#I’m sorry it’s one of my biggest fixations and old I have the memory of a pencil shaving

[baepsaesbae]

Spring Will Come Again

Pairing— Jeon Jungkook x reader    

Genre— Photographer!Jungkook x Baker!reader, SMUT +18, fluff, angst, Virgin!Jungkook, Sub!Jungkook, Switch!Jungkook

Warnings— Finger sucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, squirting (?), slight choking, there are a lot of emotions, Jungkook is literally so sweet gosh I just wanna hold him tight, this fic is kind of a rollercoaster of emotions bc I myself do b going thru it

Word Count—  ~10.9k  

Summary— Springtime generally brings new beginnings, but being stuck in a small town all your life means nothing ever changes. Finally, something, or rather, someone, stumbles into your life. Can this shy boy manage to change your life forever?

A/N— This beautiful banner was made by @dee-ehn​! Please let me know what you think of this fic! Hope you guys enjoy~

It all started on a beautiful spring day. Something had convinced you to go on an unprecedented early morning walk for some reason. 

The morning air was cold but crisp. You were bundled up in your favorite sweater, and the scarf that your grandmother knitted for you was wrapped snugly around your neck. Normally you would be immersed in your headphones, but since today was already unusual you decided to forgo the music. 

You walked along the banks of the stream that flowed next to your neighborhood. This particular stream held nothing but fond memories. You grew up here with all the other kids. During the summer breaks, you’d play out here from morning to nightfall. This was the place where you saw your first fireflies, and where you won your first fist fight. 

You stopped to sit on the grassy hill that ran alongside the banks, relishing in nostalgia as you took in a breath of fresh air. Everything is so different now. Everyone moved away to pursue their careers or to go to a big university. You were the only one left. Your parents urged you to go to college, but you refused. Who else would help run the bakery? 

As much as you hated to see it, your parents were growing old. Managing the family bakery was getting harder on them. You were such a huge help to them since you basically managed all of the front-of-house work. They worked diligently in the kitchen every day to create the best baked goods in town. 

You had always dreamt of leaving this small town. You’ve fantasized about attending a big university in the middle of a bustling city since you were a little kid. Unfortunately, that can’t happen now. You can’t leave your parents or the bakery behind. You held no resentment though, you loved it. Being an only child was a bit lonely at times, but your parents made you feel loved no matter what.

You laid on the grassy hill, watching the clouds roll by. Maybe life was better this way. It was simple, and you always knew what to expect. Day in and day out, the routine was always the same. 

Everything changed on that day. That was the fateful day that you ran into him. Or rather, he ran into you. 

“Good morning, ____! Where were you this morning? Why weren’t you answering your phone?” your concerned mother asked when you returned home.

“Morning mom. I went on a walk and forgot my phone I guess. Sorry about that. I ended up laying on the hill by the stream,” you replied as you sat at the breakfast table.

Living with bakers was probably one of the biggest blessings in your life. Every meal smelled delectable and you had access to all the fresh goodies you could desire. 

“Wow, you were awake before we were? What a surprise. Here, tell me what you think of this loaf,” your dad set it in front of you.

You tossed a piece of bread into your mouth. The taste was savory to say the least. It was your father’s signature banana bread loaf, only this time with a small twist. 

“Why’d you take out the walnuts? It’s still delicious though,” you said, devouring another piece.

“Well so many customers complain about having nut allergies now. I thought we could sell more if we take them out! You think we can sell this?” he asked eagerly.

“I think this will be our newest best seller!” you happily replied, “I’m gonna go open up the shop. See you guys soon,” you kissed them each on the cheek before taking your leave.

The bakery was down the street from your house, so the commute was only about 5 minutes even if you walked slowly. You brought your phone with you this time, so you were jamming out to your music, oblivious to the outside world. You were so out of it, that you didn’t have time to react to the person quickly rounding the corner.

One moment you were walking to work, the next you were knocked onto the cold hard ground. Your assailant fell on top of you, and you soon locked eyes with him. It was as if time stood still for a moment. He was the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen. His eyes were wide with concern, and for a moment, you swore you saw stars twinkling within them. 

It took a second to register that this stranger was on top of you, in a compromising position no less. You’ve never been this close to a boy since...well it has been a while. Your legs were intertwined and his nose was only inches from yours. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I didn’t see you until the last second,” the boy apologized as he scrambled to get off of you. 

As he helped you up, you reassured him that you were fine. You laughed off the incident and took the boy by surprise. You had the most angelic laugh he’d ever heard. He stood awkwardly gazing at you, before you asked him if he was okay. 

“I-I’m fine! I’m glad you’re okay. I apologize again for being so careless,” he bowed.

“I’m also at fault! I wasn’t paying attention either. So shame on both of us,” you smiled to show him you were joking, “Enjoy the rest of your day, don’t run into anyone else!”

And with that, you parted ways. You forgot about the stranger as the morning rush piled into the bakery. 

Despite being located in a small town, your parent’s were nationally renowned bakers. The bakery was always busy. That was part of why you loved it so much, you were never bored. The regular customers were your favorite. Most of the townsfolk had been coming to the bakery since you were little. 

“Is this banana bread new?” Mrs. Park, the local florist, asked.

“Technically, yes. It’s the exact same recipe but without the walnuts,” you replied.

“Perfect! I’m not too fond of walnuts but I adore your parents’ banana bread,” Mrs. Park beamed, handing you a loaf along with other goods she picked up.

“How’s Jimin?” you asked as you rang her up.

“Oh he’s doing well! He loves it out there in the big city. At first, I was terrified of letting him go. He’s just always been so passionate about dancing, I finally had to cave in. He recently auditioned to be part of some fancy dance crew, and he got in! Can you believe it?” Mrs. Park began to dote on her son.

“That’s amazing! I’m happy for him,” you smiled.

“You know, ____, Jimin is still single. You two would be perfect together--”

“Long distance relationships are hard, Mrs. Park,” your mother interrupted her, swooping in to save the day. Thank god. You wouldn’t have known how to react. 

“She could always move out to the city to be with him!” Mrs. Park retorted, not picking up on the awkward situation she created. 

“I could never leave the bakery,” you responded quickly.

“Ah, yes that’s right. You have such a good daughter, Mrs. _____. Jimin never took any interest in taking over the family business. I’m jealous of you!” Mrs. Park said to your mom.

After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Park finally left. You were fond of her, but she never knew when to stop talking. Jimin was a good friend of yours growing up. You never wanted to admit that you had a huge crush on him. You figured it wouldn’t have mattered anyway, since he was so fixated on moving out. 

The morning rush had died down. You took this opportunity to restock and tidy things up before the afternoon rush. The store bell rang, indicating the arrival of another customer.

“Welcome in! I’ll be with you shortly,” you called out from behind the counter. 

“No worries, thanks!” the customer yelled back.

Once finished, you popped up with a bright smile on your face. Your parents taught you to always greet the customers with a smile as soon as they walk in. 

However, the customer wasn’t facing your direction. He was looking at the baked goods that aligned the opposite wall. You patiently waited for him to make his selection. He kept walking back and forth, eyeing all of the baked items. You left your station behind the counter and approached him.

“Can I help you with anything, sir?” you piped up behind him.

The man jumped back, startled.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you,” you apologized.

“It’s okay! I didn’t hear you at all. You must be some sort of ninja-- Oh it’s you!” the boy turned around to face you.

It was the gorgeous boy who ran into you earlier. 

“Hello again! I guess it was my turn to frighten you,” you joked.

“That’s fair,” he nodded, “What’s the best thing here?”

“Mmm that’s hard for me to say, considering that I love them all. What kind of tastes and textures do you like?” your customer service persona kicked in. 

“I like sweet things I guess? I like bananas too…” he trailed off.

“We don’t have any bananas in fruit form, but we do have killer banana bread,” you beamed.

“That sounds good, but I don’t really like nuts so--”

“There are no nuts in our new recipe! You must be lucky, this is the first day that we’ve started selling them. Want me to ring you up a loaf?” you interrupted him.

“Oh no nuts? Okay, I’ll try it,” he agreed quietly.

“Would you still like to get something sweet as well?” 

“Yeah, if that’s okay,” he nodded timidly.

“Of course it’s okay! My personal favorite is our milk pudding bun. The pudding in the middle is pretty creamy plus the bread is unbelievably soft! If that’s not for you, then we have a classic chocolate bun filled with, surprise surprise, chocolate. We also have…” you led the boy around the entire bakery.

You were too focused on recommending various breads to notice him stealing glances at you that lingered longer than normal. He patiently let you talk his ear off about the goodies.

“I’ll go with the milk pudding bun,” he smiled shyly.

“That was the first one! You should’ve stopped me from rambling,” you huffed.

“I wanted to know my options. Plus you seemed pretty happy,” he added softly.

“Alright, let’s go check you out then,” you headed to the counter, “I haven’t seen you before. What brings you to our little town?” you attempted to make conversation.

“Mmm, to get away, I guess,” the boy said after a pause.

“Are you in some sort of trouble?” you leaned over the counter to whisper.

“Kind of,” he whispered back.

“Stay right here, I can call the police,” you frantically murmured as you whipped out your phone.

“No no! Not like that,” he couldn’t contain his laughter, “I’m a fine arts student. My main focus is photography, but lately I haven’t been able to capture anything worth printing,” he explained.

“Ohhh,” you said, feeling dumb, “Then why come to a town in the middle of nowhere? You won’t find much here.”

“To an untrained eye, maybe so. But to a professional, beauty can be found anywhere,” he said proudly.

“Then why can’t you find anything back home? And aren’t you still a student?” you questioned.

“You know, I was really hoping that you’d let me have that,” the boy deflated.

“Aw, I’m sorry! If you ever want to take photos of the beauty that is bread, you’re always welcome here,” you smiled.

“I might take you up on that offer,” he said as he grabbed the purchased goods, “What’s your name by the way?”

“____. Yours?”

“Jeon Jungkook.”

“I’ll see you around, Mr. Jeon Jungkook. Oh! And if you’d like a tour of the town, I’d be more than happy to show you around,” you suggested.

“That would be nice,” Jungkook pondered, “Where can I find you?”

“I’m here every day. I get off at 3pm,” you answered.

“Cool. I’ll drop by tomorrow, if that’s okay?”

“Sure! See you then!” you waved goodbye.

“Who was that?” your mother asked when the boy left.

“Some photography student that said he wanted to get away for some inspiration. I offered to give him a tour tomorrow after work,” you explained. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” your dad offered.

“I’ll be fine on my own, thanks,” you quickly turned him down.

You spent the next morning frantically flip flopping between outfits. Should you go with a pretty top paired with a skirt? Or perhaps keep it casual with a t-shirt and jeans? Or should you go with a simple dress? You know you’re supposed to be a tour guide, but you still wanted to look somewhat presentable. You settled for the dress. It gave off a “cute but not trying too hard” type of vibe. 

Time seemed to slowly drag on as you waited for Jungkook to return. You had already mapped out your route, making sure it was efficient (not like there’s much to see anyway). You wanted to surprise him with a picnic at the end of the tour. Hopefully it could help show off the natural beauty of the forests and meadows that surrounded the town. As the clock approached 3pm, you began to wonder if springing a surprise picnic on a stranger was odd. Oh god, what if it was? You hadn’t had much interaction with people your age once all your friends went off to live their own lives. Panic was starting to set in when the front bell chimed.

“Hey! I’m a little early, but I can wait around until you’re finished,” Jungkook greeted you. You noticed a fancy looking camera dangling around his chest.

“It’s all good! Business has been slow today, I’ve been bored,” you admitted.

“Oh I see--” Jungkook was cut off.

“Hi! I’m ____’s mom. Did you like the bread you bought yesterday?” your mom materialized out of nowhere with a pan of fresh bread in her hands.

“It was delicious! Better than anything I could get in the city,” Jungkook complimented.

“Why did you batch a new batch? No one has come in after 1pm,” you aggressively whispered to your mom. 

“I got bored,” she pouted, “Here, have one! On the house, think of it as a welcoming present to our town,” she motioned for Jungkook to take a fresh loaf off the tray.

Jungkook’s face lit up at the offer as he thanked her for the snack. His smile lingered as he took a bite, savoring the taste.

“You must have some sort of good luck charm; you’re getting even more free food later,” you chuckled as you plopped a wicker basket onto the checkout counter.

“Sweet,” he beamed. 

You let out a small sigh of relief. It didn’t seem like Jungkook was creeped out by the thought of eating with a stranger. With the basket in hand, you led Jungkook across the town. There truly wasn’t much to see. Your family’s bakery was in line with the rest of the town’s shops. You passed by the florist, the cafe, the grocery store, and the post office within the first 3 minutes just by walking down the street. You added in little personal stories with each business that you pointed out. 

Jungkook paused by the flower shop, in awe of all the beautiful arrangements. His eyes scanned the outside displays, as if he was looking for something. 

“Need something specific, dear?” Mrs. Park asked her potential customer. 

“Do you have Tiger flowers?” he inquired.

“Tiger… No, but I can probably order some for you,” she offered.

“Ah, that’s alright. I’m sorry to bother you,” Jungkook apologized before rejoining you.

“Did you wanna take a picture of that specific flower?” you asked him as you strolled along the sidewalk.

“Yeah, it’s my birth flower,” he shyly nodded.

“Oh nice! I don’t know what my birth flower is, but yours sounds pretty. Ah, here is the town square. Over there is the courthouse/government building/boring stuff happens in there probably,” you said as you pointed out the building.

“This is cool,” Jungkook examined a decrepit well that stood in front of the courthouse.

“I guess. I always thought it would be better if they replaced it with a big pretty fountain or something,” you mentioned as you looked down into the dark abyss of the well.

Jungkook said nothing as he began taking pictures of the well from various angles. You watched him frown at each picture he took before he tried to take another. 

“Maybe you could take a picture looking into the well? I mean, you’d probably have to stand on it to get a full shot and your feet will be in it but…” you suggested before realizing that you knew nothing about photography.

Jungkook immediately hopped onto the well, disregarding the loose pebbles that crumbled away under his weight. Pointing the camera directly down into the well, he snapped a couple of pictures. He didn’t bother hopping off of the well before scrolling through the pictures he just took. You caught yourself staring at him, admiring his features. His eyebrows were furrowed in concentration, his lips were pursed, and the wind was blowing his bangs over his forehead ever so slightly. He really was a handsome boy, though he seemed to be completely unaware of it. 

“How’d it turn out?” you asked as he climbed down.

“Not bad actually. Better than the angles I took at first,” Jungkook smiled with approval, “I’ll show you after I touch them up.”

“I’m excited to see! Also, this basically concludes the tour because everything else is residential stuff. Unless you wanna take pictures of random people’s homes,” you joked.

“I’m good. Is this where we’re eating? I kinda skipped lunch,” Jungkook looked at the wicker basket in your hand.

“Nope! I’m gonna take you somewhere special. Are you okay with a bit of light hiking?”

“Sounds fun,” Jungkook grinned. 

“Perfect! Now it’s your turn to lug this thing around,” you said as you handed him the deceptively heavy basket. 

You took him to the outskirts of town, where nature was left untouched.

“Is this where all the cool kids have their picnics?” Jungkook asked as you led him down an old trail.

“All the cool kids left this town a while ago, so I can’t speak on their behalf. However, this is where I like to have my picnics so take that in whatever way you please,” you responded.

It was a sunny day on the verge of being too hot, but the densely wooded forest provided enough shade to make it comfortable. Your parents used to take you on walks in these woods when you (and they) were younger. Of course, now the hilly paths and loose soil would only wreak havoc on your parents’ old knees. You’ve grown accustomed to exploring on your own. Bringing Jungkook along was a pleasant change. 

“You okay with eating here?” you suddenly stopped, pointing over to a field just off the trail.

“I’ll eat anywhere, I’m starving,” Jungkook quickly nodded. 

“I’m fully aware of that; I could barely hear the birds chirping over the sounds of your stomach growling,” you teased.

An old tree that was large enough to cover up the entire picnic blanket with shade proved to be the ideal spot. Jungkook set down the wicker basket that you assigned to him earlier, eagerly waiting for you to finally open it.

“On the menu today we have fruits as an appetizer, ham and cheese sandwiches in homemade croissants as the main course, and last but not least, chocolate buns for dessert,” you proudly showcased each item.

“I never knew bread could taste so heavenly until I went to your bakery. I’m happy I walked in,” Jungkook praised as he wolfed down his sandwich.

“It’s not my bakery, it’s my parents’ bakery,” you corrected him as you ate the fruit.

“Don’t you work in it nearly every day? I don’t see how it’s not your bakery too,” Jungkook insisted.

“I’m not the one running the business,” you argued.

“You seem to put in the same amount as work as them. Instead of baking, you’re handling all of the customers. That’s gotta count for something, right?” Jungkook persisted. 

“Fine, I guess you could say it’s a family bakery. Happy?” you huffed, clearly annoyed.

  “Hey, I wasn’t trying to make you angry. I’m sorry if I overstepped,” Jungkook apologized, putting his sandwich down, “I wanted to let you know how much I love your family’s bread, that’s all.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped at you. It’s just…” your trailed off as you gazed at the blue sky.

“I don’t want to pry, but I’m happy to sit here and listen,” Jungkook offered. 

“I don’t want to scare you away by dumping my personal issues on you,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“I don’t think you could do that, ____,” Jungkook assured you. 

Your eyes widened ever so slightly since he caught you off guard with his sincerity, but soon you gave him a soft smile.

“Fine, since we’re just sitting here anyway,” you caved as you picked up your sandwich, “I wish I wasn’t here anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I love my parents and I love the bakery. I just wish I got to go to a big city somewhere and attend a real university. I don’t know what I’d study, I just know that I thought my life would be different by now,” you turn away from him to hide your watery eyes.

“It’s not all that great,” Jungkook responded after a short pause, “I came from a small town too. The only difference was that it was along a beach, not by a forest. Wait, the location doesn’t matter,” he quietly scolded himself, “What I’m trying to say is that I did get away from my hometown. I was so excited to finally be a city kid. I didn’t realize how overwhelming it would be. Now look at me. I’m a senior in college with no direction in life. That’s what I get for choosing a career with no job security,” he chuckled as he looked down at the camera around his neck. 

“But are you doing what you love?” you quietly asked.

“I think so. Are you?” he asked back.

“I think so,” you sighed, finally turning to look at him. 

“I could always take you back to the city with me,” Jungkook flashed you a big bunny smile.

“Don’t joke with me like that. I hate getting my hopes up,” you playfully punch him in the arm. 

“I’m not joking!” he yelped in surprise.

The conversation turned into a more cheerful one. You both spoke about your dreams, both childhood and present day. It was fun talking with Jungkook as you both watched the clouds roll by without a care in the world. 

“Maybe you could get some pretty shots of some wildlife while we’re out here,” you recommended when the conversation came to a pause.

“Do you want to model for me?” Jungkook asked.

“Huh?” his sudden proposal surprised you.

“It’s completely okay if you don’t want to! Actually, just forget I said anything,” Jungkook looked down at the camera in his hands in a futile attempt to hide his flushed cheeks. 

“Just tell me how to pose,” you smiled, already getting up.

“Uh, just act natural,” he said awkwardly as you leaned against the thick tree trunk.

At first, you made some silly poses that made Jungkook laugh. To be honest, you only did that because you really didn’t know how to pose next to the tree while making it look natural. Forcing a smile, you attempted to lean on the tree like as if it were another person. 

“You don’t have to fake a smile,” Jungkook called from behind the camera.

“I don’t know what to do!” you called back.

“Act natural!”

“How do I do that?”

“Naturally!”

His response rewarded him a sarcastic eye roll, followed by a burst of laughter. Jungkook furiously clicked his camera as you laughed even harder. He praised you for ‘being in your natural state’ as he took shots from ridiculous angles. He gave you a thumbs up after he was satisfied with the impromptu photoshoot.

“Is laughing until I can’t breathe just me being in my natural state?” you asked playfully as you sat back down on the picnic blanket.

“It was authentic, so I would say so. I wish I could capture sound too, your laugh is so cute,” Jungkook said nonchalantly as he scrolled through the photos.

His eyes widened as soon as he realized what he said. He opened his mouth to try and take it back, or at least cover it up. He looked over at you shyly, only to see that you were digging out dessert from the basket. He let out a sigh of relief. Thankfully, you didn’t hear him. 

“How were the pictures?” you asked, scooting to sit beside him after handing him the dessert.

“See for yourself,” he proudly showed you.

You were amazed by his talent. Even without editing, the photos looked like they were ready to be submitted into a contest. Everything looked so perfect. Your smile was genuine, the lighting was optimal, and your hair looked surprisingly good. You applauded him for his talent, to which he bashfully denied by saying he was still such an amatuer. You both finally dug into the desserts. 

“These chocolate buns were amazing,” Jungkook licked his lips after he finished it.

“They’re my personal favorite! They’re also the best things that I can make on my own,” you winked at him as you finished yours.

“You made these?” Jungkook’s doe eyes filled with awe.

“Yep! Don’t act so surprised,” you pouted.

“Sorry, it’s just that you told me your parents bake everything. These were really good! Probably the best things I’ve had since--oh wait. You have a little something,” Jungkook leaned forward to wipe the corner of your mouth with his thumb. 

You both froze for a second, in shock of this intimate gesture. Jungkook’s mouth opened to apologize, but you stopped him before he had the chance. Without thinking about it, you put your mouth around his thumb. You sucked on it for a second before you snapped back to reality. You started apologizing profusely the instant his thumb left your mouth. 

“It’s okay! I shouldn’t have touched you in the first place,” Jungkook shied away from you, refusing to look you in the eyes. 

“I don’t know what came over me,” you apologized as you grabbed his hand.

Jungkook looked at you with an embarrassed expression the moment you held his hand in yours. At first you didn’t realize why he was so embarrassed, you were the one sucking his thumb. But then, you noticed Jungkook sheepishly resting his other hand in his lap.

“Jungkook,” you said sweetly.

“Yes?” he answered, his eyes averting yours once more. 

“Do you want me to do it again?”

“Huh?” he looked back at you with disbelief. 

You made a bold move as you moved to straddle his lap, each leg settling beside his waist. You brought his hand up to your mouth and batted your eyes innocently.

“Like this,” you say before licking his pointer finger. 

Jungkook gulped while slowly nodding his head, giving you permission to continue. His eyes stayed glued on you as you wrapped your lips around his finger. You dragged your flattened out tongue from the base to the tip. You then reversed this motion, but instead only using the tip of your tongue. You began to work on his middle finger as well. It was hard to fit his long fingers in your mouth, but you’re no quitter. Your tongue weaved between his fingers, adequately coating them with your saliva.

Jungkook’s breaths quickened the longer you went on. You felt a bulge grow between your thighs as you straddled him. Perhaps wearing a dress was a great idea after all. Your hips began to move on their own as you slowly grinded on Jungkook. 

“____…” Jungkook moaned quietly when you daringly took three fingers into your mouth.

Rubbing your clothed pussy against his hard crotch spurred you on even more. Drool was dribbling down Jungkook’s arm and your chin, but neither of you cared. It just made you look more erotic to him. His other hand was on your hip to help you maintain a rhythm. You opened your eyes to make contact with his as you suckled his fingers. That’s all it took to make him come undone.

He quickly pushed you off of him as he cried out. You were both too shocked to say anything for a few seconds. Jungkook seemed too embarrassed to look you in the eyes again, his cheeks bright red.

“Jungkook, I--” you started to apologize.

“You probably think I’m pretty lame huh? Cumming in my pants like some sort of middle schooler,” he looked down in defeat. 

“What? No, of course not!” you disagreed.

“Don’t lie,” Jungkook refused to believe you.

“Jungkook, that was honestly the hottest thing I’ve ever done. What we just did was hotter than when I was actually having sex,” you tried to cheer him up. 

“You’re not lying?” Jungkook finally looked up at you with sad puppy dog eyes.

“I swear I’m not. I could help you clean it up, if you’d like,” you offered. 

“I think that would make me feel worse. Just hand me some napkins and I’ll go take care of it myself,” he declined.

You packed everything up while you waited for Jungkook to return. He discreetly threw away the ball of used napkins into the designated trash bag, praying to god that you weren’t looking. 

The walk back was quiet and awkward. Neither of you knew what to say. You were horrified with how you acted; you’ve never been so bold before. Jungkook was ashamed of cumming before he had the chance to do anything to you. He felt so pathetic. 

“I’m sorry for making you so uncomfortable, Jungkook,” you finally apologized.

“Are you kidding? You think I would cum that fast if I was uncomfortable?” Jungkook looked at you with incredulity, “I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m disgusting and came in my pants while you did all the hard work.”

“You’re not disgusting at all, Jungkook. I enjoyed it too. I can’t remember the last time I was that horny,” you laughed.

All the tension in the air had disappeared. Jungkook bounced back to being his cheery self. The conversation went back to normal as you brought him back to the bakery. You hugged him goodbye and were about to leave when he caught your hand.

“Thank you so much for the tour. I know we’ve only known each other for a day but... would you like to go on a date with me?” Jungkook asked with a hopeful look in his eyes.

“No,” you said firmly, watching his shoulders fall, “I’d love to go on a date with you,” you smirked.

“You jerk!” Jungkook gasped. 

You couldn’t help it, he was too easy to tease. After working out the details, it was decided that he would come pick you up on Friday night. 

Jungkook took you to basically the only restaurant in town (that wasn’t the cafe). It was a family run Italian eatery, and it took Jungkook by surprise.

“Is everyone in this place a master chef or something? This is delicious!” he praised as he ate his pasta.

“I guess it’s the authenticity of family recipes? You probably eat at more chain restaurants while you’re in the city,” you shrugged as you twirled noodles around your fork.

The date went on pleasantly. Jungkook wanted to know as much about you as you did him. The conversations you had were lively and fun; there was never a dull moment with him. Something about him just automatically clicked with you.

“What’s your favorite thing to photograph?” you asked.

“I like taking pictures of landscapes and buildings. That’s why I was super excited about going to a university in the city. It’s a lot easier than taking pictures of people! Unfortunately, that’s where the money is right now,” he explained.

“You don’t like taking pictures of people?”

“Not really, no,” he answered bluntly.

“Then why did you ask me to model for you?” you were genuinely curious.

Jungkook froze in his seat. He took a long sip of his drink before answering you. 

“For practice, I suppose,” he said softly. 

“I’m happy I was able to help then,” you smiled, thinking nothing of it. 

Jungkook seemed grateful that you didn’t press for more details, and was soon coaxed out of his shy shell once the topic of anime came around. You were happy that he took you out on a proper date, you hadn’t been on one in so long.

He walked you back under the pale moonlight. You were admiring the twinkling stars when you realized that Jungkook hadn’t said anything in a while. His hand awkwardly brushed against yours when you first left the restaurant, but you didn’t think much of it. Jungkook seemed to be thinking hard about something as he walked alongside you. You were going to say something when the back of his hand brushed against yours again. He instantly pulled away and uttered a small “sorry”.

“What’s wrong, Jungkook?” you were worried now, you thought the date went well. 

“Nothing…,” his voice trailed off as he looked away.

You interlocked his pinky with yours without a word. Jungkook looked over at you with surprise, but said nothing. He admonished himself for not committing to hold your hand, but he was happy with this too. In fact, he thought it was cuter than actual hand holding.

You arrived in front of your house. Bidding Jungkook goodnight, you went in for a hug. Jungkook also went in for a hug, but he leaned the same way you did. In a quick bumble, your lips grazed the corner of Jungkook’s, causing you to jump back. You stood in Jungkook’s arms, looking away in embarrassment. He brought up one of his hands to cup your cheek, forcing you to look back at him. His eyes sparkled under the moonlight as he gazed into yours. 

Slowly, you found yourself leaning forward. Jungkook met you in the middle, his lips finding yours. It was a tender kiss, sweet and soft. You broke it off after a couple seconds to giggle, but Jungkook pulled you back into it. He kissed you gently, yet with so much passion. You reciprocated his affection as your fingers intertwined with his hair, deepening the kiss.

He finally pulled away, smiling back at you. To be honest, you wish it lasted longer. However, you knew you would have had a hard time controlling yourself if it did.

“Thank you for dinner,” you thanked him with a soft voice.

“Of course, thank you for accompanying me,” he bowed like a gentleman and kissed your hand. You couldn’t help but laugh at his gesture.

“Too much?” he tilted his head.

“Don’t change a thing,” you continued to laugh. 

All sorts of thoughts about Jungkook swam in your mind as you fell asleep that night. 

Jungkook soon began to hangout with you every day. When he wasn’t out trying to take pictures, he would be in the bakery keeping you company. Your parents teased him, saying that he better buy something or else they’d kick him out, but they never did. In fact, your mom would always sneak him some freshly baked goods. 

After work, you and Jungkook would spend even more time together. It didn’t matter if you guys were exploring nature, cooling off in the stream, or just watching movies; you enjoyed it all. It was nice having someone to talk to for a change. Jungkook never asked to make plans with you, he just assumed you guys would hangout the next day when he said “see ya tomorrow!”

You knew you had a crush on Jungkook, but you didn’t know how he felt. Yes, he took you on a date. Yes, you’ve kissed. Yes, you made in cum in his pants (not necessarily in that order). You were waiting on him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You didn’t want to pressure him, especially when you knew that he’d be going back to school in the fall. 

One day, much to your chagrin, Jungkook was helping you with inventory. You argued that he shouldn’t work since he wasn’t getting paid, but he smiled and replied that spending time with you was all the payment he needed. You were too flustered to argue after that.

“Great, everything has been accounted for! Can you help me put this box back up there?” you asked him, nodding your head at a particularly high shelf that was out of your reach. You grabbed a step stool for him to make it easier.

Jungkook lifted up the heavy box of supplies with ease, and placed it back on the shelf. He looked down at you and smiled.

“What?” you cocked your head.

He said nothing as he leaned down and kissed your forehead, “You just look cute from up here.”

You looked away as you blushed, not knowing what to say. Jungkook laughed as he got down from the step stool. He teased you about it for the rest of the day.

Days flew by as it was getting closer and closer to Jungkook’s departure. You let Jungkook decide on what to do during his last day there. He picked you up at the bakery after your shift. He wanted to take one last stroll with you around town before he had to leave. You were about to hug him goodbye when he invited you over, saying that he had a box of popcorn he needed help finishing.

After watching a couple movies, Jungkook had his arms around you as you rested your head on his shoulder. Cuddling had become a norm between you two. Jungkook suddenly nudged your side, causing you to shriek.

“Sorry, just making sure you were still awake,” he giggled.

“I was, but now I definitely am,” you said as you returned the favor and tickled his sides.

It soon became a war of tickling as laughter erupted from both of you. Jungkook was just as ticklish as you were, making it a deadly battle. Before you knew it, you were straddling Jungkook, gripping both of his wrists in your hands. You both stared at each other as the laughter subsided, now replaced with heavy breathing. 

“You could easily knock me over, you know,” you said as you lowered your nose to his.

“What if I don’t want to?” he whispered back.

He moved his head upwards to kiss you, catching you by surprise. You kissed him back, pushing him back down. You lowered your hips to rest on his hardened crotch. You let go of his wrists to help him take off his shirt before removing your own. 

