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#me every time i go through a glee phase again
cerise-on-top · 6 hours
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WOOO YOUR REQUESTS ARE BACK OPEN !! first of all, HII welcome back, how are you doing? are you doing alright? i hope you are !!! >> p.s, this is the same anon who requested tall husband!reader nd 141 <33 i'll be 🦗 anon from now on!!
i've come back with another (awfully long 😔) rq !! if that's fine....,,!!
okay so i absolutely adore m!readers, and i have another one for that, so the idea is kind of like,, reader is a bit older/the same age as [char], and he's transmasc! though, he didn't have time to transition in his earlier years- he's just recently started t. what do you think price, nikolai, alejandro, nd rudy's initial reactions are to him like being so giddy to start transitioning and just reactions to him changing his body in general? :)
sorry this is disgustingly long again, & feel free to delete this ask if you feel pressured at all <3
— sincerely, 🦗
Hey there! I'm actually doing better than I did yesterday, thank you :D And don't worry about sending in long requests, I don't mind it one bit! In fact, it helps me get a better feeling for what to write :> And don't worry, I was looking forward to writing this! This was probably my most anticipated request in a long time!
Price, Alejandro, Rodolfo and Nikolai with a Transmasc!S/O
Price: He knows that trans people exist. He’s supportive of them, but that doesn’t mean he understands what they’re going through. He’s never really had a phase where he explored his gender, he’s always felt comfortable being a man. However, he’s very understanding. As soon as you come up to him and tell him you’re finally getting your shots or your gel, he’s overjoyed. Yes, you’ve always been his boyfriend, ever since you came out to him, but you’re finally getting to go on the journey of getting HRT? He smiles along with you and gives you a big hug when you can barely sit still from glee. However, that joy doesn’t compare to actually watching you transition. You’re slowly growing a beard, your voice is getting deeper, your fat distribution is changing. He’s there to celebrate every step of it with you. If you’re alright with it, then he’d like to take a picture of you every once in a while so you can watch how far you’ve come yourself. However, he will sometimes make you go on a jog with him. Might force you to go to the gym with him as well since he can imagine working out could make you feel even manlier. Since he’s on deployment for months at a time, he always finds it to be a treat whenever he gets home. After all, he gets to see you transition so much in all this time. In order to celebrate all these milestones he will take you out on a lot of dates, with him paying, of course. You’re his most ideal man, you need to know just how loved you are. Lots of praise too, you’ve come so far, you’ve gone through so much, you’re so very strong. You’ve gone through things Price can’t even imagine. He’s definitely extremely supportive of you.
Alejandro: He’s never considered himself anything but a man either, but he loves trans people. In fact, I like to imagine that he’d actively stand up for them if someone is being a dick towards them. Alejandro is a well respected man who can make just about anyone shut up, he will not tolerate any bigotry. So, as soon as you come out to him, he gets a big smile on his face and immediately starts calling you his boyfriend. And, once you go on T, he’s just as happy as you are. You’ve had to live in such an uncomfortable body all this time, finally you get to feel like yourself. He’ll help you with your testosterone as well, if you let him, of course. Every time he delivers your shot to you or rubs the gel in he gives you a hug afterwards, shaking a bit with excitement, always raving about how happy he is for you. Sometimes he jokes about how hormones can also be exchanged through making out, but you don’t have to kiss him if you don’t want to. Again, it’s just a joke. You’re his handsome man and if anyone ever dared to disrespect or misgender you then they’ll end up with a black eye. As mentioned above, he does not tolerate bigotry in the slightest. Sometimes he’ll run his thumb over your beard and tell you just how gorgeous of a man you are, and how happy he is to have you with him. On your dysphoric days he’ll remind you that you’re the most wonderful man to have ever existed. Trans is just an adjective, you are a man, you’ve always been one. Sits you on his lap, wraps a blanket around you and lists all the traits that make you a man. And even if he can’t make the dysphoria go away, he’ll still stay with you and cuddle you until you feel better.
