#this got very long. but i hope i answered your question?
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wandixx · 2 days ago
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Danny the Young Justice member
“Hey, like, hypothetically, do you think Justice League could pay me if I became hero full time?”
It shaped out to be pretty long and boring stake-out, with rest of Team scattered around but connected with Mindlink, so it seemed like best moment to ask. It wasn’t something Danny wanted to do, but it shaped out to be his only chance to get any future. He cried over it enough times already, so there was even a chance he won’t breakdown trying to discuss it out in the semi-public. He wanted to keep it as calm and rational as he could and hey, if something started to get too emotional, he could say he saw some suspicious movement and fly off to fight someone. Really, it was perfect situation.
“How hypothetical is this question?” Robin asked after a beat of silence. It was quiet and careful, like he was afraid to set him off if he said something wrong or he did it wrong way. It made skin on his back crawl. Danny knew he was a bit more volatile lately, but he really hoped special treatment would stop soon.
“Hypothetical”
“Okay, let’s say we don’t know it’s a lie”
“Unnecessary” Artemis coughed.
“C’mon it kinda was–”
“Can someone just answer my fucking question?”
“I don’t think so. Batman is the one doing most of the funding, and he is really stubborn about school and future. He wants us all to have chance at normal life outside of this hero villain business with regular job and stuff”
That didn’t bode well, but Danny hadn’t got this far by losing hope whenever first obstacle occurred.
“But I could be ready whenever disaster strikes or some villain attacks or really whenever it’s necessary and I wouldn’t need to escape any civilian stuff,” he may have gotten a bit desperate along this little rant, but he just pushed through “It always takes precious minutes and–”
“It doesn’t really seem to be hypothetical anymore,” Wally interrupted and he was lucky to be on different roof, because Danny, he sworn to ancients, would strangle him if redhead was any closer.
He was very adamant about not thinking about how his last ideas of surviving to adulthood started crumbling. He promised himself to not have breakdown in the open.
He wasn’t going to.
It was fine.
He would figure something out. He always did.
“Danny?”
“It’s fine Meg, don’t worry”
“Can we ask what brought this hypothetical on your mind? You’ve always were the most assured that you’ll stop being hero at some point and move on”
Bless Kaldur to always know when to ask best-worst question. Danny wasn’t going to cry, so he wasn’t going to answer.
“We can’t help you if we don’t what’s wrong,” M’gann said softly, like she was just trying to remind him.
Something small hit his lap. A tear. When did it get here?
“It’s fine. It’s just a stupid thought”
“Okay. Tell us when you’re ready”
“Something suspicious is going on, I think it’s what we’re looking for,” Everyone needed Conner on their squad to get conversation back on not emotional track.
As it turned out it was indeed what they were looking for, and soon Danny got to express all of his pent up aggression in only a bit misplaced way.
“That was harsh”
“Shut up, this one doesn’t have pain receptors”
“Phantom has a bad day, huh?”
“You’re about to have worse,” he growled and punched guy until he stopped grinning.
It was quick work after that.
“Danny?”
Only bad side of Mindlink was that he couldn’t act like he was losing connection. It would be useful right now.
“Danny?”
“Not now”
“In the Bioship then. Not a minute later, am I clear?”
“Crystal”
He started calculating a way to get out before. He used to do it all the time, at the beginning. It was easier when Team didn’t know about his human side and they were holding each other at the arms length, but still. He could–
Conner landed right behind him and put hand on his shoulder. It wasn’t restrain, it wasn’t assuring. It was just there.
Here came his plans of escape.
“So–” Artemis started as soon as the door of Ship had closed “– what the fuck is wrong with you lately?”
“We all know it’s not nothing”
“I’m being overdramatic”
“About what?”
Danny just slumped forward and his face in hands.
“Danny”
“I have to retake year. I’m not even half way through highschool and I’m already failing and I- I just can’t do better. It’s not like I don’t have time to study, and I do try sometimes, but just as often I’m just being dumb and messing around, and I knew I failed some other tests, but last one? Last one I was sure I’ve got it, I was trying, I was trying so hard and I still fucked it up and if I can’t make it even when- even when I’m trying my best, then what is the point?”
He took a moment to breathe, to rub tearing eyes. He still wasn’t going to cry.
“I’m already kinda good at this hero thing, so I could just keep it up. I don’t think I’ll make it to the end of high school, so no good job for me, but maybe I could. I could have something, you know. Something useful. Something good. Maybe I can have some life after all”
Someone rubbed his back but he didn’t raise his head to see who.
“I didn’t want to let accident destroy any more of my life than it did, but I don’t think I can”
“Well, impossible sounds right about the task for us. We’ve got you”
Well fuck. That’s about that in not crying department.
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Go, Touch Some Grass-Kokonoe Mercury X Reader
I think this is the single longest thing I have written for this blog. I might also make a part two to this later but I doubt I will.
Anywho, sorry for the inactivity as of late. I just haven't really had the energy to write and because of that I've probably gotten very rusty so this is more than likely not up to my usual standards. My apologies for that.
With all of that aside, I hope you enjoy!
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Kokonoe Mercury was absolutely furious.
“Where’s Tager?” Kokonoe growled out as she stomped down the halls, glaring holes through any unfortunate researcher who crossed her path.
“Miss Litchi sent him on a wild goose chase to ensure you didn’t use him to bust into your office.” you responded as you walked behind the irate woman.
Kokonoe attempted to further clench her hands into fists but, due to the bone crushing amount of force she had already used when she learned of what Litchi had done, it was an exercise in futility.
Kokonoe wheeled around the corner and nearly barreled over some poor janitor in the process.
“Sorry about that.” was all you had time to say to the janitor before you had to leave him and break into a jog to catch up with Kokonoe who was nearing her target.
Kokonoe practically bust the door down as she stormed into Litchi’s office.
“Ah! What brings you her-” Litchi began with a smile before she was interrupted by the furious pink haired woman before her.
“Save it! Why the hell can’t I get into my office! Or the labs! Or the storage closets!” Kokonoe snapped at Litchi.
“Oh my! I have no idea! What makes you think I would have any idea what would cause that?” Litchi responded with a voice dripping with false shock and a smirk on her face as she placed her head in her hand.
Kokonoe promptly reached into her lab coat and pulled out a piece of paper that she then slammed onto the table.
The piece of paper read “Go, Touch Some Grass!” with a drawing of Litchi’s winking face in chibi form.
You had to bite your tongue to keep yourself from saying “I don’t think Miss Kokonoe knows what grass is, seeing as she never leaves the lab.”
“Hmm… This is a very flattering drawing of me, don’t you think?” Litchi asked, causing Kokonoe to let out a scream of primal rage and launch herself at the woman.
Or, she tried to at least, she only got halfway before you grabbed her by the back of her collar.
“Let me go dammit! Let me at her! I’ll show her who needs to go touch grass!” Kokonoe hissed as she thrashed and writhed in mid air.
She was concerningly light, barely feeling like she weighed more than one of the boxes of microscopes that needed to be ordered every time an explosion occurred in the lab.
“Before you do that, can you tell me this, how long has it been since you ate a meal?” Litchi asked as Kokonoe continued to thrash around.
“I had-” Kokonoe began before being cut off.
“Meal replacement bars and shakes don’t count. Neither does candy.” Litchi clarified, making Kokonoe go still and quiet as she racked her brain for the answer to Litchi’s question.
“It was… the 15th!” Kokonoe declared, seeming proud of herself.
Litchi proceed to point at the calendar, showing that the current date was the 7th.
Kokonoe scowled in response to this and crossed her arms in irritation.
“What do you want out of me?” Kokonoe grumbled.
“I want you to go to your apartment, and grow something from one of these seeds.” Litchi declared while opening one of her drawers before tossing a pack of mixed seeds onto the table.
Kokonoe looked at the seeds for a solid minute before saying “I could do that in thirty minutes in the lab.”
“I know you could, but, until you learn how to take better care of yourself, you won’t be doing anything in the lab.” Litchi declared.
Kokonoe’s face began to turn red from rage before she took in a deep breath that she held in before letting out.
“How long will all of this take?” Kokonoe grumbled.
“In all honesty? I don’t expect you to be back for about two months.” Litchi declared, making Kokonoe gasp before yelling.
“ARE YOU CRAZY!? TWO MONTHS!?”
“You could prove me wrong, but as I can say with certainty, you and nature do not get along.” Litchi responded.
Kokonoe ground her teeth together, trying to concoct a way out of this predicament.
Unfortunately, Kokonoe was pushed onto the back foot by Litchi Faye Ling.
That means no amount of death stares or threats will move her opponent.
And people had the audacity to call Kokonoe stubborn.
Kokonoe went limp, accepting defeat.
“Fine. But I’m taking your best assistant as collateral!” Kokonoe declared, hoping that this would, somehow, force Litchi into re-considering her demands.
“We have a deal!” Litchi declared before turning her attention to you and spoke.
“You can put her down now. Be sure to pack up everything you need before leaving!”
You promptly lowered Kokonoe onto the ground and began to walk out the door before being stopped by Kokonoe.
“Hey! I said your best assistant! Not MY best assistant!” the pink hair woman exclaimed.
“That is my assistant. I let you borrow them for an extra set of eyes during an experiment while Tager was off on errands and you never gave them back.” Litchi explained with a smile that held a small amount of venom.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
You and Kokonoe sat next to one another as the tram followed its course down to the residential area.
The two of you stuck out like sore thumbs with the pure white lab coats the two of you wore, the scowl on Kokonoe’s face, and your relatively calm expression.
You had long since gotten accustomed to the pink haired scientist and her… ornery moods.
In fact, due to your constant exposure to her, you had the nebulous honor of being one of the few who were unaffected by her temper when it boiled over.
Speaking of the devil herself, you turned your attention to the woman as she reached into the sleeve of her coat and pulled out a piece of her iconic silvervine candy.
“I’ve got a question for ya.” the woman grumbled.
“I will attempt to answer it to the best of my abilities.” you replied.
Kokonoe grunted before twisting her head to the side with the back of her hand, causing a series of cracks to enter your ears.
“If you’re one of Litchi’s assistants, why’d you stick around to work with me?” Kokonoe asked with a suspicious tone to her voice.
“Curiosity. You have quite the reputation as a slave driving monster around the water cooler.” was all you said in response.
This forced a wheezing cackle from Kokonoe’s chest.
“You aren’t the type to mince words are you? Remind me to take you off of Litchi’s hands when we get back!” Kokonoe exclaimed as she continued her cackling.
“I will keep that in mind.” you declared as you waited for Kokone to regain her composure.
Kokonoe continued to laugh for a few more moments before claming down.
“So, did the stories do me justice?” Kokonoe asked with a smirk.
You were quiet for a moment before responding.
“You have high but, for the most part, not unreasonable expectations of those that work under you. There is no inherent problem with that as it serves as a point to strive for and to exceed. However, for many the bar set is too high. That is my assessment. So, in my opinion, no, the stories are not entirely accurate.”
“Well, can’t say I was expecting a response like that. I was asking for your opinion, not a report on an experiment.” Kokonoe declared as she put her head in the palm of her hand.
“To be fair Miss Kokonoe, I am still on the clock. Technically.” was all you said in defense to your position.
The rest of the ride in the tram was spent in a relative, semi-comfortable, silence.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
By the time Kokonoe remembered where her apartment was, night had fallen.
Despite this, you continued to carry both your and Kokonoe’s suitcases as the two of you walked up the stairs and Kokonoe mumbled to herself about keys as she struggled to recall which one of the many on her key ring was the one for her apartment.
Soon, the two of you reached the apartment that belonged to Kokonoe, though it took a while for the door to be opened due to Kokonoe being forced to play trial and error with her myriad of keys.
As soon as the door was pushed open, a robotic voice greeted the two of you.
“Good. Evening. Miss. Kokonoe. Welcome. Home. You. Have. Been. Gone. For. Ninety. Days. Fifteen. Hours. And. Thirty. Minutes. Is. There. Anything. You. Require?” a small robot roughly the height and width of a garbage can with a duster in one hand and a vacuum in the other asked as it stood at attention in the entryway.
“No. Don’t worry about the guest either. They're with me.”
The robot promptly did a small bow before turning in place and walking off.
You were then led into the living room which, in all honesty, looked as if it was ready to be shown off and sold to the next potential buyer by a real estate agent.
In other words, it looked clean, clinical, and completely uninhabited.
“Welcome to my home away from home.” Kokonoe declared as she grabbed her suitcase from you, walked down the hall, and into a room, before slamming the door behind her and leaving you standing alone.
You clicked your tongue before muttering to yourself.
“This design of this place is very… human.”
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kokonoe did not have any clocks in her apartment.
Mostly because if she was at her apartment, that meant one of two things.
The lab had exploded and was in the process of being fixed. She was practically on her deathbed from sickness.
As such, she fully expected to not wake up until her body declared she needed to.
To be fair, that expectation was filled, just not in the way she thought it would be when the smell of freshly cooked food entered her nose and roused her from her sleep.
“Ugh… What the hell is that smell?” Kokonoe grumbled as she rolled over and towards the window to gauge the time based off of the sun.
Based on the light entering her room, it was around ten-ish.
Kokonoe let out a sigh as she threw the covers off of her and trudged towards her door, kicking her discarded lab coat, and other articles of clothing to the side in the process.
Kokonoe yawned as she reached for the door’s handle before pulling it open.
This revealed you, your hand raised to knock on the door.
“Ah. I’ve made lu-” you began to say before cutting yourself off as you went red in the face.
You proceeded to grab the handle opposite from the one Kokonoe was holding and slammed the door shut, leaving the pink haired scientist deeply confused.
It took a few seconds for the still groggy and half asleep Kokonoe to remember that, before she went to sleep, she removed all of her clothes.
“Oh right. Most people care that other people wear clothes.” Kokonoe said to herself aloud before scratching the side of her head and turning on her heel to find something to cover herself with.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kokonoe walked into the kitchen, wearing a t-shirt, a pair of sweatpants, and a pair of slippers with a fresh lab coat over it all alongside the expression of a person who was completely unbothered by the previous event.
That expression did not stay long as she noticed something had gone missing from the kitchen.
“Where the hell is my fridge?” Kokonoe asked, trying her best and failing spectacularly to keep her voice even.
You sat at the table, your head in your hands over a bowl of soup.
“Its contents were the wrong amount of alive.” was all you said in response, a tint of red still on your face as you tried to force the memory of Kokonoe minus her clothes out of your mind.
“What the fuck does that mean?” Kokonoe demanded before the conversation was interrupted by screams.
“HOLY SHIT! LARRY!!! GET THE FLAMETHROWER!!!”
“WHY DOES IT HAVE EYES!!!!”
“It means that.” you muttered before shuddering, composing yourself, and then gesturing to the pot on the stove.
“I have made soup.” you declared.
“Is it any good?” Kokonoe asked, crossing her arms.
“I give you no guarantees.” was your response.
“Meh, good enough for me.” the pink haired scientist declared with a shrug of her shoulders.
Lunch passed in silence save for the sounds of battle outside.
However, lunch did not last long and soon the two of you were getting down to brass tacks.
“Right, we need to go to the store, don’t we?” Kokonoe asked as she put her dishes in the sink.
“Correct. We require a replacement fridge, food, and material for you to grow a plant. I will cover a quarter of the cost for the fridge.” You responded as you put your own dishes into their place.
“A quarter? Aren’t you the one who threw it out?” Kokonoe asked with a raised eyebrow.
“I was not the one who let that godless creature be born. Also, I live on an assistant's salary.” Was your retort and your defense to Kokonoe’s reasoning.
“Fine. Just know I’m not happy about this.” the half beastkin woman declared.
“Duly noted.” was your response.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
After the plan had been decided, the two of you set out and onto the town.
Much like most things involving Kokonoe V.S. The Outside World, as you were coming to find, it became an all day debacle.
Especially with what happened with Kokonoe and that poor appliance salesman.
He made the very reasonable assumption that, due to the two of you coming in at the same time and looking at the fridges on display together, you and Kokonoe were a couple.
You thought Kokonoe was going to tear his head clean off when the words left his mouth. Thankfully, she only skinned him alive with her words and not any of the knives from the kitchen sets that were nearby.
Still, the day remained profitable despite the hiccup, and by the time night fell, the new fridge was installed and stocked with food.
Soon after that, the two of you fell into a rhythm.
Kokonoe would obsess over the plant, you would double check her measurements to ensure everything was going smoothly, then you would begin the most torturous task you had even inflicted upon yourself.
Teaching Kokonoe Mercury how to take care of herself.
First, you started with the basics in Laundry which was easy enough since most of her clothes could be sorted into whites and reds.
Of course, that came with her grumbling about how she could build a robot or get Taeger to do this for the entire time, still, it was progress.
But, then came cooking.
Foolishly, you thought that she would do well in cooking since it was as much science as it was art.
This was a very, very idiotic thought to have.
In five minutes she managed to turn a bag of rice into ash.
It took her ten to completely immolate a fish down to its bones.
After this disaster, you decided to put off trying to teach her how to cook until you had a fire extinguisher on hand.
Still, cooking related mishaps aside, everything was going well in forcing Kokonoe to learn that, no matter how hard she wished or how many drugs she put into her silvervine candy, she still had a body of flesh and blood.
She was, of course, filled with enough rage to burn the world to ash due to this, but that was something you expected when you were co-opted into this debacle.
What you didn’t expect however, was your side of the emotional coin.
Specifically, your growing admiration and care for her.
This isn’t to say you didn’t admire her before this, but more so to say that before this your admiration for her was only professional.
Now though, you were admiring her as a person.
You always knew she was a stubborn person, it was par for the course in the field of science.
Now though, you saw that her stubbornness was something she applied in all facets of her life.
And as you continued to spend time with her, you also saw that her stubbornness and her care were one in the same.
Still, you knew it was better to keep all of that to yourself.
She was your boss and you were her assistant.
It would be better and far simpler for both you and her to keep it that way.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
Kokonoe Mercury, for the first time in a very, very long time, didn’t feel like absolute crap.
Was this the power of three square meals a day, water, and regular doses of sunlight?
If it was, Kokonoe would be… inclined to not kill Litchi the second she got back her lab access.
Just ever so slightly.
The fact she stole you to be her assistant was also helping out.
It was also causing her an immense amount of headache as, against her better judgement, Kokonoe was getting ever so slightly attached to you.
She knew she shouldn’t based on past data.
Everyone she had ever made a bond with had left her, died, or worse.
It was a quantifiable metric.
And yet, here Kokonoe was, thinking of a way to try and even the score.
As loath as she was to admit it, you had taught her things.
To her, knowledge in all its forms was something invaluable.
Sure, she never felt the need to repay someone for teaching her something before but that's unimportant.
What was important now, was finding something worth what you taught her.
Maybe she could invite you to be her research partner?
No, no, no, she already had you as her assistant, that was almost the same thing wasn’t it?
She couldn’t up your salary either since the budget for the year had already been decided.
“Wait, that’s it!” Kokonoe exclaimed, a mad grin making itself known on her face.
Sure, she couldn’t raise your salary, but she could give you a way to take some strain off your budget.
She could just invite you to live with her.
Yes, that would be perfect! It would allow for the symbiotic relationship the two of you had to continue, and it would let Kokonoe continue to operate at maximum efficiency.
Why hadn’t she thought of this sooner?
It was a foolproof plan that benefitted both you and her!
Truly, the genius of Kokonoe Mercury is unparalleled.
If only she was this smart when it came to her emotions and other people.
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vettelsvee · 2 hours ago
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Hi love! For your tortured poets department, can I request endgame from the reputation album, lando being the driver please please 🙏
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END GAME | Lando Norris
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Lando Norris x Friend with benefits Piastri!Reader
SUMMARY: You were used to have random hookups just for fun, including with Lando Norris himself. It's not until he decides to lock both of you up on his driver room and talk about your weird relationship that you don't realize that, deep down, you're willing to settle down your mind and start a dating him ↳ REQUESTED: Yes! Thanks for requesting and hope you like it 💖 Part of REPUTATION in MY TORTURED DRIVERS DEPARTMENT
WORD COUNT: 2745
WARNINGS: Slightly +18 at the end (sorry for leaving it there ☺️), mentions of friends with benefits, spelling with multiple people, angst, curse words
VEE'S NOTES: Haven't written Lando in a very, very long time, so hope you like this one! University and my mental health are killing me but you know what? Writing is what keeps me going (and specially your comments have been a boost of serotonin for me lately). Also... the 2k special is already living rent free in my mind and I can't wait to achieve the goal to post it 😭 I wanna give spoilers now so... you know 🤓 ↳ TALK TO ME / REQUESTS! | FORMULA 1 MASTERLIST
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© VETTELSVEE (2025). please, do not steal, copy or translate my works. thanks for reading!
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"You finally decided to show up at a race. I was starting to think you only liked having me naked in your bed behind your brother’s back."
You smiled at the screen, playing with your fingers as you thought how could you answer Lando. Your relationship was based purely on sex, moreover sexting, with barely any real conversations whenever you met, moans and orgasms speaking for you both instead.
You had never felt the need to go beyond that, to involve feelings in your relationship, or at least that’s what you had made clear to Lando before sleeping with him the very first time. You also let him know that, besides him, there were other guys with whom you had no commitments whatsoever.
However, it was with Lando that you spent most of your time. The others were nothing more than a safe escape, an easy way out when the Brit wasn’t around.
"Be grateful that I even came," you finally replied. "And don’t flatter yourself. I came to see my brother, not to make you come before a race."
You hesitated, wondering if your reply was harsh enough to keep him from getting any ideas and, more importantly, to stop him from insisting on meeting up. You weren’t sure how, but you wanted to end that strange relationship before it spiraled out of control because, whether you wanted to admit it or not, you had started to feel something for him.
Yes, just a few weeks ago, you had one of your usual encounters with a friend of one of your best friends. But everything fell apart when, right before reaching your climax, you couldn’t help it: you moaned Lando’s name instead.
That was what made you question what exactly you felt for Norris and why the label of friends with benefits seemed to be fading away.
"Don’t play dumb, Piastri. See you at the motorhome. You know exactly where."
You huffed. Of course, you knew exactly where you’d be meeting. After all, ever since your brother became a Formula 1 driver, you had visited his teammate’s personal room more than Oscar’s.
With a sigh, making sure neither your mother nor your sisters were nearby, you got up, grabbed the plastic cup that still had a bit of coffee left, and walked with as much determination as you could muster toward McLaren’s motorhome, finishing your drink along the way.
As you walked, mentally preparing a script in case things got tense with Lando, you greeted the people you knew, or at least those who knew you as Y/N Piastri. Lewis was genuinely happy to see you and even stopped to chat, but you excused yourself, saying you had already made plans. Fernando gave you a knowing look, as if trying to figure out what exactly you were about to do with a certain driver.
Even your brother crossed paths with you at the entrance to McLaren’s motorhome. You managed to lie to him, partially, saying Lando had asked you to take a few pictures of him before the race.
Oscar gave you a strange look, then rolled his eyes, offered a small smile and told you to enjoy whatever it was you both were about to do.
You said nothing, but you knew your twin brother well enough to realize he already had a pretty good idea of what you were up to with Norris. Not that you tried too hard to hide it.
When you reached Lando’s room, you didn’t even have to knock. The door opened instantly, revealing a slightly tired-looking Lando with a cup in his hand. His race suit was already on but zipped only to his waist, leaving the top half hanging loose. His team cap was still on, though it didn’t last long since he took it off and tossed it aside within seconds.
He grinned from ear to ear, like he had been waiting for you with far too much anticipation.
"Come in. Make yourself at home," he said with that mischievous tone you were so used to hearing, though something about it felt slightly different this time.
You walked inside without hesitation, crossing your arms and ignoring him, except for the occasional sideways glance to see if he would do or say something before you did. Unfortunately, he didn’t.
"If you wanted a quick fuck before the race you could’ve just said so, you know?"
"I don’t think today’s the best day to fuck you and let everyone hear," he replied. "At least, not yet. Today, we’re going to talk."
"We don’t talk, Lando," you shot back, feeling an internal alarm go off. "And when we do, it’s just to ask about the safe word of the day, what we want to do to each other, and how close we are to coming."
"Well, maybe it’s time we started talking, don’t you think so?"
His answer took you completely by surprise. Your gazes remained locked on each other, and you felt the atmosphere grow tense.
For the first time in a long while, there was no excuse you could use to avoid that conversation with Lando. Maybe the fact that you had been ignoring him for the past few weeks was enough to make him realize that there was a chance—however small—that things had changed between you two.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm the growing sense of unease settling in your chest. Lando kept looking at you with that same intensity he always did, except this time… it was different. It wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in a situation like this, where there were a thousand unsaid things hanging between you, waiting to be voiced. But it was the first time, at least on your part, where feelings were involved beyond pure physical desire.
"I don’t think there’s anything to talk about," you said as nonchalantly as possible, but your tense posture betrayed you.
Lando set his cup down on the table beside him. Then, he sat on the edge, crossing his arms again, and reached for your hands only for you to pull away and take a step back.
"I think you know exactly what we need to talk about," he replied calmly. His voice was lower than usual, and you felt the heat grow between your legs. You shook your head, feeling guilty and doing your best to push away that sudden, but familiar, awakening in your body.
"You’ve been avoiding me, Y/N. And don’t tell me you haven’t, because you were in Monaco and never called me to meet up… to see each other," he added, his voice laced with something unreadable. "In fact, we usually sext almost every day, and you didn’t even bother to tell me what  new lingerie set you bought for when you came over."
"I didn’t tell you I was coming to Miami either."
Your reply, rather than making you sound indifferent, exposed you completely. Lando raised an eyebrow, as if he had caught you red-handed. That was when you realized you had seriously screwed up.
"I haven’t been avoiding you, Lando. I’ve just been busy," you insisted.
"Busy? You mean busy by ignoring me?" He scoffed, ironic. His expression turned much more serious now, and you started to worry about where this might lead. "Tell me the truth, Y/N. What’s going on? What’s happening with you?" he emphasized.
You averted your gaze, pretending to take interest in the room’s decoration, a room you already knew by heart. You knew you couldn’t keep dodging the topic, but you also had no idea how to confront it without changing everything you had so far. It was impossible to put into words what you felt for Lando, not when your relationship had always been purely physical. And especially not when there was a real chance you were just confused… and, well, you couldn’t forget the possibility that he might only see you as his hookup.
"Nothing’s wrong," you finally responded.
"I thought we were always honest with each other," Lando sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
You felt your throat tighten. It was hard to breathe. You had been honest, at least when it came to the unrestricted desire between you, to touching each other without attachments, to seeking comfort in one another without questions that went beyond your wildest fantasies. You had avoided anything personal.
But now, you were slowly breaking the unspoken rules that had kept you in perfect balance until this moment.
"I’ve been busy, Lando, and the last thing I wanted was to deal with you, alright?" you insisted, trying to sound as convincing as possible. "Things should have stayed the way they were until, according to you, I started ignoring you."
"No, Y/N, things aren’t like that," the Brit denied, shaking his head. He stepped closer, cornering you against the wall. "If you don’t want to face something because you’re afraid of rejection, just tell me. But, for fuck’s sake, don’t act like I did something wrong, because you’re killing me."
"Lando…"
"Stop insisting that nothing is happening between us, when that’s exactly what makes me think the opposite."
His confession caught you completely off guard. His words—clear, direct, and without a hint of sarcasm, threw you off… especially because you knew he was right.
You felt the urge to run, to disappear, to pretend none of this had ever happened. Most of all, you wanted to deny yourself any romantic thought you had ever had about Oscar’s teammate.
When you lowered your gaze, Lando moved back slightly, giving you space and making sure he didn’t overwhelm you more than you already seemed to be. You sighed, trying to relax once again, but before you could say anything, he spoke first.