Once your lips connected again, Jungkook’s hands moved freely over your body, gently caressing your breasts. He treated you so tenderly, it made you even hornier. Your hands reached down to unzip his pants.

“Is this okay?” you paused to ask.

“Only if you take off your pants too,” he answered with a smirk.

Soon enough you were both down to just your underwear. You palmed Jungkook’s erection, curious to see it. It already felt huge in comparison to your hands.

“I want to fuck you, _____,” Jungkook groaned as you kissed his neck.

“I’m glad we want the same thing. Where do you want me?” you cooed. 

“Like this is fine,” he quickly answered. 

He helped you take off his underwear, revealing his massive dick. Your pussy clenched at the sight of it. You wriggled out of your panties and positioned yourself on top of him. 

“Ready?” you asked.

Jungkook just nodded, his eyes wide with anticipation. He gulped as he watched you slowly lower yourself onto him, taking in each inch slowly. You moaned as he went deeper and deeper in you. You hadn’t had sex in a long time (and admittedly it wasn’t very good). Now, you were sopping wet and Jungkook was filling you up perfectly. Once you reached the base of his dick, you took your time going back up.

From the look on Jungkook’s face, he was in pure bliss. You continued to tease him as you fucked him slowly. You transitioned from taking his entire length to just swiveling around his tip, making him moan from the overstimulation. Jungkook dug his nails into your lower back, begging you to take all of him in again.

You leaned back over and peppered kisses along his chest and up his neck. Jungkook whimpered at the sensation, his breathing grew uneven. You giggled at him as you suckled on his neck, leaving wet kisses in your wake. Once you had enough of teasing him, you slammed back down onto him, and both your moans filled the room. Your hips began to move faster as you bounced on top of him. Jungkook’s grip on you tightened. 

“I--I’m gonna cum,” he panicked.

You immediately hopped off, hoping to edge him. He whimpered at the loss of your warm pussy, but your plan seemed to work. His eyes begged you to get back on top. 

“Now it’s your turn to fuck me,” you demanded as you laid down on your back.

Jungkook complied and positioned himself between your legs. He bent over to kiss you while he pushed his cock back inside of you. He took his time at first, but then tried to pick up the pace. His movements were awkward and stiff, and his pelvis hit your hips in a way that you knew they were going to bruise later.

“Jungkook, just relax,” you commanded.

Jungkook steadied his breathing and took your advice. He was finally able to find a rhythm and stuck to it. Luckily, it was the perfect rhythm for you as he continuously grazed your g-spot. Jungkook moaned with every stroke as your warm insides squeezed around him. You wrapped your legs around him, bringing him even closer. You looked up at him to see that the usual sweet star filled doe eyes of his had switched to a version of pure ecstasy as he gazed down at you with blown out pupils. The change was a little jarring, but also incredibly sexy when you realized the potential duality Jungkook could have. You pulled him into a deep kiss, tongues exploring foreign regions as he pounded into you. 

“I’m gonna--,” his breath hitched.

“Cum on me baby,” you panted as you furiously rubbed your clit, desperate to cum with him.

With perfect timing, Jungkook got to feel you cum around him for a few seconds before he had to pull out and finish all over your chest. He gave you a quick peck on the cheek before scurrying off to find something to clean you with. 

He rested his head on your chest as you held him close. You were falling asleep when he said something.

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked him since you barely heard him.

“I am, well I guess was, a virgin,” Jungkook admitted.

“Oh,” you tried to mask your surprise.

“I didn’t wanna say anything. I mean, how lame is it that I’m a college senior and have never gotten laid. You’re probably surprised huh? I’m not lying, I swear.”

“I am surprised, but only because you seem like ladies would be all over you. You’re so handsome, funny, charming--”

“Yes yes keep going,” Jungkook joked.

“--and a genuinely good guy. Plus I feel like being a photographer would help you meet a lot of pretty girls,” you reasoned.

“While all of that is true, the real reason is pretty embarrassing. I’m...I’ve always been kinda scared of girls,” Jungkook sighed as you tried to suppress your laughter, “I’m not kidding! I always get so nervous around girls, I could never actually talk to them.”

“So am I not a girl in your eyes?” you teased.

“You’re a woman,” he answered cockily.

“Shut up! I hope your first time was enjoyable. Thanks for entrusting me with your v card,” you laughed.

You both continued joking and laughing the night away until you fell asleep in each other’s arms. While that night was enjoyable, it made Jungkook’s absence hurt more. 

Life had sunk back into the same mundane routines once Jungkook left. Of course, he still kept in touch. He would text and video call you as often as he could. He’d send you pictures of his newest shooting locations, and you’d always be the first person he’d show his finished products. 

You loved witnessing Jungkook’s passion grow, he had a new spark in him that wasn’t there before. With your encouragement as an extra shove, he applied to his dream job. He explained to you that it was with an agency that would send him to a random country where he’d work with a participating magazine company. You secretly envied him for even having the possibility of exploring the world. 

Days and weeks started to blend together. Your parents insisted on having you help out more in the kitchen, presumably to get your mind off of Jungkook. 

It was a weird fling you had with him. However, it also didn’t seem like a fling. Most flings didn’t still keep in touch in a long distance “friendship”, or whatever it was you had. You were never officially dating, but it sure as hell felt that way. You cursed yourself for waiting for him to ask, you should’ve just done it yourself. Of course, part of you felt like you’d just hold him back if you guys actually ended up dating. 

These thoughts constantly swarmed your mind. Ironically, the only time you weren’t thinking about your dilemma was when you were chatting with Jungkook. The end of the semester was quickly approaching, and you could tell that he was getting antsy. He hadn’t gotten offers from anywhere that he applied. You could do nothing but give him hope but assuring him that someone somewhere will hire him. 

You watched snow fall outside when you got a call. 

“I GOT IN!!!” Jungkook exclaimed.

“What?! Where?!” you jumped up in excitement.

“My top choice! The one where they send me to another country! Guess where I’m going,” he sing songed.

“Umm… Italy?”

“Close! I’m going to España,” he said with a spanish accent.

“That’s amazing, Jungkook. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. When do you leave?” you asked.

“In a week. God, I’m so excited! Oh, my parents are calling. I’ll talk to you later?”

“Of course. Congrats again,” you cheered before he hung up.

Before you knew it, you were crying. You were honestly happy for Jungkook, but reality hit you. You were never going to be able to tell him that you loved him. You were never going to be with him, not while you’re stuck in this town. It sucked, but you had no choice but to accept that. 

Two days had passed since that phone call. Jungkook was probably busy packing and working out minor details, so you stayed out of his way. You figured things would probably be like this from now on. Why would he bother talking to a small town girl while he’s out exploring the world? 

You were restocking the milk puddings rolls when the front bell chimed. 

“I’ll be with you in a second,” you called out.

“No worries, I’ll wait all day if I have to,” a familiar voice responded.

You dropped the rolls as you turned around with lightning fast speed. Jungkook stood at the doorway, beaming a big bunny smile at you. You ran to him, embracing him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead. 

“Surprise,” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” you asked as you wiped tears from your eyes.

“I needed to see you. I was planning on coming back and surprising you even before I left. You didn’t think I’d leave without saying goodbye, did you?” he ruffled your hair, “Oh, and those tiger flowers are beautiful,” he nodded over to the flower bouquet on the checkout counter.

“I got them because they reminded me of you,” you blushed, your ears turning red.

“Did I hear Jungkook?” you mom poked her head out of the kitchen, “Oh my goodness! Honey look! Jungkook is back!” she called your dad. 

Your parents came out to greet him. He explained everything to them, and they congratulated him. 

“How long will you be here? Aren’t you leaving soon?” your dad inquired.

“I leave tomorrow night. I wish I could stay longer,” Jungkook answered solemnly. 

“____ suddenly doesn’t have to work until after you’ve left,” your mom smiled fondly at you.

Your eyes lit up as you kissed your parents on the cheek to thank them. After grabbing your jacket, you took Jungkook’s hand and dragged him out. You both aimlessly walked around the town as you chatted. He went more in depth with the details of his job. He was most excited about capturing photos of the city. After looking up some pictures of the architecture, he immediately fell in love with Madrid.

Jungkook invited you over to watch some of the short films he worked on over the past semester. While they were just videos of his friends with no plot, you could feel their friendship seeping through the screen. The way Jungkook played with music and colors really enhanced the already well shot video. You felt at peace sitting beside Jungkook on his bed as he showed you all his past projects. Part of you wished that this moment would never end. 

“You’ve made me a better person, you know,” Jungkook said out of nowhere, “I’m more talkative around my friends, and I’ve gotten more comfortable with being myself.”

“I didn’t do anything, that’s all you,” you smiled as you poked his chest. 

“You definitely helped,” he ran his fingers through your hair, “I love you, ____.”

Your heart skipped a beat.

“I love you too. I thought I’d never get to say that,” you said with a sigh of relief. 

He looked into your eyes before leaning forward slowly. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, you practically pounced on him. You kissed him passionately, as if to show him how much you missed him. Clothes were thrown in every direction leading to bare skin being exposed.

Jungkook’s soft hands roamed across your body as if he were trying to memorize your every curve. His touch was a bit rougher than the last time, his lips crashed against yours as he pinched your nipples. You couldn’t tell if it was desperation, carnal lust, or just a new side of Jungkook, but you didn’t mind in the slightest. His erection pressed against your thigh as your hands tangled themselves in his dark hair. You reached down to grab his cock, gripping from the base and slowly dragging your hand to the tip and then back down. He shuddered at the sensation, moaning into your mouth. 

“Should I get on top?” you batted your eyes.

“Nope, I have a better idea,” Jungkook growled as he flipped you over onto your knees, “Can I fuck you like this?”

“Fuck me however you want,” you answered gleefully. 

Jungkook rammed into you without hesitation. He firmly gripped your hips to keep you in place as he thrusted into you. His dick sent waves of ecstasy as he crashed into you. He surprised you when he reached his hand around you to play with your clit, causing you to squirm under him.

“Be a good girl and stay still,” he ordered. 

His newfound dominance turned you on. He was no longer the baby boy that followed your every move, although you were sure that side of him was still there somewhere. You got lost in pleasure and didn’t realize how far gone you were till you felt liquid dripping down your inner thighs.

“You’re so fucking wet baby. All this for me?” Jungkook panted as he continued snapping his hips into you.

“Mhm, of course. Only for you,” you managed to moan out between thrusts.

“That’s my good girl. Get up,” he demanded as he hopped off the bed. 

You obeyed, curious as to what he was going to do. As soon as you got off the bed, he spun you around and pushed your chest back over the covers. He slipped back into you with ease, groaning as your slick juices coated his cock. This new position enabled Jungkook to directly hit your g-spot with each thrust. Again, his hand wrapped around your waist to find your clit. His other hand found purchase on your neck, slightly choking you. The overstimulation had you crying out in bliss that you had never experienced before.  

You were practically gushing now as your wetness ran down your legs and sprayed onto Jungkook’s thighs with each strong impact.  Jungkook lifted up one of your legs onto the bed, spreading your pussy.

“Now touch yourself for me,” Jungkook directed.

He didn’t have to tell you twice. Your legs started to shake as you played with your clit at the perfect pace while Jungkook drilled into you. You were sure that you had already came numerous times by this point, but you could feel the grand finale soon approaching.   

“Jungkook I--” you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence as you climaxed onto his dick. He was infatuated with the way you looked from behind, and he couldn’t get enough of it. He pushed you back onto the bed with your legs still hanging from the edge. He reinserted himself while you laid there, completely delusional from the pounding you had been receiving. 

“You’re such a sexy woman,” he moaned as he anchored the weight of his arms onto your shoulders. 

He continued his torment downwards. Your bountiful cheeks bounced back and forth while he repeatedly rammed into your g-spot causing you to release more of the juices his massive cock craved. 

 He slowed his pace but still kept going to help you ride out your high for as long as possible. The sensation of you cumming on him was enough to bring him right to the brink of no return.

“Can I cum on you?” he pleaded in a tone all too familiar to you.

“Please do,” you nodded.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he said as he gave you a couple more hard thrusts before pulling out and coating your ass with white strings. 

Jungkook held you in his arms after wiping you down with a towel, both of your chests heaving in sync. You both managed to work up a sweat, but Jungkook still smelled amazing. He played with your hair as your eyelids started to get heavy. 

“_____,” he whispered softly.

“Yes, Jungkook?” you replied with your eyes still closed. 

“Come with me.”

“What?” your eyes shot open. 

“Come with me to Spain. I know it sounds crazy, but I don’t care. You’ll finally get the adventure you’ve always wanted, and we’ll do it together,” he kissed your forehead. 

His unexpected proposition had you overwhelmed. You were speechless. You would go with him in a heartbeat. It wouldn’t matter where you’d go, as long as you were with him. 

“Jungkook...you know I can’t do that,” you fought back tears, nuzzling yourself further into his chest. 

“I wanted to ask your parents as soon as I arrived but you rushed me out too quickly and--”

“I can’t leave them, you know that,” silent tears rolled down your cheeks. 

“I think they’d understand. Plus, you’ve said that they’ve tried to convince you to go to college,” Jungkook was getting desperate, he thought you’d agree on the spot.

“They need my help now more than ever. My parents are getting old. As much as I want to leave this place, I can’t. I’m going to be stuck here forever. I’m so sorry, Jungkook,” you wept.

“It’s okay, ___. We can ask them tomorrow, how does that sound?” he rubbed your back. 

“No, I can’t do that to them. You know they’ll say yes. I have to stay,” you sniffled.

“You’re a great daughter. I can’t force you to come with me. I’ll miss you. I don’t know how long I’ll be gone,” Jungkook’s voice started to falter.

“Don’t worry about me. Go live out your life. Eat great food. Take beautiful pictures. Meet pretty girls,” you tried to lighten the mood.

“You think I want to meet pretty girls? Why would I do that when I have you,” he hugged you tightly.

“We aren’t even dating, Jungkook. I don’t want to hinder you more than I already have,” you blurted. 

“I...I know we aren’t dating. Not officially. But that’s just a stupid label. I want to be with you,” Jungkook’s voice softened to hide his pain. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” you said as you got up.

Jungkook immediately pulled you back into him. Your nose brushed against his wet cheek, causing you to freeze up when you realized that he had also been crying.

“Please stay with me. At least just for tonight,” he pleaded.

“Alright. I can do that,” you softly kiss him. 

You woke up the next morning with your head on Jungkook’s chest. Jungkook looked adorable while he was asleep, with his mouth agape and his hair falling messily over his forehead. You tried to inch away, but he just pulled you closer, making it impossible to escape. 

He woke up with a yawn a couple minutes later. He smiled down at you before ruffling your hair.

“Jungkook, I’m sorry about last night. I--”

“Let’s not talk about it. This is my last day with you for god knows how long. Let’s just enjoy ourselves, okay?” he interrupted you.

It had been three years since that spring when you met Jungkook. You sometimes reminisce about the times you had with Jeon Jungkook. It honestly felt like a dream. Communication with him slowly faded away, and now the only conversations you had with him were one message long during birthdays and holidays. You kept up with him more through Instagram. He regularly uploaded his beautiful pictures, and you could tell that his talent only grew. He had a knack for making dull buildings and streets come to life. 

Your parents planned to retire soon, leaving you to tend to the bakery by yourself. They mainly managed the front-of-house work during the busy hours now. Their goal was to finally sell the bakery, but you protested against it. As much as you wanted to be rid of the chains that tied you down, you were scared. You didn’t know what you would do if the bakery was suddenly gone. It was all you’ve ever known. 

Ever since your parents announced their retirement plans, you started to dabble in pastry making. They were impressed with your skills, and your creations got added to the menu. Word spread that the already famous bakery was now carrying delicious pastries, and business soared. 

You were busy decorating your latest desserts when your mother came into the kitchen.

“Your father and I have to go run a quick errand, we’ll be back soon!” she said before giving you time to protest. You grumbled to yourself as you placed strawberries on your cakes, praying that no one would come in.

“Hello? Anyone here? The sign says open,” someone called from the front.

‘God dammit’, you thought before putting on a fake customer service smile. 

“Welcome to--” you stopped in your tracks.

Jungkook was standing in the middle of your bakery, looking even more handsome than you had remembered him. His face lit up as soon as he saw you. You couldn’t help yourself as you ran towards him, colliding into him with a forceful hug.

“I hear you sell desserts now,” he grinned.

“Jungkook! What are you doing here? Your hair, it’s so long! And...do you have tattoos now?!” you were in shock. 

“Do I look more artsy now?” he laughed, “I came to see you. I wanted to try your desserts too, of course. No one would believe me when I said nothing can compare to your family’s bakery. Oh, I have a present for you.”

You became giddy with excitement as Jungkook brought out a brown paper bag and handed it to you. You pulled out prints of a beautiful girl standing in a forest. Wait...it looked familiar…

“Is this me?” you asked as your mouth hung open.

“Yeah, these are the pictures from when you took me on that picnic. Would you believe me if I said I barely had to touch anything up? They were already nearly perfect,” Jungkook said proudly.

“It’s because you’re a talented photographer,” you smiled.  

“That, and because I had the perfect model. How could I not ask the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen to model for me?” he said as he tucked your hair behind your ear.

“So I wasn’t just practice?” you recalled asking him about it all those years ago.

“I was so nervous back then, I couldn’t bring myself to tell you the truth,” he laughed, “I’m much more open now.”

You promptly switched the ‘OPEN’ sign to ‘CLOSED’ and sat Jungkook down. You brought out one of your fresh strawberry cakes, eager to hear his opinion. His face contorted with pleasure as he took the first bite. He complimented the flavors and textures, saying that everything tasted like perfect harmony. You laughed together as he shared stories of his time abroad. He intently listened while you opened up about the struggles of the bakery. 

“Anyway, that’s enough complaining for now. I’m happy you’re back! How long are you staying for this time?” you tilted your head. 

“Depends,” Jungkook answered as he gazed out the window. He looked back at you with a serious expression. He quickly grabbed your hand and pulled you close, bringing your face just inches away from his.

“Do you still want to explore the world?” he asked.

“Of course, that’ll never change. But...you know I can’t,” you answered somberly. 

“After everything you just told me, you still think you have to stay here?” Jungkook raised an eyebrow, “My next gig is going to be in France. Come with me this time, _____.”

You stared at him with a stunned expression. You thought he had forgotten about you. Now here he is, asking you to run away with him again.

“Why did you lose touch? I thought you had moved on. I made peace with that. God, it hurt like hell, but I came to terms with it. And now we’re doing this again,” your voice cracked as tears welled in your eyes.

“Honestly, it hurt me too much. I couldn’t bear talking to you every day or video chatting you, without knowing when I’d see you next. I never stopped thinking about you. I tried. I tried to forget...but no one could ever come close to you,” Jungkook cupped your cheek in his palm, “There’s a really good patissiere academy close to where I’ll be working. You could go there and sharpen your skills! Then maybe one day open up a bakery of your own...if you wanted.”

“But what about my parents--”

“Stop using us as an excuse to hold yourself back,” your mom scolded you as she entered the bakery.

“Did you like your surprise?” your dad winked.

“You knew?” you were bewildered.

“Jungkook contacted us a while back, asking if we thought his plan could ever be a possibility. I figured you were still head over heels for him since you never dated anyone else,” your mom shrugged.

“If you want to go, go. Don’t worry about us. We can sell the bakery, and finally retire,” your dad said. 

“You have your parents’ blessing, ____. This decision is entirely up to you. What’s it gonna be? Will you come with me to France?” Jungkook asked again.

“I..,” you looked at your parents before your eyes wandered back to Jungkook, “Yes. I’d love to,” tears of joy rolled down your cheeks.

Jungkook got up and embraced you in a tight hug before he whispered, “I’ve missed you so much,” in your ear. 

“Well, we better start packing,” Jungkook turned to your parents.

“Packing? Already?” your eyes widened. 

“We leave by the end of the week!” Jungkook gleefully took your hand and dashed out of the store. 

Jungkook dragged you through the town up to your house. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched his long hair bounce around while you ran. You could’ve sworn that sometimes they looked like bunny ears.

He was definitely Jungkook, but he seemed like the upgraded version of the shy boy you once knew. He had a new confident aura around him, and he seemed more manly than boyish now. Everything was happening so quickly, but you were nothing but excited for the adventures to come. 

As long as Jungkook was by your side, you were ready to take on the world. 

Published March 26, 2021. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2021 Baepsaesbae.

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[comfortwriting]

A Triwizard Baby Part 1 - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompt Masterlist,Taglist

Part 1 Fred Weasley x Fem Reader mini series

Requested/About: Best friends, Y/N and Fred Weasley share a night of passion together during the Triwizard Tournament, after that, everything changes and Fred can’t figure out why until the night of the final task. Y/N has the world on her shoulders, and Fred slowly finds himself losing everyone around him. 

Want to be tagged? Let me know!

A/N: the ages/school year has been adjusted so everything is legal.

Warnings: Swearing, alcohol, intoxication, drunk and unprotected sex, losing virginity.

It all started when the more outspoken, confident twin crashed into you on the Hogwarts Express in your first year at Hogwarts. Sure, you were upset, embarrassed, and annoyed, but when you looked up and realised who had swept you off your feet, you knew it wasn’t your brain messing with you - from that moment you had fallen for him; Fred Weasley.

After your first train ride, classes, and many more along the way, over the years, you and Fred became best friends, going through thick and thin together, sharing the worlds loudest laughs, best pranks, and even the biggest tears. Your tiny crush on him blossomed into something much more, a love that couldn’t stop growing and spread out of control, but you were sure that Fred didn’t feel the same, and as you became older, reaching the end of your years in the education system, Fred discovered other girls and sex, whilst you drowned yourself in the life of parties and bottles of fire whiskey.

Fred loves the parties, he loves fire whiskey too, but he loves the other girls and the sex in a different way because they feed his ego, and it helped take his mind off you and the fact he didn’t have the guts to pursue you.

You were labelled as the party-girl which every girl wanted to be and wouldn’t challenge to a drinking game if their gold was on the table, and Fred gained the title as the play-boy, who made every lad jealous and watch in envy as he never got rejected and could flirt with any girl he wanted.

You had to hear the stories of your best friend fucking your classmates, and how much they loved it, praising him and gossiping about how skilled he was with his fingers, tongue, and cock. You were jealous, and you didn’t want to admit it, but you couldn't invent your sex life to reach Fred’s rank - you had never had sex - you were a virgin through and through.

Sitting next to Fred on the edge of his bed in the hospital wing you shook your head, laughing at the state of him and his twin, George.

“I’ve got to say, you’ve got a magnificent beard.” You laughed, the sight of George being an old man funnier than you expected.

Fred smirked despite still being pissed off with George “I never knew you were into older men” he winked.

“Well, you never asked.”

George groaned out “get a bloody room, the pair of you!”

You rolled your eyes at him and pulled Fred’s pillow from under his head, causing him to slump down, you bashed George with his pillow, sticking your tongue out at him and pulling a face.

“Y/N, don’t encourage them!” Madame Pomfrey hurried over, retrieving Fred’s pillow “Out! Out!” she shooed you.

Standing up and put your hands up in defence “Alright! I’m going!”

Fred’s smirk turned into a grin, “Watch the first task with us?” he asked.

You nodded “with pleasure, I heard Bill is going to be there.”

And you weren’t wrong, the first task came within the blink of an eye, you were honoured to meet Bill in passing - more like a “Hello!” with an awkward wave, followed by “Goodbye!” and another awkward wave, but the dragons fascinated you, and Fred spent the majority of the task watching you instead of the Hungarian Horntail, Swedish Short-Snout, Chinese Fireball, and the Common Welsh Green. George had to keep reminding Fred that their money and future business was on the line.

During the celebration party as it got later in the evening, you and everyone else surrounded Harry, clapping and cheering as he lifted the golden egg infant of him, parading it around, all of you watching and waiting eagerly, encouraging him to open it in hopes that it could liven up the party - giving everyone an excuse to stay up late and continue drinking.

Fred and George lifted Harry up, propping his legs on either of their shoulders, their arms strapping him in so he was above the large and busy crowd.

“Knew you wouldn’t die, Harry.”

“Lose a leg.”

“Or an arm.”

“Pack it in altogether.”

“Never!”

Fred and George stopped heaving Harry into the air, Seamus begging for a clue, you stared at Fred, your eyes getting lost in the strands of his long golden hair, but you weren’t the only one - the girls behind you were fixating on him, whispering about his good looks and height.

You zoned out completely, the same jealousy and bitterness spreading through your veins, you had to talk to him, tell him you loved him, but how?

Harry opened the egg, bright light of gold broke out followed by loud screeching, breaking you out of your toxic train of thoughts, Fred and George dropping Harry and flinching like you and everyone else, covering your ears and begging Harry to shut it up.

“What the bloody hell was that?” Ron interrupted.

Fred huffed and shook his head “As if this party couldn’t get any worse.” he turned around and tried to flee to his dorm room, calling it a night and encouraging everyone to get to bed.

The two girls behind you who were salivating over Fred pushed past you and called him over, blushing and batting their eyelashes at him.

“We’re throwing a party of our own” she eyed him up as if he was something to eat “tonight doesn’t have to end on a downer.”

Her plan worked, instantly gaining Fred’s attention, he grinned and nodded “Wicked, can I bring someone along?”

“George is already invited” her friend replied, smirking at George.

“Can I bring someone else too, though?” Fred asked.

The girls exchanged looks with one another cautiously, but they didn’t want to let him down or uninterested him, “Of course! Who?”

Probably his friend Lee or some girl he’s fucking.

“Y/N!” Fred called out, smiling at you “You want to join this party with me?”

The girls glared at one another, muttering and swearing under their breaths to one another.

This is your moment, Y/N, don’t mess this up, shoot your shot.

“Yeah!” You smiled back, feeling honoured and slightly shocked “Yeah, sure!”

Once everyone had cleared off, you and your new group sneaked out of the common room and into Moaning Myrtle's territory, all the professors were either partying or fast asleep, even Mr Filch and Mrs Norris grudgingly had the night off.

The dark and grubby bathroom spun around whilst you got onto your knees, the cold tile floor making you shudder when coming into contact with your warm legs. The two girls smirked and sat down too, the shorter one pulling Fred to sit down next to her, her hand continuously placing itself on his knee, ticking you off.

“Well, since Y/N decided to drink her feelings, we’ve got an empty bottle and we could do with a game to lighten up the mood.” The shorter girl spoke out, causing Fred to give her a dirty look for calling you out.

“What is it then?” George asked “Pretty shit place for a party.”

“Careful” you hiccoughed “Don’t want to make Mrytle cry.”

“We’ve decided truth or dare, but with spinning the bottle. Whoever it lands on has to answer a truth, or accept a dare from the spinner.”

You rolled your eyes “Seems very... tween like of you.”

Fred laughed.

“You weren’t invited, so feel free to leave if this party isn’t good enough for you.”

You ignored her and played along anyway.

“George” she squealed “Truth or dare?”

George hesitated for a moment “Truth”

“Does Fred keep you up at night with all the girls he brings back?”

After what felt like an eternity, the bottle finally landed back and George, and he spun the bottle, causing it to land on you.

“Y/N, truth or dare?”

I swear if you ask me anything stupid -

“D-dare.” you hiccoughed again, trying to act bigger than your boots.

George stared at the two desperate girls and looked back at you “I dare you to snog my brother.”

Okay, I really wish I went for truth, what was I thinking? Bloody hell!

“Okay then” you replied nervously, crawling in the middle of the circle, Fred crawling over to you, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Fred’s warm, large, gentle hands cupped your face, leaning in, his lips pressed against yours shocking both of you as if a spark had ignited, whilst you kissed back, your hands tangled in his long golden hair and the two of you were suddenly hit with the realisation of how in love with one another you actually were.

More students had caught wind of the lame party and livened it up, playing music and brightening the bathroom up with colourful moving lights, bringing more fire whiskey and encouraging everyone to dance.

Everyone around you watched as you and Fred continued to snog, his tongue dancing with yours, his cock starting to support a semi, everyone cheered aside from the two girls who felt as if they had shot themselves in the foot.

“Okay!” the girl called out again, trying to pull Fred away “Times up!”

but he didn’t want to stop, and neither did you, the memories you shared playing out in front of you.

“I’m sorry for crashing into you” he frowned, sitting next to you on the train “is your head alright? I can try and make the bruising go away.”

You couldn’t stay mad at him, you chuckled and shook your head “It’s okay but thank you for offering” you smiled.

His twin brother entered the carriage, “Fred-” he stared at you “what’s happened to you?”

“I wish you were coming with us” Fred sighed, grumbling to himself.

“Oh don’t be silly, you’re going on holiday!” you beamed “just make sure you take plenty of pictures, I’ve heard Egypt is lovely!”

“I’ll write to you and I’ll send the photos through the owl post if I’ve got enough time.”

“We’re supposed to be studying for our O.W.Ls!” you hissed at Fred, hiding your answers from him as he continued to make your stationary levitate and drop onto your head.

“Please take part in this prank, Y/N” he begged “I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again.”

“But you always do, Freddie!”

He stared at you, pouting and making puppy eyes.

“Fine” you sighed, giving in “Let’s go and do it then.”

Fred punched the air and grabbed you by the hand, pulling you away from your desk, the two of you smirking and giggling with excitement.

“I didn’t realise it would be this cold” you shivered, standing outside of Honey Dukes, snow falling from the sky and sticking to the pavement.

Fred pulled off his knitted jumper “Put this on love, don’t want you freezing now do we?”

The memories snapped away as Fred fell back, his arm in the girl's hand, you were desperate for more and opened your eyes, frowning that he had been dragged away for a dance with her, you watched as she wrapped her arms around his neck and his hands rested on her waist.

Getting off your now red cold knees and standing up, you downed some more fire whiskey from the first bottle you laid eyes on and decided to copy Fred - dancing with anyone who wanted you - grinding against them, having them hold you close and breathing down your neck, you had to admit, for someone who had never done this before, you were doing a pretty good job, almost as if you had done it before.

Fred couldn’t get you, the kiss, the feeling of your lips, tongue, and the replay of memories out of his head. Breaking away from the girl, he approached you as you pulled away from the tall Hufflepuff lad, finally reuniting with the love of your life. Almost instantly, Fred’s lips collided with yours, your hands back to being tangled in his hair and his hand squeezing your behind teasingly, alcohol on your breath and his.

“I want you.” you breathed, pulling away from the kiss “I want you to fuck me like you do everyone else.”

“I want you too” Fred replied, taking your hand and fleeing from the party.

After what seemed like a marathon, you finally burst into Fred’s empty dorm room, he shut the door behind him and locked it before kissing you passionately, lowering you onto the bed and taking your clothes off.

This was it, the moment you were craving for years on end, this was it, this was how you would be losing your virginity, this would be giving yourself to your best friend entirely.

But Fred had no idea that it was your first time, in his head, you were having just as much sex as him.

Fred couldn’t get over the sight of your naked body, your breasts, your tummy, your bum, your inner thighs, your exquisite crotch - you were the definition of perfect, he had forgotten about every girl he had ever seen naked at the sight of you, you were making him feel as if this was his first time all over again.

Fred sucked on your nipples whilst he stimulated your clit with his fingers, warming you up, the sensation of his warm tongue and mouth sent shivers of pleasure down your spine, and as nervous as you were, you couldn’t stop yourself from moaning as he played with your touch starved clit.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Fred asked, pulling away from your breasts.