Rodolfo: I think there was a time in Rodolfo’s life where he thought he was better off as a woman, but that phase didn’t last too long, a year at most. He didn’t go through with anything either, but he knows what dysphoria feels like to some degree. Ergo he’ll never be a bigot towards trans people. He respects them quite a lot, being misgendered and referred to by the wrong name feels so disheartening, having to go through all of that for such a long time is horrible. So he feels a bit bad when you come out to him, thinking that he’s referred to you by the wrong name and pronouns for such a long time. He apologizes for that as well. Of course, he wishes you all the best and will support you through whatever you wanna do. In fact, if you wanna get surgery then he offers to split the costs with you, he just loves you that much. Once you tell him you’ve finally gotten the prescription for testosterone he’s ecstatic. On the outside he may seem calm, but on the inside he’s a bit disarrayed from the happiness he feels for you. He picks you up and spins you around because he’s just that giddy. Will also help you administer your shots or help you apply your gel, if you’re comfortable with that. He’s very observant, so after a few weeks he’ll tell you how you’re slowly starting to change. Like Price, he’ll invite you to do workouts with him so you can become stronger. However, he also offers to learn about other things with you. Is not above teaching you how to ride a motorcycle either, if you don’t already know. Riding one always makes him feel very masculine. As soon as you grow your first stubble, he’ll cradle your face in his hands before squeezing you so tight, you’d think he wanted to break a rib or two. Praises you so much when he sees you slowly change, he just loves you so so dearly.
Nikolai: Not trans himself, has never had a phase either, but if he likes you then he’ll actually pay for your surgery. He actually paid for Gaz’ top surgery because he’s like a son to him and wanted him to be well. You’re Nikolai’s boyfriend, so naturally he’ll pay for anything you might need. Top surgery, bottom surgery, testosterone, doesn’t matter, you’ll get it from him because he wants to be a supportive boyfriend. He’s a very observant man, so he likely had a hunch you were a trans man before you even told him. While he may not have said anything, he wasn’t particularly surprised when you told him. Asked you for your preferred name and pronouns and hasn’t referred to you as anything else since. He didn’t make a big deal out of it. Has threatened bigots before, though. When you told him you finally got to be on T, after all those years, he was happy. Again, he didn’t make too big of a deal out of it, but he told you how proud he was of you. Like Alejandro, he also joked about making out with you, though. Nothing serious, if you didn’t want it to be, however. Will also point out the small differences as soon as he notices them. As you change more and more, he subconsciously becomes more touchy with you. You’re just such a sweet man, he can’t help it. No real reason, just watching you become more and more content with yourself makes his heart flutter too, so he falls in love with you even more than he did before. If you want to, you’re more than welcome to wear his clothes too, regardless of whether they’re too big on you or not. Nikolai is a very tall guy, so there’s a good chance they are. As a joke, he teaches you the sacred art of grilling in summer. You’ll be able to make the meanest burgers around.
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romanoffsbish · 3 months
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Sex on the Beach
Wanda Maximoff x F!R (College AU)
Natasha x F!R x Yelena (found family)
Warnings: Alcohol | Possessive / Jealous Wanda | Mutual Pining | Shy / Awkward R | Natasha is a little shit 💕
Smut: Awkward/Sweet 1st time (Dialogue Breaks) | Mommy (W) | Thigh-Riding / Strap / Oral (R) | Marking | Oral (W)
With Natasha’s lover deployed for the holiday’s she takes an interest in her best friend’s pathetic love life. | WC: 8,676
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"Natasha, I swear to god I will never forgive you," you whined, hands clutching desperately onto your best friend's crossed arms, but she wasn't phased one bit.
That much was clear as she slowly rolled her eyes, "There are eight rooms, and eleven of us Y/N, there's no way around it. Val and Carol are sharing, I'm the one grouped up with Lena, so suck it up buttercup."
"I can bunk with Bucky!" Natasha laughed, "Yeah, and then when Steve sneaks in what will you do? Pretend to be asleep while they fuck like it's the closet, again?"
You quite frankly didn't mind such vile behavior. Anything seemed better to you than the alternative.
——
"Love is love," you used the mantra as a plead and the redhead nearly keeled over. "Nice..." You grinned then, with a doomed sense of glee. "Still not happening."