"Tell me nothing’s wrong between us, Y/N Piastri," he said softly. "If nothing has really changed, if everything is the same between us… dare to look at  me in the eyes and say it."
Your chest tightened. You couldn’t run away, not when Lando had you emotionally cornered, teetering on the edge of an explosion. Your breathing was unsteady, heavy. Your mind screamed at you to find an excuse, anything that would let you stay true to yourself regardless of what happened next.
Lando waited, unmoving, his blue eyes locked onto yours with an intensity that made you tremble for the first time in your life—without him even touching you. It was the first time he had shown himself to you like this: so vulnerable and yet so determined at the same time.
"Nothing is wrong between us, Lando Norris," you finally whispered, forcing the words out, ignoring both your heart and the boy standing in front of you.
"Say it again, but this time, look me in the eyes."
He didn’t move an inch. He knew you were lying; your posture gave you away—the way you avoided his gaze, the way your fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt and your accreditation pass…
You squeezed your eyes shut tightly. You had no choice… at least, not entirely.
Lifting your gaze, you met his blue eyes once again. Your lips parted slightly, ready to try and let out a lie convincing enough for both him and yourself.
But it was impossible. You couldn’t keep doing this, not when, deep down, and no matter how hard you tried to deny it, you felt something more than just pleasure for Lando Norris. The fear of rejection… it terrified you. The thought of him turning you away, of losing what you had with him, was unbearable.
"Lando…"
"You don’t have to say it if you’re not ready," he interrupted. "But please… stop pushing me away. Stop making this to us."
"It’s just…"
Nothing. No matter how much you tried to explain yourself, to find a logical enough reason for your sudden ghosting, you couldn’t.
"It’s just what, Y/N?" the Brit pressed. "Are you afraid to take a risk? To admit something because you’re scared of what might happen next? Because you don’t want to change the life you’ve had until now? Because you want to…?"
Lando forced himself to stop. He ran his hands through his hair, exasperated, turning his back to you. Guilt hit you immediately, your body trembling as the storm inside you began to break free. The driver rubbed his face, frustration radiating from him. This was exhausting him. You were exhausting him, to the point where he was starting to doubt his own feelings. Feelings that had started to grow the moment he realized it hurt when you ignored him, when you didn’t even send him a simple "Hey."
"I wish this were different, Y/N," he finally murmured, his voice thick with emotion as he turned to face you again. "I wish you didn’t make me feel like this. I wish I could just be content with what we had before and pretend none of this was happening…"
Your stomach twisted painfully. That was exactly what you had been thinking, the very reason you had pulled away from him and from whatever this was. You had ignored the fact that your feelings for Lando Norris had become something much stronger—maybe they had been there for far longer than you were willing to admit.
"Lando, listen" You tried to step closer, but he pulled away.
"No, Y/N, no," he said bitterly. "I tried convincing myself there was a reason you were ignoring me, acting like I was nothing to you, and then it hit me that I really want you as more than just someone to fuck."
"That…" you struggled to say, stepping toward him. This time, Lando didn’t stop you. The sincerity in your eyes, the way you looked both calm and nervous at the same time, made him realize he had to trust his instincts. And that was exactly what they were telling him.
"That’s what I wanted to tell you," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but Lando still heard you. "That’s why I kept you on standby for two weeks… I knew this would change everything, that you’d react badly, that we’d end up fighting, and I… I didn’t know how to face the possibility of you rejecting… this."
Lando stared at you in surprise before a sad smile crept onto his lips.
"Y/N… I’ve always been good at reading signals, but this has been driving me fucking crazy."
"And you think it’s not been making me feel the same?" you shot back, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders.
Lando stepped closer, taking your hands in his. You didn’t resist, feeling how the both of you tensed at the contact. His lips inched toward yours, and when they finally met, the kiss was so fierce, so full of passion, that you ended up straddling him on the couch, moving against him, desperate to feel him. Even though you both knew there was still a race in two hours.
"I don’t want to touch you like this, Y/N," Norris whispered against your ear as you left small bites along his neck. "Y/N, stop it babe…"
"I don’t wanna be just another ex-love to you, Lando…" you murmured between kisses, still searching for friction between your bodies.
"And I don’t wanna miss you like your other lovers do, babe…"
This time, Lando gripped your waist firmly, flipping you onto the couch beneath him. His eyes never left yours as he carefully lifted your shirt and started massaging your breasts over your bra.
"I wanna be your end game, Y/N," Lando breathed, unable to tear his gaze away from you.
Your breath came out in shallow pants, and you felt like you were teetering on the edge. Your hands gripped the unfastened gear around his waist, tugging lightly to keep him close.
"Then prove it."
"I have a race in two hours, love…" he murmured, his voice rough as he pressed his forehead to yours, his arousal growing.
"Then you better be quick," you teased, running your hands over his abs beneath the fireproof. "Especially if you don’t want Osc to hear us…"
"You’re gonna be the death of me one day, Y/N Piastri," Lando groaned as he trailed his fingers up your thighs, lowering himself before you. "Now, open your legs for me... You deserve a punishment after being such a bad, bad girl these past few days…"
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pixiedurango · 3 days ago
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If you wouldn't mind, I'd appreciate a letter from Illario to Lucanis that is basically him wondering how the hell his awkward cousin managed to attract a hottie like Rook De Riva. (Bonus points for it being my Rook, Adava. I've posted a couple screenshot archives of her.) Thank you very much! This is such a wonderful and fun thing you're doing for the community!
Ding Dong. Another special delivery from the Antivan Postal Service.
We all know Illario is a yapper... this may be the reason why this letter is so crazy long. It's a bit more than just the one requested topic, I hope you don't mind, but I felt, that even Illario would not just kick down the door and starts asking awkward questions about his cousin's love-life. I honestly can't figure, how Lucanis would even answer this letter... Anyway, enjoy!
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Transcript:
Cousin, I hope you don’t mind me, bothering you. I know the new First Talon is still saving the world and has probably not the time and even less patience to read from a despicable criminal anyway. Even (or rather because) said criminal is your blood and the closest thing to family you’ll ever have. Beside of course our dear Caterina, who naturally sends her regards (because this way she’s excused to write a letter to you herself. Which of course she would never confirm, and I would NEVER even think. Huh, who wrote that?)
I spend my time doing paperwork for the Diamond recently, since Viago could not be bothered to supervise me all day and night (which I don’t take offensive, I would not want to be my watchdog, either.) Of course no one gives me a contract anymore, maybe there are some with my name on it, but I fear, you’ll find that name in an unfamiliar spot there. No wonder, Viago is paranoid, that something might get out of hand. Which would make him fail his first ever contract from the new First Talon by losing his ward (that would be me).
Not that I wish for this to happen, but then, what is life without the roofs of Treviso in the moonlight, its markets and cafés. The canals and gondolas and the beautiful people in the streets. While I am stuck in the belly of the Diamond. Copying inventory lists.
Anyway, how’s your days? And I mean the parts we don’t get to read in the gazettes or war reports. Allow me to live a little through your new life. I want to know about hat Lighthouse you’re residing in. Living in the Fade is such a weird concept on its own – but being there stuck with a bunch of non-Antivans who are each so different and unique, but you’re still all on the same contract - that sounds like an interesting experience. And they are all so stunningly beautiful and exciting personalities.
Speaking of exciting: Send my kindest regards to that divine but harsh Tevinter detective if you don’t mind, my brother. I’d be very intrigued to get to know other Tevinter people. For a wider perspective, maybe if you want to call it that?
And no, I’m not trying to make a joke here. Or try to push a shady agenda. I just feel that my choices of people from the Imperium was not the… most educated one.
You know what? Never mind, you shouldn’t have to bother with such silly requests and why I feel to ask them from you.
Better we hold onto our words about the things past until we can exchange them in person.
But, you are aware that I simply could have made up a story to make you introduce me to her, right? Or, even better, I just could have written to your Tevinter friend right away, instead of asking you to give my regards…
Speaking of friends. Must be all new and awkward for you, cousin. I can’t remember you having any close acquaintances ever, at all, when we grew up. I would never have thought, you’d have that in you.
Of course now, this all new YOU will not have any more use for your poor cousin - who’s fallen from grace, to do all the nasty ice breaking and socializing for you. And we were such a successful double like that.
Remember that wigmaker job? Vyranthium, I guess. It got you your, moniker, right? Demon of Vyranthium. Just like a creepy foreshadowing, don’t you think? Anyway, what was I talking about? Ah!
You did all the bloody work back then, I happily give you that, but without me? Way more complicated it would have been, I dare say. And even more dangerous as it was already.
Cousin, just think about it. We could rule Antiva together. Or just retire and be the rulers of our own court, whereever that may be - and do what ever we please.
Or did you eventually make peace with being the one in charge? First Talon! So much responsibility. And so large boots to fill.
May Caterina continue to live and rule on for many many more years to come. So you don’t have to step up entirely. Letting her continue to draw strings in the shadows, while you being the representative and handsome young face of the Antivan Crows. That was a clever move from the old girl. Or was it yours? Either way. She could have all that with less drama and an even prettier face, far more willing, to put up with her and her attics. But, well, here we are.
Sorry, I fell back into ramblings about things again, that should be topic for us talking in person. Forgive me. How did I get there in the first place… I have no idea. Maybe this gives you a hint, of just HOW boring the paperwork is, I get to do here. I start yapping. In a letter.
Before I end this pointless lament, cousin, brother! I want to congratulate you. Honestly. Of course, only if it's true, what’s going round within the Diamond and probably the salons of Treviso’s nobility, too. That the new First Talon, known to be the chastest of all Crows, finally decided to seriously court someone. And not only that. It’s even reciprocated this time, as we hear.
A strategic bond with the House of the 5th Talon? I hear that not few people are taking it this way.
But I know you better, cousin. You’d never engage into such an endeavor, when it’s not playing out like in your silly romance novels. (Yes, of course I know what you always hid between your textbooks and under the mattress. Kitsch!) But well, to each their own, I guess. You the books and me the real experience. But you seem to finally getting there, as it seems. Tell me everything, brother! I’ve witnessed you yapping about coffee and kisses goodbye and smarmy stuff like that. You were really into that de Riva girl, right from the start. There goes my last hope, that Adava had, or would ever discover, a soft spot for me behind her wall of professionalism and all business. Just joking, of course, I’m happy for you both. I mean it.
Just don’t let your heart and your… midsection get into the way of a contract. Which in your case would very much unfortunate for all of Thedas. But who am I to give you advice of matters of the heart… (or the midsection) My latest choices weren’t the smartest, either.
Before I end up filling a journal here, I’ll end now. If you want, write me back, I really want to hear about your life and could use any distraction. We’re family, after all. - Illario
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Find the other letters here
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brutally-loving · 2 days ago
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MEAN LESBIANSS OKAY LET ME SEE.
Well I hope you like large women as well. Ostella. She's a bit evil, a bit malicious. She's a Great Dragon from one of my worlds, standing at 9'2 in her humanoid form. She's BRUTAL. She's harsh as a whole, with a sweet smile and the will to put the world on hold if she so desires. She's got great knowledge of the strings of fate, seeing as she chooses whose get cut and whose remain another day. Easily bored, she likes company and talking to others. She's has an adoration for dramatic fashion, and is quite quick to pick up new creative hobbies. She's also the type to scare retail workers (even if not on purpose always). She's got a commanding presence and a giggly attitude that makes for a slightly offputting presence when interacting with mortals. She knows too much. About everyone. All the time. She's very willing to be rough, rude, and generally cruel. She's got an almost untouchable status. It takes a lot to really get to know her.
She's got gorgeous long hair, with a general color pallete that's akin to a purple sunset. She's tall, as previously stated, and loves her dresses and skirts. She holds a lot of time motifs on her person as well.
As a partner, she's very attentive. She knows so much about you already, but she wants to hear it from you, too. So she asks questions, leans back, and listens. She laughs at all of your jokes. You can tell when she likes you, there's a certain fondness and pride that she has when she looks at and talks to you. She likes to set her hand on your shoulder when around you, strong yet delicate hands remaining steady as she does whatever else she may be up to. Whether that's talking to her twin brother, sentencing someone to the honors, or even just ordering you food, that's kind of how she is. Her love languages are physical touch and quality time.
Scenario... Ostella brings you to see the stars. She sits close to you, gently directing your gaze to the different constellations of her planet. "That's my brother's," she tells you, pointing out the set of stars. "And that's mine. Perhaps we'll make you your own constellation soon, yes?" She doesn't take any other answer besides yes. She smirks, and continues talking about her knowledge of her world's cosmos. Mentioning the strings of fate. How she yanked and rethreaded them to get here with you now. How she'd do it again, just for another night. But don't worry about that, she doesn't have to do it again anyway.
What if I told you I have 117 OCs. What if I wanted someone to f/o one. What if you told me your type and I handed you an OC. What then. (Could be a reblog game if you wanted it to be idc)
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simplydnp · 4 months ago
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Hii as a passive fan looking in from sidelines, I read something along the lines that Dan and Phil did come out like few weeks apart but they haven’t confirmed or denied that they are in a relationship? I am confused as what is the official narrative from their side, can you clear this for me please.
I have no doubt of them being together just confused about official timeline, xx
dan and phil are embracing the ambiguity that is brought to them under the 'we know you know' mindset
you're correct in that they came out a few weeks apart (though, phil kind of did in his tweet supporting dan on the day dan came out)
it's funny you ask this, as we do have a recent answer to a reporter about their relationship:
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this is the first time they've really been asked this since coming out, but it's important to note the context here: they're talking to a new zealand reporter, about their tour. to me, it reads as an aggressive fuck off signal to the media. ie, this topic is off-limits. so 'officially' their stance is that their lives are private.
unofficially? there's a year's worth of dapg videos that carry heavy implications. it's a lot of reading between the lines, it's a lot of interpreting jokes, it's a lot of paying attention to things both Said and not said. from explicit sex jokes to earnest moments to even specific games they've played, it's easy for an audience to pick up the clues because we're looking for them--cause dan and phil tend to put them there for us. it is important to note that there has been a significant change in tone of the gaming videos from the past vs the gaming videos now. while the language and the types of jokes have changed, so has the dynamic--in the best way possible. they're much more free and relaxed on camera now, both an intentional choice and the result of being out for 5 years.
they've got a mortgage together, alright?
in terms of them not directly commenting on it--at least at this point, it just makes things easier. they aren't usually on tour so reporters aren't usually asking them these questions, but even beyond that, they're incredibly internet famous. even they themselves were surprised about quote "how many people were horny for dan and phil in 2024". and sure, it isn't the same numbers as pre-hiatus, but there's definitely still a lot of people here. so while we champion for a hard-launch (since they keep moving closer) we also know that it's bigger than just saying it. it would be everywhere. everyone would have something to say. and then it's not about the content anymore, it's the relationship (though, one would argue their chemistry makes the content, but i would say their connection adds to it, but isn't the commodity they specifically sell)
in terms of the timeline in particular, we're days away from 15 years of dan and phil, in that they filmed and posted pinof 1 in 2009 at the end of this week. they've never intentionally specified any other anniversary, so we don't know (though we have suspicions), but it's unlikely it took That long to get there. coming out was the next Biggest step, one could argue, and you're right about the timeline of weeks between videos. what i reckon that's important to note is that dan 'appeared' in a phil video surprisingly soon after june, despite not having made any other videos since christmas of the year before. even though it was just his voice, it was enough. there were 4 ish years of limited joint content between them, but it did happen (mostly stories and podcast style things), up until the return of dapg last october. since then, there's been regular dapg uploads (crazy phrase) and dan's either been directly in or mentioned in every single amazingphil video since the return. it depends how much you think implications and indirect phrasing are evidence/signifiers, but there's been a Lot that's come out of gaming videos in particular that Mean Things to the fans, but aren't something able to be captured by the media and ran with (though, one article did see the 'dan and phil are getting divorced' title and reported on it as if it were true, despite it just being an 'it takes two' video)
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ganondoodle · 3 months ago
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Kinda in regards to the Empress & BodyGuard 2-
Is Zaphira (sorry if I spelled her name wrong) an elf or do humans have pointed ears in your universe? If no elves, how do the pointed ears happen? Are there different length of ears and if so do they mean somethin?
Love your art & use of colours!
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Thank you! and thank you for asking! (this sketch took me way too long .. and the colors still look washed out on my desktop screen but im not editing a third time ..)
Zaphira is human, there are no elves, as such, in this world, though humans tend to live longer than IRL and have differently shaped ears-
the shapes are rather diverse (example above) and culturally (so far) they have no significance, they are merely a trait just like different nose shapes or fantasy hair colors
the worldbuilding reason is that these are extremely diluted demonic influences- in the past demons were frequently in the human world, though largely in secret/disguised, and long time exposure to demonic presences can have varying effects, the most immediate and common being a longer life or wounds healing faster than normal; there might have been other long time effects but the only trait that stayed even after their disappearance is the ear shapes
(there was a mass extinction event of demons that wiped out all above a certain age, since demons generally dont die of natural causes their life neither depends nor revolves around reproduction so there were extremely few left and those were too young to keep most of their knowledge and culture alive, as they rarely wrote anything down; Shargon is of the current oldest generation and witnessed it happen, just like most now adult demons, Thor and Eadrya are both a bit older than him and thus the oldest living demons, which doesnt mean much considering the technically endless lifespans of them)
and to explain me including Shargon in a human appearance- hes the only demon that spends as much time in the human world as at home, largely to escape the others since they are not interested in going there and would otherwise attack him any chance they get (the human world is rather uncomfortable for demons to be in and they have better things to do than to chase him that far), while hes generally very weak compared to them, something he is very good at is shape shifting, mainly the speed of which, being able to shift between full demon and the smaller more humanoid form extremely quickly, or even mid forms that are a mix of both - even in motion! while for the others it takes them quite a bit and forces them to stop which is the main reason he keeps escaping them not able to keep up with his rapid shape shifting (though it does take its toll .. also a reason hes so skinny)
he is the first (only?) one that at some point will learn how to shift into a much more human looking one (depicted in the sketch) too, but its rather dangerous since it involves supressing and compressing his demon heart and system... which is what keeps demons alive (its somewhat like holding your breath for way too long) so the only time he would make use of it is in extreme situations, like avoiding detection by maschines that can pick up demonic energy or escaping shackles made of celestial silver (which drains their energy and can scar/hurt them permanently, like silver to vampires(?werewolfs?) in a way)
....the point is that if he shifts into a human form he has very long ears, meaning that is basically the extreme form that doesnt occur in humans and hints at the origins for those ear shapes being demonic exposure in the past
#ganondoodles#art#original characters#original art#oc#ocs#oc lore#man i cant ever keep it short can i#its 1am again ............#welll i hope that answers your question njdflndflnjlsd#also as a sidenote- zaphira and midas are siblings but not biologically#she was adopted into the royal family and is good chunk older than midas as he was born a while after shes been there#he was supposed to take the throne after their parents died in an allegedly accidental fire but he was like ... 6 at the time#and begged her to take up the throne instead despite the people not being very fond of her due to her agressive nature#.... which was proven correct in a way given she waged war for many years after taking up the crown#(.. bc she found out their parents were killed by a neighbouring country and the fire placed to get rid of traces)#(no one but her and a few officials knew of that being the real reason she attacked that country and not just a lust for power)#(midas still doesnt know -even now)#( though it got out of control and she ended up taking over multiple countries .. hence her title)#(after her wife died she swore to never engage in war again and been spending the last .. 20?30? years trying to repair the damage she did)#just adding that again bc its kinda central to her entire problem of everyone and their grandmother wanting her dead#and her being determined to do as much as she can before midas has to take over and pick up the pieces#..............though none of it goes as planned of course#ANYWAY i need sleep#sorry for the long text spam#i cant help but yap about my special lil guys
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alliluyevas · 7 months ago
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Here's a potentially controversial AG question for you.
Do you think adult Felicity would continue to own slaves?
Oh, wow, yeah, this is a heavy hitter. Honestly, historically and statistically, almost certainly yes. But there is definitely a semi-plausible chance otherwise.
I'm going to reframe this question slightly, because due to the legal system of coverture in her time, if Felicity marries, which she almost certainly will, her husband will have ownership of any property either of them bring into the marriage. So the question is more accurately: will adult Felicity be the wife and mistress of a household that owns slaves?
I don't mean to reduce adult!Felicity's moral or personal agency, but the answer to this question may also depend on who she marries, both in terms of his socioeconomic status and his personal beliefs about slavery.
Felicity's father and maternal grandfather are both slaveholders in the book series, though in different socioeconomic niches. Mr. Merriman is a shopkeeper in town with two enslaved laborers, Marcus and Rose. Grandfather is a plantation owner and there is presumably a larger workforce. (I can't remember exactly what the legal situation is after Grandfather dies in the final book, but I believe Mr. Merriman inherits the plantation through his wife which would imply she has no brothers, and then administers it while primarily living in town. I could just be completely making that up, though, and I couldn't find confirmation online and don't have my Felicity books on me at the moment.)
If she marries a man who is similar in socioeconomic status to her father (ie, a relatively prosperous shopkeeper or artisan in Williamsburg) he will likely own or rent slaves. If she marries someone similar to her grandfather, he definitely will. I can see either of these routes as plausible for Felicity. Living primarily in Williamsburg, she may be most likely to encounter townsfolk, but she would also potentially be courted by young men attending college at William and Mary, who would likely be from plantation families elsewhere in Virginia, or she might marry the son of one of Grandfather's neighbors or something. (Side note: there is one existing character in her books who might be a potential future Mr. Felicity: her father's apprentice, Ben. Felicity and Ben clearly get along really well and have a lot in common, and when Felicity reaches the age where she is thinking about marriage, Ben will likely be around, either still working with Mr. Merriman or a business acquaintance/family friend. It wasn't uncommon to marry someone with that kind of family/business connection at all. If Felicity were to marry Ben, he would likely eventually be in a similar socioeconomic niche to her father.)
So, what are the possible futures where Felicity and her husband are not slaveholders?
First of all, she could marry someone who is socioeconomically in a position where he simply cannot afford to do so. This is, imo, the least likely. I don't think her parents would encourage this. (I think Mrs. Merriman may have married slightly "beneath her" as I kind of got the vibe that Grandfather is wealthier than Mr. Merriman is, and he certainly is in terms of ownership of both land and slaves, which is how wealth was generally calculated in Virginia. On the other hand, this might also be a town/country divide, and Mr. Merriman is evidently able to comfortably provide for his family.) Also, if she was to fall in love with and marry someone of a lower socioeconomic rank, it is possible that her family would financially help him rise rather than that Felicity would just go off and be broke with him.
I think a more plausible route would be that Felicity either marries a man who is actively against slavery and her beliefs are then influenced by him or she independently develops anti-slavery convictions prior to her marriage and then chooses a man who has similar beliefs.
I do want to point out that there were a lot of Virginians in this general period who expressed anti-slavery beliefs while still continuing to own slaves. I think in many cases these people were experiencing genuine moral discomfort and conflict but ultimately chose to prioritize their own financial well being. I think, unfortunately, the most likely future may be one where Felicity experiences some moral qualms over slavery and questions some aspects of the society she lives in, but ultimately chooses to stick with the status quo.
However, I think there are some semi-plausible paths where Felicity and her husband might end up in a situation where they choose genuinely meaningful opposition to slavery. There are other situations in the AG books where characters get an ending that is better if historically less plausible, after all. (IE Addy's family is able to reunite. Samantha's relatives adopt Nellie.) Even if it's unlikely, this outcome for Felicity would not be unheard of.
For instance, she might marry a Northerner and goes to live wherever he is from. (If he chooses to move to Virginia permanently, he might also choose to conform to the economic system of the slave culture in his adopted state.) This happened with one of Thomas Jefferson's granddaughters who married a man from Massachusetts and moved up there with him. This would have been a woman about a generation younger than Felicity, but it's not outside the realm of possibility to happen earlier, either. I can't really picture Felicity wanting to leave her home and family, but if she's already developed anti-slavery beliefs on her own she might think it's worth it.
She might also marry a Virginian who believes slavery is wrong and is actually willing to do something about it. I wish I could remember the man's name, but I was just reading about some young plantation owner who wrote to Jefferson in the 1820s about his deep discomfort with slavery and his desire to free his slaves. Jefferson basically advised him to go slow and do nothing for the time being, and this man wrote him again chewing him out saying it wasn't enough. He ultimately chose to leave Virginia, and settle in Ohio, where he purchased plots of land so that his newly freed former slaves could start their own farms. This is later than Felicity would have been finding a husband, and this man's decision was one very few of his peers would have made. But, again, it's not impossible.
I think the man I just talked about had primarily ethical objections to slavery, not religious ones, but I think the most plausible way for Felicity to develop meaningfully anti-slavery convictions is through religion. The Second Great Awakening would have begun when Felicity was in her mid-twenties. Some people in Southern states who became evangelical Christians during this time period began to believe that slavery was a sin against God. The most famous example of this is Robert Carter III, a Virginia plantation owner who became a Baptist and ended up freeing over 500 people. (He also ended up having to flee the state of Virginia because people were threatening him over this and lived the rest of his life in Baltimore.) Evangelical conversions were most common among the lower classes, especially in the beginning, but also took off among women from higher social classes. Robert Carter notwithstanding, wealthier men were the least likely to be born again. So I think it's very plausible that Felicity might choose to become a Methodist or Baptist, but if she was 25+ at the time she would likely already be married and it is less likely her husband would also convert. So she might end up in a situation where she is opposed to slavery but her husband, who does not share her religious beliefs, is not, and he controls their property. Or, it's possible she marries later than the average, or she is widowed young and remarries a man from her church, or manages to convert her husband.
So, I can definitely see some pathways for an anti-slavery adult Felicity, but it would require both her and her husband to develop convictions and the moral courage to enact them that were highly unusual for people in their class and context. Unusual, but not unheard of.
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schoolhater · 3 months ago
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answering a couple questions i got on this post since i realized ppl genuinely wanna know:
tl;dr:
israel lets very, very little aid get into gaza. even the UN can't get in as much as they want to. funding individual families, gazan led initiatives, and mutual aid collectives operating out of gaza ensures gazans can provide for themselves and pay for the extremely expensive aid that is available.
with all the civil infrastructure destroyed by israel, the situation on the ground has devolved into unrestricted capitalism, driving up the price of aid (that should be free!). this makes it more urgent for people to have funding for daily survival.
the post linked above has examples of how donating to individual families can help a lot. if you want to help more than one family at a time, there are many gazan-led initiatives focusing on rebuilding their infrastructure and distributing aid fairly that are worth donating to instead of large charities that already get the majority of donations.
as i mentioned in the last post: @/careforgaza on twitter is a nonprofit started by gazans, it's been endorsed by multiple palestinian journalists.
the sameer project is a collective organized by diaspora palestinians offering emergency shelter to gazans.
ele elna elak is a project aiming to bring water, food, shelter, etc. to gazans and has been promoted by bisan owda.
and the municipality of gaza itself is fundraising to rebuild water infrastructure.
all of these organizations are active inside gaza right now and are being run by gazans. if anyone knows of other gazan-led mutual aid projects, nonprofits or charities feel free to link them in the notes! hope this helped!
long answers under the cut!
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if you wanna donate to a charity that's absolutely fine, but the thing is most charities (and even the UN!) are unable to make it into gaza in the first place, leaving aid rotting at the egyptian side of the border or subject to israeli settler attacks
not to mention, charities and nonprofits also maintain a paternalistic colonial relationship with the indigenous people they are trying to help, determining what aid they need for them instead of returning power to them and letting them make their own choices
i'm not here to say that one option is better than the other, just that they achieve different things and are equally legitimate. there's an attitude among people who question the legitimacy of these gofundme campaigns that somehow the people promoting them are telling them not to donate to charities. nobody is stopping you from donating to charities. we are just asking that you do not dehumanize the very real gazans in your inbox just because their method of asking for aid is more direct and risky.