“Yes,” you breathed out, slurring slightly “I’m ready Freddie.”

Fred’s head, like yours, was also spinning. He stumbled and reached for the lube, applying it onto his length and then across your tight hole. Fred felt as if he had forgotten something, but the more he wracked his own brain, the more he couldn’t remember what he needed. He laid you on your back and climbed on top, lining himself against your entrance.

Looking at you one last time to make sure, you nodded, and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching you out as your walls tightened around you. You winced as you experienced an entirely new feeling, Fred slowed down and stayed still inside of you so you could adjust to his size when you were ready to continue, Fred started to trust himself inside and out of you gently, holding your hand and kissing your head as you started to feel incredible pleasure, your soft moans spilling from your lips.

Fred couldn’t believe he had gotten so lucky, he was fucking - no - he wasn’t - he was making love to the most perfect girl in the world, someone he actually cared deeply for and had feelings for, you weren't a stranger, you were special, you weren’t temporary, you were soothing his aching heart - your absence was the cause, and your love - the medicine.

You watched as Fred’s hard cock slid inside and out of you, you admired his perfect body, the way he moaned and expressed the pleasure he was feeling through his facial expressions, you gripped onto his hand tighter as he picked up his speed and throbbed inside of you, you didn’t want this to end, you wanted to live inside this moment forever.

“My- My tummy feels tight” you panted, not knowing what was happening.

“Cum for me, Y/N.” Fred panted too “Don’t hold back.”

Oh, so that’s what that feeling means?

The pressure built up until it burst, you felt yourself explode as the pleasure became more intense, you relaxed and released, creaming down Fred’s length, your walls strangling him.

“Fuck!” Fred panted, the beads of sweat spreading across his forehead and back “I’m cumming baby!”

Baby.

“Y/N!”

Fred released his sperm deep inside of you without realising he didn’t have a condom on, you didn’t know whether he had put one on or not either, you didn’t know to ask or mention it, you were on birth control up until last week, you had to come off it due to the side effects and stress you under as your N.E.W.Ts approached.

Fred slowly pulled out and collapsed in your arms, the two of you holding one another, your eyes too heavy to stay open.

As you drifted off to sleep, your life was about to change forever.

Taglist: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @alwaysnforeverfangirl @inglourious-imagines @horrorxweasley @sebby-staan @onlyfreds @pandaxnienke @xmalfoyweasleyx

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic #ron weasley #bill weasley #bill weasley x reader

[bitch-biblioklept]

The Darkling x f!oc

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 <you are here> Part 7

Chapter-6: Amplifiers

Chapter Summary: Frustrated with Alina's lack of improvement, the Darkling finally found a way to use her powers for his thirst for revenge.

Word Count: 2.1k

(My gif)

The Darkling knew what he had to do, and went to the bitter old woman his mother had become to inform her of such. He still cared about her opinion, no matter how old he’d grown… even if it had bothered him a lot. She wouldn’t react, most likely.

“I have decided to give Alina an amplifier,” He declared once inside the heat of her hut by the lake. “Hopefully we will find the stag.”

Her head snapped in his direction at the mention of the stag. Her dark eyes looked livid. “Of course,” she muttered, half to herself. “I was a fool for thinking for a second that you’d let her have it.”

“The girl is naïve, she can’t control her powers.” He explained. “She will do better with that.”

“I’m not going to let you take control of her powers.” She said with the certainty of a decision. “I know what you are planning to do.”

“How would you?” The Darkling asked, his lips set in a sneer.

“I gave birth to you, boy.” Baghra said. “I know you better than you think I do. She wouldn’t have wanted this.”

“But she isn’t here to stop me now, is she?” Aleksander said. The lump in his throat was suddenly too much. The lakeshore was a bloodbath again. Baghra was silent for too long. “Well?”

“She isn’t,” His mother agreed slowly. “But the least you could do is honor her memory, her mannerisms.”

“She wasn’t a saint mother,” He reminded. “By all means she was the viler and crueler one of the two of us.”

“Not to someone who hadn’t wronged her,” Baghra added.

“I shall avenge her, whether you like it or not, mother.” The Darkling said. He still had a vague memory of the last time he had addressed her as such. Aleksander had been too distraught, everything had happened just so fast… there was no time to tell if it had been reality or a nightmare. Serephina had been assassinated, found lying with her throat slashed, there were others too, her attackers, only one of them was barely breathing by the time he had gotten there.

That was the first time he had used the Cut in the Little Palace grounds, the first time all the young Grisha realized why everyone was so afraid of him. It was the first time his mother looked terrified.

They were supposed to be happy, it was supposed to be a celebrations filled night. But like Serephina used to say in her Suli sayings, some had jinxed their joy. They were to be a family, they were to become parents.

But all of that had been taken away because he was the Darkling and she was Lady Kirigan, and not Aleksander and Serephina.

A light knock at the door brought him out of his thoughts.

Alina appeared in the doorway a second later, looking awkward on finding she interrupted their conversation. “Sorry,” she said.

“In girl, don’t let the heat out.” Baghra declared instead.

The Darkling bowed as a show of courtesy. “How are you Alina?” he asked to be polite.

“I’m fine,” Her voice sounded forced.

“She’s fine!” hooted Baghra. “She’s fine! She cannot light a hallway, but she’s fine.”

The Darkling had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at her words. “Leave her be,” he said instead.

The old woman narrowed her dark eyes at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” she decided.

He ran his fingers through his hair in an attempt to alleviate his frustrations. This was not going well. He turned to Alina. “Baghra has her own way of doing things.” He explained to stop himself from snapping at his mother at the moment.

“Don’t patronize me, boy!” she screamed at him. For a second, he was eighteen again, afraid of his mother’s wrath upon finding about his and Serephina’s marriage, and stood up straighter.

He stopped himself in time, remembering he wasn’t the same boy he had been then, not anymore. “Don’t chide me, old woman,” he said in a low, dangerous voice.

There was an intense stare down between the two of them, the tension so thick it could have been sensed even by a donkey. That was until Baghra turned to Alina and said, “The boy thinks to get you an amplifier. What do you think of that, girl?”

He watched as Alina’s face brightened with a smile as if she had heard the most brilliant idea. And for a second, a brief moment, she reminded him of Serephina again, with the curve of her smile and the way her eyes crinkled with joy.

“I think it’s brilliant!” She nearly squealed. And the similarity was gone. Alina was not Serephina, and the differences got more evident as he got to know her better. Serephina’s face had always had a cold mask, much like himself, but he knew how to read her, where to look for in those brown eyes to find the answers. She was a book meant to be read just by him, and him only. Alina’s face was an open book left for everyone to read.

Baghra let out a disgusted sound, and the sound inspired an odd sense of pride in him. Alina was right where he needed her to be.

“Alina, have you ever heard of Morozova’s herd?” he asked.

“Of course she has. She’s also heard of unicorns and the Shu Han dragons,” Baghra said mockingly. If this woman wasn’t his mother, he would have kicked her out by now, but alas.

The Darkling took Alina out of the hut instead, wanting to have one conversation where Baghra didn’t interrupt him at every utterance that came out of his mouth. Though he was aware that she was keeping an eye on everything he was going to do.

“That woman,” he muttered to himself, running his hands all over his face. Then he ran his hands through his hair again, but this time to get the embarrassing image of him hiding behind Serephina to be safe of the rage Juris had upon finding out about the wedding.

“What?” he asked; half-embarrassed by the humor on Alina’s face.

“I’ve just never seen you so … ruffled.” She said.

“Baghra has that effect on people.”

“Was she your teacher, too?”

She was. Of course she was, she was his mother. But she wasn’t just a mother or teacher, she had been through a lot with him, suffered as bad as he had. Perhaps she was the only person alive who would bother to understand Aleksander and not the Darkling. “Yes,” he said in its place. “So what do you know about Morozova’s herd?”

Again she talked about how she had heard children’s stories. Again he told her what he wanted her to, making a passing remark about forgetting how new she was to all this. He was keenly aware of the raven-like gaze Baghra kept on both of them, but he ignored it. Again he was nice to Alina, listening to her talk by the lakeshore when the image of the bloodbath resurfaced. He turned his thoughts to less painful things like how things would have been different had Serephina been here.

After a while, he had had enough and he left. He was desperate for a glass of kvas, or even better, a glass of strong whiskey. The memories wouldn’t just stop invading his head.

So he focused on the night he thought Serephina was going to die.

It was a cold night after a snowstorm, a village in central Ravka that had once been free of the abomination of creation that most people called the Shadow Fold or the Unsea. They had stopped by the village while they were on their way to Fjerda.

 There was a pack of large wolves tormenting the villagers, and they had warned them against going out at night. But Serephina had wanted to see them, the wolves. She said something was calling out to her, and that she needed to see the wolves.

And refusing to let her go out in the danger all alone, Aleksander had accompanied her. He was scared, of course. He had always been afraid of the dark but he never showed it, but she knew. He knew that she knew. That was why she had been holding his hand, warming the both of them up to keep them through the night.

It was a little past midnight when Sere had lost hopes of seeing the wolves and they were about to head back, when a deep growl sounded somewhere to their left.

A pair of bright red glowing eyes were fixated on them dangerously. She let go of his hand and shoved him behind herself and then reckoned the alpha wolf closer. Aleksander’s male ego would have been hurt if he weren’t so scared.

The wolf was one of the biggest animals he had ever seen, standing taller and either of them. For a moment he was certain the wolf was one of the Grisha of the old stories, the shape-shifters who couldn’t turn back into their human form after being in their animal form for too long during the first Ravkan war.

Before Aleksander could think of an escape route, Serephina had moved forward, studying the animal. Its dark black fur was blacker than anything he had ever seen, but it gleamed against the white snow under the moonlit canopy. The wolf and the girl regarded each other, assessing the danger.

The wolf leaped in the air with its jaw spread open to attack Serephina faster than he could say, “Stop!” She didn’t leave her ground and raised her hands, shoving them forward with all the force. The wolf fell to the ground as if hit by an invisible wall.

And when her flint sparked up from her sleeve, the cold blue flames scared the large animal. But it got up, shook the snow off its fur and got back into the battle.

Ice, air, fire all of the three elements helped Serephina in her conquest. She even used a bit of the heart rendering powers that she had mastered and paralyzed the wolf, after some of their blood had splattered on the snow, frozen like red pearls.

She walked to the laying wolf, limp in her step from where the wolf had bitten her leg, her hidden knife in hand and stabbed the wolf right where it heart would be. And strangely, the wolf looked proud when she did it, and then raised its paw and scratched it through her chest, right where her heart would be.

Aleksander’s soul left his body in that instant.

The soft glow of moonlight that came from Serephina showed her face, bloodied and contorted in pain, as both their blood flowed freely to the ground, freezing instantly on the snow. The wolf was the first one to close its eyes, the glowing red disappearing.

She fell on the snow next, her breath escaping with a sigh.

He rushed to her side, almost blinded by the brightness of the light she radiated, and cradled her head in his arms, regretting not staying back at their little cave, not being able to convince her to stay, not being able to protect her because of his own fears.

Then her eyes opened, and her thin lips moved, muttering his name. Her eyes glowed bright red, like the wolf’s but the voice was hers, for no one else could ever speak in that musical voice that made him want to drop everything and just listen to her talk all day.

“Sere…” he softly said, tucking her black hair behind her ear.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, and then stood up. Her hair was a mess, her eyes looked tired, but they were back to their brown, and her clothes were ragged, covered in her own blood and the wolf’s, but to him she had never looked more beautiful.

“But the wolf-” he started.

“The wolf is one with me now,” She calmly explained. Her eyes changed to the bright red once again. “I am the wolf and the wolf is me.”

“Like the amplifiers,” he realized.

She smiled. “Let’s go. I’m starving.”

“I hope you don’t eat Grisha for meals now,” He joked.

“I might eat someone if he gets too annoying,” she winked at him and walked away. Aleksander was frozen in his place.

The wolf was old, she knew everything. Serephina had always had an answer to his problems. Things would have been so much better had her and their child were with him right now. He would have been so much happier and maybe they would have been done with the fold by now.

But fate always had other ideas.

#shadow and bone #the darkling #aleksander morozova #general kirigan #ben barnes #general kirigan imagine #shadow and bone imagine #the darkling imagine #the darkling x f!oc #the darkling x reader #general kirigan x oc

[tatooedlaura-blog]

Max 2.0

post-Max. Because the car is the best place to deal with crises of being and pseudo-bad grammar ...

Our Moment Chapter 1: Five Words (post-Leonard Betts) Chapter 2: Sidebar Nonsense (post-Memento Mori) Chapter 3: Interim (floating somewhere around Unrequited) Chapter 4: Max 2.0 (post-Tempus Fugit/Max)

@today-in-fic

&&&&&&&&&&

Out of her bed and halfway down the hall before she opened her eyes, she stopped by the couch, realizing she had no idea why she was out of bed. Vague notions of her gun crossed her mind but then she heard a knock. Wavering for another moment or two in full-on sleep mode, she shook her head lightly, tried to pry her eyes open, then regretted it, eyelids stuck together, burning, dry; another knock.

She wondering in passing how long he’d been out there but finally summoning the brain power to move her legs again, she made it to the door. Peering out at him through the peephole, she yawned, then unlocked the door, pulling it open, squinting at the glaring hall light, “you okay?”

Now, he’d known she would probably be asleep, had to be asleep given it was nearly 1am, but that didn’t stop him from being surprised by her pillow-creased face and unfocused eyes, “yeah, um, I’m now realizing this was stupid. You’re asleep. I should be asleep. I’m sorry.” Not turning away, however, hoping if he stood there long enough, she’d invite him in, “I’m sorry.”

Scully knew him like no other and stepping aside, “come on in.”

He did, leaving shoes and coat on, standing, filling, overwhelming the area he stood in, doorframe small behind him, “thanks.” Folding arms, not in that annoyed way of hers but in the ‘I’m trying to hold in a yawn so I will stupidly think that crossing them will keep it from rising to the surface’. It did not work and Mulder sighed, apologizing again, “I’m sorry.”

“Are you okay?”

“I just … I can’t stop thinking about Max and the plane and just … he was me, Scully, and that’s bothering me more than I thought it would.”

“Would you like some tea?”

Reaching out, he touched her hand, the one not tucked under her elbow, proceeding to play with her knuckles, the hem of her sleeve, twisting the thermal fabric between his fingers, “I was actually wondering if maybe you’d like to go for a drive with me?”

It had been over a month since their Tennessee drive but the memories were clear and nodding, she gave him a small smile before extracting herself from his fingers, “just let me go grab a coat.” Disappearing, then reappearing quickly, she had one of his zipped sweatshirts over her shoulders, thick socks firmly in place and feet shoved in soled slippers, “ready.”

“Do you steal all my clothes?”

“Only the good ones.”

Soon in the car, they were off, quiet between them broken a minute later, “your car’s clean.”

“It happens.”

“Not often.”

Shrugging, he turned right, then left, the left again, the city night passing by them in an unnoticed blur. He seemed to have a destination in mind and asking if he did, Mulder told her, “no. I just want to get out of the city and I know this is the fastest way.”

“Understood.”

Because it was late and dark and she was tired and loose-limbed, she folded her legs under, folded hands in her lap.

She baited the hook to see if he’d bite.

He did, his hand sliding across the center irritation of a console, fingers wedging once again in the fold between bended knee and adjacent thigh. He knew she’d done it on purpose.

Neither cared.

The connection made them both feel better and Mulder, squeezing her leg lightly, “sorry I don’t have a moonroof for you.”

“It’s cloudy anyways and there’s no moon, so I’ll forgive you this time.”

“Thanks.”

She gave it awhile, the pair of them well out of the city lights, darkness prevailing before, “you’re not like Max. I mean, you are, but not in the ways you’re dwelling on.”

“But I am like him.”

“We’re all Max in our own ways. I mean, we have passions and hopes and problems and dreams but some of us fixate on them to the point where it’s their only hope, their only passion and it becomes their biggest problem.”

He moved to pull his hand away but she grabbed it, holding tight, as he spoke, “I am the poster boy now that he’s gone, Scully. I am Max 2.0.”

Twisting, she refolded her legs so they both vee’d in his direction, able to look at him better that way, turn to see him easier. Putting his hand back between her knees, she moved to hold his lower arm, firmly, trying to get her point across with words as well as tactile pressure, “if you were anything like Max, obsession-wise, I’d be long gone. You have passion, Mulder, he had fixation. There’s a vast difference.”

“Not that vast.”

“There is in my mind. Max wouldn’t be here right now, taking a midnight drive with his … partner,” that was an odd hesitation she wasn’t expecting, “he’d be in his trailer, trying to decode the conspiracies of the universe.”

“The Gunmen are probably doing that as we speak.”

“But Langley also cooks a mean prime rib, Byers plays Majhong on Friday nights with a group of semi-normal people, Frohike crochets blankets for the Veterans Hospital and has a 22-year old penpal in Denmark. These people have other interests. From what we saw and heard about Max, while he was a very nice man, he didn’t do any of that.”

“You know about the crocheting?”

“Have you seen the granny-square afghan on my couch? The one you like to snuggle with when you’re tired and don’t want to drive home? That’s Frohike’s handiwork from last Christmas.”

Suddenly, the world didn’t seem quite so down on him after all but he still felt something he couldn’t shake. Ignoring that, however, for the moment, he scoffed, “he’s never made me a blanket, that yarn-wielding bastard.”

“I’ll drop a hint next time I see him.” Feeling the tension leaving him slowly, Scully began moving her left hand up his arm, around the back, to lightly rub the underside of his bicep, other hand splayed around his wrist. It was an unconscious thing at first, then, noticing it, she decided she liked it and stayed. “Do you think there’s any hot chocolate out here in the sticks?”

Looking at the houses still visible from the road they were on, more spaced apart than a few minutes ago but still numerous, “you’ve been living in the city too long if you think this is the sticks.”

“You call it the city; I call it a severe lack of 24-hour dining possibilities with hot chocolate necessities.”

“You’re wordy today. Did you snack on a dictionary before going to bed?”

“Is that your polite way of telling me to quit mouthing off?”

And now her mouth was foremost on his mind.

Dammit.

“I have M&Ms in the glove compartment. Is that a good enough compromise?”

Retrieving the candy post-haste, she popped one in her mouth, then offered him one, “sugar?”

“Sure. Why not?”

Both chewing, Scully returned to her previous position, “peanut. I approve.”

Continuing on, they covered all kinds of light subjects, music, family, things they visited often but both always enjoyed, especially hearing about the antics of Scully’s extended family, brothers, cousin, bevy of nieces and nephews. After one exuberant story about Sam, second oldest of the bunch, Mulder wiped his eyes, tears of laughter blurring his vision, “how did you land all these people? I mean, you have the cast of some off-beat comedy show and I’ve got my mother.”

He hadn’t meant to bring the atmosphere down and Scully didn’t want to keep it there but she had to tell him, in words he apparently didn’t hear the first seven times she told him, “you realize my mother has adopted you right? I mean, there may not be paperwork but there’s pie. Also, just to let you know, do you remember when you were asking me about my mom’s dentist appointment, about her infected tooth last week?”

“Yeah?”

“I had no idea she was having any issues but I pretended to know because, good Lord, Mulder, you knew about it and I didn’t.” Giving him that look that made his smile return, “does that tell you anything about the level of your acceptance into my family?”

“I mean,” looking almost sheepish, “she called to talk to you and I answered and we just …”

Patting his shoulder, “it’s okay, Mulder. My mother can love you more than me occasionally. I don’t mind.”

His eyebrow went up, about to bring down the grammar hammer on her, hard, “you love me? I had no idea. When did this happen? Was it after I introduced you to the Conundrum or, ooh, I bet is was around the time you were trapped with me in Alaska. That tiny room? Checking for murderous prehistoric alien worms?”

Total confusion all over her face, “What?”

“You said occasionally, your mother loved me more than you. So, I deduce that you love me most of the time and now I’m trying to figure out when that all started.”

Fuck.

Oh, hell, why not just play along?

“I’m pretty sure it was when you were about to head into the hospital with Modell: looking up at me with that camera on your head, Kevlar all tight, panicked look in your eye.”

Wait … was she humoring him? He was treading into the unknown now, not sure if he should keep going, “um … what?”

Her laughter bounced around the interior of the car, a happy sound, a light sound he hadn’t heard in awhile, “nervous, Mr. Mulder?”

Smiling himself finally, “just … left-field line drive came in a little faster than I expected.”

“Are we back to baseball again?”

He was going to crash the car in the next two minutes if this kept up, “I think we should just drive in silence for a minute. My brain did something and just … give me a minute.”

Fuck again.

She was pretty sure with one joke, two follow-ups and a mention of baseball, she’d quite possibly changed the course of their relationship in ways she had no understanding of. Silence nerve-wracking, she fumbled for words, “I’m just glad the two of you get along so well. It’ll make things easier.”

She’d never felt atmosphere shift like it did in that moment, the air hardening between them. Mulder looked at her, any trace of humor gone from his face, “make what easier?”

“If … if something happens to me. I’ll feel better knowing … you’d … have each other, I guess.”

Mulder steered roughly to the left, blew through a stop sign, then pulled them into a large, dark parking lot, a high school if Scully read the sign correctly as Mulder raced past. Hitting the breaks, he threw the car into park, got out and slammed the door, leaving Scully stunned. She hadn’t meant to make it sound as harsh as it did and sighing, she opened her own door, zipping up her sweatshirt as she did so. He’d turned the headlights off so the only light was from a parking lot fluorescents fifteen feet away. Coming around the front of the car, she tugged on his arm, “hey, look at me, please?”

“Have you given up already?”

With a genuine scoff in his direction, “I don’t give up on anything. What the hell kind of question is that?”

“You said when something happens to you.”

“No, I said if.” Taking him by the arms, she turned him around until his back was to the car, “will you sit down?”

“Why?”

“So I can look at you, and not up your nose, when I talk.”

He conceded, sitting down on the bumper, “nothing’s going to happen to you.”

“Yes, I know.” Coming in closer, she forced her way between his knees, “but I learned from you to plan for all eventualities. I have a prepacked suitcase for when you ring my doorbell at 5am telling me we leave in 20 minutes. I have $500 cash in my purse and another $500 in my carry-on for emergencies …”

“Bail money for me?”

“Some of it, yes.” Continuing, “I now prepare for all things, even if there isn’t a chance in hell they’re going to happen. You forced me to learn that and I have and that’s all my comment was. I will be fine,” moving her palms to his face, thinning fingers, delicate steel hands against his cheeks, covering his ears as she tilted his head up to look at her, “but I feel better knowing mom has you and you have mom. You became friends with her while I was missing. I haven’t been forcing you together to create some superficial bond to make my never going to happen, non-impending doom easier to accept. She invites you for pie. You arrive and eat pie. You go home with leftover pie. I have nothing to do with that but I’m glad it happens.”

By now, his hands were on her wrists, eyes glued to her, closing as she leaned in, mirroring that accursed hospital hallway not that long ago. Once her forehead touched his, she whispered, “you are not Max. You have so many people here who love you and need you and you have so much to offer them back and you do. That’s the difference between you and Max. He searched for himself. You search for me, Mulder. You search,” kissing his forehead, then quickly his mouth, “for me.”

Then she wrapped her arms around him and felt his go around her waist. Hugging him tightly, she let the world disappear, sinking against him, warm, solid, against her.

“Who knew this much angst could come from a misplaced modifier?”

“We know now. Never let it happen again.”

With a chuckle, he shifted his head, talking into her shoulder, “Modell? Really?”

She just hugged him tighter, staying quiet against him as he held her close.

&&&&&&&&&&

They may have stayed like that for two minutes. It may have been ten. Regardless, eventually, Scully had to whisper into Mulder’s neck, where her mouth had landed earlier when she turned her head, “Mulder?”

Just as quietly, “yeah?”

“Can you take me home to bed, please?”

“Should I comment on the structure of that sentence as well or just be quiet?”

Giving another kiss to his neck, she pushed back off of him, sly grin, “just take me home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

&&&&&&&&

After a quiet goodnight/good morning at her bedroom door, he wandered to the living room, taking up residence on her couch, 3am sleepy as his head hit the spare pillow and his mind was finally calm.

#My writing #post-max #MulderNScully #Frohike's Granny squares #Byers Mahjong #Mulder's pie #Maggie Scully #xfiles #xf fanfic #xfiles fanfic #txf fanfic #cancer arc

[ally-127]

Since it's a "kiss day" in Korea could you please write a fluff of jeonghan asking a kiss from you

june 14th

pairing: dad!jeonghan x mum!reader word count: 1.7k warnings: swearing, a little bit of marking, suggestive material music: ‘stay gold’ by bts a/n: THERE’S A MINI JEONGHAN IN THIS i’m sobbing i don’t know how how i came up with it but meet yoon jooyoung, jeonghan’s kid.

“mum! i’m going to be late!”

you groaned at your son’s voice. you loved him to bits but sometimes things could get a little rough on your end.

“yes i know, i’m sorry,” you told your seven-year-old son, jooyoung, who wobbled out of his bedroom with his bright yellow backpack already slung around his little shoulders.

“my friends are going to be mad at me,” his pink lips formed a pout, closely resembling that of his father. “i’m gonna go now,” he vanished past your front door.

“wait for me!” you quickly threw on a coat and grabbed your phone before the little man could dash out of the apartment alone.

you bumped into your neighbour in the hallway—you believed his name was hoseok—a kind man about your age and found that your son had his tiny fingers clasped onto his hand. it seemed hoseok didn’t seem to mind, a lively smile stretched across his face from the boy’s sudden gesture.

“ah, i’m so sorry,” you murmured to the man and quickly tried to pry your son away, but he grumbled and almost threw a fit. you staggered backwards, taken aback.

“this guy told me he’s going for a sleepover at his buddy‘s house nearby,” your neighbour looked down at your son, an endearing look on his face. “i can take him there, if you don’t mind. i’m about to head to the grocery store anyways.”

“mum’s always busy,” the pout remained on his face, sulky personality inherited right from his father like a copy-and-pasted text except it was his array of genes.

you sighed. “i’m not busy today, i can take you. no need to trouble ahjusshi.”

“but mum,” jooyoung whined, throwing his hands up and bottom lip trembling.

“what is it?” you crouched downwards so you were in level with him. you took his free hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his small ones.

to your huge surprise, he leaned in and pressed the biggest, sloppiest kiss on your cheek.

“happy kiss day, mum.”

at this point he was a direct clone of his father. the fact that even his cheeky grin looked like your husband made you melt into a puddle on the concrete floor.

he giggled. “hang out with dad when he comes back, mum. you’re always at the work and you never hang out with him when he’s here anymore,” he then pulled you in closer so he could whisper, “give dad a kiss today.”

at that you turned bright red, heat crawling up your neck. your son had just indirectly told you that you did not show enough affection to his dad—your husband—and it left you a lot of questions.

mind you, he was only seven.

in addition to that, your neighbour had just witnessed this entire notion.

“did i just hear the word ‘kiss day’?” a familiar voice questioned from behind you.

it was all too familiar to the point that you felt relieved, sometimes longing, upon hearing it.

“dad!”

you rose up from your crouching position, watching jooyoung unwrap his hand from hoseok’s to run into his father’s arms.

jeonghan let out a laugh, only filled with warmth and joy from seeing his son after a month of being away, as he lifted jooyoung off the ground and cradled his son in his arms.

“hey, son,” jeonghan’s dark hair swept across his brow as he looked at his son, eyes sparkling as he did.

“i missed you,” the boy gave his father a tight hug.

“i know, i did too. more than you know.”

for once, you were third-wheeling jeonghan and jooyoung. hoseok was too. but he remained unbothered, face like a blooming sunflower as he witnessed a father and son reunion.

“where are you going, buddy?” jeonghan eyed the boy’s backpack as he finally let him down

“sleepover,” he grinned. “at my friend’s house.”

“which friend?”

“i’m not telling you,” like a typical seven-year-old, jooyoung snickered.

finally, your husband looked at you. however, it was not in the form of greeting. it was rather in the form of confirmation that your son would be okay in this arrangement of a sort.

you nodded, jerking your chin at hoseok, silently telling jeonghan he’s going to be the one taking him there.

“why aren’t you the one taking him?”

“because—“

“it’s a secret!” your son yelled and tugged on his dad’s sleeve.

getting the signal jeonghan bent sideways so jooyoung could whisper in his ear just like he did with you.

it was almost comical, the way a grown man’s expression could change because of a few words a little boy had whispered into his ear. jeonghan was now smiling ear-to-ear, the signature scrunch of his nose prominent, pretty eyes now fixated on you instead.

“okay.”

“yay!” jooyoung scuffled back to hoseok, but before that he gave you a hug, as big as a seven-year-old could give. “see you later, mum.”

“ready to go?” the kind man asked him.

“yup,” he took hoseok’s hand and they disappeared into the corner where the elevators were.

that left you alone with jeonghan. you two remained standing six feet apart from each other, suddenly feeling nervous as if it was your first date.

he smiled at you, at your flustered state.

“hi.”

it was all jeonghan needed to say to have you falling into his arms the way your son did earlier.

“fuck, i missed you,” he buried his nose in your hair as you threw your arms around his neck.

“i can say the same,” you murmured, drowning in the musky scent of his cologne, a deeply personal scent you’ve gotten used to and a part of jeonghan you missed dearly whenever he was away.

”let’s head inside, shall we?” jeonghan said, minty breath brushing against your ear.

you hummed in agreement, heading over to unlock your front door and hold it open so jeonghan could drag his suitcase in.

“thanks,” he pushed it to the side and let the door fall shut behind him.

his eyes were still designated on you, the expression behind them expecting as he watched you take off your coat and hang it beside the door.

golden sunlight, warm and buttery, slipped through the blinds of your apartment. it highlighted the refreshed glow from within his skin. whether it was from happiness or an updated skin care routine, you didn’t know but he looked better than ever.

“are you hungry?” you swerved his gaze, wanting to know how long you could draw this out. there was a game you wanted to play, and jeonghan knew it extremely well.

your feet padded into the kitchen before you could stop them, increasing the distance between you and your husband.

jeonghan shook his head in response, leaning his hip against the kitchen island to watch you grab both him and yourself a glass of water. he rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows, exposing the stretch of muscles on his forearms.

tension was very well present in the air and you both were aware of it. regardless of that you two chose to ignore it.

“how was tour?” you asked, setting the glass down in front of him.

“it was fine,” vague. like the answers he would give you whenever you didn’t give him something he desperately wanted.

you chuckled. “jooyoung is exactly like you.”

“what do you mean?” the smirk that quirked by his lips showed that he knew exactly what you meant.

“you give me unsatisfactory answers when i don’t give you what you want.”

you round the kitchen island, toward him. you circled your arms around his neck once again, clasping your hands together. his invigorating smile mirrored yours, his hands reflexively shifting to support the small of your back. you tipped your head up to meet his eyes.

“so tell me, yoon jeonghan, what is it can i do for you?”

“kiss me,” he mumbled after a moment. “you heard our son, it’s the national kiss day today and—”

you cut him off with your lips, his words muffled by them. a grunt left his lips from the impact, jolts of electricity running up his spine. he spun you around without breaking the kiss pressing your lower back against the hard edge of the island. jeonghan braced his hands on the hard surface of it and trapped you with his body.