"Then why don't you make them bunk together?"
"Because they'd know we know, and it is rude to force people out of their clear glass closets Y/N/N." You simply huffed in reply, and pushed her slightly as you released your former death grip on her. Natasha smiled softly this time, but she refused to change her mind. It was her job as your best friend to push you in the right direction, even if you couldn't see the bigger picture just yet. "Hey! At least Wanda doesn't snore."
You knew from experience Natasha was making the biggest sacrifice of all with Yelena, but quite frankly you didn't care. Right now you are feeling spiteful.
Natasha cackled at the middle finger you threw her way, but it was more so because you tripped as you spun to get away from her. You never hit the ground though as two dainty, albeit mighty hands caught you.
Wanda's eyes had lit up, her nose scrunched as her lips raised joyfully. Natasha could see the hearts circling. So, the redhead took her cue to go, and that made the brunette even more pleased to have you all to herself.
"Falling for me so soon, kitten?" Wanda teased, her lips curled up into an obnoxiously hot smile as your uncrossing eyes peered up at her, you were paralyzed; unsure if you wanted to kiss her grin away or slap it out of existence. The way she never failed to leave you in a hazy state of mind infuriated you, like yes, she was a gorgeous woman, but did she have to crumble you?!
The answer was also yes, all you offered the girl was a weak thanks for saving you from scraped palms, then you quickly scurried off to the room she'd be in soon.
Just like every time, you didn't look up nor back at her, ensuring you missed her sad eyes and pouty lips. If you wanted her plenty, she wanted you even more. Nobody else interested her quite like you did. Wanda had seen you at a few frat parties before she then forged her way into your friend group through Carol and Valkyrie.
They were all on the same volleyball team, and they hit it off so well that they brought her to a game night. You weren't known for your silence, but when she entered that apartment you suddenly became mute. Natasha teased you for a week about your pathetic gay panic, she even tried to tell you it was a mutual crush, but you refused to believe her; she who would never lie to you, yet you questioned her loyalty, lost in a haze of fear.
Natasha was honestly offended; more so determined.
Which is why she had to resort to begging Tony not to book the bigger place for the winter break kick back you were having. None of you had family, at least not the kind worth visiting, so you celebrated together.
For a change of pace from snow and gloom, the lot of you saved up enough for getting passports and Tony refused to let any of you worry about the rest. Howard was not a good father, or man quite frankly, but his well of guilt money was something Tony appreciated.
The Fijian resort he booked was gorgeous, and resided on a private part of the oceanfront, but was still within walking distance of the communal areas. It might be winter vacation, but you were in a sunny paradise across the world, the palm trees swayed as the brisk breeze brought on by the ocean blew right on by.
It was warm and humid, just as you'd expect in a tropical paradise such as this one. After the awkward moment spent embarrassing yourself with your crush you made sure to not be there when she got to the room. Fortunately for you she was stopped by the long term lovers, Care and Val, so you had just enough time to drop your belongings off before exploring the island.
The island was beautiful and the people were friendly enough to even give you a tour of the not so common spots. It was peaceful talking to strangers, and unlike in the states you didn't feel like you were a bother.
After they'd been so generous with their time you thanked them with lunch before heading back to where your friends were all lazing about indoors. To avoid further embarrassment you settled down in the sand and before you realized it you'd spent hours out there.
Perched under a cluster of trees, lost in a nsfw book, honestly you could've stayed there until the sun had set but your friends never really could let you know peace.
"I'm not going," you immediately denied whomever it was that was sent to collect you. Fearful to see the brunette of your dreams after finally calming down.
"Y/N, you need to stop being such a party pooper!"
You sighed softly, knowing that of course Natasha would send the only other person who doesn't back down when it comes to your antics; a lifetime of friendship tends to come with these pesky advantages.
After a moment of anxious thoughts you sighed again, slid a bookmark between the nearly finished pages then held your hand out for the impatient blonde. Yelena grumbled, "took you long enough, I was getting tired of the pity partying," as she hoisted you up with a force that nearly put you right back on the ground.