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unfortunately that's exactly what has happened. because israel destroyed all of gaza's more formalized infrastructure, it seems that organized crime and rampant inflation has taken its place. aid is supposed to be free, but in order to save for evacuation or the cost of living, people have started selling them at an inflated price. and aid that is truly free attracts intense, large crowds that are dangerous to navigate.
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this was posted on abc a few days ago
it's pure, unrestrained capitalism. i've had multiple palestinians describe this situation to me confidence. that's why everything's so expensive now. why people have to rent out tiny plots of land for their tents to sit on, why my friend @siraj2024 still has to buy tarps to cover the broken windows of the overpriced bombed out apartment he rented, and why a bag of flour can cost a thousand bucks in the north.
even before israel closed and then bombed the rafah crossing, the egyptian hala travel agency was only allowing people to cross the border if they paid a hefty $5000 USD per adult / $2500 USD per child bribe. it denies doing this, but the hundreds of stories from palestinians say otherwise.
with regard to the economy, here in america we saw something similar happen in the wake of hurricane helene and milton. the podcaster margaret killjoy describes how she saw dual economies rise after asheville was fully cut off from the rest of the country - some people offered each other supplies for free in a sort of mutual aid honor system, and some people required payment when they lent supplies because they themselves needed to buy stuff for their families. these dual economies exist in gaza too. and this means they all still need money to survive.
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gojorgeous · 1 year ago
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"creature of myth."
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pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)
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You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 
You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 
You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 
Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 
Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 
You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 
The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 
The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 
When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 
Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 
You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 
The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 
Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 
“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 
You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 
You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 
Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”
You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 
“Yes, my lady?” 
You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?
You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 
There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”
Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 
You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 
You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 
You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 
You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 
You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 
You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 
You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 
You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 
You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 
You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 
“Do you like them?” 
You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 
He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 
Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 
He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 
“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 
Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 
There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 
“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 
You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 
“Of course… Satoru.” 
He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 
“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 
“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 
There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 
“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 
You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?
“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 
He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 
You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?
Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.
Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 
His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 
“Not tonight.” 
His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 
His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 
“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 
You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 
~  
You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 
That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 
When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 
“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 
You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”
A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 
“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 
You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 
You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 
That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 
There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.
~
If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 
Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 
The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 
You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 
He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 
“It was… good.”
You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 
You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 
That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 
A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 
Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 
You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 
You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.
It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 
“You’re not… eating?”
That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 
Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 
You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 
The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 
By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 
“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 
“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 
You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 
He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 
You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”
His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 
You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 
He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 
When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 
He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 
You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 
His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 
“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 
~
You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 
Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 
As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.
~
The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 
The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.
~
You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 
You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.
Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 
Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 
You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 
It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 
You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 
“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 
You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 
“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.
A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 
“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 
Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 
“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”
You skip ahead again.
“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”
Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 
“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 
No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 
“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 
You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 
“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 
No, no, no. 
“(See next page for only existing portrait)”
Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 
You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 
Knock! Knock! Knock!
You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 
You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 
“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 
You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 
Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 
“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 
His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 
No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 
“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 
“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 
You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”
You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?
“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 
You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 
“About the estate?” he asks. 
You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”
His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 
You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”
“Anything interesting?” he presses.
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 
He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”
You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.
“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 
You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.
His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.
“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 
“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 
You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 
He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 
You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.
He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 
Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 
“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 
He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 
“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 
“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 
“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 
You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.
He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 
Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 
“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.
“Mhm?” 
You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 
He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 
He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 
“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 
“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 
The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.
His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 
You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 
He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 
Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 
You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 
You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 
You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 
“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 
“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 
He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 
His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 
You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 
“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 
His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 
“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 
thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 
Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 
“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 
Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 
“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 
His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 
You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 
His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 
You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 
His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 
“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 
You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 
He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 
Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 
Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 
Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”
You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 
There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 
By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 
His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 
You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 
Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 
“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 
Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 
When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?
“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 
Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 
You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 
“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 
“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 
Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 
There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 
Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 
“S-Satoru–”
“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 
You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 
You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…
He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”
It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 
“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 
Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.
“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 
“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 
He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 
“Yes,” you whisper. 
His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 
He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 
“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 
He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 
Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 
His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 
When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 
His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 
He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”
You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 
He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 
“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.
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norikuna · 6 days ago
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NERDS DO IT BETTER ☓. ── ( 呪術廻戦 )
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⌗ turns out they're the best you've ever had, and you think you're gonna' have to come back for more!
ᯓ starring ─. jjk ensemble cast : nerd! gojo, nerd! geto, nerd! sukuna, nerd! nanami, nerd! toji, nerd! choso
𝓶𝓾𝓵𝓽𝓲. ㅤ﹑ ( 呪術廻戦 x afab!reader )  ─── ❛ cw ⌓. mdni. college au. risky, public séx. handjóbs. óverstím. hate séx. fíngeríng. fiíming (consénsual). édging. vírgin!kuna. óral (m). missiónary. soft séx. brééding kínk. créampíe. backshóts. óral (f). wc ⌓. 3.5k.
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﹙ 五条 悟 : gojo satoru ﹚ ─ advanced mathematics, physics
"oh, fuck!" gojo's absolutely quivering, throwing back a head of tousled, snowy hair, "that's, ouh, that's way better than i ever coulda' even dreamed of." pale-pink lips snapping sharp around another moan as he shudders, "can ya' do it again?"
you're clicking your tongue, doing your very best to bite back a flushed smile yourself. knowing that you've got the smartest, honour roll student pliant beneath you, his thighs splayed out and bare — the skin spottled with patches of rosy pink, dusted with fine white hairs. he's still got that campus sweatshirt on, rumpled over the askew collar of the dress shirt underneath. where you're eager to run your hands, to slide your fingers up past the low trail of hair on gojo's groin.
it doesn't hurt that gojo's, like, ridiculously gorgeous. thick-rimmed glasses foggy over vibrant blue eyes, framed by ridiculously long lashes. and you can see him gnawing at the inside of his cheek as your hand keeps at a steady pace. pumping him over and over, until thick ropes of seed are coating your hand. it must be the nth climax of his by now, but it seems neither of you are that eager to call it a day.
you smile at how gojo squeezes his eyes shut, glasses skipping askew so you can fondly kiss his forehead. titling his glasses right back into place, all while he bites back a low, rumbled groan, "a-another?" it's a plea, almost hopeful for you to milk his poor, throbbing cock until there's not much else it can give.
"mhm, i don't know, satoru. it's kinda' risky, don'tcha think?" you're trying to keep your voice down, knowing that anyone could round the corner here. they could move past the stack of chairs littered behind the physics subsection of books and old papers to find gojo spread out so sluttily over this chair, his pants drifting past his ankles while you lean over behind the desk to jerk him off. workshop questions and calculations long discarded as the most intelligent man on campus chases some form of pent-up relief from you, his angel that's solely heaven sent.
gojo's the type of guy that's always moving, whether he's skimming and flipping through pages of glossy textbooks or speeding over the butterfly keys of his steel-grey mac, and right now?
he's still in motion, tapping trimmed nails in staccato beats against the plastic table. drumming his fingers over and over as he does his best to not let you see the crystalline tears of delicious overstimulation pooling at the corners of his eyes. shuddering as you pull back, letting his big cock snap back, smearing a thin line of translucent cum against his blue sweatshirt.
cursing because he knows he's gonna' have to peel that top off before his next class, before anyone can figure out exactly what that stain is, "fuck, we still got 15 minutes before that lecture, yeah? one more, please, baby, jus' one more."
﹙ 夏油 傑 : geto suguru ﹚ ─ philosophy, sociology
"what did i say? eyes on the lenses, pretty girl." geto's determined and mean when he's like this, but then again, when is he not a cunt?
that bitchy nerd's always sniping at you, doing dumb shit like taking your seat in class and sucking up to the teacher — batting pretty, dark lashes at the tutor while throwing a nasty look your way when you get the answer right.
but as of this moment, there aren't any right answers in your head. not when geto's got you propped up in his broad lap. right in front of a blinking video camera, perched on a shaky tripod as he swirls his digits as deep as he can into your pretty, swollen pussy.
"s-sugu', feels so good," you moan, sinking your teeth into the plush flesh of your lower lip as geto's face softens for a split second before hardening once more. handsome features crinkling as he shakes his head of choppy, raven hair, "didn't ask if it felt good, geez. i asked for the answer to the question, or are we jus' having trouble following instructions as well?"
"hate ya' so, so much, still, i don' even remember the fuckin' question," you're sniffling, knowing that he's so deliciously knuckle deep within you right now. your clear, glossy arousal coating his fingers as he pumps the digits in and out of your heat with a satisfying squelch!
geto smiles, as though he wanted you to say that while he was rolling a fat thumb over your clitoral hood. berry lips pulling at the corners as he tuts, using the hand that was previously holding apart your thighs to slide a pristine paper over his bed, clicking his tongue before he intones, "tch', let me quiz you, again, 'cause we got that test tomorrow. though, 'm not sure it's much good. now, how would you explain structural functionalism?"
your mind's absolutely turning to incredible, pleasurable mush as you struggle to form coherent sentences. instead, staring at the blinking red light blearing out through the dark haze of geto's form room, and swallowing as he begins pulling at the sensitive ache of your clit, "it's, like, the premise of everything havin' a purpose. like, hahh, society being a well-oiled machine n' people are jus' cogs and — fuck! suguru, can't even focus like this."
your back is writhing against geto's toned chest, and you can feel the dark strands of hair that have escaped his hairtie tickling at your cheek, "i know, beautiful," he coos, almost as though he quite likes you, rather than the loathing that he claims, "now tell me, who's ideas does structural functionalism align with? answer quick, and i'll make ya' cum this time, promise!"
brain whirring on overtime to snap out a rushed breath, "emile durkheim!" your lips pouting as you heave in a candied breath of air, "that's right, isn't it? now you promised, so please! make me cum, sugu', fuck."
you can hear geto chuckle, "you didn't make me pinky promise, though?" and he's revelling in how you huff, and curse him out, "besides, i like watching you squirm all pretty for the camera. helps me remember my notes so much more. y'know that 'm gonna' go back and revise this later."
﹙ 両面 宿儺 : ryomen sukuna ﹚ ─ anthropology, history
"you're a virgin?" your mouth parting into a sweet gasp as charlotte tilbury leaves sticky strands of product stringing between your pretty lips. because, there's just no way...
sukuna's rolling his crimson eyes, and shoving his tattooed hands into the ragged pockets of his thick hoodie, "why don't we focus on the project again? y'know that the entire thing is due next week, and this is our last meet-up before we gotta' present?"
the burly, quiet man's clearly flushed — with his tanned cheeks painted awash in some watercolour, blushy hue. muttering something about insolent cheerleaders and how he's refusing to get a bad grade because of you. but you're never one to lose. you just cross your arms over your chest, and a little more firmly on purpose, just to watch sukuna gulp as his gaze drops right down to that shadow of cleavage, "hey, you're the one who asked if i was sleeping with the quarterback."
sukuna's just too easy, because for all his churlish, jerkish attitude, he's not immune at all to your easiest charms. like a pretty red lollipop, or a spritz of your favourite body mist, or when you hike the hem of your skirt up just a little bit higher to doodle faint hearts on your flesh. and now he's grunting, drawing his eyes away from your torso to gulp, training his eyes solely on the project rubric, "yeah. was jus' a question. i don't give a fuck."
"mhm, sure." snapping strawberry gum between your teeth, "because i'm not with him." you grin as sukuna stiffens, almost snapping the poor, thin frame of a cheap lead pencil between his thick fingers.
"no?" he sounds almost, almost sheepish. battered headphones clattering around his marked neck as he jerks, and you almost coo. for it's honestly quiet sweet at how interested he sounds. ironic, considering ryomen sukuna is one of the most surly men on campus. always with his nose buried in some medieval book, always some exemplary paper of his pinned to the student noticeboard about the heian era.
"no," you repeat, scooting just a little bit closer to his broad frame, "because 'm interested in someone else, ya' see. like you, 'kuna."
the pencil snaps, the wood finally giving out to the quick motion of sukuna's fingers clamping down on it. pieces scattering and littering the table as broken lead clutters, the remnants of a man who's just had his world rocked but doesn't want to admit it, "hah, funny," he's muttering, "yer' really interested in me?" all you had murmured was a tempting, alluring little phrase that would remain with sukuna forever, something like, "want me to prove it?"
and that's exactly how you ended up like this. eyes blown wide, little hearts dancing around your pupils as you took in the sheer size and girth of what sukuna was hiding in his faded jeans. lips parting to close over the weeping tip of his thick shaft, and grinning at how there's already sheer, salty drops leaking out.
"fuck, w-wait," sukuna's groaning, with his spiky head of two-toned hair thrown back against your desk chair, "it's sensitive." clacking his sharp teeth around a wanton moan when you tongue at the veins bulging on the sides of his cock, "already feels like 'm gonna –"
"cum?" you offer helpfully, flattening your tongue against him so he throbs, hot and heavy, into your mouth. releasing yourself from his cock with a loud pop! and you're sure glad that your sorority roommates aren't home, for you're not sure how to explain that you're dripping wet yourself, just from sucking off the most infamous, ill-reputed nerd on campus.
"yeah, yeah," sukuna rasps, a heady and low tone that escapes from his chest, "and that would be e-embarrassing, fuck, that's — that's a good spot." sighing as you trail teasing fingers over folded skin, right at the underside of the base of his cock.
"not that embarrassing, 'kuna," you shake your head, loosening the slick strand of saliva that was stringing away from your lips. replacing your mouth with an entirely different type of gloss, and one that you're growing increasingly fond of, "and besides, we got a lotta' time before my roommates come back. plenty of other things we can do, hah."
﹙ 七海 建人 : nanami kento ﹚ ─ economics
"but i jus' think numbers are kind of beautiful, wouldn't you say? like they have their own satisfying figure and precision?"
you smack nanami's chest, leaving a small, cherry hue over your boyfriend's pectorals, "your girlfriend is literally under you, and you're talking about numbers being beautiful."
he gives you an apologetic smile, thick waves of golden hair dampened with the sweat of exertion that was to be expected when he was delivering the sweetest, most loving strokes to your very core. thick, bulging tip kissing your cervix as nanami huffs, "sorry, darling. nothing's more beautiful than my girl, and, heh, yer' figure is the one i love the most."
"that's better," you gasp, feeling him rummage through your swollen pussy. girthy shaft bulging past throbbing, dripping folds as he delivers hit after surefire hit against your g-spot. but then, suddenly, you're frowning, "don't you have class, like, right now, babe?"
nanami squeezes his eyes shut, amber lashes kissing peach-flushed skin. "yeah, had some tutorial," he groans, drawing his cock out of you almost entirely before he's snapping his hips back into you with such force that there's a resounding smack reverberating through his bedroom, "but heh, they don't really need me there. i already know all my shit."
"and you won't get in, i don't know, trouble?"
your boyfriend shakes his head, pushing aside the stack of stock market magazines littered near your head, so he can slam his hand down on the soft quilt. all so nanami can steady himself as he has only one purpose in mind, to make you cum. to make you see such stars of pleasure that you squirt all over his cock. and he can already picture your fucked-out form, hazy and littered with the marks of his loving. and drenched down below.
well, anatomically, it mustn't be possible but at the mere vision, nanami can feel himself harden even more. like his cock is responding to the hypnotising grip that you've got him in. hefty balls tightening further and he's rasping in your ear, "can i —, fuck, can i cum in ya', darling?" desperate and falling apart at the mere idea, at the way your eyes flutter shut in bliss, "only if yer' also wanting me to, i swear. but please –"
"yeah. in me, kento. baby, all yours."
that's all it really takes for thick, stringy wads of hot release to spurt out from nanami's weeping tip. cock releasing strands of gooey seed into your cunt in a way that makes your boyfriend press his forehead against yours, littering a thousand kisses against your fucked-out, smiling lips, "thank you, thank you, thank you, darling. i love you so much. can't even put it into words, but i love you —"
﹙ 伏�� 甚爾 : toji fushiguro ﹚ ─ physical education, kinesiology
"what the fuck did you jus' call me, ma?" toji's got a blunt nail trailing down your spine, running over the curve of your ass, "a nerd?"
you're writhing, "yeah, yeah. i mean, that's what everyone says," and it takes every cell in your body to fight back the inevitable release that toji's bestowing upon you. for you're determined to delay this just a little longer, to feel toji's thick cock slam into you from behind over and over in a way that you never really expected from the grumpy sports major.
and it seems the idea amuses him, for you don't even need to turn around to imagine how his sharp, jade-green eyes must be narrowing at the knowledge of what everyone calls toji fushiguro behind his back. how toji's sharp, shark-like grin must be widening, sharpening knives to sink into your shoulder, "why? 'cause i don't do that stupid, attention-seeking sports shit like everyone else in my degree? 'cause i don't wanna' waste my time on the field or in the locker rooms?"
"t-toji, it's 'cause you always got your damn nose in a book. and i didn't even know you could —," you shriek, feeling his burly forearm come up in front of you, past your bouncing breasts to support your weight as he presses further into you, "i honestly didn't even know you could fuckin' read."
"suchhh a nasty attitude, ma," toji chuckles, and your ass pleasurably stings at the resounding smacks echoing through the (thankfully) empty gymnasium. your lace panties pulled to the sides as you're balanced over the bleachers right in the very corner where the lonesome toji fushiguro prefers to sit, where no one else can bother him.
but damn, if he's not getting off on the idea of taking you so prettily like this. don't get him wrong, toji loves this position. loves how nasty and filthy your pretty arch is when he's swabbing his cock against your pussy. but fuck, he also wishes you were flipped around for him. just so he could press a thumb to your lower lip, and watch your eyes go all silly and crossed for him. while he tacked the thick curl of dark hair around his groin to your sticky, throbbing clit. battered your pretty cunt with his inches until that feisty lil' attitude melted away into sugar and cream.
you moan, such a wanton sound, when toji's thick fingers are climbing up your throat. past your jaw to settle at your mouth. pushing past your lip so you can drool so beautifully for him as he does his level best to at least regretfully silence the sexy sounds falling out of your lips.
"careful, ma," toji shudders, feeling the tight heat of your cunt snatch his soul away, "wanna' keep the volume down so those rocks-for-brains football players don't hear what's going on here. unless, you want them to see how the nerd's practically plowing your brains out, hah."
the resulting clench of your cunt tells toji all that he needs to know, and he has to bite back the furious blush crawling over him, underneath his faded varsity jacket, "oh? that's how it is? well, okay then. hold on."
﹙ 脹相 : choso kamo ﹚ ─ lab medicine, psychology
you know better than to sass choso when he's like this, the night before the final semester exam. see, because the man's got your thighs splayed so prettily out for him. glistening, and dripping all over his bedspread. and to the side, he's got that damn anatomy textbook flipped open.
choso's frustrated, sighing and flicking the pads of his fingers against his tongue to thumb at the sticking pages. rolling his eyes when he isn't able to find the passage that he wants, as if that's your fault. but you don't miss the hungry gleam in the raven-haired man's eyes, the spiky knots atop his head coming loose as he delves right back into his favourite meal. his favourite study snack being your glossy cunt, for he could munch on the slick strands forever.
"bear with me, my love," choso's cooing, trailing a slender, pale finger up your sticky folds until he comes to rest at your clit. tapping the throbbing bud once, "jus' gotta' memorise this, and you're helping me so much."
he's pressing a chaste, quaint kiss to your pulsing clit. that dark mark stretched across his face twitching as he murmurs, "ah, think, choso! right, the clitoral glans has, hmm, 8000 nerve endings. and it leads up to..." choso's drawing slow, teasing circles on your clit and it makes you whine, bucking your hips, "patience, my love. i'll reward you extra special for helpin' me out like this. now, it leads up to the clitoral shaft — and did i tell ya' what the crura is?"
you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut as you rut against choso's handsome nose for some delicious friction, and he clearly seems eager to indulge you, though he's still lost in academic thought, "right. i guess, baby, you could say the crura are kinda' like the legs for the clitoris. and they extend allll along the pelvic bones."
choso's marvelling the glossy, sheer slick coating his fingers. licking a flat stripe right against your swollen, eager cunt, "and the glans, well, my extended answer needs to mention how they, uh, damn, baby. you're soaked." he's shaking his head again, "i keep getting distracted. the glans — they're the ones with the alpha-delta, and c-fibres, and that's what makes you feel so good. transmitting sensations y'see, i get extra marks for mentioning that."
you hazard a glance to the shining pages of the new textbook that choso's kept on his shelf all semester, "and the, uh, the pudendal reflex? you got a sticky note on that one, babe?"
choso smiles, slowly flicking your clitoral hood in up and down motions, each movement sending simmering pleasure through your groin, "a spinal reflex, m'love. helps with the involuntary muscle contractions, like when i do this —," flatting the pad of his thumb against your clit to run tighter circles against the aching nub, watching as your hips jolt up further against his face. coating the lower half of his features in translucent arousal.
"now, my favourite part," choso says, grinning as he turns his attentions elsewhere, to your dripping entrance pooling such a mess over his sheets. and your boyfriend's tugging at his grey sweatpants, "the grafenberg spot. i don't think my fingers will be enough to stimulate it properly."
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classyrbf · 6 months ago
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YOU'RE PREGNANT! — JJK MEN
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SYNOPSIS...how the jjk men(toji, gojo, geto, nanami, choso) act when you’re 9 months pregnant and ready to pop
INFO...jjk men x fem!reader, fluff, comfort, reader is pregnant (obvi), mention of mood swings, cravings, emotional reader, jjk men being great dads
OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated
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TOJI
toji has already dealt with this kind of thing before when it came to megumi, but it’s been so long that he’s almost forgotten what it was like. You’re waddling around the house, a stank look on your face as you stare at him. “Yes?” He questions, eyebrows raised. “I want food,” you simply answer. “Okay, what do you want?” He asks. And when you tell him you’re not sure, he lets out a long sigh because he knows this is gonna end in you getting emotional. You’ll complain your back hurts, your feet hurt, and then you’ll end up cursing him out for putting a baby in you. So all he does is walks over to you, and hugs you because he’d rather do that than get into a stupid argument about food. “Toji!” You cry into his arms. “I’m just so hungry and I don’t know what to eat!” You sniffle. To help with your problem, he starts listing off every fast food restaurant and food he could think of in hopes you’d find one appealing enough. “Chinese food?” He shrugs. You gasp with excitement. “Ugh, yes! Me and the baby could go for some orange chicken!” You smile. Toji just chuckles, “making the call right now, sweetheart.” He watches as you waddle over to the couch, smiling like a kid in a candy store.
GOJO
ever since he found out you were pregnant, he was at the stores buying whatever supplies he saw, doesn’t matter if you needed it or not. And till this day, when you’re about a few weeks from popping, he’s still buying the baby things. “What do you think of this, eh?” He smirks, holding up a onesie that says “my dad is the best”. “You’re gonna spoil her rotten, is what I think,” you groan as you reach into the bag to see what else he bought for your daughter. “More toys?” You hold up a fake set of plastic keys. Gojo snatched them from you. “I’ll have you know that she will be learning life skills at a very young age, thank you very much,” he scoffed. All you did was laugh, shaking your head at him in disbelief. Your daughter’s room was filled to the brim with clothes, toys, blankets, you were starting to wonder if you had any more room. “I can already tell she’s going to be a daddy’s girl,” you said with a sigh, rubbing your belly. “Yes she is,” Gojo leaned in towards your very plump belly, “isn’t that right?” He placed a kiss on your stomach.
NANAMI
nanami is the type that doesn’t let you do a damn thing by yourself. You’re reach for something to high on the shelf, he’s sprinting towards you, ready to be at your service. “Be careful,” he says, rubbing your back. “Kento, I got it,” you chuckle. His eyes are always on you, watching your every move. Especially when you’re in public, he hates when people get too close to you. He knows others don’t watch their surroundings and could easily bump into you. “Ken!” You shout from the bedroom. “Yes?” He peeks his head around the corner. “Can you help me get my shoes on, I can’t even reach,” you pout. Within seconds he’s on his knees, slipping on your sandals, and tying them around your ankle. He will even go as far as to paint your toes if you forgot because he knows how much you hate not having them done. Like I said, he won’t let you do a thing by yourself. “Thank you, Ken,” you kiss his lips.
GETO
geto literally pampers you. I’m not saying he acts like nanami, but I’m saying that he makes your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. “Sugu, baby, can you rub my feet? They’re swollen.” You frown. “Of course.” He grabs the lotion and casually massages your feet while you’re both watching a movie, and literally over the course of your pregnancy he’s become the best masseuse ever. He’ll also randomly creep up behind you and wrap his arms around your waist before lifting your belly, feeling the weight off of your back. “Feel better, mama?” He kisses your cheek. “So much better.” You nod, closing your eyes as you embrace the moment. You’ve even found it hard to shower while being pregnant and geto takes it upon himself to help you, albeit jumping in the shower with you or sitting on the edge of the tub while you’re in the bath. “Is the water too hot?” He rubs the soapy water over your shoulders. “It’s perfect.”
CHOSO
I’m sorry but choso is clueless. Not in a bad way, but in like a panicky way. You’re an emotional wreck through your pregnancy, moods swings like crazy. “Can you just get out please?!” You’re annoyed with him, bothered about the littlest thing ever and then in the next two minutes you’re walking out the room just crying and apologizing to him, kissing his cheek. He has no idea what the hell is going on, and you’d think he’d learn after nine months, but no. All he can is just sit there and comfort you. “It’s fine,” he assures. He gets your favorite food that you’ve been craving for the past two weeks, eating it non stop and then within a split second you’re gagging, pushing the food away. “Oh my gosh, Choso! Please throw it away, it tastes so bad.” You gag again. “But…I…you were just eating this yesterday…?” He’s says, confused before throwing the bowl of food in the garbage. Quite literally doesn’t understand anything, just confused to all hell, but he’s trying his best.
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street-smarts00 · 5 months ago
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in omnia paratus
Spencer Reid x fem!reader
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Summary: Spencer's been on the fence with his feelings for you. Due to his past traumas he’s decided to keep his feelings hidden. Until you’re caught in a dangerous situation at work
WC: 3.5 k
A/N: I am SO SORRY this took so long. I’ve been sitting on this for two months because I was being a perfectionist and had writer's block. Thank you so much to the person who requested this idea and I hope ya’ll like it! beta read by @whats-yesterday00
Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Protective!spencer, Friends to lovers, age gap (25 and idk 33 or 34), during season 9 (sadly no post prison Reid, I refuse to watch the show after Derek & Hotch leave), Maeve is implied 
Warnings!: mentions of murder, stalking, gunshot wounds, hostage situation and incorrect info about hostage situation cause Idk I'm not in the FBI
Everyone knew Spencer Reid had a soft spot for you. Well, everyone except for you. 
Since the moment you met you’ve been on his mind. 
“Do you know how old she is?” 
“No, how old is she?” 
“25!” Penelope squeaked before being shushed by Rossi. 
“Wow, she’s gotta be the youngest person to ever be in the BAU. Well, second to genius over here,” JJ commented while pointing to Reid. 
“That’s if she gets the job,” Morgan added. 
They were all crowded around the desks in front of Hotch’s office. The blinds were cracked and they could just barely make out the woman seated across from their boss for an interview. 
Due to the increase in caseload after Alex joined, Hotch made the request to add an additional member of the team. After interviewing a few people that didn’t pan out, he heard quite a bit about you from your supervisor saying how well you’ve done with the FBI and you’d be an exceptional fit for the team.