“do you know what jooyoung told me?” you told him once he pulled away for air.

“what?” he grinned at the sound of your son’s name from your lips.

“he said i should hang out with you today,” you recalled the words your little boy whispered into your ear. “and told me to give you a kiss.”

“you don’t do that enough,” jeonghan teased and kissed the tip of your nose.

“which?”

“both,” gently, he moved down to kiss the corner of your mouth.

“i don’t kiss you enough?” you raised a sceptical eyebrow along with the corner of your lip.

“twelve years and i’ll still never have enough of it,” his mouth tackled yours once again.

it didn’t take him a second for the curvature of his lips to mould into yours. the shape of yours was imprinted onto it, a muscle memory claimed by you and you only.

the air around you grew warmer, his breath now becoming yours with each kiss. one arm around your waist and the other under your jaw, he held you close to him.

his tongue, like the tease that he was, swiped across your bottom lip. with one arm he hoisted you up onto the kitchen island so he could stand in between your legs. his hand reached behind to cup your ass and you gasped into his mouth.

“hannie, what are you doing?” you held him back with hands on his shoulders.

“kissing you,” he shrugged like it was nothing. “what else?”

“liar.”

“i can’t kiss with tongue now?” he’s pouting and god did he look like jooyoung.

“you can,” you pecked him once, twice. “i just forgot that we’ve got no one watching us now.”

“it’s daddy’s day off,” he tilted his head to your neck, beginning to suck marks of purple and red on your skin. his fingers toyed with the hem of your shorts. “it’s time to make you feel good.”

you arched into him, digits tugging on his hair to lure out a low, desperate growl from his lips. wetness pooled in your panties from the sound alone, and you wondered how you were going to be able to handle the rest of him.

“shall we make jooyoung another sibling?”

#seventeen #jeonghan #yoon jeonghan #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan smut #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan drabbles #jeonghan x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagines #seventeen drabbles #seventeen x reader

[kanene-yaaay]

No Moving

Kanene’s note: One year ago I threw a surprise party (very small and cozy) in my house and, after some hours, one of mah friends suggested we played some old games from our childhood and I remember my first thought was “Hey, no. We’re not children anymore.” but I said nothing because that sounded a lot like what society would want me to say. We played. And that was one of the best days I’ve ever had. Good enough to give me inspiration for this fanfic. With a lot of chaos and dorky sides and chaos and tickles!!! So I'm giving this to myself as a gift, because, ya know... S e r o t o n i n! Soooo, the lesson? Idk. Be feral, do chaos, play and f**k the society, I guess. Happy day for us all!!! :DD

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* This characters don’t belongs to me! They all belong to Thomas Sanders and his series Sanders Sides!

* This is a SFW tickle fanfic, so, if you don’t appreciate this kind of content, please, look for another blog. There are a plenty of fabulous arts in this site!!  ^w^)b

* This is Ler!Roman and Ler!Virgil with Lee!Logan and Lee!Patton. Around 3.700 words.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any and every advice is very very welcome! \(-w-)/

* Eu vou traduzir ainda ;w;. Thank you so so so much for being with me through all this crazy and difficult year. It’s been a bless to have all of you in my notes, my askys, and my notifications! Take care of yourself, lollipop, you deserve. <33

[~*~]

It was a sunny day. The heat from the biggest star of our solar system being placated by a relaxing wind incessantly throwing the napkins from the so careful, yet messy – as if this wasn’t a tradition the quartet repeated affectionately every single year – decorated table. The friends positioned themselves around it. The surprise party’s rush being already over after all their screaming, singing, eating and bickering, leaving the four to lazily chat or stare the breeze carrying lonely flowers around Virgil’s – the one who offered his house as a sacrifice to the chaos - yard, making them float in the air for some seconds before forgetting them on the dirt again.

Virgil snored softly from the spot he conquered on the tabletop, taking a peaceful nap. Patton was saying, in the fastest pattern he could muster, all the dad jokes his brain managed to think only to see how much time Logan would continue to give him the silent treatment before finally – and figuratively, the owner of the only brain cell of their group would say if he heard this narrative, - exploded and Roman? 

Well, Roman was bored.

“I HAVE AN IDEA!!”

Then he slammed his hands on the top of the wooden object, successfully scaring Virgil out of it and of his sleeping – leading the poor adult to fall. Not before kicking a cup in Roman’s direction, his moves being weakened enough by his fogged brain so he missed it and hit Roman’s carefully manicured hands, instead, – at the same Patton, by reflex, slapped the two poor persons who had the bad luck of sitting next to him. He gathered the perfect timing to interrupt Logan’s scared jump by his confused ‘Why did- why- Why did you hit ME?’ sputtering.

“Ow.” The one in red shirt held protectively his arm and hand next to his chest, protesting with his usual offended noises as analyzed the light red spots on them and purposely ignored the ‘What the FUCK, Princey??’ shouted by the host. “Ow. O-w. Are you guys seriously going to hit me every time I try to make your poor lifes better, your barbarians? You know what? I am offended. Your peasants. I am going to get my dear Amanda the katana and then I am- I am out.” 

Logan deadpanned in his direction, lifting one of his eyebrows in his disbelief expression as the other didn’t give a single step to the exit. He did his best to maintain the façade as Patton fuzzed over him, hugging and apologizing and hugging and softly petting his head and offering cake before gasping and turning around to fuzz now over Roman. “… Okay. I am taking Patton with me.”

“Over my dead, haunted body.” Virgil quickly proclaimed before his tune got slurred, very much likely still sleepy. “I saw…” He balanced his hands in front of him, eyes wide and hair spiked, very much reminding of a scared cat. “I saw the angel of death, in all his tall dark, cold aura. In front of me. He was right before me, full of-” He moved his hands more, as if that compensated for his lack of words. “Emo.”

“…Thanatos?” Logan pointed.

“Yeah, yeah. That guy.” Virgil came back to his initial position laying down on the cold surface, yawing. “Totally emo.”

“Actually, when he was created-”

“Excuse me. Focus, focus!” The one who initiated the commotion snapped his fingers until all the eyes were fixated on him, glares traveling from interested to unimpressed. “My brilliant idea? That will light up this party and hearts? Drum the drums!” Silence. He turned to Patton, who was staring at a cute butterfly mindless flying around. “Patton! The drums!” The one wearing black rims seemed to come back to reality, drumming his fingers on the table. “Very well!” Roman spun, extending the suspense. Logan came back to scrolling on his phone, Virgil getting closer to take a look, both hiding a smirk when heard the pout in Roman’s tune. “You’re all jerks and boring. Let’s play S.T.O.P!”

That caught their attention.

“Roman, you are…” Logan talked slowly, as if trying to make his words as clear as possible, “aware that we’re adults now, right?”

“Aw, come on, guys!” Patton jolted upright. “Sounds fun! And I think Virgil’s yard is bigger enough to make it even better than when we played in middle school!”

“Exactly! And it was one of your favorites games when you were younger, remember, Specs? I think it’s a good way to celebrate that special date which is your birthday!” Logan scoffed at that, albeit his mind was somewhere else. 

Roman wasn’t wrong, he really used to love this game, especially because he was good at it. His love for sports was often ignored by most of his classmates because of his good grades – Logan never understood why one thing would exclude other – therefore he was constantly forgotten in the team or even underestimated. Two things extremely crucial in a game like this. Roman noticed his contemplating face. “I mean, except you are afraid of losing. Again.” 

“I did not lose! Kyle fell on me and he was the only one supposed to be out and not both of us and you. Know. It!”

“No, no, no! Claire said you were the one who tripped on your way and then YOU fell on Kyle-”

“That is nonsense! If Claire had stopped just one second her Dance of Victory, she would be able to see that, by the angle we both were on the ground there was no way I would be able to-”

“Oh, plu-e-ase. You are just a sore los-”

“What is this game?” Virgil questioned Patton, both letting the bickering fall on the background, who smiled widely, his gaze unfocusing a bit, probably watching some old memories of his childhood.

“It is a very simple but fun game!! One person stays next to a wall and, oh! We call him the Looker by the way! Or even some large thing and the others players stay the most away from him as possible. The person next to the wall has to count until a certain number of his choice and while he is counting everyone is free to wander around the place until he turns around, then every player has to freeze on the same spot and position they were. If you move and the Looker catches you, you’re out. You win if you touch the wall where he was. You can do everything you want as long the Looker is not staring at you.

“There was that one kid who managed to win the game by climbing a tree until he was close enough to jump from it and run to the wall before the Looker shouted he was out.” The one wearing two party hats as ‘cat hears’ stopped to breath. “Ah! Ah! Also! If you’re out you can choose to just watch the game or become the Looker’s partner and try to help him. Roman and Logan used to be the worst ever when together.” He giggled, sounding a bit hysteric.

“Hm. I think they used to call this ‘10 Seconds’ in my school, since you could count only further than 10 seconds.” Virgil then frowned. “Wait, why were they the worst?”

“Uhh, so, you see, the Lookers can use some… attics to try to make you move. Logan and Roman usually choose to-”

“I do NOT wish to participate.” Logan stated, crossing his arms stubbornly. Roman sighed. 

“Well, you do you.” Roman then traveled his glare to the others two. “Are you guys coming? I’m the Looker.”

“I’m in!!” Patton excitedly got up, joggling his way to the yard, casting a slightly worried look at Logan, who was adjusting his chair in order to have a better view of the game. Virgil shrugged, taking off his hoodie and following them, quickly throwing a ‘You ok?’ as he passed next to the most professional of the group.

“Yes.” He deeply breathed, sounding calmer. “Yes, I am.” And then give him a bite of a smile. 

Roman positioned himself before the colorful three foot tall concrete tunnel forgotten there by the last owner, barely catching with the corner of his field view his two friends whispering something to each other, the one wearing two party hats snickering behind his hand, bouncing as also choose a good position far away from him, who tried to not think much about what he just presented. A suspicious feeling crawled the back of his neck.

“Go.” Logan pronounced. 

“Oneeeee, twooo, three, fourfivesixseveneight,” Roman turned away from them, counting in a tune just above a whisper. Patton and Virgil exchanged glances.

When he got at twenty, he turned. 

Only to find Virgil laid on the grass, his arm extended to point something in the sky, Patton crouched by his side, his face firm in a puzzled expression staring in the same direction, hand above his eyes to block the Sun. Roman frowned in confusion, the curiosity tickling the back of his brain until he succumbed to it, also looking at the sky to - surprise, surprise! – find absolutely nothing!

By the time he stared at them again Patton now was in front of Virgil, both making what seemed like a very horrible parody of The Creation of Adam painting. Roman got closer, managing to clearly see the smug smile on Virgil’s face and Patton wobbly lips, very much likely holding laughter. He crossed his arms, staying stubbornly for some seconds before giving up, seeing that none of them moved a single millimeter. 

“You two are so funny.” Roman rolled his eyes, sarcasm dropping from each word. Logan snorted.

This time the Looker counted at only fifteen seconds.

This time Patton was in Virgil’s arms when he turned, one leg suspended dramatically in the air. The third time Roman growled loudly as Virgil was on one knee, pretending to propose to Patton who was frozen in the middle of his faint. In the fourth he didn’t even have the chance to turn before two hands tased his sides, making his knees buckle but being held in the same place when a pair of arms that hugged him from behind, capturing the poor adult in a flow of high-pitched squeaks and surprised laughter at each squeeze and spidering deposited just above his hips. 

Some minutes later soft snorts followed him to the ground when he was finally freed, flames running on his face and his arms firmly pressed at his sides, the ghost tickles leading to a sea of giggles dancing in the air.

“Enough.” Logan cut the moment, all the eyes on him when he got up, stretching and loosening his party tie. The Looker recomposed himself in order to sneak pokes and squeezes on the other two, who quickly dashed their way back to the yard. “You both clearly aren’t taking this seriously enough.” A dangerous gleam took over his eyes, staring intently to Roman, who instantly got the same kind of shine in his own glare, nodding in his direction. Both too much preoccupied to notice Virgil and Patton silently high fiving in the distance.

The game started again, now a very different electricity dancing in the air. Logan sensed an old feeling of nostalgia resting on his back as he analyzed the place and his opponents as things went by. Roman turned for at least three times – the perfect number for things to get really interesting, - before he decided to finally move from his place.

Silent steps, he went right to Patton. Logan breathed in relief, taking the opportunity to adjust his strategic position half behind the tree. Patton kept a pattern of switching from moving too fast in a round and then barely taking a step in the other, however, as Roman stopped before him, and for the way he soundless snickered as The Looker changed his target to Virgil, his weakness was still holding his laughter when stared for long periods of time.

Virgil was sitting on the grass. Again. A very good tactic when you tend to fidget or tremble a lot. He would stay in the same position for some rounds until in an explosion of energy dash forward when Roman wasn’t paying attention. The Looker crouched in front of him, his index finger pointing and almost touching his nose.

“You. I don’t trust you.”

And then there was Logan.

“You,” Roman stared in distance – not because of fear pffff of course not - Logan’s form half hidden by the foliage and trunk of the medium tree, his glass making his eyes gleam in a light even more enhanced due the shadow provided by the plant, the rest of his face being partially hidden because of his bangs falling on his features. “are fucking creepy. Stop.”

In the next round Patton gave everyone a heart attack when he screamed since he didn’t heard/saw Logan approaching his spot. Two more rounds. Virgil sneezed and lost his balance in a not very ideal mid-run position. Out.

“Oh, thank gracious, great goodness!! Come here, Knight Mare!! I have an idea!!” Virgil barely had time to stop swearing for losing before being recruited by Roman, who immediately began to whisper in his ear.

 “What do you think they’re talking about?” Patton asked, both being close enough for the question doesn’t need to be spoken above a murmur.

“Not a good thing for us both, I am sure.” In that moment The Lookers turned and a cold shiver ran Logan who, for the way Patton trembled, wasn’t the only one. Adrenaline started pulsing on his veins when they approached, although the birthday person had no idea of why. His old memories too much buried under newer ones for him to catch them.

“Nooohoho.” The cat lover whined and the fact Roman clearly saw that but did nothing to point it, his only reaction being to expand his grin, worsened Logan fears, a ray of recognition finally shining on his mind. That should be how karma feels.

“Look at you both, just standing right there, not being allowed to move an only single inch. What a sad fate, don’t you think, Princey?”

“Oh, absolutely, emo. A horrible, wondrous thing, indeed. But you know what that would be perfect for?” Roman now was just a few centimeters away, the infinitesimal distance being cut when he inclined forward, his breath tickling Patton’s – Poor Patton – ear. “Revenge. You know, Pattycake, Hot Topic here told me the previous attack on my amazing person was your idea. And now that I stop to think, what a wonderful idea, don’t you think, Pat-pat?”

Virgil pulled lightly Roman’s shoulder, sensing the other about to crack but yet having too much fun to end this all so early. “But not now. No touching, right?”

“Oh, right, right. Of course, no touching!” He wiggled his fingers, barely away from the poor target’s ribs, his cheeks already beginning to get pink from blush. “No touching, no touching, no touching, but, most important than anything else: no. moving.”

“Oh, yeah.” Virgil took the opportunity to walk around, stopping right behind Patton, who firmly closed his eyes, the smile he carried getting bigger. “Because the exact, very moment when you can’t take the teases anymore so you break and move?” He tsked. “Then all your protection will be over and you will be all helpless and vulnerable for us to tickle,” He almost purred the words, in the slowest way possible. “tickle, tickle, tickle for hours and hours. Can you imagine that, Popstar? Our fingers prodding and squeezing and tickling every single ticklish spot they find?”

“Ohoho.” Roman evil laughed. “Tickle spots? My Dear Imbalanced Romance, our pipsqueak here doesn’t have any tickle spots. He IS a tickle spot. Ah! I can almost hear his hysteric high-pitched squeaks and giggles! Such an adorable, beautiful, cute melody to my ears. Actually, I don’t know if I will ever be able to stop, Virgil. It’s just all too beautiful and intoxicating, you know?”

“Mm hm,” The other seemed to stop to think. Patton felt like he was going to melt at any moment. “Well, we could always just keep going forever.”

“Of course!” Roman again ignored the slight trembling of the cat lover’s chest, probably due all the giggles trapped there. “Don’t you think it will be wonderful and oh, so, so fun, cutiepants? Receiving all the tickles and nuzzles and raspberries and tickle hugs and tickly butterfly kisses forever and ever and ever? ~” He sing-song the last part.

“But,” Logan almost jumped in the same place, not even realizing how much keyed up he was before Virgil’s breath attacked the back of his defenseless neck. Suddenly all his nerves were hype-aware that he couldn’t turn around or run or even rub away the tingles. Goosebumps ran freely across his spine. “Let’s not forget about our so sensitive nerd here too, right?”

“Sure. Sensitive.” If he didn’t know Roman for all these years, Logan would almost swear he was the Cheshire cat, his smirk almost blocking Patton who hugged himself behind him, giggling quietly. “Because the serious, smart, professional Logan would never be ticklish, right? That is such a childish thing and he definitely, definitely outgrow it for now.”

“Yup. I am sure that, if we slowly and thoroughly spider our fingers all the way up from his sides to his armpits, being sure to give each and every rib a special attention since we don’t want to let anyone feeling left out, there will be no reaction.”

“Absolutely! No reaction at all! Not even if we squeeze the hollows of his hips, or scribble on his already quivering tummy, or massage his shoulder blades or lightly, almost not touching, scratch his armpits… It will be all in vain since our birthday boy is not ticklish.”

“Which means: No wheezy, frantic laughter.”

“Or sputtering among his squeals.” 

“Or cute snorts. Don’t forget the snorts.”

“And what about when the snorts get mixed with his belly laughter?”

“Ohh, that is some good shit you have there.”

Logan was dying. He was fucking dying and the only thin line keeping him alive was his stubborn nature. He could already feel his barrier cracking and crumbling right before him. He took a deep breath and opened his eyes, only to find both Lookers walking away back to the tunnels, not taking long before starting to count, this time out loud. The one with the, now freaking out, braincell began to snap his fingers non stop, trying to get away some of the built excited energy, some titters escaping from his lips during his happy stimming.

Roman and Virgil looked at each other and then the adorable scene right in front of them, deciding to have mercy and wait patiently for Logan and Patton – who yet didn’t stop giggling and hugging himself – to calm down.

(…)

One. Move.

And in the next second, they both were tackled on the ground.

“No, no, no!!! No!!” Patton was already giggling, trying to run from Roman’s firm hug, attacking with squeezes and scribbles in every spot he succeeded to research on the Looker as he also tried to escape from his friends’ hands attempting to hold him in the same place. “Wait, wait!” He cried, barely catching a glimpse of Logan’s trashing before an idea popped in his mind. “If we all gang up on Logan, I will tell about his secret tickle spot!!”

“Patton!!” Logan’s protest came out difficulty between his tight grin due his constant effort in trying to buckle Virgil from him, both struggling to immobilize the other and playfully rolling in the grass. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“Pffft.” Roman said, a happy cry following his sentence when he finally managed to hold one of Patton’s hands, intertwining their fingers so the cat lover wouldn’t try to pry it away. “Nonsense, I know his tickle spots.”  

“Not all of them. ~”

“Patton, I am to going not figuratively end you. Get OFF, Virgil-”

“In your dreams.” He crackled. “Also, Patton, I’m listening.”

“Virgil! Don’t align with the enemy! And, of course I know all of them!”

“Even the one…”

“Patton, no! Stop!” Roman even if concentrated in tickling Patton’s knee so he could sit on his legs, got the slight tremble in Logan's voice, his curiosity one more time starting to take over his brain.

“Sorrey, sorrey, Lo! You know I love you but-”

“Patton, please.” Logan almost smiled as he fought his way to hug and trap Virgil from behind, but losing his balance as the other quickly turned and delivered a raspberry on his neck and quick squeezes on his left thigh. “dON’T!! I-I am going to bakeEEK - Fuck! - you a whole batch of cookies if you don’t tell them!”

Roman caught in the offer, his curiosity immediately perking up, answering in a bat:

“I’m going to tickle you both to pieces if you don’t tell us now.”

“Sorrey, Logan,” Patton tried to sound apologetic, but his excited smile made this task more difficult. “it’s you or me.”

“I’m going to tell them about your calves!” Logan threatened at the same time Patton said “It’s his lower back!”

“TRAITOR!” Both also shouted in synchrony. In a blink of eye Roman let Patton go and helped Virgil to make the most serious one of the group lay down on his stomach.

“I despise you all.” The aforementioned pronounced.

“Aww. Come on.” Virgil lowered, searching the other’s eyes, grinning. “Aren’t you enjoying the view?”

“400.000 years of evolution for humanity to become this. You all should be ashamed of yourselves.”

“You know, talking like this makes me think you don’t want us to give you your so dearly craved birthday tickles, Pocket Protector!”

The three of them stared at the other, looking carefully for any slight indication that Logan was truly uncomfortable with the situation, receiving as response only a scoff, the blush painting his face as a whispered mumble flew from his mouth.

“You’re so cute!” Patton squealed, giving a light tickly kiss on the back of his neck, leading the attacked to suppress a small giggle which progressively got louder as the cat lover tickled his armpits, Roman and Virgil seeing unfazed by Logan’s squirming. “Okay, okay. You have to tickle his lower back but starting with reeeeeally slow scratches at his sides before speeding it to the fastest scribbling you can muster as you move to his spine!”

Logan hid his hot face behind his hands, the yelps and snorts already escaping between his fingers. He was, objectively, going to love every single second of this.

#Ler!Roman #Ler!Virgil #Lee!Logan #Lee!Patton #brief Lee!Roman & Ler!Virgil/Patton #Teases #Teasy cute nicknames #playful tickles #Sanders Sides tickles #Happy stimming #Sanders Sides tickling #tickle fic #Logan playing is inspirated in one friend of mine who is adorable until he starts to play then he becomes a fucking thing #out of a fucking horror movie #If he got too much close of me I would scream and I'm not kidding. He was terrifying and he loved this xD #Ohhh so that is how writing a self indulgent fic feels like- #My first plan was to make a LAMP series with all their birthdays but life said 'no' and then I just worked with what I had and #being pretty honest??? I am so so so much proud of it. #Especially looking at my first tickle fic ever which I wrote around this same time last year #Btw when I used to play this at school light tickles and teases were allowed xDDD #EXTREMELY RARE but allowed xDD #Self care is writing ur self idulgent fic while listenning your fav nostalgic playlist

[plutoismydaddy]

I can read you like a book 1

Jimin x reader Gangster au

In the midst of a gang war Jimin finds himself in his own war, a war between himself and the feelings he was developing for the girl with the fuzzy pink scarf. 

CH1 CH2 CH3  CH4 CH5

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“Have a nice night” you smiled as the old lady walked through the doors of the café, your smile being replaced with a tired sigh once she was out of the building. Just one more hour and you’ll be able to go home and finally rest, get a break from this tiresome life. 

Leaning onto the counter you peered through the empty cafe, basking in the peace. You felt your eyelids start to flutter, slowly inching down. You were alone in her and if someone walked in you'd hear it, so maybe it wouldn't hurt to rest your eyes for a second. Letting your eyes finally close you felt your hair fall onto your face as it tilted forward, slowly falling asleep your half-awake head was filled with nothing but the ticks of the clock behind you. Slow consistent ticks, tick tock, tick tock, tick to- bang. The sudden loud sound ripped you out of sleep, head snapping up you instinctively crouched down and eyes darting around the room, but it was just as empty and still as before. Your eyes peered out the windows, the streets were just as empty as the small shop you stood in. Yes empty, apart from the hunched over, stumbling figure, two new bangs rang through the air and the man's body jerked as the bullets hit his body before he fell to the ground. Eyes still fixated on the figure you saw something out of the corner of your eyes. Frozen you watched as the old lady you had just served walked toward the body, you watched as bullets hit her body and you watched her fall to the ground, the coffee cup smashing against the ground. 

“I’m sorry you had to see that” the police officer smiled pitifully at you but you only shook your head back at her with a sad smile “I'm not the one that's lying dead on the street.” you looked up at her before continuing “I guess you’re used to seeing this” she put her pen and paper down “Yeah, it's really sad, almost scary.” you watched as the corner of her mouth pulled up, forming a tiny smirk that betrayed the sad face she was trying to hold. “It’s tragic that she had to lay beside that...man”. You swallowed, this was wrong you knew that and you had promised yourself not to do this again, but you needed answers. “Was he in some sort of gang?” starting the act you looked up at her, shrinking back in your seat eyebrows wrinkled and eyes wide in worry. the officer seeing your reaction straightened up and smiled at you “most likely”. She was obviously proud of her job, you let out a sigh “Ah things like these are not common huh?” the office let out a laugh “The past week has been like the wild west with gangsters being shot left and right”. Letting out a fake gasp you raised your hand to your mouth, the officer continued her hand resting on her cheek seemingly deep in thought “it seems like a new gang has arrived, they’re going around robbing small businesses and shooting gang members even if there is no conflict between them. It’s probably some kids that want to be the new big bad gang” she let out a chuckle. You opened your mouth but she spoke before you standing up “I shouldn’t even share this information” she fiddled with a white watch around her wrist “, but like I said it’s kind of crazy out there right now to be careful” you stood up smiling at her “I will”. Picking up her things she walked past you towards the exit of the café "Thank you for your statement, have a nice day.” you gave her a bow “You too, officer”. She climbed into the police car parked in front and drove away. You at the now closed door, a new gang huh.

You watched the bus get smaller and smaller as it drove away taking your good decisions with it. With a sigh you looked around as you made your way through the streets, each door, wall, and store brought up an old memory from the depth of your brain. Your eyes fell on a group of guys that returned the gesture eyeing you up and down, they weren’t all great memories, now that you thought about it. You looked away and pulled your scarf higher, if you didn’t get shot you'd probably die from cold.

You soon reached your destination, the dark wood door looked just as rough as the last time you opened it. Your cold hand immersed from your sleeve and knocked on the door producing a dull, echoing sound on the other side. Standing there you waited, a few seconds later the door flew open making you step back in shock. You barely had time to process the shocked woman in front of you before she pulled you into her warm arms, pain clutched your heart as you breathed in her scent. She pulled back cupping your cheeks “Soomin?!” you saw her eyes well up with tears “Don't cry Munhee, ‘cus I’ll start crying too,” you laughed trying to blink back tears. You sure had missed everyone, but you didn’t realize to what extent until now. “I just missed you so much” you mirrored her smile, your vision becoming blurry as your eyes narrowed, she pinched your cheeks “God I missed you”.

 Munhee had been shocked when you said you had come here to speak to Hyunshik as she walked you to his office. The halls and rooms were the same yet different somehow, even Munhee seemed a bit off but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Hyunshik looked up as the door closed behind you, his eyebrows flying to his hairline, he rounded his table and scooped you up in his arms in a tight hug. You didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as all the memories and emotions crashed down on you “Oh baby bunny!” a laugh fell from your lips at the old nickname “look at you, all grown up!” you shook your head at the man's antics, it was hard to believe he was the boss of Seoul’s biggest gangs at times. Your smile fell as you looked at Hyunshik properly, bags hung under his eyes and his usual clean shaved face was prickly with stub. “Have a seat.” he pointed to the chairs in front of his desk. You sat down and he joined you in a chair in front of you instead of his usual palace behind the desk. “So why are you here? I thought you swore to never come back here when you left?” the both of you let out a chuckle at the memory. You basked in the happiness because something told you it would end soon. 

“Did you see the news?” guilt pooled in your stomach as you saw how the smile fell from Hyunshik’s face. He looked so tired, “I...I came here because” your eyes fell to your hands, why did you come here? This had nothing to do with you, but somehow you felt a duty to do so. “I don't know, the recent shootings are weird.” the old man looked at you with concern but you gave I'm a reassuring smile “I only saw one, and a police officer told me a bit about others”. “I see you're still the same, tricking people into telling you info.'' your cheeks heated up, you furrowed your eyebrows ``What's going on Hyunshik? These are not normal shootings, they shoot the man in the back and shoot an innocent civilian. I've been gone for a bit but isn't that against basic manners?”. Hyunshik leaned back in the chair, his hands rubbing against his tired face “The officer said something about a new gang.” He only nodded his head “Then why are you letting them do this. They sure aren't experienced based on how many times they had to shoot to kill”, “It’s not that easy” Hyunshik let out a tired chuckle. “Ever since you left things here haven’t been the same'' you had totally forgotten about Munhee, “what? I was just an information gatherer”, “yeah but because so many gangs used your help, they started firing the other guys.”. Munhee closed her eyes as she remembered “It was easier to just use you. Especially ‘cause you decided not to make any connections with an individual gang and didn’t reveal information on rivas”. You blinked at her “I still don’t understand, aren’t there any other moles that did that?” “Nope” it was Hyunshik time to speak “Those bastards would do anything for money even if that meant ratting out their own gang… or killing rival moles''. 

You looked between Munhee and Hyunshik “OK and what does this have to do with this new gang", “As Munhee said, the moles had a harder time finding work after the bigger gangs started only using you.”. His hands came back to rub his temples “They formed their own gang when you left and killed all the other moles that followed your way of work, and they are threatening to reveal everything if even one of them gets as much as punched.”. This was bad, you thought. “Are they a big gang?” Munhee shook her head “Then why won't all the gangs just come together and just take all the members down at the same time” you perked up at your idea but Munhee only shook her head and crossed her arms. “We’ve already tried this, but every time we try to come up with a plan everyone starts pointing fingers and blaming at each other” you blinked back at her “you're joking?” the two only shook their heads.

Silence filled the air but your mind was racing. You didn’t want to get back into this business, even if it was only for a while. You barely made it out and you'd put the new life you worked so hard on the line, yet you couldn’t walk away. Hyunshik had taken care of you like a father, hell all the gang had become your family. Lips pouting in thought you spoke, “We’ll why don't I go talk to them?” “No” Hyunshik's voice was firm as he stood up “you're not getting involved in this mess... I still haven’t forgiven myself for letting you into this world before. I'm not doing the same mistake again” he buried his face in his hands “Hyunshik I choose-” he interrupted you standing up “You were a kid, we even called you baby bunny like some sick ironic joke.” You watched him sit behind his desk pulling out some papers “Well, I’m grown up now” he looked up at you, but you didn’t allow him to speak “I don't want you or anyone else I love to die. Those bastards are tainting my past work and I feel in some way guilty.” Hyunshik let what had to be the hundredth sigh, burrowing his head in his hands for a moment before speaking again “God you're just as stubborn as before” he leaned forward eyes piercing into yours “But promise me only to speak, nothing more” you turned and walked towards the door with a laugh “I don't know I’ve been breaking a lot of my promises lately” you stopped by the door, smiling at the man “Don’t worry”. 

You looked up at the sky, it was getting dark but you had only one gang left and had purposely left it to last. Convincing the other leaders was easy, you didn't know if it was because of your past with them or because they were desperate for a solution, but you would soon find out as you walked towards your next target. BTS.

Your ears had become used to the dull and faint sound of knocking at this point, the door opened slowly revealing the face of a guy and his confused face. “I'm here to talk to Namjoon.” a scoff fell from his lips “He's busy right now sweety.” he started closing the door with a smirk. Keeping your polite smile you spoke again “It’s about the black doves.” you watched the door stop, then slowly opened again but this time he eyed you with a septic look, he looked almost disgusted to hear that name.

