝟎𝟎.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are heavily appreciated. All types of support are ! Thank you !! <3

A/N : English isn't my first language so I apologise if you find any incoherence/mistake in this work. I still hope you can enjoy it ! I absolutely adore Solas so of course I had to write something about him. It's been a pleasure !!

Dorian’s words come back into my mind as the softness of my silk sheets caress my skin. Its coldness makes me shiver, a sigh escapes my lips. Like a dagger slicing through my belly and lacerating my guts, they mutilate me, break me, and hurt my heart. I hear his voice; it resonates deeply within me. Every syllable is articulated with caution. He’s aware that it doesn’t matter how he will approach this subject; it will bring me sorrow, if nothing more.

« My dear friend, you seem quite exhausted lately. Have you been sleeping well ? »

I sob.

As I open my eyes, drifting off into a deep sleep, I know I don’t need to panic. I know where I am.

Which only makes my suffering worse.

Only a pinch of hope manages to get into the mix. Bitterly salty, it makes me hiccup. I don’t know what to do. I went through worse in battle, lost worse for much less; there is, nonetheless, wounds that never heal. Others that keep hurting you years after they’ve healed. I’m not laying on my bed anymore, and the temperature has dropped. My chest feels sour, my breath is short. By the time I've reviewed this place of torture, I'm spinning around, and tears are blurring my vision. It hurts. I’d give anything to be somewhere else, on the battlefield, fighting enemies from the past. I try to convince myself.

Anywhere but here.

This place is familiar.

Properly speaking, I never set a foot in this forest. I have no idea where to find it. Ferelden ? Orlais ? Storm Coast ? Or even maybe Crestwood ? I must admit I searched its location endlessly, looking for a way to end this madness, it often drove me to the point of insanity. Perhaps this place holds a purpose, a meaning, an escape from these woods which have been torturing me for so long in my dreams. I was, however, never able to find it.

I needed time to understand. I am aware of what lies ahead: I am doomed. Forced to come back in this place, fall into the same trap, again and again until I go back to hell. A word where I do not belong anymore.

Not without him.

The grass I stand on is wild, wet. Thin and beautiful. It soaks my pajama. Drops of water manage to find their way through the fabric and touch my skin. I shiver. I am glad to be wearing shoes at the moment. Unfortunately for me, I am unable to escape this greenery. It is all around me, in the form of bushes, a dense forest whose exit seems distant, if not non-existent, mixed with the humidity in the air. Even the smell finds its way into my lungs. I breathe it in. Its perfume is light, quite pleasant. The coldness in the air, a return to nature, the wilderness that is surrounding me, left alone by the hand of mankind. I could almost enjoy it.

The trees are numerous. They are not tall, nor thicks, this forest isn’t unusual. It appears to be the type of forest one would see everywhere around the world, especially close to civilization. Nevertheless, I don’t see it ending. My intuition can’t help me, I can’t make a choice : run away to the front or the back. It’s as if my mind had been softened, my spirit calmed. I do not feel the urge to flee, I think of it, but it is rather an idea, which goes away quite fast because it seems ridiculous. I can’t see it as an option, more like an absurdity. An insult. I know where I belong, and it is here.

I know there is no escape.

Yet I am still in pain, I suffer.

The belongings of my heart are in pieces. My only presence here manages to worsen its condition, I can’t do nothing but hold onto my chest, whimper and wish to call for help.

All the trees look the same, the sky is navy blue, illuminated by the lunar rays of divine silver, the forest holds a rendering mysterious. It scares me. Darkness has taken over this place. I do not know what lies behind. I am left in the dark in an empty circle which is only made of grass. I am on my own.

And I know what is waiting for me.

My hands clutch my shirt, I breathe heavily, look around me frantically. My vision becomes blurry. Everything is moving, becomes fuzzy. A hole is being dug in my stomach. A few buttons pop, they fall at my feet only to disappear in the grass.

I am at loss for words.

This dream hunts me, like a merciless beast. It takes over me every night, brings me to this cursed place and eats the remains of my soul. It feasts upon my corpse, what is left of me. The more I come here, the more I become broken. I am a shadow of my former self. Nothing but flesh and decay.