Then of course Penelope looked up everyone who was interviewing with Hotch. You being her most recent victim. 
“How long has she been with the FBI?” Alex questioned. 
“Three years,” Penelope answered 
“What? Did she join right after college?” 
“Not right away. She graduated early and got experience with law enforcement first.” 
Spencer sat at his desk quietly while everyone was peering into Hotch’s office. Not to say he wasn’t nosy as well. You were already behind the blinds when he arrived for work. 
“Oh they’re shaking hands! That has to be a good sign,” Penelope cheered. 
Morgan turned to the window, “It’s definitely not a bad one.” 
Her eyes widened before loudly whispering, “Oh no they’re leaving. Disperse.” 
She scurried off in her heels towards Derek’s desk while he followed behind with a grin. JJ, and Rossi averted their eyes from Hotch’s office and found Alex’s desk far more interesting. 
All while Spencer’s attention was brought to the woman led down the stairs by his boss. It felt like his heart stopped beating when he saw how beautiful you were. He was brought back to earth as Hotch introduced you to the rest of the team. 
“This is Dr. Spencer Reid,” he gestured to the man sitting at his desk. 
You offered him a small wave and a kind smile, “Nice to meet you.” 
It became quite obvious you two would get along very well. From very early on conversation flowed incredibly well between the two of you. There were very few people that he felt were easy to talk to because of his niche interests and the way he would ramble spitting facts left and right. 
But he never had to worry about saying the wrong thing or talking too much with you. You often were a content listener or you would even match his passion on certain subjects. Most were topics Spencer already knew about. 
When you first met Spencer you didn’t know the Dr in his name meant he held 3 PhD’s or that he was quite literally a genius. 
So you were often telling stories or facts you found interesting that he already knew. In fact, almost every “fun fact” you brought up, he knew about already.  
But he never interrupted you. He always was listening intently to what you had to say. Like he was hearing about it for the first time. 
At some point you learned of his eidetic memory and how vast his knowledge was. It was during a case where you found out and mentioned it to him. 
“Reid, remember when we were at the harbor and I mentioned that thing about sharks?” You hesitated, “did you know that already?”
“Yes,” he guiltily admitted. 
You partially deflated suddenly feeling that the whole tangent you went on was pointless. “Why did you let me go on and on if you already knew?” 
His eyes softened, “because I wanted to hear you talk about it.” 
That was when his feelings started to peek through. As the months went on it only grew and grew. And you were none the wiser.
To the average person, it might not seem like much. Perhaps you were just good friends. But to a team of profilers (and best friends) it was painfully obvious. 
It was almost painful the way he looked at you with a longing in his eyes. Or when his gaze immediately turned to you to catch your reaction or smile. 
It was obvious by the way he found any excuse to bring you up in conversation. Or how in conversation with you he would mirror your mannerisms and lean closer to you. 
As well as the things he remembered about you or the little things he did for you. Like the countless coffee cups he bought for you from his favorite coffee shop before work. And when he saw you struggling to find something or open something he was always right there to help. 
Spencer Reid had feelings for you. Feelings so deep that he couldn’t pull the roots out even if he tried. 
He didn’t know what to do with his feelings exactly. He hadn’t felt this strongly for someone since … well for a while. He was terrified of history repeating itself. 
He couldn't lose you. He’d seen first hand what this job did to him, what it did to Hotch. Their loved ones ripped away from them too soon.
So for now at least, he kept his feelings to himself. 
Well, until your last case. 
The BAU was called in on a case that just turned serial. They found the unsub to be a man named Mark, who started killing because his girlfriend cheated on him. The first two victims reminded him of the man she cheated with. When that didn’t satisfy him, he hunted down and killed the other man. 
Now the team and SWAT was stationed outside a bus that Mark was holding hostage. He stalked his ex-girlfriend and tracked down the new city bus she took. 
The officers couldn’t get a clear shot of him because of where he was standing and he kept using the passengers as shields. Rossi was currently on the phone with him trying to make negotiation terms and get some of the people off the bus. Mark however was incredibly stubborn and didn’t want to let his leverage go. 
So Rossi asked about the children on the bus and if Mark would be willing to let them off. They were met with silence on the other end of the phone, contrary to his previous behavior where he loved to hear himself talk. 
After a short pause the phone spoke. “I’ll only send out the kids if you send in an agent.” 
Rossi shifted his weight and crossed his arms. “Are there any other circumstances you’re willing to send out the children for?” he asked. 
“Nope,” he said with a pop at the end of the word. 
A look of concern was quickly exchanged between Rossi and Hotch. While their faces didn’t reveal much, their eyes spoke volumes. 
“How about this,” the unsub continued. “I’ll send out their moms too.” 
Rossi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the eagerness to comply from the criminal. “You’ll send out the children and their mothers if we send in one of our agents?” 
“I promise.” 
Rossi returned his eyes to Hotch who stood rigid and tall with his arms folded. He was met with an approving nod before returning to the call. 
“Alright, we can agree to those terms.” 
“Oh and agent Rossi?” Mark perked. 
“Yes?”
“Send in a girl.”
There was a tension that quietly branched out between the agents listening to the phone call. 
“Why do you want a woman?” Rossi asked, clearly changing the dialogue used.
“I’m losing too many ladies sending out these moms. I want one back,” he replied with a cockiness to his voice. 
Ross confirmed they could send in a female agent. Almost immediately after the unsub hung up, you volunteered to be the agent going on the bus.  
“I’ll do it.”
Spencer’s head shot in your direction. “No you're not.” His voice was laced with concern and a hint of demand.  
“Reid-”
“He specifically asked for a woman. We don’t know what he’s planning, he’s devolving.”
“And I’m willing to take that risk to make sure those kids are safe,” You defended yourself. 
You turned to your boss waiting for his thoughts. Hotch knew you’d been exposed to enough high tension scenarios to know what you were doing. But just like any member of his team, he silently hesitated, worrying for your safety. 
He took a breath before meeting your eyes again. “Send her in.” 
Right before you were led to the bus, Hotch took off the holster on his ankle and handed it to you. “Some extra protection in case something happens.” You couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, but you saw it clear as day in his eyes. 
You made your way to the bus and saw through the window Mark holding a gun to the driver and telling him to open the door. You stepped on and the doors closed quickly behind you. The unsub took a long look at you, panning up and down. 
“Well how about that. Aren’t you a beauty? He said with a cheeky grin. 
You tried your hardest not to look disgusted with him. Instead you kept your composure and spoke with courage and a confident demeanor. 
“You this flirty with all your hostages?” you asked plainly.
As he gazed down at your legs his eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. He bent down and with the gun in his hand, pushed away the bottom of your pants leg. When he saw the gun in the holster, he tsked. 
“You always carry this much dead weight on you?” 
He stood back up and put his hand out, “hand it over, I told them no weapons.” 
You reluctantly took off Hotch’s holster and placed it in the unsubs hand. Your one line of defense was gone. 
The longer you were on the bus, the more anxious Spencer got. He knew you were an exceptional profiler, and you had enough experience and skill to handle yourself in situations like this. 
But that couldn’t stop the ache in his stomach or the fact that his heart rate could power a car by now. 
He stood closer to the bus now to get a clearer view of the windows. They managed to successfully get the children and moms off and to safety, but you weren’t safe. Spencer figured you were trying to negotiate with the unsub, but that was going nowhere. This was confirmed when Rossi tried calling him again but every call was ignored. 
This unsub was stubborn as hell. He knows he trapped himself, but didn’t want to back down. At least he didn’t want to go quietly. 
Spencer was talking with the rest of the team trying to devise a plan when the gunshots were fired. The team immediately ran back to the cacophony on the bus. 
More shots were fired, he didn’t know where from. He didn’t care. 
He just needed to get to you. 
When he got a decent view through one of the windows that hadn’t shattered he saw you. Your hand over arm in pain but still standing in front of the civilians to protect them. The unsub stalking over to you, gun in hand and smacking you over the head with it. You slammed against the chairs and fell to the floor. 
Spencer's face paled. He swore he was going to throw up. 
Through the fog of his mind Spencer saw Morgan escorting Mark off the bus, his hands now behind his back in cuffs. 
He rushed past them, clambering through the door and up the stairs to get to you, calling your name. 
“Reid?” he heard your small tired voice through the crowd. 
He followed it to you, laying on the ground struggling to open your eyes and clutching your left arm. 
He crouched down to your level with a gentle hand on your uninjured arm. 
“Hey, I’m here. I’m right here,” he comforted. 
“My head hurts,” you mumbled.
His eyes softened, “I know. I think you might have a concussion, you need to go to the hospital.” 
You slowly started to fade out of consciousness. Spencer’s heart dropped and his hand moved from your arm to your face. 
“No no no no stay with me okay?” he caressed your cheek with his thumb.
“Stay with me sweetheart,” he consoled.
Your eyes stopped struggling to stay open and finally made their close. His other hand rushed to your pulse point as he called for a medic.
Time seemed to stand still while Spencer sat next to your hospital bed waiting for you to wake up. He couldn’t leave your side. He didn’t want to. 
You were okay. You were laying in the bed in front of him. But of course in his mind he ran through all the possible scenarios of how things could’ve gone worse, how things could’ve gone better. What would’ve happened if you didn’t have your gun taken away, or if the unsub got angry that you tried to bring a gun in. What if he didn’t lose his cool and start firing. What if you never went inside in the first place. 
And with all of those possible scenarios, the same thought plagued him. 
He was wrong. 
Before he was too scarred from past traumas to reveal just how much you meant to him. Not wanting to repeat the past and lose yet another person he loved cared for. 
But now, after seeing you in danger right in front of him, now he was terrified at the thought of you never knowing. He was now more scared you would never know how much he loved the way your nose crinkled when you smiled. How he thought the sound of your voice could cure any ailment he had. How he admired your strength and desire to protect others. How you could light up anyone's mood by just being you. How he could listen to you for hours, even if you were lecturing him on things he’d known like the back of his hand.
To him it was a whole new experience hearing it from you. 
Spencer was pulled from his thoughts as you stirred awake. He saw your eyes adjust to the bright fluorescent lights ahead. He quickly got up to dim the lights for you. 
When he returned to his seat you smiled at him, “hi.” 
“Hi,” he smiled back.  
“How are you feeling?” 
You sighed. “Like shit,” you complained with a hint of humor. 
“The doctor said you have a minor head injury, bruised ribs, and the shot to your arm thankfully didn’t break any bones.” 
“Fun,” you said sarcastically. 
A moment of silence passes between you two. He doesn’t exactly know what to say. How do you casually tell your friend and coworker you have a crush on them? 
There is no casual way. 
“You called me sweetheart,” you broke the silence. 
He furrowed his eyebrows, “What?” 
You fidget with the blanket, “earlier, when I passed out on the bus. You called me sweetheart.”
He searches his mind for the memories of the day. When he finds the memory he realizes in the heat of the moment the term of endearment slipped out. 
He wasn’t aware you heard it. 
“I did,” he confirmed as his ears flushed.
“Why?” you asked curiously. 
He didn’t know how to tell you that he’s wanted to call you that for weeks now. So instead he settled with-
“It just … felt right.” 
“Oh,” you replied quietly.
Spencer tensed up at your response. 
“If I crossed the line-“ 
“No. Of course not,” you interrupted with a comforting voice. 
The corners of your mouth lifted and cheeks dusted pink. “I thought it was sweet. You don’t normally say stuff like that.”  
His heart warmed at your confession and a smile spread on his face. 
“You thought me calling you sweetheart was sweet?” he lightly teased.
“Shut up,” you chuckled, rolling your eyes. “You know what I mean.” 
Your laughter was cut short by a sharp pain in your abdomen. You bit down on your lip and gripped the side of the bed in pain. 
The reality that you were injured on the job was rushing back to him. 
He licked his lips, his nervous unconscious habit. 
“I was really worried about you.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t,” he interjected. 
“The entire time you were on that bus I was sick to my stomach. Terrified that something bad was gonna happen and it did,” he started to ramble. 
You leaned closer to him. ”But I’m okay Reid.”
“You still got hurt. He shot you for christ sake!” his voice raising in pitch and volume. 
“Reid-”
“He lashed out at you! You could’ve died!” 
“Spencer,” you said firmly, pulling his attention towards you. 
He never heard you say his name before. No matter how many times he said you could call him Spencer, you still called him Reid. Hearing his name fall from your lips was like the consistency of honey.
You placed your hands on his face caressing his cheek. His golden eyes meet yours. 
“I’m alright. I’m still here,” you consoled. 
“But if-“
“Spencer.”
“Please,” he pleaded. “It’s important.” 
You nodded your head, signaling for him to continue. He gently grabbed your wrists and brought your hands in his. He took a deep breath before he decided to spill the thing that had been eating away at his heart. 
“I have feelings for you. I have for a long time. Almost as long as you’ve been at the BAU,” he started. 
With your hands in his he started tracing his thumb over your knuckles. 
“If we don’t have work I count down the days until I can see you again. When I do see you I desperately want to see you smile, see you happy. And if I’m the one that causes that smile, it makes my whole day. That’s why I never interrupted when you talked about something I already knew. The way your face lit up when you talked with such passion was the highlight of my day.” 
“For months I was scared of my feelings and I kept them to myself. I was too scared to admit how much I liked you because I-” his hold on your hands tightened.
“I know what it feels like to lose someone. This job takes so much from us; I never wanted it to take you.” 
Spencer let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. 
“Today I realized it would be more painful if I went the rest of my life not telling you, than having even a fraction of a moment with you.”
A moment of silence danced between you two. Your head reeling from his confession, heart beating so hard you could feel it in your bones. Your palms sweaty from holding onto Spencers, but still neither of you let go. 
The silence was deafening, plaguing him. 
“Please … say something,” he begged. 
Your lash line was collecting tears that you simultaneously tried blinking away. Your eyes found his tie less intimidating than his gaze.
“I never thought you would like me back,” you said with a soft tone. 
Spencer's cheeks turned red as his heart started melting. “I do.” 
You brought your eyes back to his. That precious smile on his face was infectious. 
“Listen,” you squeezed his hands. “I’m not going anywhere. So you have as much time with me as you want.” 
Spencer's eyes softened at your words. He raised your hands and placed a loving kiss on your knuckles. 
The two of you were too lost in eachother to notice the footsteps towards the room. 
“Hey, I found some Jello for her if she-” Alex abruptly stopped once she noticed what she walked into. 
You both awkwardly pulled your hands away from each other; you fiddling with the hospital blanket, him rubbing his palms on his slacks. 
“So, feeling better?” she asked hesitantly. 
“Much,” you answered, still a bit flustered. 
“Good, good to hear,” She tried not to sound too smug, but the small smile on her face said otherwise. 
She raised and shook the jello container in her hand. 
“I’m gonna leave this here,” she placed it on the table. “I’ll be back in a bit.” 
“Thanks Blake,” you thanked as she left. 
Once she was gone you quietly giggled and mumbled “oh my god,” under your breath. 
“You know, she kept teasing me asking when I was going to ask you out. And don’t even get me started on Morgan,” he chuckled, shaking his head. 
Your jaw dropped and eyes furrowed. “Did everyone else know but me?” 
He pressed his lips in a thin line, “pretty much.” 
“I must be a shitty profiler,” you half joked.
“Absolutely not,” he said in the most comforting voice. He brushed the hair that had fallen in front of your face behind your ear. 
“You’re an amazing profiler.” 
You smiled that smile he loved so much. The one where you couldn’t hide your joy and your nose crinkled. 
“So, how do you think you’ll spend all those moments with me?” you inquired with a bit of a teasing tone. 
“Doing anything sweetheart,” he answered seriously. He looked at you with awe written all over your face. “I'm ready for anything with you.” 
“in omnia paratus” - ready for anything
Tag asks: @adrienneleclerc @ladybirdbeetle7
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keen-li · 1 month ago
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Merry!Ex-mas.
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18+ MDNI
22.k words synopsis: you get a notification about plane tickets you purchased about a trip you were excited for, only reason you're not excited at the remainder, is because you had planned the trip with your now ex. At the time you never thought you'd be spending December broken up. So, it felt like a great idea. not so much now. ex!jk x ex!femreader (fem anatomy.) exes to lovers use of 'yn' warnings: angst, fluff, smut: long-distance relationship, exes, second chance, miscommunication, b*tches is awkward, tension, one bed, forced proximity, Jungkook isn't crazy rich but he's got good money, i think he's an accountant, jk has that short ceo hair cut. reader has communication problem, jungkook's freaking green sweater needs it's own fanfic!, think are!you!sure jungkook. protective!jk, there's a creep who approaches reader as jungkook is off skiing, and whilst she's in the sauna(nothing bad happens.), sweet!wants!to!try!jk, jk has issues of not communicating too. they just can't seem to talk. avoiding stuff. teasing. touchy!jk, secret glances. jealousy, reader is very jealous,they're lying to themsleves, jungkook loves to take pictures especially of reader. hot tub jungkook who's looking up at you like you're a goddes. very needy kissing, boob sucking, dirty talking, oral(f!receiving.), handjob, cowgirl, protected!penetration, aftercare. hand kissing. [i don't know what else i need to add, let me know] as per usual, it was edited but if there are any errors, forgive me. A/N: this fic is honestly cause of that Jungkook green sweater I've never travelled to please don't come at me if anything is wrong. I very much world built some things. I've given written from top to bottom so don't except a part 2, unless maybe drabble requests. I wrote this in one week and i'm so proud i was able to write 22k words, in that time. though i was supposed to go up on the 25th[shhhhhh] A/N: i'm still learning how to write smut. so if you think the smut is cringe please don't tell me :) i don't wanna know. unless you want to help me improve it, and you do it kindly, i'd appreciate. likes, reblog, and all positive asks and comments are always appreciated. i hope you're happy with this one. [read under the cut]
You get the notification as you're scrolling through your phone. A remainder of sorts that you had been forgetting something. Cause you had been.
It loomed over you all week. The lingering feeling of remembering what you can’t. You hated it. But now that you know it’s source you couldn’t feel any worse.
Being the recipient of the message, you’re burdened with having to translate the message. Why do you have to do this? Broken up, having to text him feels like opening a can of worms. But the tickets are non-refundable, and it would be unfair for you to not inform him. You did both pay for them, Jungkook of course paying more because he was just too stubborn to split. he'd actually wanted to pay for the full thing but you were at odds with the idea. he settled eventually.
So, it would be unfair to not tell him. Right? Yes. But you don’t want to believe it.
Even if how the hell are you going to remind your ex about the holiday trip you planned thinking you’d be together for; but in turn would celebrate separately. Before the notification of the trip.
To add on, now you have to open your chat. An action you dread to do; for your emotional health.
What are you actually going to say? You think, finger hovering over the keyboard. Something that won’t make you sound like you’ve missed him, were thinking about him or even thinking about going on this trip with him. All which you’ve been doing. You’ve succumb to the thoughts, only because you two broke up in October, still relatively early to just forget a 3-year relationship with someone you thought you’d marry.
Sigh.
You still haven’t answered the question of how you’re even gonna bring it up. Will he even answer?
“shibal” jimin laughs into the speaker, not helping you one bit. “you two are ridiculous.”
You roll your eyes still waiting and hoping he’ll say something sensible. It’s all in vain. “How the hell do you book a trip and break up just before. You couldn’t wait?” He laughs and you just know he’s sat at his computer playing games, from his loud and unfocused speech.
“We didn’t freaking know we’d breakup.” You justify. “Plus, cause of the breakup we forgot. I forgot.” Your voice loses its strength at the end of the sentence, your mind slipping into a deep thought.
You haven’t been able to remember anything of relevance since that day. Maybe only how to breath and live but you’d say your body takes full credit for that.
“Hmm.” is all he says to you before screaming obscenities to someone in his game.
“Jimin are you gonna be of any help or wh-”
“You know what you should do?”
You want to believe his following statement will be of use, but you can never be certain.
“Just send it” he groans from what you assume is an attack on him. Your brow raises. “Send him a screenshot of the notification. If he doesn’t respond go on it on your own.”
“Or take me with you” he whispers. If it came to it, would you even choose jimin to go with? Probably. He’d help make it fun.
You sigh, still in the darkest of analysis. It’s your best option what else could you say. So, you say your goodbye to jimin who is quick to go off to his game, without a second thought. Rude. Talking to him whilst he’s on his game is setting yourself up.
Back to having a staring contest with your phone. And after a long while of panic, thump fidgeting and dry eyes, you click on his contact (yes you still have it.) and just send the screenshot.
As you wait to make sure the picture is sent you catch a glimpse of the last text from your chat. You were avoiding slipping up and seeing it, but your eyes couldn’t be helped.
Jungkook was the last to text.
Kookie<3: I miss you call me back.
Seeing the text makes your stomach churn. Makes your head spin with all the memories and emotions returning. You don’t want to linger on it. You’re quick to just sending the screenshot like jimin said, you only hope he doesn’t ask too many questions. If he does respond. The little thought in your head surfaces. What if he wants nothing to do with you. What if you’re bothering him? You shouldn’t have sent that text. But it’s too late now.
You’re well aware his message was sent before you had broken up. The only reason you hadn’t replied was because you couldn’t. On the same day you’d called him back and told him how you didn’t think you’d be able to do it anymore.
“Mm?” he hums confused. You can hear it in his voice and it only makes you even more nervous to repeat.
“This long-distance thing isn’t working for us jungkook.” You bite you lower lip hoping to hide some of your emotions that threaten to ruin your speech. Your fingers fidget in the silence waiting for his response. But it never comes and for a moment you think he’s cut the call and you’ve been talking to yourself. That’s when he sighs, showing you, he’s been listening but too shocked to speak.
You calling his full name, no nickname, strains at his heart. “Are you serious?” it’s calm, sad even. Of course he’s sad, you’re breaking up with him. Sad isn’t even strong enough to describe what he’s feeling. Shock is just amongst them, maybe even a little anger. You’ve been going through a challenging period because of the difference in cities. But he never thought it’d come to this. Was it that bad?
“Yeah.” It’s weak defeated. You are, your whole relationship is.
Jungkook is awfully silent, he’s not sure why either. “Is there anything I can do?” he’s aware of the only solution available. But it’s not possible. Neither of your work will allow the other to move.
You shake your head like he can see it. but he doesn’t need to see what your silence has already said.
After not much thought cause he’s not able to, he speaks. “Is this what you want?” his question only serves to add to your confusion.
“You know it’s not but- “you try to speak but the lump in your throat chokes you.
It hurts him that this is happening over a call. Wishes he could’ve spoken about it in person, cause there’s more to it.
More that you haven’t spoken about. Never have, and doubt you ever will or want to.
All this just makes the idea of this trip even more worrying. That’s if he’ll want to go or even respond. You never got to know what he thought but you assume he has some sort of resentment for the way you ended things. You would too. That’s one of the things you feel guilty for.
You’ll say the way things ended was not ideal, and honestly it never made you feel good as you thought it would. It made you feel worse actually. But at least now you don’t argue because you don’t talk. Who are you kidding, you miss the arguments, something to remind he was there.
Guilt hovers but, you console yourself by saying that he probably wanted it too if he didn’t try to fight for it. Which is unfair, but what else can you tell yourself as an excuse.
Your focus is now on your screen. You’re about to exit the chat, but then those familiar popups of bubbles appear. Already?
The bubbles disappear and appear, which only serves to grow your anxiety. Is he about to rebuke you for texting him. Gosh, what the hell would you say after that? He’s about to cuss you out. Suddenly your room feels too small to hold you and what you’re feeling.
But what pops up is even more anxiety inducing.
Kookie<3: I’m in town. We should meet and talk tomorrow.
Why does he sound so professional? Why do you care. Oh- your mind, it’s spinning.
He’s in town, when? Why didn’t he tell you. This would be the first time you see him in a year since he moved. And he couldn’t even just tell you he was in town. The reason to him being here is not unknown to you. It’s the Christmas season and his parents do live in the same city as you. And just like you they were not happy about they’re son moving so far away. But nothing was stopping jungkook. Nothing.
You’re probably not important to him anymore but, couldn’t he have just said, hi. I’m in town. How long has he even been here for? You never thought he’d return to the city even for the holidays.
You shake the thoughts out of your head. You can’t be over thinking this.
We?......meet?.....talk?.....TOMORROW!              
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Tomorrow couldn’t come any faster (not that you were excited for it.). It’s almost as though it wants you and jungkook to meet.
You both agreed to meet at one of the small restaurants near your place. One you two frequented together, so it holds so much for you. Which only made you more anxious on your way.
When you walked in your eyes unconsciously moved to the table you and jungkook loved to seat at. It was good distance from the kitchen so your food could reach you quicker, and far from others so that jungkook could lean in and say the nastiest thing on earth. It always made you blush even though you’d swat at him. You spot jungkook sat where he usually sat. Coat taken off and hanged on his chair.
 “Hey.” You choke out smiling politely as you reach the table and take off your coat, the inside of the restaurant too warm to be comfortable with it on.
You take a sit and allow your body to get accustomed to the environment. And jungkook.
He’s quick to respond to your greeting just as awkward.
When you’re settled you finally get a chance to see just how much he’s changed in a year. The warm light from the ceiling softens his features which would normally be sharp in the dim lights of your bedroom. His hair is cut short. Last time you saw him it was neck length, but now it’s significantly short. Makes him look professional, mature. You like it, really like it. you wish you could just reach over and touch it, it’d probably be just as soft as you remember it and smell like lavender. You notice how he has it styled and gelled back so you doubt he’d be happy with you running your hands in it.
Jungkook spent an ungodly amount of time trying to get it to look like this, which he doesn’t think is perfect enough, but he was running out of time. Something about this meeting had him wanting to go out. He just hopes you like it. he remembers you last saw it when it was longer. It was a big cut, but after your breakup, he felt like giving up the length, considering your hands loved to live in his hair.
You sit hand in lap waiting for your mouth to catch up with how fast your brain is working. Though if you did speak what your brain was thinking, you’d embarrass yourself.
“We should order first.” He says rolling up the sleeves of his navy-blue denim shirt. The action reminding of the inks on his arm. A detail that adds to how attractive he is already. You’re really hating yourself for your thoughts. In your defence you haven’t seen him in the flesh for a year. “What do you wanna get?” he picks up his menu and you do too, stuttering in your movement. He seems calmer than you right now.
But the only thing is that he’s shitting himself inside. when he was sat before you came, his heart dropped every time he heard the door bells chime. Every time he turned it wasn’t you. Only increasing his nervousness. Maybe he was a little to forward with his message. You haven’t seen each other in a while and it’d probably be overwhelming, especially with a certain elephant in the room. He would’ve definitely understood if you didn’t want to show. On the chime of the door that followed his thoughts, he didn’t turn, only for it to be you. In your full glory, making him fidget with his phone more. Which he put aside immediately you sat down.
Clearing your throat you speak, “something soup-y. Today’s a little cold.” And you don’t feel like throwing up what you eat.
Jungkook agrees and his red nose is evidence of that. Cute, you think.
After your orders are taken you turn back to silence. What could you probably say right now? You can feel the distance between you emotionally. And you hate how this is how you are after not seeing each other for a year. Before breaking up you thought of the many ways, you’d hug him once you got to see him. You were definitely delusional over how serious your distance was. Really wanting to believe it wouldn’t be a problem; until it became one, and you just couldn’t do it anymore.
You don’t know how to behave right now.
“So, when did you get back?” you settle on a soft and casual tone.
“Just yesterday.” He speaks sounding a little hesitant. After not knowing where to look you decide to just look at one thing. The table.
After beats of silence, you continue. Can your food come any faster? “you’re staying with your parents?”
“Yeah.”
You lived together, in your used to be shared apartment before he decided to move. So, his only option was to live with his parents for the mean time. He assumed you wouldn’t want or even let him live with you. And it would be fair, you aren’t together anymore.