“I’m sorry to bother you at this hour, I’m sure you know how much the leader of the Tigers likes to speak” you chuckled as you gave him a small greeting bow. He returned the bow from where he was sitting and gestured to one of the chairs “Why don't you sit down?”. You sat down folding your scarf on your lap “Would you like something to drink?” you shook your head “No, I won't take much of your time” he nodded with a smile, and the doors closed behind you. “I don't think we have met before, I’m Lee soomin.”, “Baby bunny, right? I’m Namjoon.” you chuckled “I see you’ve heard about me, but maybe not in the best way.” Namjoon leaned forward interlocking his fingers “Well some like to blame you for a couple of things that have been going around recently.”. You returned the smile “would you believe me if I said I didn’t intend for that?” a chuckle left his lips as he leaned back in his chair. “If you don't hate me too much could I maybe offer a solution?” “A solution?” Namjoon raised an eyebrow “Well you have probably heard it before, but by the things I’ve heard the conservation doesn't go far.” a smile stretched over Namjoons face “All the gangs getting together and killing those fuckers?” you snapped your finger “Bingo”. 

Namoon’s hand came to rest on his cheek as he furrowed his eyebrows, he was thinking, good. He leaned back towards you still smiling and with squinted eyes “And what does baby bunny get out of this, hmm?” his voice was low testing to see if you'd back down. Eyes turning slightly into crescent moons you smiled back “This might be our first meeting but I’ve known some of these people for years and as funny as it would be to see them get taken down by some wannabe gangsters, I would prefer that not happening.”. A laugh fell from Namjoon’s lips before he eyes you up and down, you did your best to not squirm under his gaze. “Fair enough” he eyed you a last time “You can count us in.” you clapped your hands together the sound muffled by the sleeves that covered your freezing fingers. “Great! Please give me some time to come up with a plan of action and I’ll relay it back to you as soon as possible” Namjoon nodded “We'll be waiting”. You stood up wrapping the scarf around your neck again “I’ll take my leave now then, I’ve taken enough of your time”, “Not at all. RJ please drive our guest back.”. You turned back to Namjoon waving your hands “Oh please that is not needed”.

The slow ticks of the turn signal was the only thing sounding in the quiet car, listening to the repeating sound you couldn’t help but remember the shooting in front of the café. Whoever fired the gun didn’t seem experienced seeing how they had to fire multiple shots. Maybe it was on purpose? To inflict as much pain before they died, but why did they do the same to the old lady? Was it just- “if you keep frowning like that your pretty face will get wrinkled.” RJ's voice shook you out of your thought “Hmm?” he only shook his head with a laugh. The car slowed to a stop at a red light “What’s your address?” it was your turn to laugh as you turned to him “Don't act like you don't know almost everything about me and my life for the past 2 years” he returned the laugh.

Silence filled the car again but this time your mind stayed blank the exhaustion of today catching up “you can call me Seokjin in by the way.” you furrowed your eyebrows, noticing your confusion he continued “I know now more than anytime we should be careful with our information, but you seem trusted by a lot of people” a sigh fell from Seokin’s lips. “I can't imagine the stress everyone has been going through” you eyed Seokjin from the corner of your eye, his shoulders slumped and back arched forward. You looked back forward “the guy that was shot in front of that café, who was he?” you eye him once again but his posture didn't change “I don't know, he was a new member of one of the Tigers” you nodded. “Do you know how many have been  killed by them?” he furrowed his eyebrows. “At least two in the past two weeks” you watched as Seokjin turned his shoulder that was closest to you slightly forward and away from you. He didn’t want to talk about it. It was probably a BTS member or someone he knew. You decided that was fine and just basked in the silence. 

“Thank you again” you smiled as you climbed out of the car and onto the cold street “No problem at all, good night”, “Good night”. You watched as the black car drove away before walking towards your apartment. The snow cracking under your shoes. If someone had told you that you’d spend your only day like this you'd laugh at them, yet here you were running between gangs since 7 in the morning.

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Hello, long time no see! I’ve haven’t been feeling that well recently but that's not important, what is important though is this story. I’m thinking of doing a series with individual stories for each member that has some criminal genre. If you have any ideas or improvements please let me know! Also in this story I used some body language. I don't have an education in it, but I have read a bit and I’m interested in it! Baii, be safe bb!

#bts #btsjimin #jimin #jimin x reader #gangster au #gang au #bts gang au #jimin gang au

[streets-in-paradise]

Fictional Sibling relationships i live for

I had been thinking about this topic lately and decided i would like to make a post about it because it is a very fun and interesting one for me. I had mentioned a few times here that in terms of fandom involvement i am more invested in family and frienships than in shippings, particulary i have a fixation with strong sibling bonds or sibling like friendships. I think it must be because i have a strong bond with my younger sister, i identify with that and that’s why i tend to get more involved and interested in this sort of character interactions. 

I will keep this just in movies, movie adaptations of books and tv shows because i don’t want it to be super long but still want to talk. In movie adaptations i will try to stay in movie’s territory as much as i can, if i add commentary on the book versions this would never end but i may slip a bit towards it because i can’t help it. 

As always, i make the disclaimer over the images i will use here, they belong to the sites where i found them.  

Sorry for my pathetic language skills in english. 

Note: this got so long that i will probably make a second part for more characters i coulnd’t include 

Boromir and Faramir in lotr 

Lotr is full of great material for people who, like me, obsess over families. Frodo and Bilbo, Merry and Pippin, Elrond and Arwen, Theoden ,Eowyn and Eomer are other great examples of family relationships i’m interested on from here ( i pretty much love to overthink stuff about almost all the lotr family relationships). I choose to talk about this bros because they have a particular place in my heart. How many times we had seen the common trope of a royal or noble family where the father is a dick who gives all his love and attention to the older brother, neglects the little one causing him to grow up resentfull and ending up as a villian while dad’s favourite is the hero of the tale? Not this time, and it is so refreshing. 

Boromir and Faramir choose each other over their father’s bullshit, you can see it in the lovely deleted scene the gif up here comes from. When Denethor shows up they are both annoyed, when he is mean to Faramir Boromir calls him out and tries so hard to make him show some appreciation for his youngest son. it is clear that, in this version, Boromir is more family to Faramir than his father ever was. I love how much they care for each other, how they pass beyond the differences. Boromir is a super amazing big bro, i love how he protects Faramir and is there for him instead of letting his father’s praise get in between. I could talk for hours about this two because i love them so much. I’m doing a hard effort in stopping myself from throwing a whole set of headcanons i have for them so i will stop now before i get too excited. 

Fili and Kili in The Hobbit

Staying in Middle Earth for one more mention i had to talk about this two. Being fully honest, the movies broke my heart because they took the exact opposite way i would had wished for. When they were introduced In An Unexpected Journey this two adorable brothers were one of my favourite aspects of it because i loved their Merry and Pippin like dumb chaotic energy. One of my biggest complains with the Hobbit adaptation is to have shifted the narrative of the strongly family focused story arc of the Line of Durin. Kili’s romance with Tauriel shifted the focus and, in my particular perspective, i hated that because i was already super involved in the family story. Besides from the “I belong with my brother”  iconic line we don’t see much more of Fili and Kili’s bond after the introduction of Tauriel. In fact, Fili loses a lot of his initial screentime in Desolation of Smaug and Battle of the Five Armies.

 I love this two, the relationship with their uncle as it was introduced in the first film and i would had loved to see more of their family dinamic explored. One of my biggest complains, besides from the change of focus on their supposed ending, is that i’m convinced that they should had entered the mountain with the rest of the company. It is such an important moment they would probably waited for since they were children, is the legacy of their family. In short terms, i love them and i would had loved to keep seeing future developments of the Line of Durin story they had in AUJ. 

Hector and Paris in Troy 

This two represent the opposite case. The relationship they have in this movie is very different from the source material but i love the great development it has here. It is outstanding to see the importance the sibling bond has in a movie that is supposed to be about a war caused by a romantic passion. 

The sons of King Priam are absolute opposites. Hector is the embodiment of a true hero, a Steve Rogers of ancient times. His strong caring nature and will to protect everyone reminds me of Boromir as well. Unlike Faramir,Paris is a freaking mess. He is the careless, adventurous and reckless little brother Hector ends up protecting every single time he gets into trouble. I had stated before that i think Paris is a selfish prick but i think that is a slight confussion of mine with the original. This Paris is more a reckless dumbass and, unlike Iliad Paris, his arc in the movie it’s a bit more simpathetic. In this version Helen is trapped in a loveless marriage to an old prick who treats her like trash (in the director’s cut Menelaus jokes about how he only cares for his wife for breeding purposes on a conversation with Hector). I can understand at some point that, if he trully fell in love with her, he felt horrible for letting her stay there as a prisoner of her husband. Going back to the my focus for this talk, i like that the movie had decided to make this two close brothers who actually care for each other despite being absolute opposites instead of two guys who barely know each other, are barely aware of being brothers and share only hatefull interactions. 

Hector’s protectiveness over Paris warms my heart. He had threated him a few times ( director’s cut has the “ i will rip off your pretty face from your pretty skull” excharge. I love that scene), he gets furious at him for his foolishness, they argue but when the time comes he always chooses to protect him. Honestly, that’s such a big bro thing, i can’t help to feel identified. The weight that this relationship has in the development of the story is a surprising thing and it makes everything more tragic. Paris being the killer of Achilles has a more significant meaning because, now it’s not just the irony of the weakest character killing the strongest. Paris is aware that he owns the memory of his fallen brother so much, he wants revenge. Hector was there for him all his life, the least he can do for him is to kill his killer and avenge his death. Briseis begs him to stop but he can’t let himself do that, he owns it to Hector and that debt is bigger than anything. 

I will not delay this any longer, the family relationships on this movie are my favourite aspect of it and i have a soft spot for the bond between the trojan princes. Don’t get surprised if i one of this days i end up making an entire separate post talking about the family dinamics displayed in the film (same goes for lotr but that would take me ages and i would have to make an entire series of posts if i wanted to discuss every lotr family relationship i would want to talk about). 

Sam and Dean Winchester in Supernatural 

If you reached this point you may had noticed that i have a big thing with family tragedies involving siblings. Supernatural is my favourite show because it combines lots of elements i love. To mention just a few: horror, mythology,classic rock and a strong family approach in its pretty tragic but outstanding plot. 

Sam and Dean are one of my favourite duo of bros of all time. I don’t think i have a lot to say about them because their relationship has been analized lots of times by the very big fanbase of the show. My main difference with the common interpretation is that i don’t see the Winchester family in a similar way to the movie versions of the Steward of Gondor and his sons, which means i don’t think John has been the shittiest father ever despite his many mistakes. Unlike movie Denethor he tried hard and in the interactions we saw of him with his boys he actually cares for both of them. 

This bros were the ones that made me realize in an actual concient way of my tendency to get too attached to families, story arcs regarding them and sibling love. I’m super attached to this story, i don’t know what the hell i’m going to do with my life once it ends. 

I will end this post here. It is more than sure that there would be a part two because i have tons of more brothers,sisters and other family relationships to talk about. 

Thanks to everyone who has read my very long ramble 

#my weird rambles #sibling bond #family dinamics #families in media #lotr #the hobbit #troy 2004 #supernatural #boromir #faramir #fili #kili #hector of troy #paris of troy #sam winchester #dean winchester #sean bean #david wenham #dean o'gorman #aidan turner #eric bana #orlando bloom #jensen ackles #jared padalecki

[sope-and-shine]

Christmas Special: Day 23

-> Pairing: Dad!Yoongi x Reader -> Family!AU // Neighbors!AU  -> Word Count: 5.4k -> Summary: With the holiday around the corner and a bad breakup stopping you in your holiday loving tracks, there’s only one medicine to help you...and she came in the form of your 4 year old neighbor with a gummy smile and a big heart. -> Warning(s): Mentions of toxic behavior (change yourself for no man, woman, or non-binary individuals) // mild language

A/N: ignore the time. I know. It’s fine. Everything is fine.

Whenever the topic of Christmas came up, you were always the friend hopping right in. By January 3rd you knew what presents everyone would get for the next year, what decorations you would use next year, what seasonal candles you’d string around your home. You were the type of Christmas Crazy that was ready to go for Christmas by the time October hit, but held in your urges just until Halloween passed and November began.

Your boyfriend was not that type of person. To be frank, he’s never been excited about anything, he didn’t even like Christmas all that much. He’s never been the type to get overly excited about Christmas, even when he was younger he didn’t care all that much. He’s not the type to go over the top for any holiday at all if it doesn’t involve getting shitfaced at a party. But you aren’t the type to get shitfaced at parties.

Perhaps that’s why you’ve found yourself in this situation.

“What do you mean, ‘You don’t think this is working out?’ I thought everything was okay?” You ask. The last thing you expected your boyfriend of 3 years to bring up on your date, was the topic of breaking up after everything you’ve been through. Every holiday, every birthday, every hardship, and every piece of good news.

This was the last thing you expected.

Daniel - said boyfriend - sighs, “Baby...You and I just aren’t working out anymore.”

“Why? Why aren’t we working out?” You ask, still confused as to what had suddenly changed in your relationship. Just last week you had been talking about marriage and moving in together, even a family!

He hesitates with his answer, looking very unsure of how to answer you question, as if he weren’t ready to tell you why. 

“We’re just...too different.” He finally gets out, much to your displeasure. You’re even shocked with his statement. As you recall, your above-average love for the holiday season and hyperactive persona in general had been what attracted him in the first place. 

“You said you liked that I was different. You said you liked everything about me!” You remind him. You watch him visibly stiffen and close his eyes. It wasn’t just that, there was something else that was bothering him, and he wouldn’t say it.

“Well, I take it back!” He yells, startling you and a few of the tables around your own. He quickly composes himself and offers you a smile before he drops it again. That’s when he finally admits it.“I just...I’m not happy anymore. I can’t take...you anymore”

His confession is a hard pill to swallow, especially in such a public space like this. Not just any space, but your favorite space to go when you’re working - looks like you’ll be in search of a new one now. You truthfully never expected this from him, never in a million years would you have thought he would end things this way, especially because of you. But you’re a big girl, and you can do this without being petty like most people.

“Okay.” You sigh, not happy about the decision he made, but you have no ground to hold him there.

“Okay?” You can tell he’s confused by your unusual lack of emotion. You wore your heart on your sleeve, and this blank expression you were returning made him confused. But he didn’t have the right to complain about your lack of reaction to his harsh breakup. 

You shrug, “You’re not happy...you should know me well enough to know that I’m not the type of person to force you into anything you really don’t want to…”

“I know…” He sighs. Part of him knew what he was doing may be a mistake he’d regret later, but at this moment it just felt right for him. He takes your hands in his, surprised when you flinch at his touch. His eyes search yours for anything, but you refuse to meet his eyes at full face value, “I’m really sorry this couldn’t work out between us (Y/n).”

“It’s okay.” You assure him, flashing him your bright smile. Even so, he can still see the pain in your eyes from the bad news. You both decide to cut your meeting short, sharing one last hug before you part your separate ways - Him to his apartment downtown, and you to your house uptown. The journey you normally spent thinking about the next time you would see you handsome boyfriend, became the longest bus ride you’d ever taken trying not to cry over what just occurred in your favorite tea shop. But once you did get to the familiar bus stop, and you began to walk through the quiet neighborhood that you knew so well, you couldn’t help but let the tears fall. One after the other, they kept falling and falling until you could barely see where you were going, only relying on muscle memory to keep you going in the direction of your home. 

Who knew the end of a 3 year relationship could put you in shambles like this? Who knew that one person leaving your life could feel this terrible, like your heart was being ripped right out of your chest and taken away forever. It wasn’t like you’d never been broken up with before - you had 3 boyfriends before this one - so why did this one have to matter so much to you? Why did this one have you stopped in front of your mailbox to use it as a support in the middle of your very open neighborhood?

“Miss (Y/n)!” A familiar little voice of your 5 year old neighbor calls from your left.

You’re quick to stand up from your hunched position and wipe your tears, plastering the biggest smile you can muster for the little girl you knew was most likely running in your direction from her porch. Your guess is right of course, her little, black pigtails - with a green stripe on each side - that have been stuffed under her sparkly red beanie bounce with her as she runs to you through her yard. Her smile is bright and gummy just like her father - though her personality is a bit more lively than his - and you can tell she’s been waiting for you to get home just like every other day.

“Hannie~” You cheer, bending down to catch the little girl and pull her into your arms. She throws her arms around you in the same teddy bear hug she gives you everytime she sees you, and you can feel some of the sadness that you had been feeling since the tea shop fade away with the power of this one hug. She never failed to put a smile on your face, and you couldn’t be more thankful for her living next to you and loving to visit you more than you are now. 

“How’s my little Astronaut?” You ask, remembering her newest fixation for the week. Last week she’d wanted to be a Tooth Fairy, but she gave up when she realized she didn’t have money to give people. The week before that, she’d wanted to be a teacher, but Namjoon started trying to teach her how he did and she fell asleep. She didn’t want anyone falling asleep on her. So, it was no surprise to you when she pouted and shook her head, “I don’t want to be Astronaut anymore, Miss (Y/n). Daddy said I have to go to space without him, and I can’t do that. So, I’m going to be a Doctor and take care of Daddy when he gets older and lonelier!”

You laugh at her declaration, “Have you been going to Jeonggukkie’s house after daycare again?”

“Unfortunately, she has.” Another familiar voice chimes in. You look up to find Yoongi standing on the sidewalk in front of you with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. His mint green hair that matches the stripes of his daughters pigtails are tucked under a less sparkly red beanie, a matching red scarf covering the bottom half of his face. He looks like he just got back from work, and stopping by your home to wait for you was a bump in his plans to relax after a long day.

But hey, you could relate to a bump in the road of an already long day.

“Long day at work?” You ask, glad that the setting sun was here to mask the redness of your eyes and the smudged makeup that still lingers with it.

He shrugs, “It can only be so long when your clients all want flowers or hearts tattooed on their hips or their wrists. I’m guessing yours was a little longer?”

Maybe it wasn’t as dark as you thought. You divert your eyes from your neighbor and wipe under your eyes just a bit more than you had when Haneul ran over to see you, “You could say that.”

“Did you have a bad day, Miss (Y/n)? Daddy has bad days sometimes, but he says my hugs make him feel better!” Her little arms wrap around your neck again, her pillowy cheek pressing against your own as she squeezes whatever she can out of you. She was so innocent compared to you, and her child-like sense of how to fix your broken heart made you want to burst into tears again. “Do feel better? Is my hug working? Should I hug harder?!”

You sigh, pulling her just a little tighter against you for comfort, “Don’t you worry about me, Hannie. Your hug makes me feel a trillion times better!”

“That much better?!” She asks, her eyes wide in surprise when she pulls away.

“That much!” You assure her, a bittersweet smile on your face. You felt better, but you still felt like you’d been run over by a car and then run over a second time for good measure. You set the little girl down on the ground and pat her off in the direction of her father. “You go ahead back to your house and I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll have the best playdate ever!”

“Okay!” She nods excitedly and runs back to her father, slipping her small hand into the one he pulled out of his pocket at her silent request. Seeing the two ready to go back to their own home, you head in the direction of your front door.

“(Y/n)!” Yoongi calls. You turn to see him still standing in your driveway with his daughter waiting patiently at his side. His face doesn’t show any emotion, but you can tell he’s conflicted about something. “Are you okay?”

You nod your head, unwilling to really discuss how you were feeling at the moment. You just wanted to get inside and go to sleep after the terrible day you’ve had. “I’m fine, Yoongi, just a really long day. I promise.”

He doesn’t look like he believes you, but he nods and lets the subject go anyways. He nods, “Okay...I’ll drop off Haneul and Holly at 8:30 tomorrow then.”

“Can’t wait.” You smile and vid him goodnight, finally entering your home and allowing yourself to relax and reflect on your day. Only, there’s no little girl to comfort you now, just an empty house with no one to come and relieve your pain.

—-

As the weeks pass and the dry, cold fall weather turns into the icy air of winter, you still have yet to recover from the blow that had been dealt to you. You still did your regular, everyday activities: working on your book at home - or going to the office to have your chapters proofread by your editor - babysitting Haneul on days she wasn’t at daycare, watching Holly even when you didn’t have Hannie, binge watching TV, binge eating in front of the TV. You did everything you normally did except the one activity that never failed to bring a smile to your face.

Christmas decorating. 

It was no surprise that with your extreme love and passion for the holiday that you would have a reputation for the best Christmas decorations on the block. Every year you seemed to outdo yourself, and every year your neighbors became even more thoroughly impressed by your charisma and endless ideas. But with your recently shattered heart, there was nothing that felt right to you anymore, nothing seemed as important to you anymore. Not even Christmas…

...especially if you were alone…

This didn’t go unnoticed however. Your editor - Park Jimin - was the first one that had talked to you about your lack of Holiday cheer(Remind you, your holiday cheer started the 1st of November.) So, when a week into November you don’t start blaring Christmas music from your earbuds for everyone to hear as you walk through his office, he gets a little worried that you may be feeling unwell.

“Are you sure everything is fine?” Jimin asks in the middle of his reading.

You look up from the corrections he had already suggested, pausing from reading through them to meet his concerned gaze. Over the past few you weeks you had been working on chilling out, not getting into the holiday as much as you used to. It was hard at first, but you felt that you were finally getting into the flow of not overdoing the holiday like Daniel said you did.

“Of course, everything is fine. Why wouldn’t it be?” You ask. You shrug and return to your reading, annoying Jimin to no end that you were just going to ignore his concerns for over your well-being.

“You’re...oddly quiet.” He phrases, taking careful steps to not be overbearing on the situation.

You look up again for just a moment with a raised brow, “Did you want me to be loud?”

“No! It’s just-” He sighs in frustration and shakes his head. He was going to get nowhere with you, and he knew it. Anytime you brushed him off like this, he knew there was no point in trying at all. But still, he’d give a go at it at least. “You’re not getting into the Christmas spirit like you usually do.”

You shrug, “It’s just a holiday, Jimin. I don’t have to be excited all the time.”

“Okay, who are you and what have you done with my favorite client?” He asks. One: He didn’t expect you to answer the question at all, he thought you would avoid it completely. Two: He definitely didn’t expect an answer like that!

“I’m only your favorite client because you get paid by the hour and I suck with grammar.” You comment, completely ignoring the problem at hand.

“Don’t you try and change the subject on me, Missy!” He scolds. He drops your second draft on his desk and reaches over the hard wood to rip his changes out of your hands. You glare at him, but he persists. “Tell me what’s going on.”

You sigh and sit back in your chair, ignoring his intense glare, “Look, I’m just going through something right now. I promise you I’m fine, I just need some time to get through this on my own.”

“You know I’m not a fan of leaving people to suffer on their own.” He reminds you. Jimin was the type of person that had to make sure his friends were taken care of and in good health. He never left an argument to fester, he never resorted to violence, and he’d never let you suffer in silence unless you left him completely in the dark - like you were trying to do right now.

You shrug, thinking on your feet to divert his attention - hopefully for good. “You didn’t have a problem when I called you at two in the morning to get cookies.”

“I was in Japan.” He defends.

“Still didn’t care.” You argue.

After Jimin’s failed attempt at getting you to talk about your problems, your brother Hosek was the next person to question your new attitude. Hoseok - just like you - has always been hyper and excited about the holiday season. Then again, you’re brother was excited by a lot of things very easily. So when he came back from the vacation he’d taken with his girlfriend and arranged a day for the two of you to catch up, he was genuinely shocked that you were not wearing anything remotely correlated to Christmas. 

“What are you wearing?” He asks when you finally sit down with your drink.

You look down at your white sweater, jeans, black, wedge ankle boots, and your waist length brown coat. You shrug, “Um...clothes?”

“Where’s your Christmas scarf, or your sweater, or your socks, or that cute hat Lina got for you last Christmas?” He asks.

“One: You traded me the Christmas mugs she bought for you in exchange for that hat, so you tell me.” You remind him, very clearly remembering the fight he put up for you to give him the hand-knit hat his girlfriend had gifted you because he loved it so much despite her telling him she could just make him another one. You pull your drink to your lips and take a quick sip, “Second: Not everything I wear has to be Christmas related.”

“I’m sorry, did you hit your head?” He asks.

You shrug, “No, I just realized that I’m a little too old to be overbearing about a useless Holiday.”

“Uselss-What happened while I was away?!” Your brother is flabbergasted at this point. He left for two weeks to go on vacation, and now that he’s back you’re suddenly a different person? Christas has always been an important holiday in both of your lives, and seeing you just brush it off as another day was like watching a mother just abandon her child. “Christmas is our favorite holiday, (Y/n). We’ve loved Christmas since we were little kids! I literally talked to you about your Christmas plans with Daniel before I left on my vacation with Lina!”

“Yeah, well, I’m not feeling it this year.” You say, “Let’s just catch up, okay?”

“Did something happen between you and Daniel?” He asks suddenly. His questions catches you off guard and your facade breaks for a moment, just enough for him to realize he’s hit the nail on the head. “You broke up...didn’t you?”

“So what if we did?” You ask.

“(Y/n)...you can talk to me about this.” He sighs. He leans over the table and takes one hand in his, reminding you of how Daniel had broken it off with you.

You pull your hand away and glare at your brother, “No, I can’t. Nor do I have to.”

“(Y/n)-” “No!” You’ve had enough at this point. You came here to see your brother, not to be harassed and interrogated about your failed love life.“Hoseok, I don’t care what you have to say about this. I’m a grown woman and I can handle a small break up on my own without my big brother trying to protect me.”

“I just want to be there for you.” He defends. Hoseok is also annoyed, and you can tell by the look on his face. He’s usually just as bubbly as you are, but right now he’s too annoyed to let his bubbly self through.

“Yeah well, forget it.” You sigh and quickly grab your purse off the back of your chair. You stand with your drink and give your brother a weak wave goodbye. “I need to go,” You excuse yourself without even waiting for his response or looking back, and you ignore every call that he attempts.

You felt bad about leaving him in the middle of your lunch date - you still feel bad about leaving - but you didn’t want to be reminded of what had happened with your ex. You didn’t need anyone’s help in getting over him, because it was your fault anyways. He didn’t like you because you were different, and if that was the problem then you needed the time to change on your own. With everyone questioning the new you, how could you even afford to change for the better? However, it was not only the adults noticing your change in behavior.

Little Haneul was the first of the many individuals who noticed your sudden change, and she did ask you about it. But with her being a child barely even in school, you paid her questions no mind and easily brushed them off with the excuse that you were just growing up a little. That did not sit well for long with the little girl. She loved your spirit for Christmas, how bubbly and excitable you were, because she felt like you were just like her. Without a mother figure in her life, you held that place in her heart as what a mother should be. And now that you were changing, looking sad more often, and no Christmas decorations by the week before Christmas?! Unacceptable.

That’s where Yoongi comes in. 

Haneul is a smart girl for her age. She knows she’s too small to do things on her own and understand why adults do things sometimes. Haneul didn’t know why her dad wood get grumpy at times, but she knew that he was a lot happier when she gave him hugs. She didn’t know why Namjoonie wouldn’t laugh at Mr. Jin’s jokes, but she knew that once Mr. Jin started to laugh at his joke, that everyone else would too. But she couldn’t understand why you weren’t happy anymore, or why you didn’t put up Christmas decorations like you always did. 

“Hey Daddy?” Haneul asks, her legs swinging back and forth while she sits at the table across from him coloring. He lifts his head first, eyes still focused on the drawing in front of him for his client coming in right before his store closed for the holiday tomorrow before he gave his full attention to his daughter. “Yes, Hannie?”

“Why didn’t Miss (Y/n) decorate for Christmas yet?” She asks, peacefully continuing her coloring without a care in the world as if she didn’t just ask a very hard question to answer. 

Yoongi tenses. He knew you were going through something, but it wasn’t any of his nor his daughter’s business to know what was going on in your life without your approval. He’s your friend, and digging into your personal business when he knew you didn’t want anyone to bother you was a line he would not cross. Not even for the beautiful girl in front of him.

Yoongi returns to his sketch and shrugs, “I don’t know, Princess. Did you ask her?”

Haneul pouts, glaring at her paper and pausing in her coloring, “She said she was just growing up, but I don’t want her to grow up. She’s big enough already.”

“Well...even big girls want to change.” Yoongi says, struggling to find the right words to explain such a delicate situation.

“But Miss (Y/n) loved Christmas before Halloween, why did she stop?” The little girl asks.

Yoongi sighs, wondering the same thing himself, “I don’t know, Princess.”

“Can we make her stop?” Haneul’s eyes are full of hope, hope that Yoongi knows won’t be of any use.

Yoongi smiles and shakes his head. He places a hand over his daughters squeezes very gently, “This is something that she has to do on her own, baby. You can’t force anyone to do something that they don’t want to do.”

Haneul nods, letting the words her father spoke to her really sink in. It was pretty silly to make someone do something they didn’t want to, that was just plain mean! But still...it would be nice if she could do something for her. But then it hits her, something brilliant! 

“Well...can we do something for her?” She asks, hoping her father will give her the chance.

“Like what?” He asks. He didn’t expect her to climb up onto the table, smushing her drawing and the crayons she was using just so she could whisper her plan into his ear. He knew his little girl was smart for her age, but he truly didn’t give her enough credit for how much she could really comprehend. He nods in agreement when she pulls away to get his approval, “Oh? Okay...you may just be the smartest little girl I know~”

“I know.” Haneul nods, a smug little smile on her face.

----

Another bus ride back from your meeting - or therapy session as it had become - with Jimin, another day of convincing yourself that you need to change for the better, another day of facing the reality that this change is the best decision for you. At least in your eyes it’s what’s best. At this point it didn’t even matter, you were exhausted and completely done with everything about this stupid holiday. Maybe Daniel wouldn’t think you were so different now…

You continue walking down the street lost in your thoughts, unaware of exactly where you are. You just keep on walking until you reach the end of the street, suddenly realizing that you’ve somehow walked right past your own home in your haze. Your quick to turn around to head back to your house, but your taken aback by what’s happened to it. Your once dull, undecorated home that you left this morning was now covered from grass to gutter in Christmas lights and lawn decorations. Your mailbox has a huge bow on top of it, garland draped around the post to the ground where ornaments attached to spikes decorate the bottom. Your lawn - once only covered in snow - now has Santa’s sleigh being pulled by reindeer parallel to your front porch in the middle of the yard, fake christmas presents of all different shapes, sizes, and colors are placed delicately around your lawn(by the sleigh and along the walkway leading up to your front porch also outlined in lights). Your front porch itself has lights wrapped around every post and hanging from your gutters, snowflakes littered in between the posts at different lengths, and a Christmas tree placed in the corner opposite of your door - which has been decorated with a simple wreath. 

You’re speechless, especially when you see that the outside of your home isn’t the only place that’s been decorated. You can see christmas lights inside of your home as well as decorations that you had pulled out and never put back after your break up that changed everything for you. You could even see the undecorated tree just inside your living room with the small amount of light that was visible from where you stood in your driveway. There were only two people that had a key to your home: Yoongi and Hoseok, and your brother was definitely not in town nor capable of doing this without knowing your schedule beforehand. Nor did he have a little girl to peek through the window to watch your reaction to everything they had done.