Yet I wouldn't want to leave for anything in the world. Despite my fear and wanting to leave for a safer place in the heat of battle, I do not wish to run away. I know it. I am confused. My heart screams something while my soul screams the opposite, and amidst these cruel exchanges, the truth has lurked there and is whispering in the hollow of my ear what I really want. It knows me. A glimmer of hope, that's what she is, she knows everything about me, aware that through my pain and resentment, I agree to stay here.

I wouldn't run away from him for the world.

Not him, not my Solas.

As I stop looking around, lower my hands to my sides, the inspiration that swells in my chest clears my foggy mind. It offers me a couple of seconds, allowing me to calm myself. My chest is heavy, and my eyes are watery. Tears threaten to roll down my cheeks at any moment now. Despite it all, I feel a bit stronger. I know what is waiting for me.

I turn around, knowing he’s here.

The Dread Wolf.

Leaning against the trunk of a tree, he gazes at me with folded arms. He is right there. His gaze is piercing, splitting my skull into two heavy pieces. It breaks my heart.

This cruel God who introduced me to the purest, most devastating feeling in this world. This elf with whom I've shared so much. This man that I love. He's right there.

He's the reason I am here.

The moment our eyes met; I froze. His image is enough to take the air out of my lungs, like a violent palm strike, leaving me breathless.

Not even my hands are moving. It is hard to tell if I am even blinking.

Previously, he had told me of his desire to end our love affair. He had told me of his devastating plan and persuaded me that I no longer had my place by his side ⸺and this, despite my pleas to accompany him, that our history was only the result of his pure selfishness. According to him, he had finally found the strength to put an end to it. He destroyed me, reduced what little hope I had left at the time to nothing, then cured me of my mark, and finally: left me. He abandoned me. After all those kisses we had exchanged, full of unspoken promises about the future, those nights we had shared, loving each other unconditionally, exploring each other, offering each other pleasure and joy.

It is hard to believe.

He is right there, few meters between us showing the ditch separating us.

I hate it.

Solas doesn’t say a word. He is wearing the same clothing as the day I found him a few months ago, giving him this Godly look. He appears more alike to the aristocrats from Orlais than anything else, which, inevitably, pains me. I dare to wonder if I ever knew him. I wonder if he is still the man I fell in love with.

He seems healthy.

His figure is slender, and he's put on muscle. He offers me a wonderful view from where I stand. I admire him from afar and, unable to help myself, compare him to the many murals I have seen of him, of Fen’Harel. All those paintings showing him in a position of power, guiding or punishing us, mortals. This time, the comparison doesn't seem preposterous; I can almost believe it.

If only I did...

His cheeks are as I remember them; hollowed, Solas looks more imposing. He looks straight from a fairy tale ⸺fearless knight, ironic, knowing that I’ve only heard of him from these stories. Far-fetched tales, and confusing to say the least, telling his demonic cruelty. However, having him in front of me, it makes me melt. He is back on his feet, as beautiful as ever. I can’t feel my body, my whole being is focused on him. I observe him to ink his image into my mind. With this, I make him mine. Until the next time we meet, I will keep this image, as soon as I’ll think of him I'll remember it. It will keep me sane. Then, it will break me.

The mere thought of him already tears me apart.

His eyes are veiled in sorrow.

Solas tries to appear nonchalant, yet i see the tears in his eyes. A curtain of bitterness keeps me from understanding what he truly wants. Although, even when we were still together, I'd never really been able to decipher him.

He was, is and will remain an enigma.

It is the same everytime he brings me here. Everytime I dream of him. He keeps this same divine appearance, the same expression shredded by pain and suffering.

I know I can’t get closer, at the moment, I am aware of this and accept my fate. My only concern is him.

Solas looks at me as if i was nothing but a regret.

He knows he can’t get closer.

So many times, has he already succumbed, I am nothing if his greatest sin. It makes me wonder what he regrets so much.

Does he regret falling for me, giving in ? Or does he regret leaving and not taking me with him ? I know the answer. His silence is however not quite comforting. Between the two of us, he has to suffer the most. I can’t imagine the dilemmas he’s staring at, right now. Especially if this led him into my dreams.