"It's not a pity party," you weakly defended in offense but the blonde only cackled as she began to walk off, "Y/N, you are all alone reading a book about sex with longing eyes and a pout, totally unnecessary too since you have someone patiently waiting to rail you..."
"Oh my god, Yelena!" The blonde took off before you could berate her like her mom would, but not without shouting back that Natasha had picked your outfit out for you with express instructions on not deviating.
For a split second you considered dropping back into the you shaped hole in the sand, but you knew Yelena was only a warning. If Natasha came to collect you it would be more embarrassing and it was only day one of the trip, there were still nine left to go so you caved.
Once you got to your room you found it to be empty of the woman you feared being around, but her elegant scent lingered and left you in a state of contemplation.
Would it really be so bad to see if Natasha is right?
Could you really be oversimplifying her kindness?
The more you consider it, the more you see her point. Wanda never missed a chance to talk to you, even in the hallways of the massive university she said hello. You usually nodded your head or squeaked out a hi, which you now hope she didn't take offensively. The last thing you'd ever want would be to offend her.
Then there was the glaring proof of today, when she playfully insinuated you'd fall for her... Either she is just a full time tease or you are an oblivious idiot. Truthfully, it was likely a combination of the two.
Your thoughts of consideration died when you looked down to see clothes that were not from your luggage. Natasha had apparently gone shopping for, not with, you and laid out a swim suit and two overlay options.
There was a strapless, one piece swimsuit, which you were grateful for, but the fabric over the hips was cut out and only barely passed the test of your boundaries. After you slipped into it you were left with a dilemma, wear the sheer swim slip or the form fitting dress.
"Good choice," a raspy voice called, you didn't even flinch, part of you expecting the woman to be keeping an eye on you just in case you tried to bail. Natasha chuckled, "at least this time you aren't falling," as you'd flipped the redhead off once more, this time without turning to face her as you were getting dressed.
"Or was that on purpose?" Natasha teased, "Letting Wanda save you—the pretty damsel in distress."
"I hate you," you grumbled as you turned to glare at her. Natasha negated your phrase as her hands moved to pat down the fly away hairs ruined by the fabric sliding over your head, then she smiled proudly. "You sure clean up well when you are properly supervised."
"Now, now... None of that," Natasha scolded as you flopped back onto your mattress in a defiant manner, huffing angrily in Russian to get the point across. "You are getting better, the lessons with mama are working."
"Da," you smiled fondly thinking of Melina, who was one of the only of your friend's parents you liked. The woman presents outwardly as cold, but it's not true. You knew what cold was, you'd grown up with it and so the Russian's house was like a home away from hell.
When Melina said, "How's my baby girl been?" last year while moving to hug you first instead of Nat or Lena you nearly sobbed all over the woman's blouse. But with a petty quip from Lena, "what are we then? Just her daughters?" followed by a jab to her ribs from Natasha who smiled at you, the urge to break down was gone and you kept it together to celebrate.
This year their mom had gone back home, they were going to go along but she was adamant they focused on their friendships and hopefully partners soon. Yelena wasn't as hopeless as you, but Kate unfortunately was.
Nat had Maria—who was deployed for the holidays, and it was then that you realized her focusing on your love life was for her distraction and her mom's joy.
"Stop having googly eyes for my mom," she gagged, "Save them for Wanda." You stood up and pulled your friend's face into your hands, expression far too serious for the redhead to believe you were in distress. "We didn't want to tell you girls yet, but Melina and I are..."
"Don't you finish that sentence you disgusting freak!"
Natasha ripped her face from your hands so she could escape the torture that was your devilish humor. Just as she reached the door she turned to you with a fixed glare as you were wiping away humored tears. "What?"
"Stop standing there like an idiot and follow me Y/N."
You followed the redhead silently, but with a scowl so that she knew you didn't align with her view of you. The walk to the private cabana was silent, but soon the booming voices of your friends surrounded you as they practically cheered. "You two are behind on shots!"