“I’m Sure they were shocked to see how much you’ve change.” Cause you are. You haven’t seen his parents in the same time that he hasn’t seen them.
“It was a surprise drop in so I’m sure they were” he says with weak chuckle. He bites into his lip before he’s looking at you again, but you don’t stare at him. It’s only when you realize his stare that you finally face him. “How have you been? You look well.” He’s dreading himself right now for not being able to speak to someone who has been, for 3 years, the only person he could speak to.
You do look good, and he can’t take his mind off it. the camera has not been doing you justice. Your skin looks brighter and you generally are just glowing. Gosh he missed looking at you. The way small dainty jewellery serves to compliment your outfit. Your hair done in a way you like, and he loves.
“I try.” You smile. Every chance you get you take a glace at his lip piercing. You’d forgotten just how it made him even the more--. “You look well too. How’s the job going?”
He sucks in a breath, showing visible stress at the thought of his job. “it’s going okay. Easiest way to put it.” he chuckles, awkwardly. You smile, awkwardly too. “I missed it here though, so much stuff I left behind.”
You just hum, nodding. Avoiding how his eyes glancing over you, just for a second as he was looking for where to keep his gaze whilst speaking.
“But I’m sure you’re having fun that side.” That side. He can hear the strength you put on the words. Instead of fiddling on your lap you decide to fold your arms on your chest. Finding it appropriate for the feelings that are sneaking in.
“You can say that, but there’s just something that feels empty y’know.” You do know, but you both choose to leave the conversation implicit.
And right on time, your food arrives saving you from saying anything. What the heck would you say when you can’t even think.
You two are soon digging into your food. Jungkook in his kimchi jjigae and you in yours.
“I missed this- mmm.” He hums making that little angry face he makes when he likes food. You laugh, a little to loud at that causing him to look up at you. You drop your smile.
“Mrs Kim always asks me about you when I come here.” 6 slices of chopped spring onion garnish you haven’t eaten, yet.
He leans back in his chair, unintentionally watching you eat.
He turns his head towards the kitchen where the lady in question usually spends her time. “Where is she anyways?” he’s back to digging into his food. the steam from the food warming his cold nose.
“she’s visiting sung Hoon in the US.” You inform him, taking in how relaxed you’ve become.
He nods at the info, “Ahh- she finally got to got to the US?” he smiles. He remembers how she would come to the table; she’d complain that her son doesn’t want her to visit, which was not the case. But being the dramatic lady she is, she would think that. “ ’m sure she was so excited.”
“no one could hear the end of it.”
He chuckles and you find yourself laughing too. But as much as you’re seemingly getting comfortable (though not wholly.) silence finds a way to wrap it’s long, cold and slimy finger around you two.
After you’re done eating your meals in silence, jungkook thinks it’s time to discuss the reason you’re even meeting. Cause you have nothing more to talk about.
“what’s the plan for the trip?” he shifts in his seat. “Assuming you’d want to go.” He doubts.
You take a deep breath before speaking, looking over at the whole scene of the restaurant. “I don’t know, we’d leave on Thursday. Assuming you’d want to go too.” You would want to go, that’s why you booked the trip. It’s only your situation that makes it awkward.
“Do you?” his question comes out fast and sudden and he regrets how quick it came out.
“Mm?” you mutter like you couldn’t hear what he said.
He clarifies choosing to speak more calmly and composed. “Do you want to go?”
The question takes you aback as though you hadn’t been asking yourself the same thing.
Reaching to play with the little gem on your necklace you stutter out. “I-I mean- yeah we spent money on it.” you shrug your shoulders as if you’re unconsciously saying otherwise, but really, you’re just trying to keep your statement open. In case he doesn’t want to go, and you’re left embarrassed with an extra ticket.
Jungkook instead takes your action as you probably not wanting to go. “I get it if you don’t. It’s a weird situation.” His hands move to touching his hair.
You trying to jump in but end up speaking a little too fast. “No, I do. Plus, I hate wasting money.” You do hate wasting money, truly. And it is just that and the fact that you would love a trip right now, to de-stress.
“But do you want to go with me?” that churning feeling in your stomach is returning, and you’ve just eaten which makes it all the much better.
Biting down on your lip and releasing it you say, “I mean I wouldn’t want to go on my own.” You hate how you feel your throat choking up. “Who else would I go with?” you awkwardly joke. There are some people you’d go with. But you planned this trip with jungkook and he paid the much for the tickets. So, it’s only fair to go with him. If he wants to.
He skips your question, not in bad taste. it’d be weird for you to go on a trip you planned with him with someone else. Maybe he did think of it, that maybe you’d enjoy it more if you weren’t with him. But then he thought it through. Shit doesn’t have to be awkward unless you both make it. so, you can enjoy this trip if you just agree to enjoy it. “I don’t mind going with you, but I don’t want you to feel forced to have me there.”
“I have no problem with you, jungkook.” You saying his name even though it’s not the pet name he enjoys feels like a warm touch to him. “I just want to know if you wanna go.” You find it in you to ask.
“I don’t mind it at all.” He says, relieving you of your fears.
He sighs. After he silence speaks. “I can’t believe I forgot about it. I was so excited for it too.” he reminiscing on the day. It was such a good idea. Is a good idea, if you just agree to enjoy it.
“So? It’s settled right?“ You sit up grabbing your stuff and preparing to leave. Jungkook’s smile falls realizing that the moment is ending. But he will see you soon still.
“Yeah.” He prepares to leave too.
“We leave Thursday, I guess. We’ll stay in touch.”
And that’s it, your conversation ends with you managing to avoid the larger topic at hand. It’s like a game.
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You throw your clothes in haphazardly. You’re in a panic, which is not necessary cause you have enough time, the whole day to be precise. Your flight’s tomorrow. But the whole airport thing has always found a way to make you panic.
You grab some essentials, but in frustration. Maybe you just want to get it over with. The packing, not the trip. Honestly it feels like it’s already started. Is this how you’re going to be.
As you search through your closet you land on a sweater, one you remember too well. It’s green colour and fluffy soft texture makes it the warmest thing you own. A very memorable sweater, for the warmth it brought you and its origin. You can still smell him on it. You dread packing it and resort to shoving it further in your closet. You’ll think about it.
You stare at your zipped up suitcase for a bit before your eyes gloss over to your phone that buzzes on your bed. For a split second you wonder if it’s jungkook. Could he have changed his mind. you sigh relived when you see it’s just jimin.
Who chooses to say nothing of value and just tease you. “Honestly why do I tell him these things.” You throw your phone on your bed.
Jungkook stands over his already packed suitcase. He just has to zip it closed and seal this trip. He sighs rubbing his lower lip. Before you two broke up he had so much planned for this trip. So much he wanted to say and do. But it's different now and it’d be weird and wrong to say those things. Not before talking of course.
Is he looking forward to this trip? Yes-wait- maybe. The trip in itself is fine, a great and good idea and opportunity to enjoy a holiday and relax. But your presence entails something more something he has to deal with (in a responsible and good way) and that he's been running away from.
 "You're excited huh?" his mother smiles leaning against his door frame, watching. He's not sure what about his facial expression, body language or general demeanour would make her think that he's excited. It’s not like he’s dreading or regretting it. it’s more like excitement is the last thing he’s feeling cause of all he’s thinking of.
He doesn't say anything before she's speaking again.
"You need this trip. you've been so busy." He has. Too much at that. So much that he forgot you two had even broken up and was about to go to your place first when he arrived. He’d been so excited to surprise you, then it dawned on him. His tires were quick to turning. His thoughts are cut short by his mother. "it'll help you spend more time with yn."
"I guess." he replies unenthusiastically. Though it’s the same idea they’re both thinking of it in a different context. Something that his mother doesn’t know yet.
He doesn't stare at where she stands only at his suitcase analysing what he's packed and what the heck is actually going on. "Plus, it would be a perfect place to propose." She enthuses, joyous at the thought. He seems to have slightly forgotten about that detail too.
 When you were planning the trip, he made a plan to propose to you on it. It honestly is the perfect place to and he felt like it was the right time. Of course, you'd be arguing but it wasn't something that was holding back your relationship. Plus, he thought you'd talked it out well enough. So, he spent his free time after planning the trip, shopping for rings and looking proposal ideas and even asked some of his colleagues for advice. It’d be a trip where you got to spend some time after being away for so long.
But that's when you called and honestly kicked him in the balls. Too confused he just went along with it.
"Switzerland is such a good choice, you kids are so good at these things." She says probably imaging herself there too.  It’s not long before his eyes are staring at the black velvet box on his dressing table, and his head is spinning all over again. He knows how excited she gets about this and she won’t stop. “You could take a walk and then pull out the Ring with those mountains in the back and-"
"Eomma!" His deep voice stops her, not harshly but whiny. Not telling his parents about the breakup is honestly the most overwhelming thing because of how his mother adores you and finds a way to bring you up in every conversation. she could go on but the tired look on her son's face makes her stop. She wants to pry on why he looks more drained that ecstatic but she chooses against it.
”Is something wrong?”
He realizes just how carried away he’s getting with his emotions. He shakes his head. “no. I’m just stressed.” He finally looks up at her to give a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes but she returns.
"Sorry, you know how I get carried away. I'm sure you have your own plan let me not stress you."
She leaves and he sighs
No. He has no plan of his own. He has no plan at all.
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Your suitcase handle is firmly clutched into your hand as you walk into the airport.
Your eyes scan the crowd. Every face. Each bag too, because you know which one he'd probably be carrying with him. Seeing it again is gonna be triggering cause the last time you saw it was the last time you saw him off.
You and jungkook agreed to come separately and since his parents lived closer to the airport he'd be here first and wait for you by security. But now that you're there you can't see him. Maybe he's a little late but why wouldn't he tell you.
You told him you had just arrived but he hasn't even seen that message. Has he changed his mind? is the first thing that pops up in your head. If he has that's a shitty way to do it. Just ghost you?
So, you pull out your phone to call him. “Pick up." You mutter under your breath.
No answer.
You feel stupid. It honestly feels like you're on a Lifetime show or even worse TLC.
Your annoyance bubbles over as you glance around the busy security area. "Where is he?" you ask yourself.
 Though you think he has, you doubt jungkook would just ghost you. It's not what you know him to be. You tap your foot impatiently and try to call him again. Still nothing. Your heart finally relaxes when you spot him already walking to you. "Seriously?" You say a little upset when he finally reaches. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"
"Oh. I didn't hear it." He says pulling it out of his pocket. "Must be on silent. I’m sorry." He looks at you genuinely so. And you can’t bring yourself to be as mad as you want to be. It’s not a big deal, he’s here now.
“it’s okay, we should get going, we’re almost late.” You say frustrated with how traffic delayed your arrival. Jungkook just hums agreeing and surprising you by taking you suitcase. You’d tell him it’s fine and you can manage but he’s already walking ahead of you. Probably not wanting to hear it.
A tense silence stretches between you two as you wait to board your plane. Sitting side by side has never felt so awkward, like the space between you is miles wide. You scroll through your phone, pretending to be so into it. You don’t notice Jungkook stealing occasional glances at you. Or rather, at the sweater you’re wearing—the one he gave you (more like you took.) just before he moved to another town. The green complimenting your skin. He loves how it just melts to fit you. He’s glad to know that you’re warm, he’s aware of how incredibly warm it is.
He wonders if you’re wearing it deliberately, or if it’s just because it’s the warmest thing you own, and today’s even colder than yesterday. Probably no meaning behind it. At least, that’s what he tells himself. Though it’s not enough to stop him from developing a smile on his face, one he covers with his hand.
The low hum of voices and the faint crackle of the airport announcements fill the silence. Someone walks past, dragging a squeaky suitcase, the airport noises the only thing between the two of you.
“I know this is awkward.” He starts randomly, at first doubting he was talking to you but then you move your attention to him, when you realize it’s only you he can be talking to. It’s not like you were looking at anything on your phone. “I want us to enjoy it. I want you to enjoy it.”
“I want you to enjoy it too.” You find yourself speaking before your brain can process.
He smiles and turns to meet your eyes. All of a sudden, he feels so close. “So can we just pretend.” His eyes don’t move, if possible, they stare even deeper into yours. Yours don’t move as well. “Pretend like everything’s okay.” He speaks low as if he doesn’t want others around to hear. “Agree?”
You haven’t said much, instead just let him speak. “Agreed.”
You don’t mind pretending. You’ve been pretending you’re okay all this time, so why can’t you do it now.
-
You watch Jungkook sliding the bags into the overhead storage above your seats. He notices you approaching and nods for you to have the window seat.
“You sure?” you ask only because he called dibs when you planned the trip that he’d be getting the window seat.
He nods. “Yeah. I know you like it more than I do.” You do. He only called dibs because he was trying to ‘one up’ you like everything’s a game.
You squeeze passed him get comfortable in your seat and he’s soon sitting next to you. You’re glad it’s just two seats.
You sit in silence for most of the flight, each pretending to be too absorbed in your own activities to notice the other. Jungkook watches you out of the corner of his eye as you scroll through your phone, then switch to reading a book. This trip can’t be that bad, you tell yourself. Of course, you two haven’t talked about your breakup, but it doesn’t have to come up. You’ll just enjoy the weekend and go back to normal, like he said—pretend---if either of you even knows what that means.
What are the boundaries of pretending.
At some point, you shift in your seat, leaning against him, your head resting on his shoulder. You’re asleep, of course, but Jungkook glances down at you, momentarily startled. He considers waking you but decides against it. Instead, he leans back slightly, letting you stay there.
As the plane hums softly and moves through the sky, Jungkook can’t help but wonder if this trip could be his chance to fix things. How does he want it to happen? Does he even know? All he knows it that you do eventually have to talk about things. Do you even want to talk about it, because you seem to be avoiding it.
But there’s only so much avoiding you can do.
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As soon as the plane lands, you stretch in your seat, surprised you managed to sleep for that long. Glancing at Jungkook, you watch as he pulls the luggage from the overhead bin. He looks like he didn’t get any sleep at all, you had been sleeping on his shoulder for most of the time. You exchange a brief look—just acknowledging each other and your present moment—before heading off the plane
The crisp Swiss air hits you as you step outside the terminal, and you follow Jungkook as he gets into a cab and it drives confidently toward a car rental area, which you’re confused about but don’t ask. Jungkook picks up keys from the reception and you walk through the parkin lot looking for what you don’t know. You’re just following. You stare at him puzzled as he dangles the keys. He’s been quiet, and you hadn’t even expected to rent a car. Public transport seemed like the plan, but now that you think about it, you remember how Jungkook feels about it.
“You rented a car?” you raise a brow.
He nods, “yeah, it’d be easier. Thought you’d approve.”
He catches a glance of your face, like you’re trying to figure something out, but can’t.
“Hmm.” You only hum.
“You look cute when you’re confused”.  He takes you by surprise. “Come on.” He says walking and not letting you process his words. You just try to shake them out of your head.
You don’t admit it, but you're impressed. He thought ahead. And you’re honestly glad he did—something you feel he’s been lacking the past year.
Once he’s done packing the luggage into the car, he closes the trunk and slides into the driver’s seat. You’re not sure why you’re shocked to find out it’s a Mercedes-benz g63 amg. You’d always known he had an obsession with luxury cars, especially ones like this. The fact that his job pays so well certainly helps, you guess moving out of town must’ve been worth it.
The car is great-- so comfortable, and the heater works perfectly, keeping you warm against the cold.
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As Jungkook adjusts the mirrors, you scroll through your contacts, trying to figure out what to call the person you booked the cabin with, “what do I call them a host?” You mutter under your breath before dialling the number.
Jungkook glances at you as you speak to the host in quick tones. "Got it, thanks," you say, giving a quick wave of your phone toward Jungkook. With the directions noted you can now get to moving.
"Okay, so we head north, then take-“
“North?" Jungkook interrupts, starting the engine. "Are you sure it's not west or whatever?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
You glare at him. He glances at one map and thinks he knows his way around Switzerland.
"I just talked to the guy," you say flatly.
Jungkook smirks, recalling a past trip. "Remember last time we travelled, and we ended up on a dead-end street?" he says with a cheeky smile on his face. he’s teasing you.
You roll your eyes at the memory. You had been driving through the outskirts, and your GPS got wonky, causing you to go down a deserted road.
“If you’d listened to me, we wouldn’t have gotten lost,” you reply.
You stop bickering, finally following the GPS. Jungkook decides to follow the directions, and the tension eases as you leave the city behind.
The atmosphere shifts, replaced by a sense of awe at the breathtaking scenery. Low-capped mountains stretch into the horizon, Swiss chalets dot the landscape, and the sun reflects off the lakes. You’re glad you arrived during the day; cause nighttime would not have done the view justice.
You watch out the window, your voice filled with awe. "Oh my gosh, it's so beautiful." Jungkook glances at your direction before returning his attention to the road. "Yeah, it is," he agrees, equally mesmerized by the view.
"Can you grab my camera from the back?" he askes. Recalling his passion for photography, you can’t be surprised he has it with him.
You pull out the camera from his bag, noticing it’s larger and more expensive looking than the one you had gifted him. "Do you still have your other one?" you’re curious.
He knows what you’re hinting to. "It fell in water during a fishing trip with my team, but I'm getting it fixed."
“Do you still have the pictures.” You’d hate to lose them, even though they are null and void now, you still like how happy you looked in them.
“Yeah. They’re in my SD.” He informs you and you’re glad.
You fumble with the new camera, struggling to operate its buttons, he notices. "There's a button just there," he directs. Though you aren’t much of a photographer, you manage to snap some decent shots of the scene. You take a lot to make sure you have options.
Feeling playful, you turn the camera to jungkook and snap a pic of him. You had always admired his model-like features and often joked he should pursue modelling instead of his current path, which kept him 218 miles away. But now you realize modelling would only take him even farther.
He never agreed to the idea but never argued either. He preferred to appreciate beauty rather than be the centre of attention.
"Did you just take a picture of me?" he asks, a hint of surprise in his voice.
"Yeah, just one," you reply.
He doesn’t respond, leaving you to wonder what he’s thinking. Is he upset? Did you cross a pretending line?
"Wanna stop and take pictures," he grins, "y’know for your Instagram."
It’s not a bad idea, but you don’t want to be late and have the host waiting for too long.
"We won't be long." he looks over to see if you’re considering. He smiles when sees that you are. You don't post much on Instagram, and he knows that. But it wouldn't hurt to have some pictures from this trip.
"Let's be quick," you accept.
He pulls over to the side of the road and when you’re out he’s approaching you to take the camera. "Let me take some of you first," you insist. He isn’t so keen on it though.
"Just a few," you whine dodging him trying to take it from your hands.
"We're supposed to be quick." He reminds you. "And you know I'm not a fan of pictures of me."
 You not wanting to bicker. You hand it over to him. "But I will take pictures of you eventually," it’s a promise.
You quickly get posing on a spot you like, and he snaps several pictures. Some you were prepared for, while others were candid of you looking up a bird flying over, like you’ve never seen a bird before. or just in awe of the scene behind. Why do the birds seem so majestic here?
Jungkook smiles as he continues to take photos, forgetting the time. "I think that's enough. We're going to be late," you say, running out of poses to do.
You start walking to the car and he snaps one more picture of the scene before getting back and starting the car.  Whilst adjusting to the warmth he hands you the camera.
"These are so pretty," you bulge your eyes out at how good jungkook is at taking pictures. You can definitely see the difference. Jungkook can’t help but feel a sense of pride. You scroll through the camera, admiring more pictures.
Then you scroll a little too far and notice a series of photos featuring a friend—someone he seems to be close to. In one, she leans on his shoulder, a gesture that causes some type of discomfort or irritation. You couldn’t be sure, you’re too busy scrolling. She smiles too hard, you judge.
gosh you're pathetic. Why are you acting like this. The man is not your boyfriend he can do whatever. The statement causes an unwanted sour taste to form over your taste buds.
You continue to scroll, analysing the photos, each one deepening your insecurities.
"Careful, you're gonna damage the buttons," Jungkook jokes when he notices your rushed movement. He wonders what has you that way.
When he speaks, you’re brought back to reality. Though you’re brought back with an attitude. You switch off the device and lay it back where you found it, sitting back down with a scowl on your face and jungkook wonders the cause.
You had been fine just a moment ago. He doesn’t say anything and focuses fully on the road ahead. The silent drive to the cabin feels anything but aesthetic.
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You sigh as the car slows, leaving behind the snow-covered path. When you approach the cabin, it’s instantly recognizable from the photo. At least you weren’t lost or scammed. The place looks serene. It’s blanketed in snow. It’s not like those huge family ones. It’s small just to fit you and jungkook. You’d have no money to buy anything or activities if you booked those larger ones. And they’re unnecessary cause it’s just the two of you.
Jungkook parks the car, and as you both step out, the awkwardness that’s shadowed the trip returns. It had been there from the beginning, lingering beneath exchanges and strained silences. Brief moments, like taking pictures earlier, had been relieving, but even that had soured quickly. Now, neither of you had much to say.
The cabin’s host, a kind older man with a thick Swiss accent, greets you warmly, showing you around the cozy interior and pointing out the back patio before leaving. Once alone, you both quietly bring in the luggage. The silence is deafening, broken only by the crunch of snow you step on.
Due to your irritation that some how still lingered you step a little too hard on the icy ground, and in an instant, your foot slips. You land awkwardly in a mix of snow and dirt, the impact cushioned but still hurting.
“Are you okay?” Jungkook calls, his voice tinged with concern and amusement. He’d drop the luggage to come check on you if you hadn’t brushed him away with your hand.
Still irritated, now cause of the fall, you dust yourself off and move yourself inside. You drop the luggage in bedroom and start taking off your sweater, only to have Jungkook walk in moments later.
“One bed,” he states, looking at the large, centred piece of furniture. “Looks comfy.” You seem to have forgotten the cabin was lover’s themed, so it did only have one bed. The host had asked you if it was a problem when he saw the look on your face but you just brushed it away at you being tired.
You glance at the bed, then at him. “Yeah. Guess you’ll have to take the couch,” you joke, though your tone comes out flatter than intended.
“Nope.” He flops onto the bed, which creaks under his weight, making him pause to check if it’s broken. When it holds, he relaxes. “I’m sleeping right here.”
You sigh, deciding it’s not worth arguing. You’ve shared a bed before—it shouldn’t be a big deal so many times at that. But those times are not now and you have to deal with your new circumstance.
“I’m gonna take a shower,” you announce, expecting him to leave the room. Instead, he sprawls comfortably on the bed.
“Knock yourself out,” he replies casually.
Groaning, you grab your toiletries and head to the bathroom. The hot water feels like a gift, relaxing your tense muscles. If only the whole trip could feel this peaceful.
When you return, Jungkook is gone, though his shoes by the door confirm he hasn’t gone far. You search through your suitcase for a sweater, only to realize you packed just one sweater—the one now wet and dirty. Frustration bubbles as you grab a thin, long-sleeved shirt. It’ll have to do, though you doubt it’ll keep you warm in tomorrow’s outdoor activities.
Meanwhile, Jungkook in the kitchen has immersed himself in exploring the layout of it. whilst on his expedition his attention drifts to a tiny blue bird minding its business outside the window. He leans into it but carefully not to scare it away. Thankfully it doesn’t seem to find him a bother. “Got any advice for me?” he murmurs, taking a peek behind him. The bird doesn’t react, oblivious to his internal conflict. He’s unsure—about you, about himself, about what this trip is supposed to accomplish.
When you enter the kitchen and done talking to his new friend who doesn’t present him with anything viable but his company, he’s quick to point out the lack of groceries. “We should go shopping. It’s on your itinerary, right?” he teases lightly.
You nod, unsurprised he remembers. You’d always been the planner, the one who thought of everything. Maybe that’s why the breakup hurt so much—it came so suddenly, leaving no time to plan how to feel or move on.
As he’s about to suggest leaving immediately, he notices you rubbing your arms. “Aren’t you cold?” he asks, gesturing to your thin shirt.
“I’m fine,” you reply dismissively, though you clearly aren’t.
“Put on a sweater before you get sick,” he insists. His boyfriend instincts linger, even now.
You hesitate but eventually admit, “I forgot to pack an extra one.” The way how stares at you is so embarrassing for you.
Jungkook chuckles softly, though not unkindly. “Of course you did.” You roll your eyes. He moves to grab a sweater from his suitcase and hands it to you. “Here. Borrow this.”
You take it, the faint scent of his cologne that seems to be on everything he wears no matter how much he washes, invaded your senses. “Thanks,” you say quietly, slipping it on and hoping not to ruin this one too.
By the time you return from the store, exhaustion settles in. You both sit in the living room, cups of hot cocoa in hand. Jungkook flips through the channels while you sit quietly, the warmth of his sweater and the fire calming you.
“You’ve made a lot of friends in Jeju,” you say suddenly, your tone sharper than intended.
Jungkook pauses, confused. “What friends?”
“Colleagues, maybe? Customers? I saw the pictures on your camera,” you admit, staring into your cup instead of at him.
He leans back, waiting. He knows what you’re referring to and could explain that the woman in the photos was a client a little too excited and touchy about her wedding rehearsal photos, and had wanted photos with him. But he wants you to ask.
Instead, the silence stretches, filled with unspoken questions—questions about Jeju, the photos, the breakup, and even yourself. You sigh, pushing them aside.
“is there something you wanna ask?”
“There’s nothing I want to ask,” you finally say, though the bitterness in your voice betrays the truth.
Jungkook laughs softly, shaking his head. “I thought we agreed on pretending.” His voice is still soft.
“I know. Just don’t want you pretending if you’ve got other things going on.”
Jungkook chuckles taking a sip of his cocoa.” I’m good.”
“I’m good too.”
“Good.”
You watch him stand a sly smirk adoring his face. “let’s go back to pretending now, okay?” he says looking at you.
You mumble a sure and he walks off. Probably to sleep.
Sleeping the same bed is even more awkward. After spending some minutes you’d decide you were too tired to be awake, you came the bedroom.
Jungkook was still awake staring at his phone, and for some reason shirtless. He likes to sleep shirtless and the tension between you two isn’t going to stop him.
Jungkook tries to keep his eyes to himself as you change into your pajamas. You didn’t want to be childish so you just changed right there. It’s nothing he’s never seen before. He won’t act like the action doesn’t cause a rise in memories and he holds himself to not thinking further. Soon you’re crawling into your side and laying facing away from him. Jungkook chooses to lie on his back, the bed big enough for you to keep your distance. He turns off the lights but your eyes remain open staring into the dark.
As the night continues, none of you are able to fall asleep. Jungkook tries to make himself comfortable, his shifting cause you to think he might be moving closer, but he doesn’t. why do you feel sad. Your brain is used to being close to him and him holding you in situations like this. And he too is used to wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer into him. But there’s none of that.
“I can’t fucking sleep.” he groans frustratedly sitting up. He runs his hands in his hair. He looks over at you thinking you’re asleep, the darkness preventing him from actually knowing. He’s jealous at the idea of you being able to sleep, but when your frustrated voice sounds, he’s relieved. Relieved that he’s not the only not able to sleep.
“Same.” You mutter remaining on your side.
Jungkook huffs and puffs contemplating on asking what he’d been debating. Your bodies are probably used to sleeping closer to each other, so maybe that’s’ why it’s hard. You surely won’t mind if it means you get to sleep right?
He looks over to you and how far you seem from. He doesn’t like, hates the reality of it. “Can I sleep closer to you.” His words and the fact that he actually said takes you aback. You freeze. Your silence is killing him, he shouldn’t have said it. he should take it back, well—but he’s already sai-
“Okay.” Okay? Well, that was easy, he thought you’d be looking at him weird. but no, you just lay on your side waiting for him.