“Hello?” You call after finally mustering up the courage to enter your home. You heard Haneul’s feet running before you saw her in the light you’d turned on, dressed up in a little green Christmas sweater that reads ‘All I want for X-mas is sleep.’ and a pair of red leggings. 

“Miss (Y/n)! Do you like it? Do you like your surprise?” She asks, bouncing up and down in front of you.

You smile, unsure of how to really respond to the sudden act of kindness. You kneel to her height, “Of course I do! It’s beautiful.”

“Good, because we’ve been working on it since you left.” Yoongi chimes in, appearing from the doorway of your living room wearing his own Christmas sweater reading the same as Haneul’s but in red.

You stand from your crouched position and sigh, “You guys really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“I know, but Haneul insisted that we do.” He explains, arms crossed and unbothered by your conflict.

“You weren’t happy anymore, so I had to do what I know makes you smile.” Haneul explains. 

You knew she noticed your change in attitude, but you didn’t think she would actually comprehend that you were struggling to accept your own changes. She was just a little girl, she didn’t even know Santa was just her dad after she fell asleep for the night. How did she know that you were so conflicted with yourself?

With all the emotions suddenly hitting you, you can’t help but let the first tear fall, quickly turning away with the false notion of a cough so Haneul wouldn’t think you were any sadder than she already knew about. But even if she didn't pick it up, Yoongi did.

“Princess, can you go to the kitchen and start on the cookies we made? Miss (Y/n) and I will be in in a minute.” He assures, easily convincing her to walk away from the two of you so she could hopefully sneak a few cookies for herself while the two of you talked. As soon as she was out of sight and earshot, Yoongi moves forward and spares no thought about pulling you into a hug, “Do you want to tell me what’s wrong now?”

“Daniel broke up with me a month ago.” You cry into his chest, your voice just above a broken whisper. You don’t know what about him made you feel safe to finally open up to someone, but feeling the warmth of someone holding and comforting you was almost exactly what you needed.

Yoongi sighs. He kinda figured something like that had happened - he hadn’t seen your boyfriend around in the month that you suddenly began to forget that Christmas existed - and it kinda pissed him off that you changed this much just because of one guy. “Is that why you suddenly don’t give a shit about Christmas?”

You nod, sniffling and fisting his sweater in your hands, “He said that I was too different for him...that he just couldn’t take it anymore.”

“Yeah, well, he’s an asshole.” He says. Yoongi pulls you away to hold you by your shoulders, looking intently into your eyes, “Look, you are one of the nicest, smartest, and most influential people that I know. You are reliable and hardworking, you overwork yourself to the point of exhaustion sometimes, and for that I admire you. My daughter looks up to you like you’re God himself, and she likes you just the way you were before some asshole decided that he didn’t like you for you.”

“I spent 3 years with him because I thought he did like me for me, and then he just left.” You struggle to hold back your tears, still hurt by everything that happened and how painful the memories were to relive.

Yoongi pokes the inside of his cheek, “Then he’s an idiot to give up someone like you.” And he meant that. If Yoongi could find a woman like you, then he would snatch her up and never let her go. Someone like you would be the perfect mother figure for Haneul, someone like you would be the best person for them.

You would be the best person for them.

And thanks to Yoongi, it’s then that you realize how ridiculous you’d been. Trying to change yourself? Thinking that you were the problem with your relationship? You shouldn’t have let him get to you. Like Yoongi said, it was his loss and not yours. You had amazing friends like Yoongi to support you and care for you better than Daniel did in the 3 years you were together. You were honestly embarrassed to think about everything you’d done in the past month to yourself and others.

You sigh, “You’re right...but I’m the idiot that tried to change myself to please someone.”

“No, you’re just human.” Yoongi offers you a smile, and you can’t help but to return the warmth back to him. You both take that moment just to appreciate each other, not really noticing how intimate the moment is. But it doesn’t last long, as Yoongi remembers the purpose for his visit. He moves his hands from your shoulders and places one in your hand to pull you in the direction of your kitchen. “Now, let’s go decorate the cookies Hannie and I made for you, and then we’ll all decorate your tree together once we’re finished.”

“Can we listen to the Spotify Christmas Radio?” You ask, a teasing smile rising on your lips.

“We’re going to listen to every Christmas song until our ears bleed.” He promises.

And that’s how you spend the rest of your night, decorating cookies and your home, singing and dancing with a 4 year old and her handsome, grumpy father.

#fae #bts #bts x reader #25 days of christmas #25 days of bangtan #x reader #reader insert #(y/n) #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x reader #suga x reader #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jeongguk #bts rm #bts rap monster #bts jin #bts suga #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts v #bts jungkook #christmas au #family au #dad au #f2l

[msjr0119]

One Temptation

Part 4

*This new series is based on The Royal Romance characters who belong to Pixelberry - AU Plot switch*

Riley Brooks moves back to New York after leaving five years prior- struggling to get by in life she wanted to go home. After getting mugged, a woman and man come to her rescue and offer her a job at their strip club. A rich business man Liam Rhys is forced to visit the club as part of his bachelor party. What will happen that night?

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, drunk antics 🤣

Tags-if you want to be removed let me know 😊: @annekebbphotography @burnsoslow @drakesensworld @ladyangel70 @kingliam2019 @bbrandy2002 @butindeed @bascmve01 @drakewalker04 @pedudley @captain-kingliamsqueen @duchessemersynwalker @insideamirage @of-course-i-went-to-hartfeld @kozabaji @texaskitten30 @ibldw-main @kimmiedoo5 @nikkis1983 @dangerouseggseagleartisan @gnatbrain @walker7519 @lodberg @cmestrella @hopefulmoonobject @addictedtodrakefanfic @angi15h @liamxs-world @rafasgirl23415 @notoriouscs @whenyourheartskipsabeat @jovialyouthmusic @nz1091 @yukinagato2012 @indiacater @seriouslybadchoices @rainbowsinthestorm @cordonianroyalty @dcbbw @qammh-blog @beardedoafdonutwagon @jared2612 @princess-geek

*******

Liam walked towards the strip club- not knowing exactly why. Forcing himself to see the girl who’s heart he broke all those years ago.

Liam entered his penthouse after work, noticing the light off- he switched it on. Jumping out of his skin- he didn’t know that Madeleine was there.

“Why are you sitting in the dark? You scared me.”

“Care to inform me as to why Alice is going out with Leo tomorrow?”

“He’s her uncle! It’s about time that he knew about her and spent time with her!”

“You went behind my back Liam!”

“So what DARLING? You and me are over... I’m fighting for full custody and I want you to leave as soon as possible. You are nothing to me apart from the mother of my child. You were the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Good luck with that!”

“I beg your pardon.”

“You heard me Liam, how do you even know that she’s yours?” Madeleine smirked knowing she was getting under his skin. Sipping the glass of wine- she laughed in his face. “When she was conceived, I was still sleeping with your brother remember. Except I knew that you’d be the better option to be a father...”

“You are despicable. You should stop drinking. Alice is mine whether you like it or not.”

“She may not be... did you know Riley had a pregnancy scare when you cheated on her with me?” Liam’s heart sunk, he had only ever imagined a family with Riley. Assuming that Madeleine was lying with what she had just said- his fists clenched.

“You are sick, a disgusting vile creature Madeleine. I’ll see you in court!”

After his argument with Madeleine there were doubts racing through his mind about the true paternity of Alice. If Alice wasn’t his daughter- he had nothing to lose, he knew he’d win back Riley. Surely? Noticing Riley, he walked straight over to her.

“Hello Riley.”

“Oh hi. Please don’t cause any trouble Liam after the last time you was here.”

“I won’t I promise, I just need a drink, and a friend.”

“I’m working Liam, I can’t talk much.” Reaching over to grab her hand, she fixated her gaze on him. He looked broken.

“I’ll ask if I can have my break. I’ll meet you over by the booth.” Watching him walk of to the booth, she noticed his face fall into his hands. She wasn’t a bitch, before they began dating they were close friends- if he was sincere about his intentions of being there, she would talk to him as a friend.

“So what’s up?” Sliding a scotch towards him, she provided a soft smile.

“I don’t think my daughter is mine, she said she slept with Leo around the same time.”

“Maybe the two of you need to learn how to put something on the end of it? I’m sorry Liam, but this is karma for you.” A sly smirk appeared on her face, but she couldn’t bitch about Madeleine when she herself had slept with the two brothers.

“Don’t you see? If she isn’t mine, we can start again? I’ll make it up to you a thousand times over. I know you still love me and could forgive me deep down Ri.”

“I do still love you- I’ve never denied that. But...” Liam forced his lips on to hers, expecting for her to slap him he was confused when she didn’t. Deepening the kiss, he placed his arms around her- he had missed her. Not giving two fucks that Drake had escaped, he knew he wasn’t with Maxwell so he had gone elsewhere.

“Bastien? What the fuck? Where is he?”

“I don’t know? I’m sorry, I must have fallen asleep.”

“For fucks sake!” Storming over to Maxwell’s, he banged on the door. Hoping that Drake was there.

“Liam? Can I help you?”

“Is Drake here?”

“Why would be here? He’s in Texas isn’t he?” Maxwell knew what Liam had done, and he knew to not keep Drake at their apartment- not only for Drake’s safety but also for his.

“Can I check that he isn’t here at least?”

“I’m not stupid liam, but sure check every crevice if you need to. If you do find him please do let me know .”

Knowing she didn’t resist the kiss, he was making it his aim to win her back.

“Liam, I’m so sorry. That shouldn’t have happened. It can’t happen again. I think you should leave.” Touching her lips with her fingertips, she immediately regretted what she had just done. Feeling frustrated with herself, she couldn’t make eye contact with him.

“Ri, I felt something that I haven’t in a long time. Please just give me a chance.”

“I can’t Liam I’m sorry. Please.”

“Okay, I’m sorry Riley. I do love you- I always have and I always will do.” Holding her hand he had hoped that she would see that he was telling the truth- he knew he had messed up. Opening her mouth she was about to respond breaking his heart, knowing she could never forget what he had done.

“Liam?”

“Leo? What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same. Are you okay Ri?”

“Yes, I’ll be ready in an hour Leo. Goodbye Liam.” To avoid the awkwardness, she gave Liam a quick hug before returning to work.

“What are you playing at Leo? Ready in an hour?”

“I’m taking her out with Max. She’s been down since Drake left- I assume that was down to you?” Folding his arms, his eyebrows raised- wondering what wonderful bullshit Liam would produce out of his constant lying mouth.

“Maybe you are right. I need her back, Drake was in the way. She kissed me back- she loves me.”

“You lost her a long time ago- you didn’t see how broken she was- who was there picking up the pieces? Me! I care about her, she’s one of my closest friends. Get Drake back now!”

“What do you mean you picked up the pieces? I can’t- I don’t know where he is.”

“Oh Liam, whilst you was fucking Madeleine. I went to find the apparent love of your life- I found her. I spent a week with her trying to convince her to come back.”

Leo arrived in Florida six months after Riley abruptly left New York, not knowing exactly where Riley would be- he needed a miracle. He had heard in the past of her talking about her Gran in Tampa Bay. It would be like finding a needle in a haystack.

After a few days of searching for her- he had given up hope. Sitting down at the fountain in Hyde Village- he had given up hope. Wishing she wasn’t stubborn and kept in touch with the people who cared for her. Believing it was his imagination, he stood up seeing the brunette walk past him.

“Riley Brooks.” Turning around slowly, she recognised that familiar voice- the colour drained from her face as if she had seen a ghost.

“L- Leo? What are you doing here?”

“I could kill you at times Missy- we’ve all missed you. It’s a free country, I don’t have to explain why I’m here. How are you doing?”

“I’m better, thank you. How are you? You look more toned.”

“Do you like what you see? It’s what single life does to you... sends you to the gym.” Winking at her, he always flirted with her in the past- it was typical Leo.

“You look good Leo, but I have to go. My Gran is expecting me.”

“Let me take you out tonight please.” Looking into his piercing eyes, she couldn’t resist saying no to one of her best friends- in the back of her mind she was contemplating what his true intentions were for showing up unexpectedly.

“Leo, I’m not interested in Liam. If that’s why you’re here.”

“No, I’m here as a friend.”

“Oh sorry. No funny business though alright Leo? Don’t be getting us into trouble.” Remembering back to the good old days, Leo nearly got them all arrested one night- laughing at the memory she knew if she refused he would be persistent in persuading her to reconsider.

“I can’t promise that.”

“Come back with me then we will go out. I just need to give her her medication and make her some food, change her catheter...”

“Is that why you left? I didn’t realise she was that poorly.”

“No, I left because of Madeleine and Liam- I didn’t realise either until I arrived. Come with me to my grans?” Leo nodded, Riley suggested this as she didn’t want to arrange meeting him somewhere that he wasn’t used to.

Walking to Riley’s grans, Leo’s heart sunk watching Riley fuss over her gran- she was selfless and attentive.

“So where are you wining and dining me Rhys?” Riley was used to Liam treating her to five star Michelin restaurants- she didn’t really appreciate the grand gestures as she was more of a greasy junk food type of girl.

“That is upto you... I’ll let you decide.”

“I know the place, come upstairs with me whilst I get ready- I don’t want you feeling awkward.” Leo covered his eyes as she got herself ready just to provide her with a bit of dignity. He was tempted to peek, but respected her more.

“Whatcha think?”

“You’re beautiful... Erm... I didn’t... I ... you look good Ri.”

“Why Leo, I’ve never seen you this flustered before. Are you okay? Come on....”

“So I know you don’t want to talk about him- but how are you feeling regarding him.”

“I’m still heartbroken, I cry myself to sleep every night- every time I close my eyes I see her smirk in my mind. I just need to move on- have a rebound, get over him.”

“I’ll make you a deal- we will help each other pull tonight, they both fucked us over- we both need to release.”

“Deal!”

After a meal, they headed over to a bar. Leo did his usual trick attempting to pull- it wasn’t working as he had expected it to. Riley sat the bar witnessing him failing - laughing to herself she felt sorry for him. Ordering them both another drink- Leo disappeared out of her view, smiling she had hoped that he had finally pulled. Someone tapped her on the shoulder.

“Hey beautiful, are you alone.”

“Yes. No. I’m with a friend.”

“Shame. Are you single? You know if you are I could change that?” Feeling his warm breath linger in her ear- her skin crawled.

“Sorry, I really need to go. Nice meeting you.” ‘Not’, she muttered.

“Don’t go, I haven’t got started yet!”

“Get your hands off me you creep!” Leo returned from the bathroom, seeing the commotion- witnessing Riley slap the man.

“Hey, are you okay? Hey mate get your hands off my girl.”

“She gave me the impression that she was single.”

“Not anymore.” Leo cupped her cheeks forcing a kiss on her lips- Riley knew it was for show so decided to go along with it hoping the creep would move into his next victim.

“You okay?” Pulling her towards him, he watched the man walk away- hoping he wouldn’t bother Riley again, as he would sure teach him a lesson in how to respect women.

“Just peachy Leo, thank you. Why do I always attract the bad eggs?” She laughed trying to make a joke out of the bad situation.

“At least you pull. How about we go back to my hotel room and raid the mini bar? No creeps involved.” Heading towards the exit, she turned around wondering why he was hesitating leaving.

“What are you still doing here? Come on Rhys.” Holding her hand out towards him, he eventually snapped out of his gaze- and led her to the hotel.

Arriving at the hotel room, they decided to play drinking games both becoming intoxicated far too quickly. Both laughing like the old days- they collapsed on the couch, she had missed Leo as well as Maxwell and Bertrand. Hoping that eventually she could return back to New York.

“We should have just stayed here- avoided you pulling creeps, avoided me becoming embarrassed at the lack of pulling.” Snuggling into him, she laughed- they were both useless.

“Do you ever think about what our futures would have been like if they didn’t cheat on us?” Leo looked at her, noticing that her smile had soon disappeared- seeing the tears fall down her cheeks, he caressed both cheeks.

“Well I’d have potentially been in prison for murdering her. I think you and Liam would have been married, had kids- I’d be the cool wind up merchant uncle.”

“The biggest wind up merchant. I’ve missed you Leo- you’re still one of my closest friends.”

“Likewise Brooks. Do you miss him? I don’t miss her one bit.”

“Of course I do. I’m just sexually frustrated as I still love him. I wish I could forgive and forget -but I can’t. If I did he would do it all over and over again. He would continue to make a mug out of me.”

Leo too was sexually frustrated, an idea popped into his head but he knew she would potentially slap him as she was in that kind of mood.

“He was an idiot letting you go. Please don’t slap me, but I have a suggestion. How about you and I... help each other... no strings attached. I’m here for a week or so...”

“Why would I slap you?”

“Because you may think that I’m using you- but you admitted that you are sexually frustrated as am I... we can just you know.” Riley always thought Leo was attractive- he was a Rhys after all. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the desire to just have sex that made her crash her lips onto him.

“Have you got a condom?” She asked breathlessly.

“Of course I do... just for precaution.”

Leo turned to face her, knowing he was now the one breaking the brother code- no matter how appalling Liam was towards her, he was still his brother- his brother who betrayed both him as well as her. Hesitantly pulling her towards him- he didn’t know what to expect as she was one of his closest friends. He believed that she was beautiful, there was no denying that. In the back of his mind, they were both each other’s rebound- no strings. But he didn’t care- if they could both make each other happy as friends with benefits- he was intending on doing it. Both their heartbeats increasing, they both closed the distance, matching baby blues containing desire. Their lips crashed onto each other’s as if their lives depended on it. His tongue slid across her cherry bud lips before entering inside her mouth, starting off gentle but soon turned demanding- their tongues battling against each other. Riley’s fingers ran through his hair - knowing it was just sex, she inhaled the familiar scent, it was as if she was sleeping with Liam again. Leo’s hands held her hips, pulling her closer to his muscled chest.

The kisses became more passionate as the time went by. Leading her over to the bed, they stripped each other’s clothes off eagerly- pausing to admire each other’s bodies. Falling backwards on to the bed she pulled him down towards her.

“ Are you sure about this Ri?”

“Yes. Stop teasing me Leo. We both need this.” Not sure if it was the alcohol that made her feel intoxicated, or the presence of someone with her- she didn’t care, she wanted him. All of him. Staring into her eyes, they pleaded with him, he nodded in response. Her heart began pounding as he stood up, placing the condom on before he forgot- licking her lips, he smirked rather than physically responding to her by speaking.

Gently cupping her cheeks as he hovered over her, he kissed her forehead. Guiding her hands above her head, he held them with one hand- whilst his other hand explored her body, circling her breasts- before kissing her hard.

“This is going to feel so strange, if you want me to stop just tell me.”

“Leo, just shut up and kiss me. It’s just sex remember. ”

Leo slid his hand between her legs- positioning his fingers and thumb at her entrance. The slightest touch, made her damp- Leo wasn’t expecting her to be like that. Kissing her neck, whilst working his thumb over her clit in a tantalising rhythm, she couldn’t contain her moans, hearing her scream him name made him want to skip pleasuring her and just get to the main part. All her muscles began to quiver- Leo smirked knowing he was showing how to treat a girl. Seeing her breathless already, he removed his fingers, replacing them with his tongue instead. Witnessing her eyes widen, he wondered how long it had been for her since she had this pleasure. Was Liam the last man to taste her?

“You taste so good, baby girl.” He said before plunging his tongue deeper inside. “Fuck!” Riley screamed, as she dug her nails into back- making the slightest mark. Removing his tongue, he placed his fingers there giving her that bit more pleasure- smiling at her as her whole body trembled.

Before she could recover from the actions he had performed on her, he rubbed against her entrance, before forcing his cock inside of her. Holding that position, their eyes fixated on each other. Slowly Leo began to thrust in and out at a steady speed, before increasing it- hitting her deeper. “You feel so good, Leo.”

His thrusts were powerful as their bodies collided in sync perfectly together. “This is just the start baby.” After a while his movements slowed down, as he released himself.

“Well that wasn’t as awkward as I thought it would be. Thanks Ri, you’re amazing you know that?” Riley opened her eyes, as Leo removed himself off her, laying at the side of her. Both staring vacant up at the ceiling. Holding his hand, she turned to face him. “No it wasn’t awkward at all. So what are we now? Fuck buddies” She laughed whilst snuggling into his embrace. Both breathless, they laid in silence- until Riley heard him take a deep breath.

“Come back to New York with me, it is your home. We all miss you. Maxwell and Bertrand especially.”

“Leo, I cant. Not whilst my gran is poorly. Maybe in the future. Thank you for tonight- I really needed it.”

“So did I. You’re amazing Ri. Best friends, friends with benefits. No strings.”

“Damn right Rhys.”

“So if you’re free tomorrow... how about you show me around your new stomping grounds?”

“Is that all you want to do?” Leo looked at her puzzled, with the seductive tone of voice she had provided.

“Yes. What do you take me for? You could show me around, then I’ll thank you by doing this...” Kissing her neck, she immediately felt turned on once again. He could see it in her eyes, rolling her on to him- they both gave each other that knowing look.

“Round two Miss Brooks?”

“We slept together for that whole week- she soon forgot about you. What are you going to do? Get rid of me too? You lost her. Get over it! I’ll pick Alice up at ten in the morning.”

“How could you do that to me?” Riley looked over at the two men, Leo looked smug- whilst Liam looked as if he was about to break down uncontrollably. Feeling her heart beat increase, she was intrigued as to what was included in their discussion.

“No strings attached my dear brother. She was single, as she was single when she slept with Drake. Don’t worry there wasn’t any feelings between us- it was just sex. If you love her you’d let her go Li. Just think about it. Oh and remember if she knew what you did to Drake, she would never forgive you. Maybe you should find him and make amends!”

*****

Liam stormed out of the club and made his way back to his penthouse- Madeleine was in her designer dressing gown. Pulling her up from the sofa, he pulled her into the bedroom. No strings attached, he thought.

******

Leo and Riley met Maxwell at Kismet, the friends kept drinking shots- all almost ready to pass out. Riley noticed that Leo’s gaze was fixated on the red head at the bar.

“Hey, Max. I think Leo likes her over there look.” Maxwell followed to where Riley’s finger was pointing. “He’s hypnotised, shall we play matchmaker?” Maxwell nodded, he was too drunk to function correctly- he needed to inform her about Drake. Waiting for the right opportunity, he knew if Leo copped off with the stranger he could talk to her in private.

“Hey, my name is Riley and this is my friend Maxwell.”

“Olivia.” Maxwell pulled the stranger and Riley into a group hug- the alcohol had gone straight to his head.

“Nice to meet you Olivia. Our friend over there the handsome blonde with the piercing blue eyes can’t take his eyes off you. Would you like to join us for a drink?” Olivia looked over, and saw Leo wink at her.

“He looks like a player. Not my type sorry.”

“He’s not a player. He’s a good shag.” Maxwell looked confused at the statement. How the fuck does Riley know? This woman is going to kill us if he’s a shit shag.

“And how would you know? Are you his ex or something?”

“No, I’m his brothers ex. But I slept with him for a week- no strings attached- so i know he’s a good shag. You won’t regret it. Give him a chance. I’ll pay you $20 to just talk to him.” Olivia smirked, grabbing the money she walked over to Leo- winking at his two wingmen, leo was grateful for their spontaneous matchmaking.

“We need words now Riley!”

“Max, I need more shots- I’m not leaving this bar until I have them. I’m missing Drake- how could he leave me?” Beginning to cry, she would regret this drunk breakdown over a man she hardly knew.

“So when did you and Leo sleep together?”

“In Florida, he came looking for me unlike you guys... sorry... it just happened. It meant nothing. The only person I’ve felt something towards left me.”

“I need to talk about that to you. We are going to Bertrand’s.”

“But I’ve just ordered these shots.”

“Drink up buttercup. Bertrand is expecting us.”

“What about Leo?” Both looking over towards the table, Leo had his tongue down Olivia’s throat- he wouldn’t care if his friends ditched him as he was most likely getting laid later that night.

“He’s fine with Olivia. Come on.”

*****

The cold air had hit the two friends walking from the cab towards Bertrand’s front door. Spying through the peep hole forgetting to knock on the door they both had giggles- not realising why Bertrand wasn’t answering.

“B... b.... let us innnn... pleasssee...”

“Bertrand... I need to wee. I’m going to do it ... on the door...”

“Don’t you dare... piss all over me Max. You’re disgusting....” Riley began banging on the door and pressing the buzzer frantically, as Maxwell whipped his cock out spraying all over the door.

“BERTRAND OPEN THIS FUCKING DOOR NOW!!! Why are we here again? How much have we had to drink? I think I’m going to be sick!” Riley placed her ear next to door, hoping to hear footsteps. The door suddenly opened- both Riley and Maxwell fell through it landing on the floor.

“Hey Riley, are your legs open like that on the pole.”

“Fuck off Beaumont, I don’t dance.”

“You would do if I was a certain tall dark handsome strangerrr...Who are you?”

Both looking up they saw a woman staring at the two of them with a perplexed expression.

“Can I help you? Where’s B?”

“I’m Savannah, let me help you both up.”

“Riley! Maxwell! Can neither of you contain yourselves?” Both biting their lips, attempting to hold their laughter in- they knew they were in the doghouse.

“Savannah darling, please make them a strong black coffee.” Riley and Maxwell both looked at each other- before bursting out laughing. Riley decided to mimic Bertrand’s voice, much to his annoyance.

“Savannah darling, could you add a bit of Irish whiskey in it. I need it after the day I’ve had. Fucking Liam. Thanks babe.”

“What’s he done?”

“Kissed me. I pushed him away. Fucking wanker. Karmas hit him though - hard. I’ll explain tomorrow. So are we having one big sleepover B? I think we will have to sleep naked though. Have you got a spare toothbrush? Toothpaste? Where are we all sleeping?”

“Arsehole...forget the sleepover essentials... we’ll just be dirty stop outs for the night... I forgot why we actually came here... oh yeah... Ri. Go in the spare room.”

“Why?”

“Erm, there’s a secret stash of booze.” Bertrand shot him a stern stare. “Sorry she wants booze what else could I say?” He whispered to his older brother who just shook his head.

“Why didn’t ya say so before?” Stumbling into the spare room, she opened the door- believing she was hallucinating.

“D-Drake?”

#theroyalromance #choices trr #trr au one temptation #drakewalker #riley brooks #maxwell beaumont #olivia nevrakis #liam rhys #bertrand beaumont #savannah walker #drake x riley #riley x liam #riley x leo

[vestigialtext]

Euphorroria

[TW suicide, self-harm] 

Imagine you turn around there’s suddenly a perfectly circular swirling hole open in the floor, emanating a hazy purple glow and a kind of pulsing, reverb-drenched celestial siren song, like the single sickest shoegaze riff you’ve ever heard.

You think, huh, wow, that’s a pretty weird trip-hazard, and erect some cordons to stop anyone falling in. But you become fixated on the hole, staring in unblinking for hours. It’s curious, it’s beautiful, it’s sonically enchanting, it’s perfumed with a kind of partially floral, partially cardomomic, partially metallic scent which just encroaches on the sickly-sweet – but you still want a taste.

The hole, as it happens, is a portal to insanity.

This is how I experience hypomania; standing steady-of-foot behind the barrier, gazing at wonder to the insanity, hearing its call but keeping a safe distance.

Mania would see me leap the barrier, approach too close, and invariably slip in screaming.

Psychosis, meanwhile, would see me fall in, try to either fight it or fuck it, turn it inside out and prolapse it back through into rational reality, the fabric of which world begin to collapse as internal and external landscapes collide and splinter into one and other and I approach self-oblivion.

A full psychotic break has only happened twice in my lifetime, and frankly I’m lucky to be here writing this drivel – my second episode, nearly a decade ago, almost killed me and left me with almost impossible-to-comprehend scars I’ll bear for the rest of my life, scars invisible to the observer but forever altering my perception of the world, scars I’ve made peace with but which continue to niggle every day. Without getting deep into the nightmarish details, I tried – and, thank fuck, failed – to blind myself, resulting in bilateral scarred corneas which mean that, while my vision remains entirely functional and luckily unimpaired to any significant degree, I experience constant, curious aberrations, especially in low-light where the world melts into a sea of halos.

Importantly, I’m still alive. I very nearly leapt into the Thames on the morning of 10/03/2010, and not through depressive, I-can’t-bear-to-live anguish, but due to chasing immensely powerful delusions and hallucinations to the same place that almost cost me my sight. There’s a lot I’ve written and lot I will write about my experiences of psychosis – particularly re the corrupted internal logic that catalysed much of my bizarre, life-ruining behaviour in 2003 and 2010 – but not here, not now.

Mania, the losing control of my inhibitions and tripping headfirst into hyperactive chaos, has occurred three times in my life, but only progressed through to psychosis twice. I had my first (and to date, only quickly-controlled) manic episode age 16, following a few months as an inpatient at an adolescent psychiatric in Newcastle (remember when the NHS used to offer those kind of services lol). Up until that point, I had been being treated for major depression, which was my diagnosis until the mania emerged. I don’t quite remember the specifics – I celebrated the 20th anniversary of my bipolar 1 diagnosis last month – but one day it seems the depressive fog suddenly cleared and my mind, robbed of feel-good shit for so long, lurched as far as it could in the opposite direction as some kind of bizarre compensatory push.

Perhaps the flip was inevitable, perhaps it was triggered by a chemical predisposition to mania plus guzzling down combinations of all the anti-depressant variants that could be feasibly prescribed for the preceding three months. Who can say. Whatever the case, suddenly I was bouncing around the hospital halls like Sonic the Hedgehog, talking borderline-gibberish garbage incessantly, getting back deep into abandoned A-level art projects and attempting to start roughly 1,000 extracurricular projects simultaneously. The doctors quickly took notice, brought me down with lithium and revised my diagnosis.

Hypomania, (literally “below mania”), is something I experience on average a few times a year, hitting in waves, usually with a clear trigger. It’s a glimpse at the maelstrom of insanity without actually dipping a toe. Delusional ideas can creep into my head, but I can analyse and dismiss them rationally with a firm “No.” I now have enough insight and experience of my own sensations and mood pattern recognition to usually ward off a manic episode, typically with self-seclusion and/or self-management, sometimes with medication. Zopiclone, a sedative, has proven to be something of a magic bullet at sniping down incoming mania, so I try to keep a stash handy – I popped one Saturday gone just to try and keep the train on the rails after barely sleeping for two weeks straight.

After accepting I was an alcoholic six years ago, I’ve gone entirely teetotal, and that itself has greatly improved my ability to monitor myself, to try and regulate my own mood – previously, I’d (technically binge)-drink more or less every single day, and drown out any troublesome hypomanic episode with even more booze, remaining entirely functional (if prone to starting each day with a big purging sick and then having a couple of practically clockwork spew breaks at work) until my liver and my nervous system started wildly red-flagging at the sheer relentless demands I was asking of them, the perpetual nature of my misguided self-medication, so I decided to stop dead drinking or risk further ruining my health.