Tony wasted no time after alerting you to the 'dilemma' before he was handing you two full to the brim with what you knew to be the most expensive vodka. The drops lost down your chin probably worth more than the beat up Camry that you drove around back home.
After the burn in your throat faded you stepped into the circle and clashed a third shot into your friends before the lot of you tossed them back with glee. You could feel your mind and body loosening up, it was a relief honestly but then you caught sight of the deep, vivacious green eyes that were raking over your body.
In turn, you followed suit and were not disappointed. Natasha dressed you more provocatively but Wanda looked like she was interested in a casual evening. The brunette didn't need the skimpy dress or makeup to attract the attention of others, at least not with you.
Currently, she was wearing a nude bikini, the top noticeable behind the lengthy patterned cover up. Yet it still turned your mind to mush without the flair and left you to ponder if you were ready to make a move.
Your eyes continued to shamelessly wander her body, a side effect of the strong booze you supposed. There was a thin gold chain that worked like a choker around her neck, with another chain that dangled down the front and drew your attention to the valley of her chest as it only stopped just above her navel. It took everything in you not to gawk at her breasts, so you trailed your eyes back up to find her staring at you, eyes full of tease.
You definitely knew then you weren't ready, the closest you came was to send her an easy smile and Wanda sent back a more enthusiastic one because to her that was still progress. If she played her cards right this trip and thanked the godsend that is Natasha for forcing proximity she might just leave Fiji with you on her hip.
Natasha sent you a soft glare when you excused yourself to the ladies room, where after using the restroom you decided you'd build your courage up a bit more before you would even try to start a conversation.
That's how you found yourself patiently waiting your turn at the bar, sitting sideways on the stool as you fondly watched your friends from afar with a smile.
"Sex on the beach!" Yes, most definitely you thought while giving Wanda another look over. Then you were brought back to reality when the bartender tapped your shoulder. Your body shook with fright, but you regained your composure as you shifted. Kelani, the bartender, smirked as you cocked your head to the side in question. "Courtesy of the lady at the end of the bar." You gulped, clearing your throat to thank the woman then turned to see Natasha in a cloak. The redhead winked, then slinked away to the restroom.
It seemed the persistent woman had a death wish, because if you didn't get to her first, Wanda might.
Unfortunately, you were whisked away before you could reach your shit head of a best friend, who you figured was planning something all day long. Shit head was beginning to seem like an understatement when you felt a body pressing yours into the side of a door.
How the hell did you get inside so quickly?
Wanda was fuming, she was no stranger to a one night stand, and there was no way in hell she'd let you follow the dead woman walking there. It actually hurt her to see you making your way through the crowd to do so.
Was the smile you sent her in vain? Were you merely trying your hand at letting the woman down easy?
There was no part of Wanda willing to accept that, even if you were free to mingle with whomever. She couldn't let you try before you gave her a chance, so she pulled you away from the public, prying eyes of the locals so that she could try her luck one final time.
A light flickered on and you saw your belongings, then you saw a tumultuous sea of green staring down at you, she looked hurt and that made your heart ache and mind nervous. "Wh-what was that W-wanda?"
"What were you doing following that woman Y/N?" She decided to answer your question with one of her own instead, and slowly tilted her head to the side. It felt like you were in trouble, so you remained quiet and it nearly infuriated her but then she saw your gaze.
It was soft, inquisitive in nature, but moreover dilated.
Something deeper than lust swirled; annoyance, and that's when she got the answer. Wanda already had her suspicion of who it was, and she silently thanked her before readjusting her position as well as her words.
"You don't have to be so shy around me, you know?" You did know, but the bashfulness wasn't something you controlled around the goddess, much like your mouth when tipsy, "I know, but like—I can't help but to be turned on by the sight of you."
Well, so much for remaining bashful, Wanda's cheeks warmed before your very eyes, but you missed it as you closed them due to embarrassment. It was taking all of her willpower not to give you what you were both in need of. You were far too special for a quickie, she fully intended to take her time with you, "You know, how about a little fun before we go to bed?"
"F-fun?" Wanda's eyes fell to catch the trepidation of your throat, it bobbed out, almost unnaturally. You both knew there was no going back as her knee slid between your thighs to press into your wet swimsuit.