When he said closer you never thought he meant this close. You’re the closest you can be. But you don’t mind it, it actually brings you that giddy feeling, like it’s your first time cuddling. You realize just how much you missed it. He nuzzles his face in your neck and this is when he’d kiss your shoulder and neck but he doesn’t and the detail is gravely missed. He has to hold himself from not doing it.
“We’re going to move to the middle of the bed, darling.” It’s only then that you realize how much at the edge you were. You shuffle yourselves and move into the center and get comfortable in the position.
“Are you comfortable?”
So much you hate to say it. You can’t even bring yourself to be angry. “y-yeah.” You can barely respond coherently with how his voice is so close sending goosebumps all over you.
“Can I put my around you? It’s the only place I can put it.” he tries to explain, but you were actually hoping for it.
You nod for him to go ahead and he wraps his arm around you. Honestly, he should’ve just asked if he could cuddle you, because this is basically what you’re doing. He didn’t have to mask it; you’d have said yes either way. He doesn’t know that though.
Now that you’re close to him and him to you, you both weirdly fall asleep, very quickly at that.
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First thing on your itinerary was to visit the Lindt home of chocolate you’d been drooling at the thought of it since you planned this trip. It would honestly be a crime to visit Switzerland and not visit the Lindt factory. Being a lover of chocolate no activity on your list will be as good as this.
“I don’t know why they have us putting our bags away.” Jungkook whines taking off his jacket, as required and placing it in a locker. “How am I supposed to carry my chocolate.” His speech is almost childlike. You just chuckle.
 ” That’s why they do it.” You inform him, with a soft smile and start to walk ahead of him. Jungkook walks behind you, watching how you look around with wonder.
Did he mention how good he feels right now. The sleep he had last night was the best he’s had in a while. And it only serves to tell him how much he’s missed your presence. Just you as a whole. Being away from you for so long has had an effect on him too. It’s only now, that he’s not able to do all the things he used to do, that he realizes how much he’s missed it. And how much you mean to him.
“Oh my gosh.” Jungkook watches how you take in the aroma of chocolate. It invades his senses and when you’re turning around to check on him, he’s nodding. You want him to enjoy this just as you are.
You gasp and it’s when you spot the huge chocolate fountain that you pull Jungkook’s attention to it by his arm. “it’s so fucking huge.” You say still holding onto him.
“that’s what she said.”
You roll your eyes. “Grow up.” You both laugh. and it’s when you’re lost in laughter and admiring the fountain that jungkook looks down to see you still holding his arm. So, in a swift action of no thought, all instinct he moves to hold your hand.
Your head sharply moves to look at him then at his hand holding yours and then back up at him. He’s got this innocent smile on his face and you can’t help but warm up into his hold. You don’t mind the action of holding hands but you fear what it implies. Is he for real or still pretending?
For the first minutes you stay holding hands, until jungkook is pulling away to grab his camera. You rub you hands together to try and regain your sense of independence. What the heck are you doing, holding hands? This pretending thing Is a good idea, but it’s definitely messing with you in some way. All ways. He’s giving you things that you’ve been craving. The cuddle at night, the holding hands, you’ve missed it all. But you don’t know where it’s coming from, does he miss you too or is he pretending. To think of it you never really discussed what type of pretending you’re doing. Are you pretending to still be together or are you pretending to be good friends. Gosh this is so stressful. And confusing. You wonder if he’s stressing like you are. He seems calm. He’s handling this so well.
“Wait—I need a picture of you. Stand still.” He points the camera to you and you’re quick to turning your head away.
“it’s fine you don’t need to-” snap.
He doesn’t give you the time to object and just snaps. “Jungkook stop taking pictures of me.” He doesn’t. you’re embarrassed to be doing this in public. But he seems thrilled. “Okay wait-” he doesn’t so you choose to reaching for the Lense. But jungkook doesn’t mind filling his storage with pictures of your palm. “Kook, wait.”
“Kook?” he questions smiling. You realize your mistake. Honestly you didn’t mean to call him that, it just came out naturally for you to get him to stop. And it worked. Though now it shifts the air.
You groan. “I didn’t mean it like that.” You roll your eyes. You don’t even know what you’re saying.
He doesn’t linger on it more, which honestly helps your case. The blush on your face is deserving of a picture. Snap.
“Stop that before I revoke your privileges.” You threaten. He doesn’t want that.
He raises his hands in surrender. “won’t do it again.”
You ignore him and turn to keep walking.
“Can take more later though?”
You don’t answer, but he takes it as a yes. You’ve always been his muse, it’s not gonna stop now. His camara is now getting some action.
This place is actually so beautiful, smells amazing too. The pictures you saw did not do it justice.
“Look at the strawberries, the nuts. Ah—I’m in heaven.”
Jungkook smiles as he watches enjoy and pointing for him to look at the large container, of everything that goes well with chocolate. He’s really just happy that you’re including him, by telling him how much you freaking love this place or how you want to stay here forever. It makes him feel like things aren’t all that bad between the two of you and it can be fixed.
“Why are you looking at me like that.” You narrow your eyes at him. Gosh he forgot how long he was looking for. You’d been telling him something but he zoned out.
“Oh-nothing.” He clears his throat.
You just brush it off, cause if you linger on it, you’ll melt. Jungkook looking at you has been a weakness for you, there’s just something about him focusing on you and having only you in sight. “Anyway, I was saying try this.”
He doesn’t regain his consciousness before you’re bringing a spoon full of chocolate to his lips. he takes it, tasting the sweetness of it.
He licks the chocolate off his lips when you pull away. “Mmm….so good.” You nod glad that he likes it. Though way he’s looking at you makes you think he might not be talking about the chocolate. You choose to ignore your thoughts with a cough.
As you go on you learn facts about chocolate and the factory and jungkook takes the pictures. When walking around you make sure to not forget to collect little pieces of chocolate from the dispensers. And it’s not long before your hands are getting full.
When your expedition is over, you’re returning to your bags to stuff them with your treasure.
“This is a lot of chocolate.” Jungkook states.
You shake your head. “it’s not that much.”
“Yeah of course an addict is telling me that.”
You gasp. “I’m not an addict.”
“Tell that to all the money I’ve spent buying you chocolate.” Money which it didn’t mind and loved spending.
“Honestly that’s all on you.” You say raising your hands. He chuckles.
Getting tired you both decide to go by the café inside the factory. Whilst there you both order some food to eat which is not chocolate, except you. For your beverage you picked to drink the famous hot cocoa. Which tastes like heaven made it themselves.
“How do I take this home with me?” you say motioning to your drink.
“Just stay.” He meant to say you both could just stay, but his tongue tripped.
You nod, thinking about it. “I could.” Moving to Switzerland and living here would be a dream. But unfortunately, things aren’t that easy. Finding a job would be hard, plus the language barrier would kill you.
“don’t.” he’s almost pleading. “I don’t know how I’d tell your family I lost you to Switzerland.” More like he doesn’t know how he’d fix things.
“Honestly it’s no competition.” You say in deep thought and analysis.
“What? you would leave me for Switzerland?” He says it not realizing causing you to chuckle. And when you look at him, he gets it.
The conversation doesn’t go farther after that. Jungkook just stays in his thought. When jungkook had made the decision to move. He honestly thought it wouldn’t be that bad. He’d plan on maybe moving you out to him when he settled down, but your job was a very hot topic. At the time he hadn’t realized how serious it was. But now he does.
If it was you moving, he’d be just as hurt. And it pissing him off that he hadn’t realize the impact.
For your second and last activity for the day, cause of the way time just flies by; is the largest indoor flea market.
You spend your time there; just looking around, eating, and buying stuff. During your move you make it a mission to take pictures of jungkook. And you do manage to take some good ones.
He also finds an opportunity to ask about your work and how it’s going. And if that co-worker that bothers you is still around. He’s glad to learn that she did get moved to another department. He’s happy with whatever makes you comfortable.
As you’re talking, you’re approached by a couple, older but not old and tourists as well. They ask you to take a picture of them and jungkook is glad to assist. When he’s done, they’re happy and offer to take a picture of you too, jungkook wants to decline the offer assuming you wouldn’t want to but you’re quick to accepting.
“you two look so lovely together.” The lady says and you have no clue what to say apart form an awkward thank you. You wouldn’t blame them for thinking you’re a couple, not with the way jungkook is smiling at the picture.
“Grow up kook.”
“What?” he whines. “It’s a good photo.”
You roll your eyes before walking away. He follows behind you, smiling.
-----
Soon your day on paper comes to an end and you’re returning to the cabin.
You did not know what to expect of your day in the morning. Your night was okay but would the rest of the day go the same? those were some of your thoughts. But to your pleasure the day went well, great even. You just hope it’s the same for the rest of the trip.
Jungkook is on cocoa duty (not assigned but he took the responsibility.) and you’d be lying if you said he didn’t do a good job at it every time.
Leaning against the counter holding your mug and watching him finishes up with his own, you watch.
“How’d you like the Lindt factory?”
He takes a sip before answering. “Great. Honestly enjoyed it more than I thought.”
“What? You don’t trust my judgement?” you watch as he leans on the counter opposite from you.
“it’s not that. Just never thought I was that big of a chocolate fan.”
You hum. Silence fills the kitchen as you’re just enjoying the drink. Why does the air feel so thick, is it the way he just leans there. Pajamas not doing a very good job at hiding his physique. Why the hell does he look buffer. Gosh, his arms look like they’d lift and lay you to your demise. In the morning you caught a glimpse of his shirtless torso, and you were about to lose your cool. To add gasoline to the fire he had just stepped out the shower and had not completely dried. Geez, if it wasn’t for your ability to leave the room, you don’t know what you would’ve done or said.
Jungkook has always had a keen eye for your little frustrated looks, the way you don’t blink, the way you wrap your hands around yourself or how you cross your legs. He knows. It’s the details he’s aware of. No one knows you like he does.
“I like this sweater on you.” He says pointing to the green sweater you’d just gotten back from the dry cleaners.
You look down at it. “Because it’s yours?” you raise a brow as you take a sip of your cocoa.
He shakes his head looking your body up. “no. because you look good in it.” He’s biting his lip, then his playing with that little lip ring. Yn, hold yourself.
You choke out a chuckle. “Jungkook.” It’s a warning for him. But he doesn’t take it.
“What? It’s not my fault you look good in all my clothes.” gosh you’re gonna die choking on this liquid. “Makes me want to just hand over my closet to you.” He’s coming closer to you, gosh what the fuck, he approaches but it’s the sink you’re standing in front he wants. You move. He rinses his mug, tired of the drink.
“Well, that won’t be necessary.” you say sliding away from his towering figure. Just to catch your breath, cause you’ve been holding it. Jungkook laughs at the movement. Just after, you’re rinsing your cup and placing it in the cupboard. You’re not gonna die choking on cocoa, or jungkook as a matter of fact.
“Think I’m going to bed.” You state thinking the bedroom will be your only place of solace away from him.
“Me too. I’m getting sleepy.”
You’re stiff as he walks behind you. You hope you’ll be able to sleep on your own tonight. Cause if jungkook just as much as touches you, you’ll turn into a puddle.
You’re quick to moving to your side and facing away from him as to not see him taking of his shirt. You know because you hear it drop.
“Goodnight.” He says turning off the light.
With all your might you mumble a goodnight to him too.
Tonight, you manage to fall asleep without cuddling. You sleep back-to-back close enough to feel the heat radiating off the other.
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Jungkook wanted, so badly to go skiing after seeing an advertisement for it and saw some people do it on your way to the cabin. You’re not one for these intense sports but since he went with you to the Lindt factory, you thought it’d only be fair to go as well. Just accompany him.
Though his won’t be sweet and rewarding.
“You wanna go with me?” he asks teasingly and you shake your head, as soon as you process his words.” come on.” He whines.
“I’ll just cheer you on from down here.” The process of skiing looks terrifying. What do you mean you had to go on those zip line things, and slide down. Not you. Nope.
“it’s not that bad. You’ll be with me.”
Though it sounds comforting it doesn’t change anything. “I’ll just stay here looking around and taking pictures for you.” You smile hoping it convinces him.
He chuckles, his bunny smile on show for you.” baby what are you so scared of?” the pet name comes out smoothly, catching you by surprise. But it does seat itself in and warm your heart.
“it’s just scary.” You wrap your arms around your body.
He sighs watching you closely. “Fine, but can we do something as exciting, later.” He stares at you scattering your brain for what he could be referring to. “Like ice skating.” Oh—he was thinking ice skating. Last night has your mind in a whirlwind.
“That sounds better.” Jungkook laughs cause it’s basically the same thing, but he won’t get into it.
“Okay then.” He says walking to the register. “we’ll do that later.” It’s a promise.
Jungkook is off skiing and you’re sat in doors, still able to watch the outside activities, landscape and events thought the large window. You don’t mind not going skiing, it’s not like it was on your list.
While you’re sat you decide it’d be a good time to call jimin and let him in on your trip so far.
“it’s not as awkward, anymore. It was at first. But then we just agreed to just enjoy the trip for the sake of our money.”
“The sake of your money?” he mocks.
You choke out a laugh. “Yes, for the money.” Is it? “he’s been nice and all. It’s actually not bad.” Jimin hums as he listens, this time at least you have his attention.
You’ve shockingly enjoyed the trip more than you thought, so far. If you just keep on, the whole trip could go well and you’d be back to your normal lives. You hate the sickness you feel at the thought. The trip will end, it is gonna end and you’ll be back to what you were before. Gosh.
“Sounds like the trip is going a little too well.”
You scoff. “it’s not that, we’re both just chill.”
“No fucking or kissing.”
You gasp and look around like someone could’ve heard that, but your phone is to your ear. “jimin! Oh my gosh.” The thought of it has you blushing still.
“Just sayin’. Jungkook’s probably dying. ”
You roll your eyes. He’s fine, you’re fine.
You go on talking but soon you have to end the call. Immediately you cut the call and stuff your phone in your pocket a figure sits next to you. Male, not jungkook. You pay no mind to him. you’re on a public bench anyone can sit next to you. He’s just in his own business. Is what you think until he’s reaching over to talk to you.
“Exciting isn’t it.” when he speaks you catch his foreign accent, not Swiss. Must be a tourist like you.
You awkwardly furrow your brows. “Huh?”
“Skiing.” He points.
Then it clicks that that’s what he’s talking about.
“I presume.” You say modestly. Why the heck is he talking to you.
“Presume? Haven’t you gone?”
“no.” You shake your head chuckling. “it’s not for me.”
“You can’t say that. You haven’t even tried.” You internally roll your eyes. Why does he seem to care so much. “Plus, why come to Switzerland in the winter and not try skiing.”
You don’t know why you carry on this conversation, but you feel like justifying yourself. “Honestly I just came for the Lindt factory.” You say shamelessly causing the stranger to laugh. he doesn’t seem like a weirdo or creep, but you can never know. He’s probably not talking to you out of pure interest. So, you try to keep your distance.
“you’ve been?”
“Yeah. Yesterday.”
He hums sound interested and you know this conversation isn’t ending anytime soon. “How was it?”
You scoff internally. “It was fun. Would recommend you’ll love it.” You don’t even know him; how would you know he’d like it. And to be fair you’d add that Jungkook’s presence made the place more exciting to be at. You assume he doesn’t have a jungkook. Speaking of jungkook, how long is he going to be? You should’ve just gone out on a walk instead.
He nods. “Well maybe you can show me.” You pause, okay now you’re starting to get uncomfortable. “I’m sorry I don’t mean it like that. It’s just that I came alone and it would be nice to have someone show me around.” He justifies but it doesn’t make you any more comfortable. “I’d pay for your ticket if that’s the issue.”
You chuckle. “I’m a tourist to, there’s not much I can show you.”
“I mean you’ve visited the Lindt, so you know more than me.” Gosh he’s so adamant.
You smile awkwardly wishing jungkook would just pop up.
“you’d be better off going with someone else.” You’re looking around as if you’ve lost something. The man catches on to the action.
“Am I making you uncomfortable.” Yes. very.
“No-” before you can finish your lie of a statement, Jungkook’s interrupts, voice anything but kind.
“Yes, you are.” He says firmly, body not open for discussion.
The guy turns to look at you, then jungkook, then back at you. “Do you know him?”
Hesitantly you respond. “yeah” you debate on what to say. “He’s a friend.” He is isn’t he?
Friend? Jungkook chuckles internally. “Excuse us.” He spits out to the man.
The guy is taken aback, but just stands. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” You just nod and give him an awkward smile as he walks away.
You sigh relieved that he’s gone.
 You and jungkook share a glance before he’s sitting down.
“Friend?” Jungkook asks when he sits next to you.
You raise a brow. “What? you wanted me to lie?”
“Lie?” he says even stronger. You don’t know what he’s pointing to right now.
“Are you parrot?” You chuckle trying to get smart with him.
Jungkook scoffs at how you avoid his eyes. “You couldn’t have said I was your boyfriend.”
“But you’re not.” You spit out a little quickly.
When you turn to look at him you catch how his jaw clenches. And if you weren’t arguing right now, you’d think it’s the hottest thing. “But you could’ve just lied so he leaves you alone. Now he’s probably going to try to approach you again.”
“he’s not going to.” You say naively.
Jungkook is getting frustrated with this, a little more than he should. “I know guys like that, he’s going wait for a time when I’m not around and attack.”
“Attack?” you laugh at his word choice. Your laughter only serves to his anger. “You’re being dramatic”
“I’m not being dramatic, I’m being serious” his statement comes out a little strong and louder than you’d like
“don’t yell.” You warn him and he apologizes. “I get you feel like you need to protect me, but relax.”
He laughs at the way you think. You thinking he’s feeling like he needs to, no, he needs to. He wants to.
“I don’t feel like, I need to, I want to.”
You don’t say anything, he knows he’s got you, what more could you say. There’s nothing. Jungkook is the protective type, has always been. He’s shown you that many times in your relationship. And then, it made sense but now you feel like he shouldn’t have to bother himself with it. You’re not his responsibility anymore. “We should get ready to go for lunch.” you stand walking away.
Jungkook follows after you, knowing you’re now gonna give him attitude. Your folded arms are evidence of that. He’d normally just kiss the attitude away but for obvious reason he can’t.
-
“you’re not gonna ask how skiing was?” He tries really hard to open the air for conversation. He hates it when you argue. So, he tries to everything he can to lighten the air.
You stare down at your food. Your eyes not meeting him once. “How was it?” you don’t even sound interested which you hate because you are. You love to hear jungkook talk about things he loves.
“It was great.” He explains not into going into much detail like he wanted to. Your energy demoralizes him. “I’m sure they’re still open if you still want to try. He suggests but you’re quick to shaking your head.
When he’s about to say something, he’s getting interrupted. It’s a girl, the one he met when skiing. She showed him around some routes since she’s a local.
“Yn, this is Lena. I met her whilst skiing.” He says introducing you. “Lena this is yn, my friend.”
Fuck now you know how bad it stings.
“Hey yn. How are you liking you trip so far?” she asks politely in an accent.
You stare her up, taking in her features. She looks about your age, and gorgeous. Why is your body so rigid. Speak. “Umm- hi-I’m liking it well enough. Thanks.” you can hear how stiff and awkward your speech is. Gosh yn she hasn’t done anything to you, chill. Smile.
Jungkook breaks into your awkward encounter. “I’m gonna be seeing you at the ice rink, right?”
He says and she smiles a little too hard. You roll your eyes. What does he mean he’s gonna see her there. Is the a you and him trip anymore? Your food doesn’t look as appetizing anymore. “Yeah. I’m there often during the holidays.”
The way her voice rings in your head is jarring. Make it stop.
Soon your prayers are answered and she’s leaving. Though unlike her your heavy heart stays.
Jungkook turns to you, still staring at her route of exit. “You, okay?” your eyes return.
You shift your eyes to your hands. “Yeah, I’m just tired.” You stand from the table choosing to leave. “I think I’m gonna stop by the cabin.”
Jungkook is confused. But he just takes you as you are.
“Sure, let me get-” he threatens to stand.
“no. I’ll just take a train.”
He sits down. If you want to be alone it’s best if he lets you be.
When you get to the cabin, all alone. You find yourself falling into deep thought.
The pretend play you and jungkook are playing is good for you to enjoy the trip, but you won’t deny how much it only covers your true feelings. You play pretend and feel all these feelings as though you’re still together and then the trip ends and you’re sucked into being apart.  And it’s him leaving all over again.
You’re getting sick of it. There’s only so much pretending you can do.
Jungkook: ice skating later today?
He wants to be sure you haven’t changed your mind.
Not matter your emotions you still want to enjoy the trip.
You: sure. Meet you there.
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When you make it to the ice rink, your mood is still tense from lunch, which is your fault for holding on to the emotions for so long. To only sour your mood more, you spot jungkook talking to the Lena girl from lunch.
You roll your eyes and watch how she giggles a little too hard at something he says. Jungkook is a funny guy, but she shouldn’t be laughing, whatever he’s said can’t be that funny. This is so irritating. Why the hell is she even here.
When jungkook spots you, he has on a huge grin, but the sour look on your face has him dropping it. He thought maybe you wouldn’t be still upset by now. But he’s wrong. “Yn you’re here.” He says it like he wasn’t expecting you and you weren’t meant to be here, or that’s how you hear it.
“We made plans, didn’t we?” your tone is nothing more than flat and irritated.
“We did.” He turns. “You remember Lena?” He turns to point at her, like you can’t see her. Why’s she looking at you.
Oh, could you forget her. “I do.” You jeer.
“Hi.” she with her perfect smile. You’d liked to punch it in—your of course—you’d never actually so it.
“Hey.” It comes out awkward and strained. Wanting to get things over with you turn to jungkook immediately. “what’re we doing now?”              
“Um. We’ll have to get the skates.” He turns to Lena for some type of consultation, you scoff.
 “Yeah, this way.” she says turning to lead the way.
Jungkook turns to you, your folded arms the first thing he sees. He stands next to you. “You get here okay?” you didn’t arrive together which means you had to take public transport, which he knows you don’t mind but he just wants to check on you.
“Yeah.” You mutter before walking ahead of him. Do you even know where you’re going?
You want to enjoy it, but the emotions that are ahead of you block you from doing so completely. And of course, Lena is a pro at skating.
Jungkook is fairly good, for someone who’s just taken it up. You’d attribute that to his quick learner personality.
You on the other hand are struggling, and it’s pissing you off. You hold on to the half wall and glide. There’s a good amount of people around and honestly, it’s embarrassing. -like- there are even small kids better at it than you. It’d be better if you just stopped. There are probably other activities you could do. Ice skating (or skiing) is not the end all be all of Switzerland.
Jungkook would probably enjoy skating more with Lena, seeing that they skied together earlier. You question why jungkook even ever liked you in the first place. You’re not cool like Lena or even as adventurous, you do try but you don’t feel it’s enough. He’s better off with someone like her. It’s good you broke up so that he can be free to do whatever. The thought stabs at your heart.
Jungkook spots you from where he is walking out. The look on your face anything but happy. He’s swift to skating to you, making sure not to bump into anymore with how fast he’s moving. “Where you going?”
His concerned and soft voice only intensifies your frustration. Could he not see how irritated and bad at this you are. He was probably too busy to notice. He’s always busy.
 “You haven’t even travelled the while ring.” He chuckles awkwardly as you step off. He follows.
“I don’t know, I’m just not feeling it.” You don’t even dare look at him, because you know if you do your frustration will win and you’ll end up yelling or crying. And both are too embarrassing to do in public.
Jungkook scoffs. Jungkook can’t tell what’s going on with you but it’s definitely disturbing your ability to enjoy anything. He wants you to enjoy. But what’s irritating him is how you don’t want to communicate what you’re feeling to him. He’s always made himself a safe space for you to open up. But you never take it. Ever since he m0ved you’ve been distant, physically and emotionally. It’s frustrating cause all he wants is to be close to you in all ways. “You were not feeling skiing and now you’re not feeling this?”
Is he blaming you for not enjoying this? It’s not your fault you feel this way. You don’t even want to be feeling like this. You do want to enjoy skating, gosh you want to, so bad. But there’s just so much you’re holding on too that pretending can’t solve.
“Jungkook I’m not any good at this.” You gesture around eyes starting to sting when you watch how other people have fun while you argue. “You just go have fun with your Leni or Lena whatever.” You act like you aren’t sure of her name.
It’s the way you say it, the force and strain in the word. The way you look to the crowd in a jittering stare looking for her that let’s jungkook know what this is all about. Did it come off like that? She’s just a girl he met whilst skiing, he honestly never thought that far. Never thought you’d be thinking of it.
“Is this because of her?” he questions eyebrows furrowed trying to look at your face that’s staring down. Why the hell are this shoe laces so hard to untie. you just want to cut them off, but you’d probably have to pay for damages. Shit
Your frustration is replaced with another type of embarrassment, when jungkook is on his knee to replace his hands with yours to help you take the laces off. You just want the ground to swallow you right now. Unlike you Jungkook’s calmness is able to take the laces off. He tries to help you into your other shoes but you just brush him off. He moves.
Standing up and looking at you he asks. Voice calm like usual. “Is it?” you’d even forgotten his previous question. Do you have to answer him?
“I don’t know how it would be when you two are off to the other side of the ring. I’ve barely talked to her.” That’s exactly the problem why the heck do you feel like this when you haven’t gotten to know the girl. You barely know her intentions.
“It is.”
You groan rolling your eyes. “If you want help skating, I can help you. I’m sorry that I got carried away.” It’s probably one of the things you’re mad about. He just fucking left you like you didn’t make plans to come here together. Yeah, maybe your attitude made the distance between you, but he should know how to deal with it by now. Gosh you’ve been together for a good 3 years. He should know how you are.
And he does. That’s why he insists you’re acting like this cause of Lena. well, she’s probably just a catalyst and there’s something deeper that you two have to address.
You stand looking up at him, but he’s towering figure doesn’t make you as intimidating as you want to feel. “You don’t have to be sorry about anything, why? Cause you always know what you’re doing.”
“You know it’d be better if you just said it directly.” Whatever it is, because he wants to know. You want to walk past him but his hand around your wrist stops you. You look at it then at him. He’s not smiling, but not mad. Just concerned.
“I don’t--I’m not saying anything.” You snatch it form his grip and he lets you.
Jungkook’s face scrunches up in frustration. “That’s what you always say, then pull shit like this.”
You pause and stare at right in his--round eyes that are now, siren. “Shit like what?”
“This. Your fucking attitude.” He almost loses his tone but remembers that you’re in public, which is so fucking embarrassing. “You never want to talk about things.” He looks around for any watching eyes.
You just glare at him. Maybe you don’t like expressing yourself to him anymore. You’ve noticed it too. It had been hard for you to express yourself to him over a call, and sometimes shitty network. There had been days where you wanted to cry on his shoulders but only had the screen to rely on, so guess what you did. Nothing. You didn’t cry, you didn’t tell him anything. You’d just cry on your pillow after the call ends. “Maybe I don’t cause I know you won’t listen.”
That’s a hit to his ego. To him as a person.
“That’s bullshit and you know it. I always listen to you.” The blank look on your face has him questioning himself. “of course, I’m not perfect.”
You chuckle bitterly.
“Just go off to your little girlfriend.” And there it is, a confirmation of what he already knew.
You start walking to the entrance. And he follows. Shoes on. He’s not going to be able to skate with the heaviness in his heart. He’d end up sinking into the ice, which doesn’t sound so bad right now. “Come on.” He swiftly moves to standing Infront of you. He blocks you from moving and you just give up and just decide to look at his jaw, not wanting to look directly at him. Which was not a good idea, cause of how he clenches it. You look up into his eyes. “you’re jealous?”
“Who?” he’s a parrot and now you’re an owl, he wants to say but finds it inappropriate for your mood.