Does he seek comfort from me ?

I dream so much of bringing some to him... Even just for a few minutes.

Thats is all I ask.

Taking his face in my hands, kissing him like all those previous times he'd given himself over to temptation, shattering every last one of his doubts. To feel the softness of his skin against mine, to softly kiss his lips, then move up his cheek to his temple, finally his forehead. Embracing him, kissing him and cherishing him until the world is reduced to nothing but a pile of ashes.

He doesn’t know how much I love him.

Or maybe he does, maybe he’s afraid the unconditional love I feel for him will bring nothing but despair. Knowing his already lost me.

Taken.

I have been taken.

All that remains are broken pieces.

He who loved me so much, he who turned away from his goals long enough to soften me up, to grab hold of my heart so that I could never get my hands on it. To this day, I can only feel what’s left of it, which is why the pain that lingers deeply wound me. Knowing that it is with Solas is enough to reassure me, although the pain only gets worse. He is a shadow of his former self. He who, even today, clings to the meager moments we spent together in my dreams, this silent place, the freshness, nature still untouched, impenetrable. He who desperately wants to see me again.

He must think it is the last time.

Just like the others.

That is the reason as to why Solas is looking at me with such sorrow. His bruised expression, his eyebrows frowned.

Solas is convinced we won’t see each other again. He has to move on. Our story is done, a mere memory from the past I suppose. To him, at least. But I know he will come back. I know that, just like those previous times, he will soon accompany me in my dream and will drink in my image again. He will contemplate me just as he’s contemplating me at the moment, engraving the features of my face in his mind, and try to make do with them before it becomes unbearable, and he goes off to find me again.

I am unable to blame him.

We are the same.

Mutually we drink in each other. Greedily, eager for the meager crumbs that Solas allows himself to offer, we soak up the other's image. It suits us for the moment, even if it's never really enough.

Not after falling in love.

We are identical ; frozen in time. It is impossible for us to move an inch, as if this dream was as fragile as a porcelain doll. Only one movement and it will shatter. Solas is still leaning against the trunk of the tree, he hasn’t stopped looking at me; and I know it well, I only need to look at him in the eyes to understand what he feels. I do not pretend to know him. I do not pretend to predict his next move. However, I can recognize the troubled gaze of the man that I love. I can recognize watery eyes when I see them, as they beg for forgiveness. I love him so I understand. I feel his pain.

The sorrow engraved on his face pains me. It is a heavy weight on my chest.

Weakens my stomach.

An unpleasant feeling for an equally bitter dream.

Solas does not see me as his lover anymore. I am no longer the one with whom he saw the wonders of this world, I am no longer the one who made him laugh, the one who discovered him, the one who loved him and the one he loved.

I am a memory.

Frozen in place like a statue, a fragment of the past. A mistake. This is how he must see me. I am not meant to move.

An image of the past.

If I move, he will leave.

Just like the previous times, where I had tried to reach him ⸺ a desperate act guided by my unconditional love for him, I will only have to blink, and he will be gone. My gesture would have made him go away.

I suppose he can’t see me move; he is not ready for it. Not yet, not ever. My mere image is enough to sadden him, I can only imagine what my voice or my hand touching him might do.

I would like for him to explain to me where we are, I would like to understand. I know he thinks that I can’t. But I do not care. These majestic woods, surprisingly dense, and this starry sky above us, giving his soft pupils a sparkling glow. I would give anything for him to talk to me. To have him explain.

But this is what love is about.

To love is to turn back. To reach out.

And it is exactly what I do. In.

I do not care, in this moment, if I scare him away. I convinced myself that if I don't do anything, my feelings were not real to begin with, it would all have been a lie that would have lulled myself into for some sinister purpose. If I don't go after Solas now, then what is my love for him really worth ? How can I find the strength not to approach him while he is facing me ?

To love is to sin.

To love is to give in to temptation regardless of the outcome, to fall into a ditch with the risk of sprawling miserably, all the while hoping to be caught up, cajoled. I turned around because I love him. I reach out to him because I love him. And I always will.

I will always turn back.