An airy chuckle left her as you whined, the woman knew for damn sure you'd barely made it to the bar so there was no way you'd taken a dive in the water first.
"Yes honey," she purred as she leaned in closer, "fun," her nose nuzzled against yours and her hot breaths mixed with your own. "Seems you're more than ready, so unless you want to object I'm going to kiss you.
"I-I," your voice trembled as your eyes watered and she lessened the pressure of her knee against your core, a sense of fear in her soul that she'd been too forward.
Wanda softly pressed, "What is it sweetheart?"
"I don't do one night stands," you squeaked out rather pitifully before finding some confidence. "I don't find anything wrong with the notion but it's not for me."
Wanda internally beamed, not only would you not have left that bar with a stranger tonight, but you were able to set a clear boundary; she not only respected it but she agreed with you. Wherever the night takes you two it would never be a once off for the brunette, who unbeknownst to you, was a total hopeless romantic.
Wanda responded softly, her tone free of pressure, "We don't have to sleep together Y/N, we can just lay down and get to know each other better if you aren't ready."
Her nose firmly pressed into yours as she continued, not leaving you a chance to reply before she laid it all out on the table. "I need you to know that as much as I crave you honey, it's not just your body, contrarily what I want most is for your heart to be mine."
With a confidence Wanda had yet to detect you gently pushed her back, initially her heart quivered at the thought of your incoming rejection, but it never came. Instead, you smiled a bit more bravely and pulled the outer layer you'd worn off to reveal just the one-piece.
"If you are being genuine, Wanda, then all I ask is that you take it slow please. I'm not the best at all of this..."
Wanda grinned, her hands quickly found purchase on your waist, unexpectedly rough thumbs ran over the bare skin and caused goosebumps to lay in their wake. Reminding you of the punk band she plays in with her brother and Clint on the weeknights at local bars. A small smile adorned your face, you began to get lost in the memory of the one time you watched them live.
Wanda tilted her head. "What did I lose you to, hm?"
You chuckled softly, "A memory of you performing."
"Oh," she sounded genuinely surprised, and that was because she never knew you'd gone to a show. A part of her was honestly embarrassed, but she covered it up with a tease, "If you were there, then why did I never see you amongst the groupies..." You rolled your eyes and she giggled, the follow up look in your blown out eyes told her she was taking too long to fuck you.
So the woman simply took a second to breathe in the moment, her head leaned back as she smiled broadly up at the ceiling from merely feeling you. "Wanda..."
Her soft, warm lips brushed over yours, cutting off your expected pleading, but she refrained from kissing you just yet. "Want mommy to take control detka?"
A deep, sensual chuckle sounded off the walls as you whimpered and pressed yourself into her. "Please."
The brunette slid her hands up, caressing your sides as her lips gently pecked your cheek, then they crossed over one another as she wrapped you in her embrace. Both of you stood there in silence, breaths mixing but neither of you moved to rid your life of the gap. Time stood still alongside you both until Wanda got her own nerves under control so that she could perform well.
"Is sex before a first date alright with you," she teased with inflection, but her eyes were genuinely inquisitive.
The silence paired with your adorable pout urged her to go on. With a heavy sigh, she did just that. "I ask, again, because once I kiss you Y/N, I don't know how quickly I will be able to stop myself. You just, you make me feel out of control detka, so just please be sure."
The look in her eyes was palpable, lust swirled and you felt a pulse of need between your thighs. You whined, "Mommy please," body too desperate for her attention for you to worry about the embarrassment anymore.
Wanda simply hummed, her thumbs gently dug into your skin and you obediently met her gentle gaze. You could see she wanted to, the way she gripped your hips even tighter a clear sign, but you could see that she needed more reassurance. "I trust you Wanda."
Wanda nods, smile soft as she finally broke the distance, her lips pressed to yours with an earnest need all while her hands returned to your hips so that she could aide you in getting off on her bare thigh. A part of your hazy mind still wondered when she had even removed her swimsuit cover, but the pleasure you felt from her choices left your mind incapable of thought.