“You are so jealous.”
“I’m no-”
“don’t lie to me.” You try to push at his chest for him to move out of your way, but your plan backfires giving him leeway to hold your hand firmly to his chest. Hard as a rock even through he’s sweater. “Tell me why you’re jealous.”
Instead of answering him directly you try to change the topic. You swear you can feel his heart beat through his sweater.
“Don’t act like I couldn’t see you jealous too when that guy approached me.” You try to one-up.
“I was jealous.” His confession has you wanting you dig a hole and hide yourself. It’s so easy for him to say, you weren’t even enjoying your conversation with that guy. “Difference with me is that I can say it.”
Shit. Shit. What do you say now. Get angrier, that always works, well not really.
“Whatever. I’m not jealous.” You look away from him. Are you really doing this in public. Jungkook doesn’t look like he gives a fuck right now, he just wants an answer. One which he’s not going to get.
“Tell me what you’re so jealous about?” his voice lowers
“How many times do I have to say I’m not jealous.” Till you can’t deny it anymore, the thought runs through Jungkook’s mind.  “Just go have your fun.” You finally decide you’re tired of feeling his heart beat perfectly.
“you’re so ridiculous y’know.” He watches you move slight away, anger not faltering one bit. You’re determined to being upset. “can’t we just talk about this. It seems to be bothering you.”
It is. It’s fucking gnawing at your heart, your lungs, your mind.
“Nothing’s bothering me, I’m fine.” You breathe in, relaxing and calming down just a bit. “I just don’t want to be out there all on my own, while you’re having fun with some else.” Jungkook licks his lip. He doesn’t have anything else to say. What he has to say can’t be said here or whilst you’re unable to hear.
“I’m going home.” You pass by him and he doesn’t bother turning to watch you walk out.
“Korea?” it’s possible for you to want to leave. And the thought causes him to bite down hard on his bottom lip. Cause if you leave on these terms, nothing’s gonna change and he’d never get another chance. You’d avoid him like the plague.
“No, the cabin.” You state and he’s relieved. “Have fun.”
“Everything okay?” jungkook is startled by Lena’s voice who walked around to find him after she noticed he was gone.
“Yeah.” You force a smile. “I’ll just get going.” He informs her. He already has his stuff so there’s no need for him to go back inside. “Thanks for getting us in, though we didn’t even stay long.”
“No problem. It was fun, wish I got to talk to her.”
“Yeah, she isn’t normally like that.” Cause you aren’t.
“I understand.”
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You don’t immediately go to the cabin. Instead, you go to the sauna you had been eyeing. It could probably be the only way to relax you. The sweat dripping down will mask the real tears falling down your face. You’re glad you’re alone right now.
You have your head leaned back thinking about what had just previously happened. The thoughts not wanting to leave you.
You hear the door open but you don’t bother looking, you’ve got a lot to think about. “hey stranger..” the familiar voice speaks just as shocked. You sharply open your eyes. Wondering if it’s you he’s speaking to but you’re just the two of you in here.
You’re just the two of you.
“didn’t expect to find you here.” He says setting himself down just in front of you and you looking at him oddly. Do you have bad luck?
“hmm” you chuckle awkwardly. You make a plan to gradually scoot yourself to the door. Being with him here does make you uncomfortable but you try to stay to enjoy what’s left of your time. You expect silence but the man doesn’t see on the same level. “Went to the Lindt factory like you said. Was honestly the best of everything.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” you say like you’re a worker at the factory or care.
“It would’ve been better if you came too.”
You awkwardly chuckle and finally decide to sit up. You came here to think and relax but this guy couldn’t be more of a bother. “I’m sure I would’ve just made it worse.”
He chuckles and smiles your way. A smile you do not reciprocate “I doubt.”
“Is your friend around?” Now you should fucking leave.
“Mm?” you ask like you didn’t hear. Fucking sirens are blaring. He’s not giving off I’m gonna leap at your vibe. It’s more of his inability to give up that bugs you. “Oh- ahh yeah. He’s gonna be here.”
He turns to look at the door like Jungkook’s about to walk through the door, but he doesn’t. gosh you wish he would. “isn’t it hard to have male friends like him.” You look at him brows furrowed, confused. You wait for him to elaborate and he’s quick to it. “Protective.” He says.
“how?”
“makes it hard for you to live your live and get to know people.” You laugh. it’s not like jungkook has his hands on you and pulling you away from people who want to talk to you. He’s actually for it but he just has a good discernment of creeps. As you sit here you reflect on his words from before when you initially met the guy. Gosh you should really start listening to jungkook. Makes you realize how right he is—sometimes--
“no.” your tone is sharp that the soft one you’d been giving him.
He shakes his head. He lifts his hands in defence saying, “I think he’s doing too much.” Now you’re getting upset, visibly so, which is not lost to the man. Who the fuck does he thinks he is. He’s the one doing too much, “I’m not some weirdo, I promise.” He hasn’t shown any signs of it yet, but you don’t give a fuck and you’re not gonna wait around for him to show it.
“I think you’re doing too much.” You snare abruptly standing up. He can tell the irritation on your face and is about to defend himself but you’re quick to cutting in. you’re not about to have it.
“I don’t know how your long your trip is but if you see me around, please don’t speak to me.”
“Wait.” You don’t.
Sauna time done you decide to go back to the cabin, feeling anything but relaxed. Daylight already lost.
Today has honestly knocked you out, as though you’ve done anything energy straining. It’s more of an emotional strain. When you walk in jungkook isn’t anywhere to be seen. So, you just assume he never got back. Makes you wonder where the hell he is and why he didn’t tell you, but you’re in no place to convict him cause you never informed him of your sauna endeavours as well. You’re both grown adults and can move around Switzerland without the other—but—why do you feel entitled to know where he is. You lost those privileges when you broke up and now when you left him at the rink.
Maybe a steamy shower will do what the sauna didn’t finish cause of you interruption. After that you decide to end your night early, you’ve got nothing to do after all.
you toss and turn in bed, barely able to get a linear sleeping time. Everything just feels so weird and off. Even worse than in the beginning. It’s all a different type of awkward, which you hate. Jungkook isn’t sleeping next to you which prompts you to checking the time.
1:39am your phone tells you.
Where the hell is he, you’re starting to get scared. You’re not worried about his safety cause jungkook is very capable in that sector, --well unless he got shot—shot?  Why are thinking of that. Who’d fucking shot him, let alone in Switzerland. He’s never been in any trouble with the law or anyone. You’re getting paranoid, if you don’t see jungkook in the flesh, well and not wounded, you’re gonna lose your mind.
Putting on the sweater that has been a staple and carried you through the trip you walk out the bedroom to the open floor living room. you sigh when you don’t spot jungkook. You won’t be able to go back to sleep even if you wanted to. Cause you don’t feel like it and are losing your mind. As you’re standing in the living room like an anxiety ridden mom waiting for their teenager child at midnight, you hear it. It’s wood chopping sounds. Harsh and fast. You do have some cabins around you so it could be your neighbours—but no--the sound is closer to yours, like it’s just outside. So, you curiously walk to the door which would lead you closer to the sound. Maybe you aren’t as afraid cause you assume it’s jungkook. And it is.
You relax when you spot his figure well and healthy.
He doesn’t notice as you stand watching him. bottom lip chewed down on. Why the hell is he chopping wood at 1 in the morning.
You want to say something. You need to. Maybe apologize about what happened at the rink, you have a fair share in the argument. Since waking up or maybe after the sauna you realized how childish your behaviour was. You ruined the moment. When you could’ve just asked jungkook to help you and he would’ve been there, hadn’t you chosen to give into your irritation. Irritation of seeing him with a woman. There you said it.
His muscles flex as he moves to drop the axe down on the wood.
This is not what you want for you and jungkook. Arguing and not able to talk or share air. It’s not what you want. Even if things do officially end, you’d want to end it on calm and friendlier terms.
As you watch him you notice how his jaw tightens. He’s not just chopping wood. You start to worry for him when his movements grow harsher, of the larger chunk of wood.
“What did the wood do to you?” you try to be neutral.
He didn’t notice you behind him. So, he’s startled by the sound of your voice. Turning to look at you holding yourself in the door way, he chooses to take a break. He got so carried away he forgot he was cutting wood for the fire place and had cut too much. He drops the axe into snow. “Ditched me at the ice rink.” He says going to pick up some pieces of wood to bring inside.
Fuck you feel so bad. You stay silent watching him until he’s brought all the wood in and finally closing the door. Which allows for the warmth from the now blazing fire to fill the house. Now in warmer climate, jungkook takes off his large sweater and you drop your arms that were still wrapped around you.
“I’m sorry about that.” You mumble softly. He stands at the sink, you assume to make himself something warm.
“it’s okay, it’s not like I went all the way to stay in touch with some girl so she could get me—us--a good deal at the ice rink. Then I take you there and you ditch the thing entirely.”
You do feel horrible about to, but his tone irritates you causing you to respond as just that. Which you immediately regret.
“I left you with her, weren’t you happy with that.” You have an interesting way of saying things that bother you.
Jungkook pauses his actions and stares at you with a seriously confused face. He scoffs. You’re not making sense. “You know that’s not what I wanted.” He returns to his mug. “I wanted to spend it with you.” His voices calms.
Fuck. Uhm what do you say. You should probably say you’re sorry. “I’m sorry.”
Jungkook just listening. He just doesn’t understand, he wishes you could just be straight forward. Frustrated and tired of hiding behind a task, he drops the cup to give you, his attention.
“Did I say something wrong?” you stand where you are but jungkook moves. To you. You panic but he doesn’t walk closer than a few feet from you. You don’t know how you’d handle yourself if he came any closer. At the rink you almost died. “At the rink?” he clarifies like you’re not fully aware. He just wants to make sure that you’re on the same page. Cause you can think of other times he might have feared he’d said something wrong.  “I honestly shouldn’t even have started talking to her.” He rubs a hand over his face.
Jungkook has never been malicious to you in your friendship before or relationship. Or even now. He’s been cordial. He’s the only man who’s treated so well and calmingly. Of course he has his imperfections, you both do. But it doesn’t take from how well he’s treated you. He never crosses a line.
“it’s not even that.” You’re looking off to the side and holding yourself again,
Gosh, he’s really holding himself right now. He bites his lower lip and clenches his jaw to hold himself back from just walking up to you and making you look him in the eyes. “Then what’s wrong. Please talk to me.” He pleads.
“I don’t know,” you whisper still looking beyond him, your voice is barely audible.
He’s begging, really for you to just tell him something. “Please don’t say that.” He responds, his tone a mix of frustration and pleading. He steps closer just a few centimetres away, if you unfolded your arms you’d probably bump into his chest.
“I don’t-” you start but your voice cuts you off, “it’s the way you-” you aren’t able to finish. What are you going to do with yourself. This is embarrassing, you can barely form or organize your thoughts and your mouth can barely move to speak. You’re not even going to talk about how hard it is for you to look him in the eyes. You just settle with staring at his other supporting features. His hair, his ears (that are red from what you assume is frustration—it���s not--), his eyebrows and then you skip to look at his nose--
“was it me talking to that girl?”
“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You push away slightly.
“But we have--you know what--I want to.” He moves to block your action of walking away. You thought you were strong enough. You thought you’d manage to talk about this. But you can’t. not when it makes you want to cry.  “I want to talk about it.” His voice is stern but not harsh. It’s just strong enough to let you know he’s not letting this go. It’s funny how something so insignificant can cause you to be in this situation. Forced to express and confront your emotions, the one’s you’ve been running from since the trip began, the one’s you told yourselves you’d pretend didn’t exist. You fooled yourselves by dodging the topic.
Now you’re here. “While we’re at it we can talk about why you broke up with me.” He’s not asking if you can talk about it, he’s telling you it has to be talked about and he’s not gonna let it go by. Not this time.
At his words, all your emotions unite to form a single unit of defence. “me? you agreed too.” You point at him face scowling.
“I only did cause it’s what you wanted, and I didn’t want to hold you back.”
You stare confused. “Hold me back from what?” what the fuck does he think you’ve been doing. You hope he doesn’t think you’ve been out and about since breaking up, that’s been the last thing on your mind.
“From living the life, you wanted to, without me.” His upset at the thought leading his voice to come out a little passive aggressive.
He does think that, you can see it. “Without you? I don’t want that.” You state. “But how can I live a life with you when you’re miles away, always busy. And can barely visit.” You just talk. Finally, your gears are moving. But the problem is that so are the tears. “You moving away is you choosing to live without me too.” You choke on your words a little. “Even I didn’t want to tie you to me or hold you back from your dreams that’s why I tried to li- live with it, but it got so unbearable kook. I couldn’t take it. it felt like I was alone. In fact, I was alone.”
Jungkook feels sick hearing that you felt alone.
“You know I did try.” His voice is soft, moving himself into your circle. You let him. He can’t help himself but cup your cheek. The action feels comforting, almost relieving. At least he’s here and you’re not talking over the phone, makes it much easier for you to sink into his touch.
You hold the wrist that’s caressing your cheek. Gosh you want to keep his touch here forever. “I know that’s what hurts more you tried but it still wasn’t enough. I really did want it to work. I still do.” On your last sentence you look up at him and he’s already staring at you, the thump of his other hand coming swiftly to wipe your stray tears. You sniffle. “Cause honestly I’ve missed you kook.” You feel comforted playing with the end of his sweater.  “So much. I miss how we were before you moved. When it was easier for us to be together.” your fingers take a journey from the bottom of his sweater to the neck.
Your palms lay flat on his chest and his hands move to softly hold your wrist, not to move you away but you keep there.
“I know we said we’d pretend. A-and I thought I could. But I can’t kook.” On cue with his name, you look up at him. “fuck- I never knew how much I hate seeing you talk to other—" you can’t finish your sentence, but it’s okay cause he’s finished for you in his mind. “I’m sorry for attitude.”
He glides his hands from your wrists down your arms until they are both on your waist. “I’m sorry too.” He’s pulling you closer, your hands still on his chest, but now for stability. “I’m so sorry I was too distracted for you. You didn’t deserve that. You don’t serve that.” He’s caressing your back. “okay?” you have to answer but you can only bring yourself to nodding. All he’s ever wanted was to know. Know what was wrong and how he could fix it.
“I’ve missed you too.” He smiles lightly bringing his nose to brush against yours. The action has you tilting your head upwards. His lips itch to touch yours, but they don’t they just hover, he still has more to say. And he wants to say it close enough for you to feel it. “If only you knew how I dreaded every morning and realized you weren’t next to me. Every time I just wanted to fly back home.”
“So, what stopped you.” You’re looking at his lips. his rosy and moist lips from how hard he’s been biting and licking on that. You wanna do that. You wanna kiss him, wanna be the only biting down on his lips.  you wanna do a lot of things right now. You wanna run your hands through his hair remind yourself of its texture, you wanna lift that sweater off, that holds his cologne so well, the earthy lavender scent, that crawls its way through your system. You wanna take that sweater off him, --feel, see—just how much that gym membership as proved itself valuable. You know you won’t be disappointed, jungkook loves the fucking gym.
“I don’t even know. But all I know is that it’s not gonna stop me anymore.” Him nudging his nose closer has you tilting your head to meet his lips. the air between you feels heavy. The feeling pulling your lips to meet. And when the do, it’s fervent. His kiss is urgent but slow, not wanting to be apart from you for a second.
 Your bodies are hooked together as Jungkook is moving you back into a wall. The kiss intensifies when he leans your head back with his hand around your neck. You’re gripping onto his sweater for support and breathing him in for life.
Jungkook clings onto your lips for life too, even if he needs to breath he doesn’t stop. You moaning into his mouth will suffice. He doesn’t know where to keep his hands. Should he use them to tilt your head back to deepen the kiss, (if he goes any deeper he’s gonna sink.) whilst he uses the other to pull you leg up by your thighs, his grip surely leaving crescent moons as decorations. He doesn’t know what to do with them. For the moment he uses them to pull he sweater over his head. You’ve been clawing at it to come off.
Now shirtless you can feel his skin for what you remember it to be silky-smooth. So delicate that you fear leaving scratch marks on him, but jungkook encourages it, he begs you to do it. Your hands roam his body, first his large back, muscles flexed, then down his firm chest then down to his defined midsection. “What am I to do with all this.” You say breathless.
“You tell me. It’s all yours.” Your lips are meeting again. Tongues tagging at each other. For some reason the rich, sweet and completely irresistible taste of chocolate lingers on your lips, but he loves it and is drinking it up.
Jungkook finds that his hands are better at gripping your thigh and lifting it to wrap around his waist. His core moves into you and you feel how hard he is against you. You’re thankful for his thin pajama pants.
Your hands pull at the root of his hair, though it’s shorter you make it work, making him groan into your mouth. You both can’t fucking breath at this point, which is the only reason you’re pulling away. Your heavy breaths brushing against each other.
“jungk-” you’re moaning for him to take you to bed but he’s steps ahead of you. Your feet don’t have to fret cause he’s lifting you by the thighs to lay you on the edge of the bed.
You lay back on the bed but legs on his shoulder, he’s kneeling between your legs. Your pants are still on but not for long. In a swift motion you’re left in your plain black panties. The ones with the little bow. He chuckles at the detail. When you see what he’s laughing at you get self conscious. Jungkook looks up at you confused why you’re closing your legs.
“I didn’t know we’d be in this position, so these are the one I brought.” You try to explain yourself cheeks blushing red. He doesn’t know why you’re so insecure about the detail. He loves them.
For a quick kiss he’s on his feet hovering over you. “it’s okay, I like my gifts wrapped in bows.” He smirks and the comment has you calling out his name in shock. peck. He’s back on his knees staring at your core. The bow is a detail he’ll miss but he’d gotta take them off. Fuck is all he can think when your cunt is right in front of him, wet. Is this where he’s meant to die, right in your cunt from suffocation cause he won’t be able to detach himself from you.
Your legs are planted on his shoulder, your ass just at the edge of the bed. When he first swipes his tongue through your folds, it takes you by surprise. Gosh you missed him being right there.
“fuck” you whimper the sound not being able to be masked. Your slick, probably mixed with his saliva, drips down your cunt, down his chin. His nose is so deep in it that some of your juices run up his nose. Is this how fucking cocaine sniffers feel?  He can’t wait till his cock is buried snuggly it. He sniffs in, on purpose this time, takin git once more. You grind on his face making him suck harder at your clit. You’re getting dizzy and gripping hard at the sheets. His nails dig into your thighs harshly, the pain causing pleasure.
Everything is so intense you can’t tell apart your orgasm. Fuck you can’t be coming this fast from just his tongue. Shit. “Jungkook. Don’t stop” You whine the intense feeling approaching quick, your walls tightening and fluttering around his tongue. Jungkook’s so carried away he only realizes you’re coming when your legs are shaking. He drinks everything that leaves and it’s only when you’re pulling his head back from overstimulation that he realizes he should take a breath. He’s starved can you blame him?
“you’re so gorgeous baby.” he says peppering kisses on your thighs. “Wanna do that again for me.” He’d absolutely would eat you out for a second time in a row. And you’d love that but you just want to feel him.
You’re moving up the bed and he’s hovering over you kissing your jaw. Your palms meet his ass in a teasing smack.
“Missed this ass.” You smile under him. jungkook just chuckles. you want to add on but his finger stuffing your tight cunt has you silent, gasping for air.
Jungkook smiles down at your pleasure strained face. “mm? not so talkative now?”
He thinks he’s got you. Then you slide down your hand down his abs, he knows where your hand travels and though it’ll destroy his ego, he lets you do it. “so big” you bite your bottom lip as you start stroking him, using your own juices as lubricate. He’s walls are falling. Your hand wrapped around him, has him burying his moans in the croak of your neck.
It’s a competition huh? he loves those second and fucking your cunt first.
You’re stroking him in his pants and he’s pumping his fingers in your cunt. He’s kissing you to hide his moans. It’s a fucking competition and he’s losing. He can’t lose. His hand leaves your cunt to grab at your wrist. You stop. He pulls you away from him. if you went on any longer, he’d be done for and the night wouldn’t end the way he wants. He hasn’t been touched in a year, unless it’s talking about those times you sexted, but it doesn’t count. It feels different when it’s your hands.
“why’d you do that?” you whine.
“If you did that you wouldn’t have gotten the orgasms I have left for you.” You don’t respond. you won’t argue, you do want them.
His fingers are back to pumping and even sooner than before your climax approaches. He wishes he could count just how much you flutter around his finger but he’s too busy looking at your face, pleasure written all over it. and its pride that fills him, knowing he’s the one giving it to you.
Jungkook moves away and you watch how he licks his fingers clean. The way he smiles at you after, is disgustingly hot.
“Take off your pants.” You tell him.
“You take off your shirt.” He reciprocates, you’d forgotten you’d even been wearing anything.
Jungkook is spoiled by the sight before him, your chest sprawled out for him to taste. So, he leans down and wraps his tongue around a nipple. His hand lost at the other side. You love all the foreplay, really, but you want him. you’ve been thinking about it for forever.
“Jungkook.” You call. He hums saying you have his attention. “I want you.”
There’s nothing more he wants.
“Want you too baby.” He says grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance. Then he remembers.
“fuck” he whispers. You sit up and wander what has him holding back.
“what?”
“I don’t have a condom.” He knows he doesn’t have one, it’d be weird, it’s not like he was coming on this trip expecting to fuck you.
“Why?” he stares at you confused.
“I didn’t expect fucking to be on the itinerary.”
Oh yeah, you laugh at himself.
“Do you?”
“Nope. Why would I have them.” He just shrugs his shoulders.
He’s gonna lose it. “Are you on the pill?” it’s his only option.
That’s when you shake your head. “Got off when we broke up.”
Okay so what is he gonna do, his cock hard and your cunt right in front of him.
“Jungkook come on you can pull out.” You whine pulling him forward.
She shakes his head. “god no. I almost lost my mind from your hand. It’d lose it in your pussy.” You smile, you shouldn’t be laughing cause you won’t be able to fuck. But you just can’t help but smile at the fact that he almost lost himself just from your hand. You’ve got no clue on what to do. You really need to fuck him.
“Wait--” he looks at you. “This is a lover’s cabin.” You say but he waits for you to elaborate and make sense.
“wouldn’t they have condoms in the cupboard or something.” He didn’t think of that.
So, as you stand you walk over to the cupboard roughly open it almost tipping it over. “Bingo!” you celebrate pulling out a long string of condoms. Your saving grace.
You carefully pull out one and toss it to jungkook.
“Relax aren’t they the one’s you usually use,” you say when you see the look on his face. They do look like they’ve just been purchased and placed. He’s so thankful right now. He leans against the head board and you watch how he gracefully he strokes himself and slips it on, your mouth drools but you’re too needy. You’ll do that another day.
“Come ride cow girl.” He welcomes you when he’s all done. You stretch your legs over him, centering yourself. His hands are quick to spread across your ass, landing a light tap.
He helps you centre himself at your entrance. His brows scrunch together when he feels your tight warmth slide down him. he definitely isn’t going to last long, maybe he’ll hold on till you come but after that is not promised.
His hand loosely holds at your throat, just enough to tilt it back slightly and leave wet kisses and marks everywhere on your skin.
You sliding up and down him feels great but he couldn’t help himself but move his fingers to touch your clit. In pure pleasure you’re wrapping your arms around him and kissing him. you love this position, how he nudges at your back, how intimate it feels, the way you’re so close after being so far away. The cold is barely in mind. Jungkook can’t express how much he’s missed you.
You love it.
But what you love more is how he pulls at your hair, just softly. “Love fucking my cock huh?” he asks but you’re unable to answer his hips jutting up into you with great speed. Jungkook could get carried away with the way your boob bounce but he chooses to say focus. “You like that huh?” he smirks but your eyes are closed, the pleasure of his intense strokes taking you out.
“Yeah, love fucking you kook.” You whimper out.
He’s thrusting harder and you’re moaning louder. “you look so pretty taking me baby. Wanna fuck you forever.”
You wish you.
Your body melts into his as you’re coming again, jungkook fucking into you for his own high which follows after yours. When he catches his breath, he’s laying you down and beside you just after throwing the filled condom.
“I’m gonna get the bath started.” He says planting a quick kiss on your shoulder.
You’re too drained to stand so when he’s back to come get you you’re dozing off. “come on baby I’ve got to get you cleaned up.”
You groan. “Then after a I can make you cocoa.”
“I’m so tired kook.” You whine.
“I knowww.” he coos. Next thing you know he’s lifting you, bridal style. “it’s okay I’ve got you.”
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“Hmm. Don’t move.” Jungkook whines when you threaten to stand and start your day. You two have already slept in because of your late-night endeavours.
“I have to kook. We have so much for our day.”
“Ugh! Fine. But first give me your hand.” He demands the action has you confused but you give it to him. when he has it, he’s giving you a billion kisses. “I love you.” He doesn’t think it’s too soon cause—well he doesn’t know it just felt right to say.
“I love you too now let me go.” He makes sure not to unhand you until you say it more ‘meaningfully’ according to him.
---
You and jungkook decided to retry ice skating (you were hell bent on not going skiing.)
As you’re skating jungkook slides to the half wall, after telling you he has to take a call. You shoo him away after telling you’ll be fine alone (for the meantime).
“Any news?” jungkook was nervous when he got the call from Namjoon. This is a very important call from him, it determines what the hell he’s gonna choose. Quit or get transferred.
“Yeah. it’s been approved.” Jungkook is still for a moment.
“Seriously?” it almost feels like a dream.
“Yeah, had to do a lot of convincing but they agreed.” He’s so grateful for Namjoon. He’s gonna miss him. Jungkook looks over to you, gliding not great but better, and you’re smiling this time. So, he’s happy. You’re happy.
“Thank you, man,”
Namjoon smiles, he knows how much this means. “No problem.” The call cuts.
This just seals a lot “kook look out.” He pockets his phone and as he’s turning to you, you slam into him. You haven’t gotten to the knowing how to stop just yet. Maybe next time.
“You okay, baby.” He says holding onto you by your waist
You let out a dramatic breath that has him smiling. “Yeah, but I’m getting kinda tired.” You say out of breath and letting your weight fall into his arms.
“I’m getting hungry too.” You’ve spent a good amount of time ice skating so you decide to leave it for next time.
--
“what’s the plan for tonight.” He asks as you eat.
“Hmm. For the first time I don’t know.” You both laugh. “We could go out for dinner—ohhh the hot tub--.” You forgot about it cause none of you ever wanted to use it, honestly you didn’t even expect the place to have a hot tub.
“I like the sound of that.”
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The steam of the hot tub hovers lazily on the surface of the water. The steam curls around jungkook as his gaze locks on you. Body dry cause you haven’t gotten in yet. You walk onto the deck, the dim but still bright enough lights radiant off your skin, as though the sun has come to pay him a visit at night.
His breath is caught.
The bikini hugs you in all the ways that made his thoughts falter, the curves of your body illuminated by the soft glow of the light. He swallows hard, his mouth dry despite being surround by water. You make him weak, so much that he looks only at you, even though your attention is else were. You try to find a place to hook your towels.
And then you turn around to smile at him in victory of finding a place to hang them. He nods acknowledging but no paying attention.
He leans back slightly, the water lapping at his shoulders as his eyes roam you, mesmerized. There’s some thing unworldly about you, something he can’t quite put into words. It wasn’t just the way you looked, that made him trip for you. It was the way you carried yourself, the way your body swayed as you moved closer to him.
His arms immediately reach out to envelope you. “Enjoying the view?” you tease, your voice relaxing into the tub and his warmth.
The chuckle he releases is low, “you know I am.”
Your giggle like a melody. You wrap your arms around him and he loses his stability for a second before regaining it. “careful.” He murmurs to you, a slow smile spreading across his face. “I might drown.”