It is as simple as that.

I love him enough to risk losing him, I love him enough to feel him running away from me.

Just as he succumbs to temptation and haunts my dreams. He loves me enough to sin again.

Such is our tragedy.

Hell, and heaven.

Joy, and despair.

We keep finding each other, only to part again. Its reasoning is beyond me. And I must say I do not care, not when I know it is my only chance to see him again.

So, my hand is outstretched, I am reaching out for him, determined to grab hold of him before he leaves me once again. I refuse to let him slip through my fingers. I'm hurrying. If I am fast enough... This time I hope he'll stay, bathe me in his comforting embrace and never hurt me again. I hope he'll pick me up. Maybe he'll even tear me away from this vile existence where I must make do with the mere memory of his image etched in my mind to ease my pain. I reach out because to love is to want. I reach out because despite the despair he causes me, nothing will change the way I feel about him. The grass at my feet hits my pajama bottoms. The air whips my face.

The moonlight caresses my skin.

It feels nice.

It is too good to be true.

Where are we ?

I feel myself being pulled back, but I'm moving forward.

Solas's eyes widen.

I'm going to find him, my love.

My legs feel heavy. Suddenly, I feel as if I am thousands of feet in the air. My breathing stops, I am being pulled back. A storm rages, but it doesn't exist. An army of arms holds me back, but I hold on. The woods are calm, undisturbed by our presence, and yet I am shaken. An immense weight weighs on my shoulders.

I know I won’t make it.

Solas's silhouette is blurring, it begins to disappear, yet I've only taken three steps. Do they really count when I'm about to stumble ? My mind goes blank. There he goes. He is slipping through my fingers as naturally as a current of water, as fatally as the destiny he is trying to impose on us despite my reluctance. And I am unable to stop him. Yet again... He leaves me behind.

My hands feel sore. I need to scream.

Solas is running away from me.

But I love him. So, I reach out, further this time.

Enough to see him go and continue to tear me apart a little more, I love him. He takes my heart with him. I can feel it throbbing in the palm of his hand, Solas won't let go. He has held on to it all the way. I can feel him clinging to it.

When he leaves, I feel vacant once more. My chest has been emptied. And when I finally reach the tree, Solas is no longer here with me.

I am alone.

It happened again, he left me.

The sky is falling, the world is crumbling all around me as my spirit starts to shake. The woods are empty, and I am all that remains. As well as the darkness emanating from the depths of the forest. It is about to devour me.

In a few seconds, it will banish me.

I do not even bother looking for him. Solas could be somewhere else, behind me or a few miles away, waiting for me, hoping I'll give him another chance to catch up. It is plausible. These are possibilities whose veracity I've tested many times before. Only, now I know he is gone. He is really gone, and he is not coming back. I do not hold it against him.

Rather, I thank him.

His weakness offers us respite, and as much as it shocks and breaks me, it comforts me in the idea that he remains the one I loved. That divine sinner whose goodness is matched only by his regret and sorrow. My benefactor.

My tormentor.

I do not care if he leaves, not when I know he will come back to me. I know he will. Because Solas loves me. He will visit me again, because it is our destiny : the tragedy that is our history. An insurmountable sorrow.

It is a vast wound, left wide open as a token of his kindness, which he tries to heal through his visits when midnight approaches and he requires my presence. That is how he loves me, as best as he can. Deep down, I have always known this. Or rather : I consented to it. I have accepted this burden from the moment our eyes met, from the moment he took my hand to close the gap. Sometimes, I can even feel it. His presence on my body, the caress of his kisses, the fiery breath between his lips. I remember it all.

Tormented soul by his divine duty.

I would not trade this reality for the world. I will love him no matter what. I won't stop trying to reach him, I won't stop looking for ways out so that we can have our second chance.

No, I would not trade it for anything else.

Not even as an immense pain lacerates my chest. Not even as he runs away from me and leaves me to mourn him.

Not even as my soul is being torn apart.

Because this is what love is about. And I love him. Endlessly.

#solas x reader #solas x female lavellan #solas dai #solas x inquisitor #solas dragon age #solasmance #fen'harel #dragon age inquisition

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