Without in any way wishing to belittle or underestimate the impact of the disease (severe, bulk-of-a-year depression episodes have also nearly killed me) I feel like depression is something even people who don’t suffer from mental health problems can at least begin to comprehend, can take a stab at imagining the experience. Perhaps not the depths – the eroding, claustrophobic mental space, the glimmer of hope on the horizon disappearing into darkness, all sensory input turning to a grey mush, the head-in-a–tomb depersonalisation – but most people can relate to being “sad”, most people have experienced tragedy at some point in their lives. Hypomania, however, is a trickier prospect to explain. But I’ll try.

I can’t speak for others who experience the condition, but in my case, hypomania manifests itself across my whole physical, mental, emotional spectrum. Although other factors come into play, the biggest single trigger for me seems to be sleep deprivation. It’s no news that circadian rhythms and bipolar disorder are intrinsically interlinked, and I have very real first-hand experience. As a shiftworker (occasional nightshift worker) who lives on the opposite side of London to my office and has a four-month old daughter, my current sleep hygiene is pretty... ropey to say the least, so I’m trying to be extra vigilant. A few nights back-to-back of little sleep (I’m talking a hour or two, at the best of times my sleep is shit anyway and five hours is a good stint) I can often feel my mood changing gears.

Simply put, when I’m hypomanic, the world is a more engaging place; more detail fills the cracks, more edges pique my interest. All of my senses sharpen up – my vision becomes cleaner, brighter, more vivid, sound seemingly has additional frequency space, imperceptible before. My senses of smell and taste overwhelm me, aromas become intoxicating and normal food takes on gourmet qualities. My energy level skyrockets without any additional external input; I have much more impetus, enthusiasm about life, work, whatever. I can literally feel my mind starting to function differently – but not necessarily more efficiently – taking shortcuts, randomly accessing memories in remarkable detail without any prompt. I can think faster, but with less focus; I’m more distractible and will happily shoot off on wild tangents with complete disregard for my goal. Depending on circumstances at home or work, hypomania is a mixed bag – any lethargy is dispelled and my agency and job satisfaction is heightened, but I might, say, approach 20 tasks simultaneously when sequentially would be more rational.

Depending on social context, I expend varyingly extreme amounts of effort to varying degrees of success attempting to mask a hypomanic episode. You know how your body never really “heals”, and scurvy horrifyingly opens up old scars and shit? That’s kind of what my ever-simmering mental illness feels like when i’m consistently deprived of sleep for whatever reason, the cracks start appearing and it kinda seeps out a bit lol. I am well aware my hypomanic demeanour and delivery can alarm people, and I do try really, really, really hard to suppress things or if absolutely required, just remove myself from situations where a lasting, detrimental opinion could be formed. I am also fully aware I can become borderline intolerable to my long-suffering and remarkably patient wife, and I try to mitigate the condition’s impact on domesticity, again, only ever partially-successfully (sorry, Kate). On any given day, high, low, or creamy middle, I’d estimate around about 90% of my effort is put towards just trying to appear normal to others, trying to blend in. I imagine many other mentally ill people are broadly intolerant to open-plan hotdesking (not to mention the insatiable clock-in-and-hit-marks demands of capitalism).

I can physically feel my body “running hotter” when I’m hypomanic, like an overclocked CPU frazzling on a motherboard; headaches spark quickly if I don’t drink enough water. I’m not especially clued up on chemical synthesis of naturally-occurring hormones etc. but I kinda get the impression hypomania is little like organic, high-on-your-own-supply MDMA.

Hypomania seems to foster within me a deeper connection to and longing to revisit all of my favourite music, art, writing, films, games, people – chiefly, I go on obsessive listening binges of records I adore. As I mentioned earlier, my hearing changes when I’m hypomanic – songs sound better, richer, more punchy. One of my fondest ever memories of mental illness (sadly ruined by slipping into psychosis shortly afterwards) was walking around out at night listening to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on shitty earbuds via a Spotify stream and still hearing subtle elements blossoming from the mix I’d never clocked before; layers of what sounded like processed flutes fluttering under the wall of guitars, gentle tonal ebs and flows, what seemed to be entire hidden tracks I was only just tuning in to, a secret sound world unveiled.

This might well just be wild conjecture, but I like to think maybe some bands – the bands who “get it” – deliberately bury this audio information deep within the mix, only to be decoded by specific mental setups, be they drug-indicted or naturally, hormonally occurring, breadcrumb trails left in the studio production as a little nod by whoever put the music together that they understand the confusion, the dislocation and alienation of mental illness, something extra beyond the lyrics. It might well be bullshit but it brings me great comfort. I’ve put together a playlist of some favourite tunes I suspect were written about hypomanic states, knowingly or otherwise, or instead conjure up that specific vibe.

To be honest, the hardest thing I find about dealing with episodes of hypomania is that they can feel so good it’s very hard to not attempt to stoke the sensation, prolong it, succumb deeper to it. That way oblivion lies; please stand behind the yellow line at all times.

#hypomania #bipolar #mentalillness

[lovingsiriusoswald]

“Fragile, But Not Weak”

Part 7 - Her POV

Summary and Notes, Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight

Pairing: Fenrir Godspeed and Delinquent!Alice

Word count: 2710 words

Tagging: @christmaswarlock @midnightcradle @pianoperson @wishiwasfictionaltoo​ @plumpblueberry @bumbleberry-jamboree @forenah-gaijin @the-cashewpeia and @5-of-spades​ i’m so sorry this was a week late, i got into art a lil too much and i deadass forgot about this AAAAAA as usual, thanks again so much for the lovely comments you left on the previous one (´⌣`ʃƪ)♡

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ──── ⊰

I was offered a lovely room, its interiors astonishingly decorated by the single bright, beautiful flower growing amongst the smelly, messy army men. Seth had a big smile on his face as I took in the sight. "Seth! This room is so beautiful!"

"It is, isn't it? I put my all in making it perfect just for you~" He sings as he smiles brightly at me. He places my bags down by the closet and turns back at me. "After all, a woman's safe haven is her room! Its the only place where she'd be comfortable."

He then walked towards me and gently holds my hands. "I know its overwhelming to stay in a place filled with brute men, but I can assure you that you can come to me whenever you need help. I'm the Big Sis of this ruckus of an army, and I'd be more than glad to help you, Alice."

"Big..Sis?" I asked very softly, unsure of what he was talking about.

"Oh, please don't get the wrong idea, I'm a man through and through!"

"I'm sorry for taking it the wrong way." I apologize as I start to look away from him.

"Its alright, Alice." He puts his finger underneath my chin and gently pulls my face upwards. Our eyes were fixated on each other for a moment and I felt like I was being pulled in a trance. "Come on now, I'm pretty sure that you're starved! You need to eat as much as you can~" He starts dragging me out of the room.

When Seth opened the doors to the kitchen, I was astounded by the huge amount of food placed on the long dining table. There was so much food, my stomach started to growl and my mouth drooled . "Come on Alice! Its time to eat!" Godspeed calls me over.

"What's happening? Why is there so much food?" I ask as I walk towards him. He had the biggest grin on his face as Ray holds his shoulder.

"We're having a welcome party for you." Ray answers and gives me a soft smile.

"A party?" My mouth drops open. I blinked several times, Why would they throw a party for me?

"You're officially part of the Black Army now, Alice!" Godspeed puts his arm around me and ruffles my hair with his other hand.

"W-wait wait, hold on, I didn't say anything about taking a side in this war." I remove his hand from my shoulder and grip his wrist tightly. He winces a little and looks at me worriedly.

"You aren't taking any sides, Alice. Don't worry." Sirius's calm voice "Just because you're here doesn't mean you have to fight. We promised to protect you, like family." His smile grows as he says the last word.

Why are you so nice?

"Now, enough with this war talk! You said you were starving, let's eat!" Seth pulls me to a chair beside where Luka sat. Cheers erupted in the dining area and I scanned the faces of these soldiers. They vowed to protect and keep me safe, even if they don't know who I am.

It felt surreal and overwhelming, I'm not dreaming, right? Unbridled emotions swelled in my chest and for the first time, it wasn't from fear nor regret. What good have I done? Do I deserve this kindness?

"What's wrong, Alice?" Luka asks softly.

"Oh! Nothing! I was just.. overwhelmed." I quickly plaster a smile on my face when I turned to look at him. Hunger got the best of me so I didn´t waste another second and indulged the savory and aromatic meals in front of me. "This is so good!" I say through my full mouth, unable to hide my amazement.

"I'm so glad you like it." Luka smiles at me. The fatigue that I was feeling  seemed to dissipate at each bite, recharging my energy and I've never felt so content.

"Woah, you really have such an amazing smile!" Godspeed exclaims out of the blue, making me almost choke on my own breath.

"Excuse me, what?" A chuckle erupts from my throat as I look up at him. He was seated across from me and had a goofy grin on his face. "Where did that come from?"

"Please don't think I lied, it was an honest compliment." He winks. A loud laugh slips from his lips and it was infectious. I stopped myself from laughing, but I couldn't help but grin. How dare he use my card against me. "Did that get ya?" He smirks at me as he wipes off the stray sauce from his upper lip with his thumb.

"Off guard, yes. Romantically, try again next time." It was my turn to wink and smirk at him, then we laughed at each other.

"Alice," Seth calls and I turn to him. "If it's okay, we'd like to know more about you." He has a soft smile on his face as he eats a spoonful.

"Well," I start. "In the Land of Reason, I work at a confectionery because I really like sugary food." I chuckle. "So when I decided to reside here, I wanted to continue my career."

"Other than being the sweet confectionery girl, what else do you do here in Cradle?" Sirius asks.

"Um, well, mess around in disguise?" I shyly answered, feeling my cheeks burn. "B-but I only do so because some soldiers slack off during their patrols!"

"Hey!" The man I'd thrown eggs at two nights ago reacts. I sink further down in the chair, suddenly ashamed of myself. Without my mask, I felt so vulnerable. "We don't slack off!"

"Yeah, I'd love to talk to the lady you were hogging off at the market about your duty." My mouth spits out the words without me thinking. My hands immediately cover my mouth and I glance over at the man, his cheeks flushed and his mouth agape.

"Your reaction to her statement proved that she was telling the truth." Sirius looks over at the man who sat back down to his chair. "We'll talk later."

"I'm sorry." I whispered to no one.

"You're not yourself without your mask, huh?" I hear Godspeed say as he places his elbow by the table and leans his chin on it. He had a smug smile on his face, he watched me as I try to sit properly. I hate how you read through me that quick, dammit.

"I'm too exposed to do anything stupid, my image would be ruined." I pout and reach for a glass of water.

"Have you always been a delinquent?" He asks, his tone serious but a smile still apparent on his face.

"Well, I guess, but not to the extent that I've become a criminal whatsoever." I breathe in. "Me and my friends were characterized as chaotic good, meaning, we have good intentions, but we do it differently and usually in a not so good way." A smile creeps on my face as I remembered the good days when everything was okay. "We do have rules though; we only mess with people, not hurt them. We replace things, not steal them. We usually do these things if we see something that isn’t right, or if we just want to have fun.”

"So you throwing that egg was something that you thought you did for the good?" Ray chuckles.

"Yeah, I'd like to think so. It was a bit rude that someone started shooting me for it." I eye Godspeed, who raises an eyebrow at me.

"Hey, I didn't know why you did it and you insulted my men. It was on instinct!" He exclaims defensively.

"Sure, you gun-shooting maniac." Seth rolls his eyes and Godspeed frowns at him.

"You wanna go?" He rolls his sleeve and clenches his fist.

"That looks like fun." I smile through the fork on my lips and watch them bicker back and forth, resulting in an arm wrestling match in seconds. The soldiers started to cheer and take sides, betting on who would win.

"Winner gets to be with Alice for a day!" Godspeed chips and Seth smiles, his feminine demeanor vanishing.

"If that's the case, you won't last a second!" Seth rolls his sleeve and places his elbow on the table, right in front of him.

"Hey now, I'm not a prize." I stood from my seat. "..but I'd love to see how this would turn out." I walk near them and witness their fight.

"Who's side are you on?" Sirius asks.

"I'd like to say Godspeed, but Seth is the 10 of Spades for a reason." I say as I look up at the taller man. Ray was beside him, cheering on his best buddy.

"That's good thinking, little lady." He pats my head and we watch the two fight, Godspeed's arms were slightly leaning down, but he's fighting as strong as he can. Through gritted teeth, I could see their amusement and willpower.

"Hear that Fenrir? Alice is on my side, give up now!" I could see Seth flex his muscles harder, making Godspeed struggle.

"Not fair! Ahh dammit. Another win for Seth!" Godspeed admits his defeat as Seth pushes his arm down. He immediately skips towards me and holds my hands.

"We're going shopping tomorrow Alice, its coincidentally my day off! It must be fate~" He hugs me and I giggle, memories of my old friends resonate to my heart and it aches with joy. I've missed this feeling.

"That sounds lovely! I can't wait!"

"You seem like you're used to being around men, do you have brothers?" Sirius asks as we walk to the lounge.

"I don't. I have a sister though, but we have a lot of guy friends — most of my friends are, actually." I smile at him and put my arms underneath my chest.

"When did you learn how to fight?" Godspeed asks as he stretches the arm he used to wrestle with Seth. "You kicked those Magic Disciples' asses with your bare hands!"

"My friends taught me how to defend myself, there were a lot of similar encounters back in my world. Minus the magic, though." I plop down the sofa and Luka hands me a strawberry and cream cake slice.

"I hope its as good as your expectations." He smiles sweetly at me and my heart nearly felt like it was gonna burst.

The men of the Black Army weren't a ruckus as Kyle had described them as. They're super sweet and generous, hospitable and very fun to be with. I actually felt at home and it's only been two hours since I got here. Do I really deserve this? Or is something gonna take this feeling away the moment I start to relish in it?

I took a bite from the cake and felt the sweet delicacy, balanced with the strawberry flavors and creamy texture, exactly how I like my cakes. "Luka! This cake is amazing!" I can feel my smile growing wider as I kept on taking another bite, my sweet tooth craving for more of the treat.

"Aww Luka's all red and blushing!" Seth teases him and I see him look away from me with a pout on his face. For a moment, he really did look like the Queen of Hearts. He tries to say something but he stutters, deciding to leave us in the lounge and went to what I assume was the kitchen.

"Is he gonna be okay?" I ask as I place the plate down by the nearby table.

"Yeah, he usually doesn't like being around too many people. He'll come around." Godspeed says confidently, beaming up at me.

After a few more hours of eating, I excused myself to go outside to breathe for a moment.

A gust of cool wind flutters the ends of my dress a little, inviting me to bask in the afternoon light. I pondered on the sweet emotions that grew in my chest, feeling my cheeks hurt from constantly smiling so much. Times like this had been very rare — almost like a luxury — ever since the fire. I wonder if I can make this feel a little longer, Maybe I should take Kyle's advice.

"Need some company, lady?"

On second thought, nevermind.

"Not really, but I don't mind." I look up at Godspeed as he sits beside me on the stairs to the courtyard.

"Did ya drink your medicine?" A small smile grows on his face.

"Oh shoot, I forgot." I gasp and I immediately got up, but I was stopped when he grabs my arm. He shows my pill bottle and a bottle of water. "Aww thanks." I smile at him and reach for it, but as I was gonna grab for it, he pulls them away.

"But first — answer me something." His expression turns serious all of a sudden, startling me. "You're too comfortable around Seth and the others, wouldn't Kyle be mad if he found out?"

Wait, what?

"Ha..?" I could barely even form a proper reaction. What was he talking about?

"You and Kyle are together right? I won't consent you to cheating— " He says this with a straight face and it was almost laughable.

"WAIT ONE SECOND GODSPEED." I almost scream as laughter erupts from my throat. "Me? And Kyle? Together? What made you think of such a thing?" More laughter rose from my chest and I had to sit down to clutch on to my aching stomach.

"Wait what?" It was his turn to be confused now. "You two aren't together?" Something in his tone changed, but I ignored it. I kept laughing until there was no longer any sound coming out of my mouth.

"No! He's my doctor and I'm his patient. That's all there is." I wipe away the tears that leaked from my eyes. "Plus, neither of us are interested in having a love affair whatsoever." I start to calm down and take deep breaths to cool myself down.

"Ah geez, I got really worried about that." He chuckles and he finally gives me my medicine. I check its label to see if it was the correct one, before taking one pill out and tossing it into my mouth. I take a few gulps of water and close the bottle cap.

"That was something I never knew I would hear, you really are an idiot." I giggle as I hand Godspeed my pill bottle.

"Hey!" He pouts at me.

"It was a joke!" I reached my hand out to his head and started messing it terribly.

"Hey stop!" He holds both of my wrists, leaning close to my face with a dissatisfied look and I laughed in response. "What's that for, lady? Geez!" He lets go of one hand and desperately tried to fix his hair in vain.

"For messing with mine, dimwit." I pointed at the stray away locks on my head and stuck my tongue out at him. He rolls his eyes and pulls away, shoving the pill bottle in his inner jacket pocket and a grin was painted on his face. "Thanks for reminding me about that."

"No worries. I did promise to keep you well."

"Why are you guys so nice?" I asked hesitantly. The grin on my face almost felt natural again and I couldn't stop anymore.

"Well if it meant we could see you smile that brightly, we'd spoil you rotten with kindness." He chuckles as he watches the sun slowly start to set. The way his eyes shone against the last orange rays of the sun was just as enchanting as a magic crystal glimmering underneath the moonlight. He almost looked like he was glowing with the sun just by his side, outlining him like he was from a painting. His magenta hair swayed lightly against the wind and he looked amazing. There's no point in hiding how breathtakingly attractive he is — now I can see why the noble women that often visited the confectionery gush so much about him.

"We should head back inside, dinner will be ready soon and if you want the best meals, better be there early!" He then grabs my hand again and pulls me back, a fit of giggles erupting from me.

#fragile but not weak #fbnw soph #Fenrir Godspeed #ikerev fenrir #fenrir godspeed x mc #fenrir godspeed x delinquent! alice #fenrir godspeed x alice #fenrir godspeed x oc #ikemen revolution #ikerev #ikemen kakumei #ikerevo #fanfic #fanfiction #ikerev fanfiction #ikemen revolution fanfiction #ikemen series

[tarithenurse]

All is fair in Love & War - 18

Pairing: Loki x reader Content: Here be pining, fluff, angsting, relief, worry, the feeling of finally understanding something really obvious, and more relief. A/N: This is getting close to the end, depending on edits of the next part, then there will only be one or two chapters more. I’m very grateful for the support and love this story has gotten. Thank you! Oh, speaking of edits...proof reading while hungover might have been a bad move on my behalf, so pardon any errors still left.

18. Among wolves

The dull headache is one thing, but Loki’s limbs area heavy and unwilling to respond as he attempts to turn around in his bed. Or maybe the covers have gotten twisted, effectively restraining him? Some…thought…or maybe a memory is starting to squirm at the back of his mind, but it will have to wait. Groaning, he blinks to clear his eyes and investigate the situation.

“Brother?” There is a distance to Thor’s voice which throws the Jotun for a spin. “Loki, remain calm…alright brother?”

Calm? I am calm. The cerebral brain remains the same, but the vision clears which seems to fuel the insistent thought that urges him to move, to hurry. Why should I not be calm? He lost something, did he not? Getting his bearings, it occurs to Loki that this is not his own bed. There are no furs or silken sheets nestled within a wooden structure, but crisp white linen and a golden frame. Over the covers stretches thick, leather bands emblazoned with runes to imbue them with magic…magic meant to hold him in place if the physical bindings should fail.

There is no reason to struggle as it would only be in vain. “Thor…what is the meaning of this?”

“I am sorry,” the brother apologizes sheepishly from the other side of a magical barrier, “we did not know what else to do.”

Seconds pass silently while the brothers study each other. Why? Wreaking his memories, Loki can only recall walking from the stables with a plan in mind. What was I plotting? When the memory hits in the shape of the elusive thought, it takes away his breath along with any coherent thoughts…and still he cannot move. I have to get to Sjöblik in time to stop [Y/N].

“You have to release me,” he forces himself to talk evenly, “I need to get to her.”

“I cannot release you.”

Snarling, Loki is close to screaming at his brother. “Then get me someone who CAN!”

The broad bindings glow angrily until the captive relents with a sigh and relaxes into the soft mattress. Gaze fixed on the ceiling, he can hear the heavy footsteps of Thor recede followed by the distant clank of a door.

…

By the time Loki hears the door again, he has counted everything there is to count, read the runes about a dozen times, and designed his vengeance down to the smallest detail. They will regret holding me back like this. It is true that he had allowed himself to be talked into staying in Utgard from fear that any rash action would cause more damage. But preventing him from executing a carefully laid plan? Unforgivable. How did Thor even know?

Several people move in his periphery, safely on the other side of the magical wall, tempting him to turn his head. Thor, the lumbering oaf, has brought their parents. In a way it makes sense because Odin would have implemented strict rules to keep the embarrassing situation from the public, but seeing Frigga standing there with worry on her face and her hands clasped so tight before her chest that the knuckles are white…I am sorry, mother.

“Loki, I am sorry you had to regain consciousness to this…we did not know what else to do.”

The strain in Odin’s voice surprises his adoptive son, but he maintains a cool detachment. “May I suggest you begin with explaining why I was unconscious in the first place?”

“Your servants and I found you like that,” Thor’s begins, “we heard a…well I truly have no words to describe it! It was like a mixture of an explosion and a thousand people screaming. It came from the courtyard and when we arrived…I admit I was not the first, but…oh, brother! Everything was covered in ice. Dark, frozen spikes and-and shockwaves centered upon you as if…as if some force had hit you with the cold of a million winters, freezing anything in a circle around you!” The breath inhaled into the Thunder god’s lungs shakes with emotion. “No one could tell me what to do, so I called upon Heimdal…to take us here.”

My idiot brother is incapable of lying. Eliminating the most convoluted options, Loki is left with the assumption that the story is true. “So why subdue me like this?”

Frigga places a soft hand on the wall, causing the barrier to disintegrate and allowing her to step through to the weak protests of the men beside her. “My dear. We first feared you had been the victim of some form of attack, but as we searched for injuries you might have sustained, we found none.” Finally by the bed, she takes a seat on the edge, running the back of a few warm finger over Loki’s cheek. “You began to stir in your unconsciousness, showed distress…the infirmary became covered in ice too…”

“I caused it to happen…”

Turning his attention inwards, the god focuses on the part of his soul that is connected to the old powers of the Jötun, finding the Living Cold to be nearly depleted – something that only can happen by rapidly unleashing magic of enormous proportions. Already, it is replenishing, but there is no doubt it will take weeks before the powers will be restored.

“But why?” Soft grey eyes meet his blood-red with all the comfort and wisdom of a mother. “I…did something…? I felt…” Oh. “It felt as though my heart was torn from my body. Then I fell into darkness…”

“Loki, my dear.” Frigga sighs, looking to her husband and Thor for something. “Your bond with the mortal may be stronger than you think.”

…   READER’s PoV   …

If this is death…then why am I in pain? What first coherent thoughts go, it is not the worst, actually. It feels as though your shoulder is burning and moving your arm is like having white-hot pokers boring through. Deciding to stay as still as possible, you look around in the grey light of dawn, surprised to find yourself nowhere near the castle in Sjöblik…or for that matter near the city itself, it seems.

Dense firs and pines are standing so close that the needle-covered ground is almost completely dry beneath you, and it would not be a lie to say that at least one side of your body is being warmed considerably. Turning your head carefully to avoid upsetting the shoulder, the change of perspective brings a wall of mottled-grey fur into focus. Fur that moves as if it is still in use by its original owner. Breathing in sharply in fear fills your nose with the scent of dirt, dried and fresh needles…and a dog-like smell. Sweeping the gaze against the hairs, it passes the shoulders of a canine before coming to rest on the face of a wolf. Dark, amber eyes are watching every move you make.

You can feel your mind blank out, loosing touch with logic and abandoning any predetermined reactions that normal people might have in such a situation (though it probably is very few who haven woken up next to a wolf). Wolf. So far, not a wrong conclusion by your brain. Big. Also correct. Very, very big. Again, correct…but not helpful as such. Is Röskva and the other Vanir alright? See, that is where your brain fails to grasp the concept of prioritizing.

A quiet huff from the side that should not have a wolf assigned, makes you suspect that there is, in fact, another huge predator as if one would not have been bad enough. I survive falling several stories into a moat in the dead of winter…only to be rescued by the biggest wolves in creation?

“By the gods…this is just great.”

Talking out loud in this situation is another piece of evidence that your head must be damage somehow. Still, neither creature appears startled or upset about your comment, and you decide to risk a bit movement. Inch by inch, the good arm and hand begins a journey across the body until the fingertips can prod the injured shoulder, soliciting a hiss of discomfort. It also results in a soft whine from the wolf lying by your side, and an exploratory sniff by the newcomer (a wolf so dark brown it might have been black) which has taken a seat by your head. If I get to survive sitting up, then I need a way to fixate that arm or pop the joint back in place. Neither option is going to be easy, but at least you have a belt.

Repositioning the good arm, you brace yourself. Can’t lie here forever. With a grunt and a half-choked curse, it is possible to sit up although black dots are dancing before your eyes and it feels as though your arm has been torn off. The swaying motion steadies, making it possible to breathe a bit deeper. Then a gently yet very firm form presses against your back, nudging you to keep going. To stand. Afraid to piss off a wolf by refusing to do as it wants, you tug a leg under you the best you can, pulling the knee on the other to your chest. All the movement is making your entire body ache, but it is nothing compared to the agony of the dislocated shoulder.

A new nudge.

“Yes, yes…just give me a moment, huh? This isn’t as easy as it looks.” Hot breath fans your cheek, starting a shiver that run the length of your spine before it is stopped by a wet lick ending with a lot of wolf-drool in your ear. “Ah great, that’s really gonna help.”

As if understanding your words, the grey wolf wiggles itself underneath the good arm and then looks at you. Carefully you dig your shaking fingers through the course layer of the fur until you reach the soft undercoat. I’m being helped by wolves…yes…completely normal. But you nod to the creature, feeling it enhance your efforts to stand by pulling you forward before staying stock still as a means of maintaining balance.

“Well, uhm…thank you.”

…

Your first priority after strapping the arm to your chest had been to find water to clench an aching thirst but the wolves had other plans. Deciding it was better not to object to the wishes of creatures as big as ponies, you let them lead you away. North,  judging by the mosses and lichen growing on any available surface.

A swarm of thoughts is milling in your mind, each concern fighting for attention with no regard for progress on the previous’ behalf. By now, the murder of king Gorm and the queen must have been discovered which means that when the guards or court realizes that you are missing, they will blame it on you and subsequently the Vanir – people you have come to consider as friends and who now may be arrested and convicted for your actions. That was a risk all along. Knowing that does not make it easier. If only you had had time to warn them, to send them away.

Stumbling over a root, you reflexively reach for the nearest support. Fingers dig into rough fur, causing both you and the dark wolf to freeze. Don’t eat me. The air starts to hurt in your chest as you wait for something to happen while amber eyes roam your shape with an intelligence unmatched by most beasts. There is even something familiar about it…but what? The new ruminations are interrupted as the greyer of the giant creatures lays down before you, presenting its exposed back. Huh? As you try to sidestep, a deep rumbling erupts, causing every hair on your body to stand and silencing the few birds in the area.

“What do you want?”

It was not meant to sound as whiney as it came out, but you are still tired and hurting, and things generally stink which makes it hard to deal with the whims of abducting predators. Probably for that very reason, it takes several nudges and renewed growls before the trip can continue…with you on the back of one of them.

…   LOKI’s PoV   …

Left in solitude for a while, the king of Jotunheim is no further from desperation than before although everything has been explained to him. She fell. The nauseating sensation he felt while crossing Utgard’s courtyard must have been related to this, but Frigga cannot give any satisfying explanation why it is happening. To find out, [Y/N] must be present too.

That leads Loki’s thought to the next issue. Having had to retreat as a child to save his own hide, the trickster knows that speed is vital unless the blame can be shifted to someone else. The Vanir are making haste on horseback heading southward to prevent getting caught, which is a sensible solution all things considered, whereas the mortal guilty of the crime committed is on food, has no rations, carries no weapons, and only has support from Odin’s two wolves.

Geri and Freki. Perhaps it should be a consolation that they are with her as the beasts are more than capable of defending their charge from any dangers…but it is not enough. The animals had pulled her from the river that has been split to create the moat surrounding the castle in Sjöblik. Once safe on land, each wolf is most likely taken turn to warm and dry [Y/N] with their own body heat until she is able to leave the forest at its northern borders. But when? The old forests cover vast areas and are too dense for Heimdal to land the Bifrost safely. That is why they must wait for the odd trio to emerge from the woods.

No, the arrangements that have been made are the best possible under these circumstances, and Loki’s frustrations stem from the uselessness he feels. Waiting will be a challenge although it is something he always has excelled at.

…   READER’s PoV   …

“Crrrrrooooooaaaarrrr.”

The unexpected familiarity of the sound is enough to pull you from the edges of sleep and back to the moment at hand. Jerking upright sends a new flare of pain through your shoulder but also grants you the view of the dark wolf and an even darker creature now perched on its back. To make matters worse (or odder) the raven is holding on to something shiny with its claws. The tri-hook. Only a foot of the rope is still attached, torn and frayed at the end.

“Still not dead, sorry,” you manage to whisper through dried lips.

That doesn’t rule out that I’m going crazy. A bird has flown miles to bring a tool you had hated leaving behind, and you are riding on a wolf as big as the one in Odin’s cou–

Blinking at the mottled-grey creature, you finally recognize it and its brother for what they are. Loki had told you their names and how they, together with two ravens are the eyes and ears of the All-Father as he sends them out into the realms…or apparently to watch over stupid mortals as they take on risky missions. Your cheeks are hot with guilt as they stretch in a tired smile.

What are their names again? “Thank you. All of you.”

Relief is coursing through your tired and beaten body, making your head swim so you discover belatedly that the odd company has stopped. Looking around, you notice the forest itself is behind you. Before the wolves’ paws begins the open the plains of rolling hills and the occasional village of farmer-families. You even have time to admire the view of the first blue patches of sky in weeks before a torrent of light engulfs you.

…   LOKI’s PoV   …

They have let him out and Loki knows just from the smiles on Thor’s and Frigga’s faces what it means which is why he is wasting no time as he hurries along familiar halls with them in sharp pursuit.

Each minute feels like a year. Each step has been reduced to a thumb’s length.

But finally, he skids through the circular opening of Heimdal’s observatory in time to see an odd group of figures materialize before the Keeper and Odin.

The mortal woman is dirty and battered with an arm strapped awkwardly across the chest, each injury echoing through Loki’s limbs, but in this moment, she is an enchanting being taken directly from the sweetest dreams he has ever had. How perfectly she fits in his arm as he lifts her off her tired feet and cradles her in his lap without a care in the world that he has somehow sunk to the floor before the eyes of his family, Heimdal, and a few other guards. None of it matters. None of it matters because [Y/N] is near him again.

Loki refuses to let go of the frail human, insisting instead to carry her to the Healers’ Ward where Idunn tends to the injuries with skill. Only when the Asgardian goddess of longevity and health orders him to leave, to grant the mortal rest, does he do so…though with the promise of returning soon.

Outside the door, Frigga is waiting on a carved stone bench with a book in one hand. “I assume you have been told to give your love some peace to sleep?” she asks with a gentle smile.