“I wouldn’t want that.” you peck his lips.
You relax for a while just taking in the night and each other presence.
Jungkook has been meaning to ask, the question eating at his mind.  “Do you want to go back to Korea with me?” it sounds like a dumb question, you came together so you will be leaving together.
But the double meaning lies within and he’s desperate to know your answer.
“What are you saying?” you coo at him. “Aren’t we already going back together.” You’re talking about the tangible stuff, the tickets, the plane, the flying, even the landing and going home. But he doesn’t mean that.
After pecking your shoulder water sticking to his lips, he explains. “I don’t mean physically.”
You stare down at him eyes softening. “kook” you realize the seriousness of his question. And for a second jungkook senses scepticism. So, he panics.
“If it’s bout my job, I’m working on it.” His voice is quick.
That was a fear of yours, even more that he wouldn’t want to move. Jungkook has thought about it, the move was a rush decision he never spoke to anyone about it to ask their opinion or whatever. And honestly the move didn’t bring him much joy, besides the opportunity to adventure Jeju. But apart from that he was away from his family, his friends and you. Everything that made his life.
“Seriously?” you say more shocked than anything else.
“Yeah, Namjoon called me. My transfer got approved.”
 You gasp the water swashing from your movement. “don’t lie to me”
He laughs. “I’m not.”
“I thought you said getting it approved is hard.” You’re finding this so hard to believe.
“It is, I guess I got lucky.”
You squeal moving in to hug him.
“When did you start all this.” It’s along process so he had to start early.
“Honestly before we broke up. I wanted to surprise you if it got approved. But then-” you shush him from going on further.
“So, what would have you done if it didn’t get approved.” Your tone drops.
Jungkook sighs looking around in thought. “would’ve fucking quit.” it’s funny how easy the idea is for him, former him would have struggled with the question. “I’m tired of being so far from you.”
“Same.” He places a longer and soft kiss on your lips.
“So, you wanna go back with me?” His voice is playful, as he looks up at you through wet lashes.
“Mhm.” You smile, leaning slightly closer to him, your fingertips tracing lazy circles on his shoulder. “I wanna go everywhere with you.”
The words hang in the air for a moment, warm and intimate, as his lips lifts into a small, boyish grin. “We can arrange that.”
Jungkook doesn’t mind being patched to your side like a little purse dog. In fact, the way he leans into you now, his hand slipping around your waist as if it were second nature, says he’d prefer it. His thumb grazes your hip absentmindedly, a small gesture that feels both possessive and endearing.
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“I’m gonna miss it.” you say leaning into Jungkook's shoulder with a pout. You wait patiently for your flight. “Feels like we just started the trip.”
Jungkook reaches over to cup your hand in his. He then interlocks your fingers and brings it to his lips; the action causes you to smile softly. He really likes to do that. It’d never been a trait of his before, so you’re intrigued, to why he does it all of a sudden. “We can come back one day. together.”
“Yeah together.” You reassure. You like this. Like having him with you.
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[3 months later]
“Jimin if you’re gonna wear that to my fucking wedding you’re not coming.” You announce to a jimin too focused on the light blue suit he’s in. in the mirror you can spot his cheeky grin. He’s not gonna wear a freaking light blue suit, it’s not on the colour scheme, plus he doesn’t like how it makes him look.
He turns to look at jungkook who’s standing on his own pedestal looking into the mirror. Touching and teasing at the suit. “Jungkook you’re not gonna let her do that right?.” Jungkook just shrugs his shoulders at jimin. He’s not pleased with the answer. He knew the dude was down bad, but not this down bad. “Bro!”
“she’s the boss.” Jungkook raises his hands in surrender and you smirk in your seat.
“Come on man…standup.” he fists at Jungkook who just laughs. As Jimin is stepping out to get out of the suit (he stayed so long in it you thought he might actually want to wear it.) and get changed, you swat him with a magazine and he’s quick to running out not wanting you to land another hit.
Now alone in the dressing room you walk up to jungkook. You lean your chin on his shoulder, your hands finding there way to his chest. He welcomes them with his own. “You look so handsome.” Your voices hums sweetly by his ear. Jungkook lifts up both of your hands to place soft and warm kisses on them. The action has you blushing red. The ring on your finger and indication of why he liked to do it before. Plus, now, he just enjoys it., it makes you blush and he likes that.
“Mhm.” He hums against your wrists. “You like it?”
“I love it.” You take a hundredth glance at a preview of what he might wear at your wedding. If he chooses it’s what he wants. You love the cut on him. the colour complimenting his skin, and the style shows off his physique, not too much, but not too little. But all the buttons on the vest and shirt are gonna give you some trouble undoing.
Jungkook stares at you completely enamoured at the way you’re looking at it. You should be looking at him like that. “I think you might love the suit more than me.” He turns abruptly causing you to fall into his chest. He catches and keeps you stable with his firm hand on your lower back.
You place one hand on his chest and the other around his neck, bringing you much closer. “I might just.” Your lips could meet easily with how close you are. But you don’t move them and jungkook pouts at how you deny him the opportunity.
“I’m gonna take it off, not gonna let you love it more.” He nudges his nose with yours.
“Take it off.”
“Jeon Yn! I forgot how freaky you are.” You roll your eyes at how he’s already given you his last name, you like the sound of it though. Reminds you of how real this is, you’re not dreaming.
Trying to tease him more you move by his ear to whisper, “Not here though.”
Jungkook is biting his lower lip. “We should hurry then.” he moves to kiss your shoulder, your off-the-shoulder top giving him leeway to kiss your skin directly. He peppers more kisses from your shoulder to your neck before  you get carried away you’re prompting for him to turn around. He does, though reluctantly.
You giggle.
“Do you like it though?” your voice turns serious, as much as you like it and how you just want to see him in it the whole day. If he likes it matters.
“Yeah, it makes me look so…husband.” He smiles boyishly as he winks at you in the mirror.
“Oh-gosh.” You push yourself away from him to get back to your seat. You’re not gonna be here all day.
He turns to face you. Still standing on the pedestal. “When do I get to see you in your dress” His teeth play with his lip ring as he asks curiously. The thought of you in the gown exciting him.
“When I walk down the aisle.” You stare blankly, no room for discussion. And he doesn’t, you’ve been quite stern about him not seeing you in any bridal wear until the wedding. Which he doesn’t mind, he can wait.
“Make sure it’s a ball gown so that I can slip under and hide.” He gestures his hands to elaborate what he means.
You shake your head. It’s not your style, maybe when you were a child, but you’ve grown. “I’m not wearing a ball gown.”
Ditching the jacket, he places it next to you and stands closing your legs between his. He lowers himself so your nose is touching his. His arms trap you between him and the couch. You didn’t think he was not gonna get that kiss right? He kisses you softly, then again. Then a little harder the third time, this one lasting seconds longer. You hold on his waist for stability. He kisses you once more just for the sake.
“I’m very sure you’ll look divine in whatever you pick, baby.”
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A/N: so that's that. I hope I've fixed your broken heart from I-redo. there are scenes that i couldn't fit in. Yes of course there are other activities they did, but if i wrote it all it would be boring and too long and would probably be pushed to next month. i wish i could've written more fluff but idk.
i will allow for story drabble request if you guys want that.
but yeah thanks, for reading, liking and commenting. much love. wishing you a happy new year.
story idea copyright of keen-li, 30.12.24
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finelinevogue · 24 days ago
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bigger than all of them
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summary - you and the girls have an extremely spicy wine evening [ 18+ content / mature ]
word count - >1k
pairing - azriel x mate!reader
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You were 3 bottles of wine deep and had no filter.
Mor had convinced you and the girls to have a wine night in at the House of Wind. She had raided Rhys’ wine store room and taken some of his most potent stuff, hence why you were all so inebriated.
The night had started of sweet and friendly, but at some point it had taken a dark and sexual turn which is why you were all now divulging in each other’s sex lives.
“Well I hope you get treated right in the bedroom, Emerie.” Nesta smirked.
Emerie and Mor had been together for over three years now and they were still very much in their honeymoon phase. You doubted they would ever leave it.
“She does.” Mor answered, looking at her love from across the room with stars in her eyes, “And not just the bedroom.”
Emerie blushed, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe this conversation was really happening.
“Are you a giver or receiver?” Nesta asked Emerie, wanting more details.
“Can I say both?” She replied.
“I would’ve thought Mor would’ve been the giver.” Feyre chimed in, nudging her shoulder into Mor’s since they were sat on the sofa next to each other.
“Sometimes it’s nice to switch.” Mor shrugged. “Top up anyone?”
Mor offered the bottle to everyone, holding it up whilst others held up their glasses to fill. Nesta’s was barely sipped from yet and she was demanding a refill. Yours was almost empty but you didn’t raise your glass just yet.
“Someone fill up Y/Ns glass. We need her tipsier before we question her about Az.” Mor demanded.
You blushed as you thought about being in the spotlight for being questioned about your sex life - with Azriel! Az was practically a brother to Mor and part of Nesta and Feyre’s immediate family, so it felt forbidden to talk about him like that with them. Yet, you did want to divulge a little.
“I need to be drunker to hear about Azriel’s sex life.” Nesta laughed, holding her glass out for Mor to fill.
“Where is he tonight?” Gwyn asked.
“Who? Az?” You asked.
“Mhm.”
“At home, I think.” You replied.
“Oh yes! You just moved houses didn’t you. How did that go?” Elain asked.
“It was good. We’re still decorating but we’re taking our time.” You answered, crossing your legs underneath as you got comfortable. The blanket had fallen slightly off your legs so you pulled it back up onto your lap.
“What colour are you painting the walls?”
“I think–.”
“I’m sorry. I did not invite you all over to hear what tone of beige Y/N and Azriel are painting their house. I want to know something more interesting. Like.. Have you defiled the house yet?” Mor asked.
All eyes switched to you intensely, like you were about to tell the most important story of all existence.
You took a nervous sip of wine, readying yourself for the beginning of the interrogation.
“Yes.” You said simply.
“And?” Feyre asked, eyes wide waiting for more.
“And what?” You pretended to be clueless.
“Oh please… We want to know what room. When? How long? What’s he like? Is the best you’ve ever had?” Nesta pried.
You bit your lip as you readied yourself to answer the questions. Hopefully Az wouldn’t care that you were going to divulge so many details with your friends.
“On the first night in our new house we… you know—.”
“Fucked?” Mor interjected.
“Yeah, fucked, for.. well I remember we started before dinner and then I don’t really ever remember going to bed… so, all night?”
Everyone squealed.
Feyre kicked her legs as she screamed in excitement and Gwyn almost spilt her wine on the floor from how elated she was.
You and Azriel were a very private couple, so hearing details like these were very rare and few - which is why it was all the more monumental when people did hear the details. Whether the details were soft or sexy were completely dependent on whether you’d been fed wine or not - Mor knew what she doing.
“Is he… big?” Gwyn asked shyly, still getting comfortable with talking about stuff like this.
“Well I have nothing to compare it to.” You furrowed your brows.
Nesta held up her hands in front of her, palms facing inwards to each other, drawing them a little closer together but still far enough part to keep a good distance between them.
“This is Cassian.” She said.
Feyre copied Nesta’s actions but created a gap that was a little smaller but by only a fraction.
“Rhys.”
Elain held hers up then, the smallest of all the gaps but still a big gap nonetheless, “Lucien.”
You bit your lip as you tried to suppress the giggle you wanted to let out. You tilted your chin to your chest as you answered, refusing to meet anyones eye as you did, “Bigger than all of them.”
“I knew it!” Mor shouted, raising her arms to the sky in triumph with herself.
“Well done, love, you correctly guessed the size of your brothers dick.” Emerie teased her.
“Gods, he must be good then Y/N/N?” Gwyn asked.
“Mhm.” You nodded, taking a sip of your wine.
“Did it get better with the bond?” Elain asked you.
“Oh yeah, definitely. You agree Mor?”
“Definitely.” Mor looked lovingly at Emerie, her mate, as she answered. Emerie nodded in agreement with Mor.
Feyre pouted as she watched their interaction, probably missing her own mate. Rhys and Feyre had the kind of bond where they couldn’t go half a day without being with each other. It was sweet.
“I think also, like, Az has learnt what I do and don’t like which is why it feels better.” You said.
“Oh yeah? What’s the best thing he’s learnt to do?” Nesta asked devilishly.
You pursed your lips and squinted as you thought about which moment to answer with, the wine having given you enough liquid courage to talk more about this kind of stuff.
Damn you Mor.
“He does this thing with his shadows…”
The girls squealed again and your toes curled just thinking about Azriel.
“He… sometimes ties me with them and uses the spare tendrils to tease me.” You blushed.
“Oh!”
“Y/N!!!”
“Yes!”
“Good for you!”
The girls seemed more excited by this than you. They did have a point. It was a pretty intense and exciting thing, to have a mate that was so open and interested in loving you in different ways.
It made your sex life interesting and fresh.
“I wish Cassian had shadows now, dammit.” Nesta rolled her eyes.
“He must treat you good, Y/N.” Feyre said.
“He does. Really good.”
“I knew this wine night was a good idea!” Mor laughed and so did the rest of you.
Maybe she had a point. It was nice to be comfortable enough to talk about these kind of things with some of the best people in your life. Not to mention it made you even more excited to get home to Azriel later on and defile another room with him.
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yanderedrabbles · 2 months ago
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Yandere Werewolf
There's something terrorising your town every full moon. And a stroke of bad luck has you running into it more than once.
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There's something terrorising your town.
The chickens are turning up dead, torn apart with their feathers and blood clumped together all over the yard. The pigs spend every full moon squealing and running around their pens like they can smell a predator in the air. The hunters say there's strange tracks out in the deep woods, tracks bigger than any wolf they've ever seen.
And there's scratches on your door - deep, gouged out claw marks like something wants to dig its way into your house.
You try not to get worked up about it.
It's probably just a fox or a coyote, right? Everyone knows they steal a chicken now and then. And you've seen the six-packs of beer your dad takes when he goes hunting. Dog tracks look pretty damn big when you're drunk and it's dark out, don't they?
You try not to get worked up about it, but every full moon you double check your locks.
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You're squinting at the local paper when your best friend comes up behind you and slings his arm across your shoulders. He plucks the paper out of your hand and scoffs at the headline.
"Chickens found dead at McKinnly farm? No one should be surprised by that. Old McKinnly doesn't even have the coop properly fenced in."
"Hey! I wasn't done reading that."
He balls the paper up and tosses it into the dustbin with a smooth overhead throw.
"You are now. C'mon y/n, don't tell me you're buying into all this werewolf business too?"
Your best friend towers over you, every inch of him well bred, football star muscle. You have to crane your neck to properly glare at him.
"Don't be ridiculous. It's just sensational nonsense."
"Oh yeah? So you ain't scared of a big bad wolf breaking into your bedroom one night?"
It's your turn to scoff. "That's a pervert, not a wolf. How's a wolf even supposed to open a window?"
The school bell rings before he can give you an answer.
He groans. "I've got extra practice again tonight. Will you come watch me? We can get pizza after."
You grin. "Breaking News! Star quarterback needs his favourite cheerleader around to make life bearable."
He flicks your forehead. "Damn right I do. So whatcha say?"
"Sure. Someone's gotta be around to keep you on your toes."
It's only when he's long out of sight that you remember - you're one night away from the full moon.
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He destroys his team mates at practice. When he's pounding down the field, head down and his fingers curled like claws around the ball, he almost looks inhuman.
After practice, he catches you before you can scramble away and rubs his sweaty face all over you.
"Ewwww." You shove him at him unsuccessfully. "You do that every time! It's so gross!"
"Gotta be faster than that squirt," he laughs.
By the time he's done in the locker room, you've already ordered pizza for the both of you.
You head up to the overlook, his old Mustang growling down the highway.
The overlook is exactly what it sounds like - a hill high over town with a great view of the twinkling streets far below. It's a clear night, and the almost full moon casts a silvery shadow over everything.
He slings his arm across the back of your seat and complains when you pick the olives off your side of the pizza.
"God, I hope your taste in men is better than your taste in pizza."
"My taste in men and pizza are equally questionable, thank you very much."
He laughs, "At least you're self aware. Speaking of guys, I know Murrey from Algebra asked you to prom, and Dave from Homeroom."
You groan. "How did you even hear about that?"
"I've got ears like a wolf." He turns to face you. "What did you tell them?"
"I said no. You and I go together every year."
"Atta girl." He sounds pleased.
You offer him some of your discarded olives and he bites them straight out of your fingers.
"Y'know, lots of girls were awfully disappointed you didn't ask them. When are you gonna get yourself a girlfriend, mister star quarterback?"
He leans down and ruffles your hair. "I got you in my life, don't I? That's plenty."
Eventually, his arm finds it's way to your shoulder, and he pulls you against his side. He's warmer than you and when you curl up against him, he smirks and says that's what you get for being hopelessly under dressed.
There's an old love song on the radio and you fall asleep with your hand knotted in his jacket.
He drives home extra slow and when he shakes you awake, his hands linger on your waist.
You rub your eyes groggily. "Goodnight mister wolf."
You're already halfway up the driveway before he replies, his voice too soft to hear.
"Goodnight little lamb."
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On the night of the full moon, you wake up to a cloudy sky and your dog scratching at your bedroom door to be let out.
You struggle into your slippers and mutter about better toilet training. When you open the back door, he slips past your legs and shoots off into the trees. Yawning, you rest your elbows on the porch railing and try not to fall asleep.
It's only when you hear him yelping that you come awake fully.
"Cruiser? What's wrong boy?"
The street lights reach all the way to the edge of your lawn but the trees beyond are black dark. You make you way down carefully, your sense of unease growing with every whistle he ignores.
Your dad left his old wind up torch near the shed and you grab it. It whirs to life with a dull flicker.
Cruiser is whimpering louder now. You follow the sound of it, ducking under branches and trying not to slip in your flimsy slippers.
The clouds clear and for a minute or two, the forest is bright enough that you barely need the torch. You find Crusier backed up against a tree, his tail tucked between his legs. He ignores you when you call him, staring out into the dark and whining like you've never heard before.
"What's wrong boy? What's out there?"
You can't help the fear you feel. Your dog is hard to scare and you've never seen him this frightened.
Twigs snap in the gloom and you swing your torch around wildly. You try and tell yourself that it might be a deer, wandering in from the deep forest. But all you can think about is the local paper.
"Chickens torn apart. Vet suspects large wolf on the prowl."
But it can't be here, right? You're practically on the main road. You reach down and grab Cruiser's collar, your heart racing. The dog barely acknowledges you when you tug on it.
"Heel Cruiser. C'mon boy."
You try and whisper, but your voice comes out high and nervous. His whimper changes into a low growl that vibrates through his collar.
That's when the moon comes out again. And you see the werewolf.
It's coat is dark and thick, and it's crouched halfway behind a tree. Less than twenty feet away.
How the hell did it get so close without you hearing it?! Adrenaline slams into you and your heart skips into overdrive. You turn on your heel and run.
The funny thing about adrenaline is the way your own body takes control. You duck under branches before your conscious mind even realises they're there. You run faster than you ever thought possible, trees streaking by in black blurs.
You hear footsteps behind you but you can't tell if it's Cruiser or the wolf. You don't bother checking. You just keep your head down and sprint like the Devil is on your heels. Hell, he might be.
The werewolf catches you just as you break out of the tree-line. It slams into you from the side and sends you sprawling.
As you scramble to your knees, you get your first good look at the terror of the town. It's bigger than any wolf you've ever seen. Closer to the size of a small grizzly, with the thick fur to match. It's down on all fours, but it's forelegs are unusually long. It's paws are strangely misshapen and for a second, they look almost like hands. It's body feels more ape than wolf.
Oh, but it's teeth are all canine. All sharp, curving fangs, shining with spit.
It sniffs the air and with a start you realise that you're bleeding. Your palms are sliced up from trying to cushion your fall. Blood, you think numbly. Blood is supposed to make carnivores more aggressive. Whett their appetite.
Staring up at its drooling maw and narrowed eyes, you find it hard to believe anything could be more bloodthirsty.
It lunges for your throat and if it weren't for Cruiser, you'd be dead.
The dog shoots out from the forest, barking loud enough to wake the neighbourhood. He jumps at the creature's back, sinking his teeth into the fleshy muscle where neck and shoulder meet.
The werewolf roars.
It reaches up and tears Cruiser off with one nasty yank. Your dog thuds into the ground with an ugly cracking sound.
You scream - half terror and half rage. Cruiser is trying to stand, but can't manage it. One paw hangs uselessly. Oh, your poor, brave dog.
You act without thinking.
You lunge forward and punch straight at the werewolf's nose. It's hard and wet, and your fist keeps going even after contact. His teeth leave shallow cuts on your knuckles.
The werewolf yelps. Like a kicked puppy.
It backs away a few steps before lowering it's head and snarling. It gears up for another pounce.
That's when your daddy shoots it. The blast from his shotgun knocks the werewolf right out of the air.
It crashes down and scrambles to its feet. Its head swings wildly between you and your father. It growls one final time before turning on its heel and bounding into the trees.
How the hell could it even stand after a blast like that? You shudder, your eyes fixed on the trees.
You can hear your dad on the phone, frantically reporting to the Sheriff's office. You sink to your knees next to Cruiser. He draws his eyes up to yours and whines.
"My brave boy..." You stroke his head with the back of your hand and accidentally stain his fur with blood. "I'm so sorry. I'm so damn sorry."
He cranes his neck and licks the tears off your cheek. Just like when he was a puppy. You laugh, high and hysterical. And once you start, you can't stop.
Somewhere in the forest, the wolf howls.
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You can't sleep at all after that. And when the Deputies question you, it takes almost all night. They don't believe you entirely, but the tracks their dogs pick up are strange enough to garner a few nervous looks.
You're on the porch, clutching a warm drink and watching the sunrise, when your best friend finds you.
He sweeps you up in a crushing hug, his cheek pressed firmly against your hair.
"Are you okay? I came as soon as I heard."
You pull away, confused. He cups your face in his hand and gently twists it left and right, scanning for any cuts or bruises.
"What? Who told you?"
He cooks his head. "You did. A few minutes ago."
Did you? You don't remember calling him. But you're tired and frightened. Maybe you just can't remember everything.
He sits you down on the porch swing and carefully inspects your palms while you tell him what happened.
"It wasn't a wolf. You believe me right? I saw it clear as day."
"You were pumped up on adrenaline and fighting for your life. You can't be sure what you saw." He sighs, "Maybe it was a wolf or maybe it was a bear or maybe it was some exotic animal that we've never heard about. But really y/n, it sure as hell wasn't a werewolf."
"Yeah... but..."
In the daylight, werewolves and horror feel silly. Illogical. You aren't a kid anymore, you shouldn't be letting your imagination run wild. There's definitely a reasonable explanation.
But every time you think about it, the more sure you feel. That creature was nothing normal or logical at all. It was wrong. Anatomy all out of proportion, eyes too bright and aware, the smell of it more like human sweat than dog musk.
No, you didn't imagine any of it. It wasn't a wolf at all.
"How's Cruiser doing?"
You take a sip of your drink and try not to cry. "Not good. The emergency vet came by and rushed him to surgery. Multiple broken bones they say, maybe some internal bleeding."
He sucks in a breath. "Oh y/n, I'm so sorry."
He opens his arms and you curl up against him gratefully. His letterman jacket is soft against your skin and the smell of him envelopes you.
"I still remember the day you got him for me," you say.
He rubs soothing circles across your back.
"He was such a runt back then. All eyes and big floppy ears. When you pulled him out of your jacket, I didn't realise he was a puppy. I thought you got me some weird stuffed teddy."
He laughs. "I tried putting a bow on him y'know. But he kept tryna bite my fingers off."
You laugh too. "I could never figure out why he didn't like you."
"Jealousy I say. Didn't want me to steal you away."
You punch his arm, smiling. "You're the only guy who'll compete with a dog for my attention."
"If that's what it takes. Put a leash on me right now if you want."
You scoff and curl up closer against him. "I would but they don't come in your size big guy."
You're too tired to notice the bruise on your best friend's nose, or the way he flinches when you touch his side. For a little while, you make the awful mistake of forgetting about the beast.
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Prom comes faster then you expect. Your dress gets measured and tailored and steamed. You spend days practicing different hair styles. Cruiser limps around behind you, whining for treats like he wasn't touch and go just a month ago. The moon grows thin and then round again.
When you pull up at your best friend's house, his parents are on their way to a party of their own. His mother gives you a peck on the cheek and says you look stunning and to not forget the keys when you leave.
You laugh and wave them off and almost forget about the full moon streaming through the trees.
The house is quiet and you make your way to his room, your heels hanging from your fingers.
"Hey princess!" You knock on his door. "Are you ready yet? I'm coming in!"
You open the door to an empty room, his tux still on its hanger.
"Oh. My. God. How are you still not done?"
You can hear the shower running and you pound at the door. "We're gonna be late! I swear I'm going to kill you when you get out of there."
No response.
"Hey! I know you can hear me!"
Still nothing.
You try the handle and the door swings open a crack. Steam billows out and you slap a hand over your eyes before you can see anything too revealing.
"Hurry it up! We're gonna miss all the good songs if you don't get dressed soon. Do you really wanna slow dance to something Mr Jared the gym teacher picks out?"
You hear the slap of footsteps on wet tile and breath a sigh of relief. "Did all that football practice knock your ears outta wack? I've been yelling at you since I got here."
Something growls, low and deep.
Your eyes shoot open and you step back. But you're still too slow to react and the werewolf leaps at you. Its heavier than a man and you tumble to the floor together, its paws pinning you down by the shoulders.
Its snout is right in front of your face, almost touching your nose. Lips curl away from awfully long fangs.
It growls almost like a man, almost like it's saying, "Mine."
You scream, kicking and tossing and failing to get away. It's claws prick holes in the satin of your dress and draw little beads of blood.
You scream your best friend's name, terrified that the beast got him too. You're going to die, you think desperately, you're going to die and your poor mother won't even be able to refund your prom dress. If you weren't screaming, you might have laughed.
But the monster doesn't kill you.
Instead, it licks the tears off your cheek. Just like Cruiser did a month ago. It growls again, but the sound is lighter. Pleased almost.
You grow still, confused and terrified of provoking it. Your best friend's room is cluttered with football gear - trophies and jerseys and signed helmets. The moon shines dully off all of it. And you're in the very centre, with a monster pinning you to the ground.
The moon dips behind a cloud and the werewolf changes right before your eyes. Hair and snout receding, his eyes darkening from wolf amber to warm brown.
It's only his teeth that stay the same. All sharp points that peak through his lips.
Your best friend is on top of you, totally naked and still warm from the shower.
"I didn't want to hurt you y/n, I swear."
His voice is lower somehow, like the wolf's growl is just under the surface.
You're too shocked to move. Too shocked to scream. This must be a dream. It's too surreal to be real.
He leans down and kisses you on the cheek. "I wanted to tell you. But it would have sounded crazy. I grow claws and teeth on the full moon? I heal faster than I used to? I can smell when you're ovulating and when you're on your period?"
He pulls back and tilts his head. "When we were kids, we promised we wouldn't keep secrets. And now you know."
"You...you were outside my house that night."
He laughs. "I'm outside your house every night dummy. That was just the night you caught me."
"Why?"
He shakes his head the way he always does when you say something dumb. "To keep you safe. To keep other animals away from you. To protect you, like I said I would."
His hands slip from your shoulders to your waist. "But now you know."
He grins, his teeth awfully sharp. "Now I can make you just like me."
He holds you down and kisses you and nips at your neck hard enough to draw blood. And when the clouds clear from the moon, you feel your teeth start to lengthen.
Something is terrorising your town. And you should have know better than to cross its path.
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