“Yes.”

“My son…you always consider each action carefully…” Gone is the smile, replaced by the tender worry of a mother. “You know you will outlive her. Does she?”

“There is one way…but how can I ask her to abandon everything? She has a chance to return to Midgard and build a normal life. A safe life.”

The soft hand that takes Loki’s says more than any words can, and he enjoys the silent that lowers itself over them. This hallway is favoured with soft, warm colours enhancing the healing qualities of the sun streaming through the windows. A multitude of plants adds to the impression that it is indeed the Healing Ward which is housed here. Blindly staring at the rose and creamy yellows of the marble, Loki wishes it was this life he could grant [Y/N] rather than that of a cold keep and Jötun clans still opposing his rule.

“If you truly want her to chose, then you cannot hide anything from her, dear Loki.”

Reclaiming her hand, Frigga places a wooden box in her son’s lap. It is carefully decorated with various coloured stones, creating the liking of a fruit tree. Even the gold filigree clasp carries the same theme of leaves and apple blossoms.

The queen cups his cheek to make sure Loki listens carefully. “Whatever she chooses…respect it.”

...

#all is fair in love and war #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x you #Loki Laufeyson #loki odinson #loki marvel #loki from enemies to lovers #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki odinson x reader #loki series #loki semi au #loki medieval/fairytale au #loki angst #loki pining #loki soulmates #King Loki #Jotun Loki #jotunheim #Utgard #Midgard #Asgard #Valhalla #Vanaheim #thor #Thor Odinson #frigga #queen frigga #odin #freki and geri

[yasuda-yoshiya]

Hey there. Sorry to bother you. I read your write up on The House in Fata Morgana and I really love how you go into such detail on the second half, especially with The Maid. I agree with her being wasted potential, especially when Michel’s love is enough to erase centuries of psychological and emotional trauma and amnesia in the span of one minute. My question is, how would you handle the Maid’s arc while keeping the setup the same? This got long, sorry. But I have a lot of thoughts about her.

Aaahhh, it’s absolutely no bother at all; thank you for getting in touch! It’s great to hear from you, and I’m very grateful for the kind words about my incoherent babbling. Giselle/the Maid is honestly one of my absolute favourite fictional characters and it’s really hard to find any real discussion or meta around her within Fata’s tiny English-speaking fandom, so I’m always super excited to hear from other people who feel the same way about her!

Okay, this got really long so I’ll stick it under a cut:

I have actually put a lot of thought into how the Maid’s story could have been handled and resolved better (and even drafted elaborate AU fanfic about it, for that matter), so I’ll try and put some of that into words here. Prior to door 8, I honestly feel like the broad structure of the Maid’s arc as it exists ingame does actually hit most of the major emotional notes that it needs to; it just rushes through each of them so fast and gives them so little narrative weight that they’re not really able to have the impact that they should, especially when door 8 then goes on to completely ignore the whole thing. So for the most part, I’d lean more towards heavily fleshing out the existing content rather than making any real changes to the structure of the plot overall. Door 8 is the point where I feel that her writing completely falls apart and needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.

As for how exactly I’d want to flesh things out, the main thing I’d want to do is to heavily extend door 6 - both the backstory itself and the conflict between Michel and Giselle in the aftermath. As I think I said in that big old write-up, to me the whole door felt more like a quick checklist of events more than a real fleshed out narrative.The way I see it, Giselle’s character arc is fundamentally about her relentlessly trying to hold on to her optimism and the core of her “self” in the face of traumatic experiences - to not let her suffering take away her smile, her energy and positivity and upbeat personality, the things she saw as defining who she was before all of this happened to her. This is portrayed very well throughout door 5, where we see Giselle very consciously deciding multiple times to try and put her suffering behind her and start over from a clean slate with positive expectations - first when she’s sent to the mansion with Michel, then at the village with Amedee, and then again when she reunites with Michel - and it’s also very effectively conveyed that the effort of constantly keeping up that positive attitude and trying to block out the scars of her trauma puts a significant strain on her (one that Michel tries to ease by explicitly accepting her scars as a part of her and telling her that she doesn’t need to hide them from him).

What ends up breaking Giselle and forcing her to detach from herself entirely and become the Maid, then, is the feeling that she’s finally collapsed under that strain and “lost herself” to the point of being unrecognisable as Giselle, of having lost everything she used to define herself by. The fact that even “Michel” doesn’t recognise her any more, the fact that she herself is barely able to keep a hold on her memories of the past and who she used to be, her body becoming cold and lifeless and losing its old warmth and energy, and the weight of the years slowly wearing down her ability to stay positive and keep believing in a happy ending - all of those pressures end up breaking her self-confidence down to the point that she can’t manage to see herself as “Giselle” any more, and the burden of even trying to keep being “Giselle” becomes too much.

In that state of mind, it’s no surprise that the alternate story that Morgana tells her - that the Maid was always just a lonely witch haunting the mansion, an impostor who became fascinated by the real Giselle and Michel, and deluded herself into believing that their story was hers - becomes so much easier to believe in. Of course she’s failing so hard at being “Giselle”, because she never was Giselle to begin with. Accepting this narrative allows her to detach herself from the weight of having to try to be Giselle, and to project those feelings and ideals from a distance on to the White-Haired Girl instead, who is everything the Maid thinks “Giselle” should be. Note the Maid’s fixation throughout the stories on the WHG’s “purity” and her unchanging nature that stays constant across all times - the qualities that she feels she herself has lost. Of course, Giselle is also very much still subconsciously projecting her own lingering feelings for Michel on to the WHG as well, as she assigns WHG the role of her “master” and “the person she waits for” - but in a context that allows her to safely detach herself as a guide, watching over the real Giselle and feeling pity for her suffering. It puts her in a position where she can be the one to reassure someone else that it’s okay for them to give up, to forget about waiting for Michel and find whatever happiness they can for themselves - without having to shoulder the shame of making that decision herself. The things she can’t accept about herself as “Giselle” become acceptable if she takes the outside role of a witch. As Fata repeatedly puts forth, tragedy becomes a lot more bearable if you think of it as “someone else’s”.

Okay, I basically just wrote three paragraphs of meta here and I’m still not much closer to actually answering your question, so it’s about time I looped back to the point. Everything I’ve outlined above is the basic outline of what I feel is intended to come across through the Maid’s arc. Now let’s talk about where I feel that door 6 fails at actually making that arc really hit home as strongly as it could have. I think the essence of the problem, at least to me, is that door 6 does a perfectly good job of laying out a very believable sequence of events that lead Giselle to become the Maid, but it doesn’t really do such a great job at portraying Giselle’s reactions in any real depth. The narration doesn’t really bring to life the feeling of someone fiercely struggling with themselves to stay positive in the same way that door 5 does, and the process of Giselle’s desperate attempts to keep hold of herself being slowly being worn down over the years gets skipped through so quickly that it’s hard to really feel the weight of it from her perspective. Just going more into depth with Giselle’s internal thought processes here, showing more of her individual reactions to the events of the first three doors and things like her frantic attempts to rationalise it as maybe being okay that the WHG doesn’t recognise her, showing the strain it puts on her to have to keep trying to find ways to frame her story in a more hopeful and positive way until she finally just can’t do it any more, would really help make the door feel like more of a complete experience.

Again, though, as I said in my old write-up, I do think a lot of what is there in door 6 is really strong and effective - a lot of the individual scenes do genuinely feel really powerful in their own right - but there’s just not quite enough there to make the whole thing really hold together as a fully realised narrative. (To put it another way, when you have even a weird side character like Yukimasa getting such a slow, thorough and nuanced exploration of his gradual descent into madness, but your main heroine’s central identity conflict and breakdown of her sense of self is rushed through in about half an hour, something has gone terribly wrong.)

The other problem that I have with door 6 - and this might be more of a personal thing - is the point it chooses to end at. The pivotal moment where Giselle actually finally chooses to disown her old identity and accept Morgana’s story as the truth goes by so quickly that you could almost miss it, and then after that the door is pretty much over, short timeskip to the end of Jacopo’s era aside. Considering how much emphasis the earlygame puts on the Maid’s preoccupation with stories, and how important the story of door 4 is to her in particular, I always felt more than a little disappointed by how little time is given to Giselle’s internal reaction to Morgana’s story when she hears it, or to how she processes it and sorts out her feelings about it afterwards; how she uses it as a way to reframe her own story in a way that’s more manageable to her, and how it hurts to let go of it. Even the most basic point of the Maid passing her old identity on to the WHG isn’t actually touched on by the text of door 6 at all. It just really feels like a lot of wasted potential, since the Maid’s relationship with the narrative of door 4 is probably the single most interesting part of the character to me, and I think it could easily have been elaborated on a lot more here in a way that would make the arc as a whole much stronger. (Although now that I think about it, I think I might have pretty much made a lot these points already in my old write-up, so I might just be repeating myself now? Whoops? It’s been a while, sorry!)

So that pretty much covers my feelings on what I would have liked to see from the Maid’s backstory. Now I can move on to talk about how I’d want to handle the resolution, which was probably the main point of your question to begin with! I think the biggest problem with the Maid’s turnaround as it stands is that it feels so easy, with very little real struggle or conflict - as you said, it really does feel like all of Giselle’s issues as the Maid are just flat-out “erased” in a matter of minutes, and she just reverts back to her old self entirely. And that feels incredibly wrong to me, because it seems to basically uncritically validate Giselle’s ideal of herself as someone who can hold on to her cheerful attitude and just block out her suffering entirely as if it never happened - which feels totally at odds with the the rest of her narrative up to that point stressing how much of a burden she placed on herself with that unrealistic expectation and how trying to live up to that impossible ideal ended up tearing her apart completely.

I think it would have worked a lot better to instead put the focus on Giselle’s resolution on challenging that ideal for herself, and letting her realise that she doesn’t have to be that ideal unchanging person she wants “Giselle” to be - that even if she has changed, she’s still Giselle, and still the same person Michel loved (Requiem’s epilogue briefly touches on this idea too). To accept the Maid as something that came from her, that’s a part of her, and that she doesn’t have to be ashamed of or make into an entirely different person to accept. The Maid believed that she’d lost her humanity entirely and become unrecognisable as herself, but when it came down to it, Michel did still recognise her, and still sees the person he loved in her. And some part of Giselle evidently still recognised and reached out to Michel as the person she had really been waiting for, too, even after she’d supposedly rewritten her story entirely to put the WHG in that role. The way her suffering ended up shaping her into someone like the Maid doesn’t make her inhuman; the ways she’s reacted to her suffering by trying to change into someone else are themselves human and relatable, they’re understandable and okay reactions for Giselle to have had in her situation, and the Maid is still someone Michel is perfectly capable of deeply empathising with and feeling love for.

Because in the end, the heart of Michel’s love for Giselle wasn’t ever really dependent on her always staying a bright and cheerful person who never stops smiling and always stays positive and never gives into despair; it was a relationship between two deeply wounded people who connected with each other through their shared experience of suffering. In blocking out and trying to forget the painful aspects of her past, in replacing them with a gently beautiful fairytale of a tragic love between two totally pure and selfless people, Giselle ended up losing what was really important about their relationship - that neither of them had ever been perfect, that they’d both been irreparably hurt by their trauma, but they still loved and understood and accepted each other, scars and all. Her remembering Michel as such a perfectly pure and flawless person is very sweet in its way, but it actually ended up turning her memory of him into someone so perfect that she couldn’t possibly live up to him or keep believing that he’d love someone like her - as is a running theme in Fata, blocking out the pain of their past ended up also blocking out the real significance of the connection they’d managed to make with each other through that pain.

So, approaching the end of door 6 and the Maid’s final resolution through that lens, I think I would put a lot more emphasis on Michel getting through to Giselle by his understanding and acceptance of what she’s been through and how it’s changed her, and by his own simple empathy with her and love for her as a fellow flawed and scarred human being. I think I’d also want to make that process of him getting through to her and coming to understand her a lot more difficult and painful than it came across in canon - I think a lot of things about the Maid’s attitude should have been difficult for him to understand and come to terms with for a while, especially when it comes to her wanting to cling on to her own story and push a false identity on to him instead of confronting the truth, which would hit a particularly bad spot for Michel at first. For example, with those small breakpoint scenes midway through door 5 where Michel and the Maid are reacting to the retelling of their memories, I’d want to have the Maid be a lot more fierce and persistent at first about denying that these really are her true memories, and denying the idea that the Giselle she sees in door 5 could ever possibly have been her - I’d want to see her trying a bit harder to defend the protective narrative she’s built up for herself in the face of Michel’s brutal attacks on it, and Michel maybe initially lashing out in frustration at that, until he slowly comes to recognise the basic emotions behind her actions as essentially sympathetic and familiar from his own experience of severe isolation, recalling how it had made him want to shut his heart off in much the same way.

Michel having to accept his own responsibility in leaving Giselle alone to deal with all this in the first place - for underestimating just how much she needed him - is also something that’s going to be difficult for both of them to deal with, but it’s something that I think they needed to more explicitly acknowledge and work through with each other because it’s important in the sense of Giselle being able to remember that Michel is a flawed and imperfect person too. (The Michel in door 4 explicitly did make the choice to die together with Giselle instead of leaving her alone, again reinforcing Giselle’s inaccurate memory of him as someone pure and perfect.) The Maid’s issues with her repressed resentment for Michel and with her own self-image are obviously very deep-seated to an extent that actually fully “resolving” them in just one conversation with Michel isn’t at all realistic, but I do feel that the process of actually having to talk things through with the real Michel would start to remind her of what their connection actually felt like after all those years of turning it into an abstract archetypal love story, and of how Michel was always someone she loved for being an approachably flawed and awkward person rather than any kind of perfect ideal - and to start to believe that maybe it’s okay for her to be flawed too, that her flaws could still be a part of her humanity and part of “Giselle” rather than something that makes her inhuman. As has always been the case with these two, humanising each other helps them to humanise themselves. Dealing with everything that’s happened is inevitably still going to be a difficult process for both of them, but I think Fata could have believably gotten them to a point where they’re at least starting down the right path without just lazily erasing Giselle’s issues and brushing the whole thing off. It’s a difficult balance to strike, but I do feel that Fata manages that delicate balance in other places and could have done so here, if a bit more care had been put into the writing.

From there, I’d keep the flow of the story as it stands - Michel and Giselle try to leave the mansion, Morgana stops them, and Salvage and Door 7 proceed as before. So the next thing to talk about here is Door 8. As it stands, the portrayal of Michel and Giselle’s relationship in door 8 is basically all about Michel gradually breaking out of his shell with Giselle’s support; as I think I said in that old write-up, I think it would have been much more effective if the focus was instead on the two of them supporting each other to start to break out of their respective periods of isolation and reclaim themselves as human beings who are still capable of living in the world and connecting with other people. Rather than Michel and Giselle’s dynamic just reverting to how it was in door 5, I would have liked door 8 to have them starting to develop a new dynamic to reflect how Giselle has changed, and to present her having to learn how to act like a “real person” again as more of a difficult and gradual process. Giselle really has irreversibly changed in many ways, but she’s also far from actually being unrecognisable, and I think the basic idea of her starting to naturally take on some of her old mannerisms again as she talks to Michel could have been genuinely sweet and touching if it felt a bit morenuanced and earned in its execution - starting to reclaim her identity as a human rather than a witch, as someone who’s still capable of feeling human emotions and having human connections, in the same way that Michel is gradually brought out of his shell by the events of door 8 and starts to be able to believe in himself once again as a person who’s capable of living in the world without being rejected or treated as an outcast. I think my ideal version of door 8 would focus a lot more on Michel and Giselle helping each other through that process.

Well, if I permit myself to indulge in full-on wish fulfillment here, my real ideal scenario would honestly be for Giselle to actually be physically there in door 8 and have her and Michel working together to save Morgana, with both of them getting to interact with the other characters and play an equal part as co-protagonists in the truest sense - but honestly, even without radically revising the structure and just keeping Giselle as a voice in Michel’s head, I think she could still have easily been given much more of her own personal arc within door 8 rather than just serving as an extension of Michel’s. One thing that’s really potentially interesting to me about door 8 is Giselle having to come face-to-face once again with the people from doors 1-3 who she had so strongly detached herself from and treated as supporting characters in the WHG’s story, to be picked apart from a distance as tragically flawed protagonists. I feel like the Maid was pretty clearly projecting a lot of her own feelings on to these people’s stories, using them to explore her own issues in a way that felt safer by framing them as “someone else’s problem” - so how does she feel seeing these people again, now that she’s self-aware enough to realise what she was doing? I think there’s a lot of interesting material to explore there.

With Yukimasa’s story, for example - before, as the Maid, she wouldn’t have been capable of articulating that her complex feelings about Yukimasa’s narrative and her wish for him to find happiness as Bestia were projections of the way she felt about herself and the way she also tried to find comfort in her own dehumanisation through a false narrative, because owning those feelings for herself would have meant acknowledging the fragility of her own coping mechanisms. But now that she’s started to come to terms with who she really is, I could see her having a lot of difficult and insecure reactions to seeing Yukimasa again, and having his story bring back Giselle’s own deep-seated fears that she’s fundamentally “not human” and deluding herself about her humanity in the same way that Bestia was. Of course, Michel would be there to help her talk through those feelings and remind her why that isn’t true - even as the Maid, she was still very recognisably human at heart - but I think that Giselle actually getting to talk those things out with Michel would go a long way toward giving proper narrative weight to her struggles and making it clear that the deep fears and insecurities she felt as the Maid aren’t just going to magically go away, the way they pretty much seemed to in canon. In the same vein, there’s plenty to explore with things like the Maid’s fixation on the theme of childhood innocence being inevitably lost with Mell and Nellie’s story, and her identification with Jacopo as someone who also tried to kill off his old self completely.

I think it would have helped tie the game together a lot better to have Giselle’s own resolution running parallel with that of the three men in this way, that seeing them being able to reach a more positive conclusion would help her to feel a bit less hopeless about her own story as well - as well as to start to see herself as her own person again, whose story doesn’t have to mirror theirs in the first place. In my ideal version of door 8, I kind of see working through their resolutions as a process of letting Giselle free herself from defining herself by these stories and from the story of the mansion’s curse as a whole, to be able to start to see herself and those around her as real people with real agency rather than as actors in a doomed, unavoidable tragedy.

But I also feel like this scenario has all kinds of potential in terms of allowing Giselle to maybe be able to reframe some aspects of “how she’s changed” in a more positive way, and to see some of the Maid’s characteristics as genuine strengths that she can draw on as well - the ability to emotionally detach from a situation and critically evaluate people and their relationships from afar can be legitimately useful in some situations too, you know? So I’d really like to have seen the Maid’s worldweary cynicism and piercing insight into people’s flaws get to be played as a strength at times, as an important complement to Michel’s lack of experience and knowledge about the world and people, rather than just a shameful phase that she has to move on from. (I think I’d definitely have liked that dynamic a lot more than the “Aww, Mell is like our best friend! We can definitelytrust him!” nonsense that canon pulled, which was just ridiculous. The Maid was absolutely brutal about Mell! Who is this person?!)

One part I really liked from the actual door 8 (and wished had been given more weight and expanded on a lot more) was Giselle saying after Mell and Nellie’s resolution that she felt bad for how she’d treated them as the Maid, sneering condescendingly at their flaws - but Michel responds that her story cutting right to the heart of their problems in that way actually helped him to fully understand them as people and how to help them, and that he couldn’t have done it without her. Making that into more of a fleshed-out arc about helping Giselle to reclaim some of the Maid’s attributes as something positive, not something she has to run away from, would have been a really satisfying resolution to me - there are absolutely real problems with dehumanising people and arranging people’s lives into a neat narrative, but there are also times that being able to detach and get that kind of overarching perspective can actually really help, if it’s done in a more balanced and self-aware way. I think going deeper into exploring this would have really done a lot to integrate Giselle and the Maid, and to tie together Fata’s whole themes as a story about people’s relationships with narrative in general.

Also, I would have really liked to see Giselle involved with the WHG’s resolution too! She spent 400 years obsessing over the WHG and defining herself in terms of the WHG’s story, after all, so I think it only seems fair to give her some closure on that and to let her play her own part in putting her to rest. Michel, Giselle and Morgana’s narratives are all connected together by each of their relationships with the WHG and their respective struggles with the pressure of the ideals she represents, so I think it would bring the whole game together nicely for the three of them to get to let go of her together.

So, I think that’s pretty much the outline of what I would have liked to see from Giselle’s arc in Fata! I hope this all made sense since I am kind of half braindead at the moment, ahaha. I would really love to hear your own thoughts about her too, though, so please don’t hesitate to share them if you can! I’d be super interested to hear your take on the character!

#the house in fata morgana

[panharmonium]

tag thing

rules: answer these ten questions and tag ten people i never do that sorry

tagged by: @padmerrie - i’ve never been tagged in anything shipping-oriented before, because everyone who knows me knows i typically don’t care for romance X)  but anything padmerrie tags me in i’ll do!

tagging: if they feel like it - @brambleberrycottage!  but tumblr doesn’t let me tag you for some reason, sorry!

ultimate otp: dick grayson and barbara gordon.  they’re the only pairing i actually use the tag “otp” for.  dick and babs isn’t like - an “option” for me.  they’re just - reality.  that’s how it is.  there isn’t another outcome.  that’s the way it is.

a ship you’ll always love: wilson and amber from house.  amber was the first time i started to love the lydias of this world.

current obsession: hmm...i don’t really obsess over romance stuff for the most part.  i’m more of a friendship fiend.  

a ship you never thought you’d like: ummmm.....i hated scott and allison together for two whole seasons of teen wolf.  this coincided with me hating allison herself for two whole seasons of teen wolf (which caused me some internal distress because i generally try extra hard to find something to like about every female character in things i consume.)  i started to like allison a lot in season 3, and i have since come around and remembered how young 16/17 is and how it feels when you first like somebody like that and i think they’re lovely now.

a ship you liked but don’t like anymore: hm.  maybe eric and donna from That 70′s Show?  they were really cute at the beginning of the show and i liked that dynamic of them being friends from childhood and really loving each other, but as the show goes on donna just keeps giving up more and more pieces of herself to maintain a relationship that isn’t even fulfilling for her; her dreams and goals keep dying one by one, and watching that happen was way more painful than a sitcom is ever supposed to be for me because it’s one of my own biggest fears.  she deserved better.

(“better,” for the record, does not mean RANDY.  lord.  what even was that season.)

a ship you think should be canon: .....katara and zuko.  i would have been happy enough for avatar to end with nobody getting together - like, i don’t feel like this ship had to actually happen in canon for me to be happy; i actually think the point where the show ended was too early for them to start a relationship like that - but what actually ended up happening in canon was definitely.....not good.

a canon ship you hate: remus and tonks.  with a vitriol that cannot be put into words.

none of which is directed at tonks personally; i like her character quite a bit.  and i don’t have a competing ship for remus to feel threatened about.  i just hate it.  vehemently.  i have a very vivid memory of reading half blood prince in my bedroom as a teenager and getting to the point where that was revealed and actually closing the book and dropping it on the floor next to my bed in despair.  

a ship you’ve been shipping for years:  apart from the ones here?  all the canon animorphs ships, i suppose; oh those children, i love them.  and i’ve been stanning george and angelina ever since we got that piece of information - like, you do remember that we all had to actually read the Epilogue and wade through that morass and accept the utter absurdity of “Albus Severus Potter” - yet somehow george/angelina is the thing people want to fixate their hate on?  aha no.  i am in their corner for good.  

a ship everyone loves but you don’t care about: all of them lol.  

i mean, okay, i’m joking, but only sort of.  i get...tired, of ‘shipping’ culture or whatever that is - whatever the thing is where people say ‘they looked at each other for half a second they are SO DATING’ or like the snarky ‘yeah you know they’re obviously just friends, don’t you know you always just casually throw away everything you have to save your friend’s life?’, the implication being that they’re obviously in love because no two friends would be so devoted to each other, which is an argument i particularly despise, because YIKES!  really?  friendship isn’t like....the next tier down from romance.  romance isn’t the top of the ‘what would i do for you’ pyramid.  it is, in fact, completely possible that you would fight just as hard for a friend as you would for a romantic interest.  the implication that this isn’t the case is...bizarre, and icky, and also almost universally accepted, which is why powerful friendships get shunted out of the spotlight in favor of romance every freaking time, despite how little sense it makes for the story.

(it’s also the reason season 3 of teen wolf fulfilled my lifelong dream....the dream of not having that happen......there was this very specific moment where i realized....finally......that it was happening.....years of waiting......and finally, praise all that is holy, for once in my life, i was gifted the thing i desperately wanted and did not expect and that is just one of many reasons why teen wolf earned my trust)

but anyway, to specifically answer the question: 

a ship everyone loves but you don’t care about hate: any of the teen wolf ships where people actually and inexplicably think a person in their mid-twenties would or should be attracted to a sixteen year old high school student, up to and including You Know Which.

you heard me.  come for my fucking throat i do not even care.

favourite rarepair: oh man....kurt wagner and jimaine (amanda) szardos!  the rarest of rarepairs; damnnn it’s been a long time....last time i read an x-men comic, amanda was stuck watching over the realm of Limbo and not able to really...interact with the rest of the world.  that was like fifteen years ago, though, so.  hmm.  i wonder where she’s at nowadays.

#meme #....now i'm like 'i should look up amanda and see what's she been doing' #but the smarter part of me knows i shouldn't #just don't do that to yourself #it's x-men #you KNOW it's going to be bad #don't look #.....i still might though idk #X)

[notefromjenny]

11/04/2021

Note from Jenny - 6 years of disconnect.

I don't know how to start this, so I thought I'd start with how I got to the decision to write this in the first place.

It was March 14th 2021 and I locked the backdoor of my house in Wallsend with my facemask ready. Satisfied that my home was secure I ran around the front of the house, crossed the path to my front door and exited the garden gate to the street in front of me. Adrian pulled up in his car and I hopped inside ready to depart. It had been 370 days since I last seen my mother in person and I was very much looking forward to finally embracing her again after so long.

As adrian drove through newcastle, it had been more than a year since I had been into town properly but surprisingly it wasn't the most recent memories that came to my mind but the ones from long before then that flittered through my head.

Although I had not seen my mother for over a year I had not lived in Prudhoe for over 4. Even during the last year of living in prudhoe it had been at a push 2 years since I had truely been around the local area. It dawned on me that the memories that felt so recent in my head infact were from long ago. I wasn't a teenager anymore, not even a young adult, I had grown up, and that thought was very scary.

The juxtaposition bounced around in my head as the little car Adrien drove passed Prudhoe castle and turned onto castle road, a road I had walked many many times before with many other people. People who are now strangers to me. How did that happen? I asked myself as if I was expecting an answer. 

4 hours later my mother, Adrian and I returned to my old home, a place I was surprised did not resemble my memories at all. I retraced the stairwell upto the landing as I had thousands of times before and walked into a room with completly white walls, a tall brown wardrobe and a double bed with white sheets. My childhood bedroom was erased.

I was utterly caught of guard at the sadness I felt by gazing over this blank canvas. I think what I wasn't prepared to experience was the loss of a symbol. That room once symbolized all the joy and companionship of all who I had invited into my world, a world changed by time. I couldn't help but settle on the notion that with the decease of this symbol so too was the door to my world, a once shared connection, ended. 

I think we all have a defining moment like these, where you look at a picture of a younger self and then hold the mirror and realise the two arn't alike any more. Whether good or bad is not for me to say, but true none the less. Am I unhappy? No. I am the most me I have ever been. I'm the healthiest and happiest I have ever been. Cutting away the past allowed me to ascend into the person I needed to be. But staring into the mirror I recognise a part of my life I never meant to leave behind.

Shouting down the stairs, I ask to know what happened to all my things? I did not leave the room the way it is now. Following keen direction I come across a pile of my old things: old sketchbooks, school notes, cds, dvds, an xbox, trash, so much trash and curiously, an extrernal harddrive. For a moment I consider leaving it all, putting a lid on the bottle of nostalgia and marching on in my easily distracted life. But a part of me has been reminded of a version of myself that i want know better.

For a long time now I have avoided the past. For my entire life I have struggled with finding my place in the world. Untill I met my fiance I truely felt alone and confused and for the first 2 to 3 years of my relationship with her there was a part of me that worried I wasn't capable of being a significant other.

The hardest year in my relationship was my 3rd year with her, we lived in North Shields in an upstairs flat we did not choose. There was a myriad of personal challenges we both went through that year but I am so glad life ran it's course as it did, because for the first time in my life I went to the doctors about my mental and social challenges. 

I did not get a clear answer untill I moved into my current house and after 15 months of referrals and during the beginning of 2020's first lockdown I received the the first of two interviews with a psychologist. 

My mother had told me my whole life not to label myself, but in all honesty the fact I could finally put myself in a box, knowing that there are others out there that thought and struggled like me was liberating. I wish I had known sooner that I'm autistic.

What I learned amongst other things about myself is that my biggest weakness was also my strength. People with autism often experience what is called an "autistic fixation". There is no rhyme or reason to a fixation and it is incredibly difficult or impossible for a fixated person to deviate from their focus. I can spend days or even months chasing a fixation. It can be as mundane as a tv show, or as complicated as business operations, math or science. 

During that worst year of my relationship my partner was suffering from various trauma regarding her mental health. For 6 months I barely recognized this, because I was fixated on illustrating pictures. It's hard for me to think about this because I remember been genuinely clueless and yet in hindsight I feel the worst person ever.

I used to think people with autism were selfish, that it was in there nature to be self centred, but I realise now that it's not their fault, it's not even a choice.

What does this have to do with you? Why bother tell you any of this? 

I remember our friendship, stronger in my mind recently because of walking down memory lane. I still think about all of our adventures and that as a young autistic boy, ignorant to his own self, isolated from the world behind a barrier of misunderstandings, that you made me feel like I could be myself. That it was okay to be different, that I'm allowed to  be different. You made me feel accepted and gave me a place to open up.

I remember the end of our contact with one another. I remember you reaching out to me and I got the impression you were struggling, I remember being so overwhelmed by my own challenges that I barely responded to you when I thought you truely needed me. 

I could be mistaken, I could be misinterpreting my memories, but I feel guilt. If what I recall is correct, I feel like I abandoned you. Abandoned you because I got lost down a fixation. I feel frustrated because I remember feeling in my gut that you were reaching out to me for a crutch, some support, the kind of support you had given to me and I stood you up. I hate that we lost touch. I believe it is my fault and I hate that I let it happen.

I don't know what you were going through, I don't know what you've went through since. I hope you are okay, that like me you've learnt more about yourself, that there is parts of you that you can't control but despite that you know that the sun can still shine. 

I want to say if my actions, or lack of, caused you any suffering I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I let you down, that I took your support and didn't return it. I can only imagine, if what I remember is correct, that I made you feel insignificant, that when I said you meant alot to me that the thought of that been a lie was proven in your mind by my actions and behaviour. I genuinely felt like you were my best friend at one time, I take full responsibility for not living upto that.

You deserved better from a friend. I'm trying to face who I was and not feel shame. I'm still ashamed I did things that I didn't mean too, and even if at the time I didn't know I'd done it, I can say with confidence I'm ashamed I chose to lose touch with you.

Would you even want to be my friend again?