The kiss was initially messy and awkward as the two of you got used to the shared affection, but once a rhythm had been set with her hands on your hips you were able to melt more easily into the lip lock. Your mind began to slip away, and the bubbling anxiety followed.
Eventually though, the pleasure became too much as Wanda swiftly slid your swimsuit to the side, the both of you groaned at the much more intimate feeling. It was suddenly tense, the brunette's lips had moved to kiss all over the skin you'd left exposed all the while her hands never stopped building you to your peak.
"Cum for mommy whenever you like," she purred, almost teasingly as she somehow knew you were close. Part of you wanted to feel embarrassed but you were too deep in pleasure to care that you looked desperate.
You came seconds after she left a mark on your neck, in the little juncture where it met with your shoulder. Wanda bit down harshly as she felt your delightful arousal ooze down her thigh, her own need now rising.
Wanda suddenly pulled away to catch the look of bliss on your face, internally cursing herself for nearly missing it; no way she'd waited all this time to see it just to miss it. Fortunately, she was just in time to watch your mouth fall open, and fuck if you weren't the most alluring beauty the woman had ever seen; a mess
The top of your suit had shifted down some as every time Wanda had roughly moved your body back the oak door would shift the elastic red fabric. A peak at your areoles had her mind positively spinning with the endless possibilities for the ways to have you.
The thoughts overwhelmed her while you slowly returned to a state of calm, your once tightly shut eyes fluttered open to catch sight of Wanda with her lip caught between her teeth as her eyes trailed over you.
You leaned in to kiss her slowly, it almost felt like a thank you and that made Wanda's heart swoon further. It lasted for a few seconds until you felt your lungs beg for the break they needed after your intense climax. In the moment of rest you decided to take a page from her book, and the first thing you did now that her body was nearly bare was to gawk at her perky breasts.
They sat so prettily in the cups of her bikini top and you just wanted to bury yourself in the shallow gap that lay between them. Wanda knowingly smirked, finding the look of awe on your face adorable; she was absolutely certain you'd be drooling on her in no time.
"You can touch me detka," she whispered, lips turned up as she met your eyes, "mommy doesn't mind..."
With a shaky hand you reached behind her, fingers gently laid against the clasp of her bra while your eyes searched hers once more for any hesitation. "Do it."
Her nude bra hit the floor, exposing her breasts to you, and just as you'd dreamed before they were perfect. It had always been your thought that all breasts were, no matter if they were lopsided, or small, nothing ever deterred your adoration for the warm, malleable tissue.
Wanda watched the way your tongue slowly licked over your bruised lips, you were hyper fixated on ogling her, but as her hand slid around your neck you realized she was just as desperate as you were to be touched. The worry you once felt melted away as you nuzzled your face against her breasts, lips grazing over the skin in a way that almost felt like teasing. But the woman knew you were just trying to admire the swell of her chest.
A soft sigh left her when you became more firm as your lips pressed into her heated skin. The brunette allowed you to blindly walk her backwards until she fell onto the bed, pulling your body right down with hers. You were lost somewhere in a haze as you suckled on her breasts, leaving behind marks without a thought to if she'd want that, but her moans quelled that rising fear.
Her back arched as soon as your tongue softly flicked over her pert nipple, there was hardly any hesitation as you swirled your tongue around her areola just before you pulled her nipple between your teeth and tugged. The way you suckled on her bud was almost feverish, a gentle laugh left her over a moan as she found your sudden wave of confidence to be a bit unexpected.
Unfortunately, that made you pull away with a crease between your raised brows. "Um, I-I'm sorry if I..."
Wanda replied by wordlessly pulling you back down, your face now hovering her other nipple, it had yet to receive the marvelous treatment and she desperately wanted you to touch her. "Detka, please continue..."
The woman found herself melting as you complied, her back slowly met with the mattress again as she fell into the comfort of your ministrations. Slowly, her hands began to glide over your bare sides, scratching at the skin as you built her arousal up to something painful.
The need to have you overweighed her desire for you to continue satisfying her. Cold hands soon slid beneath the elastic fabric overlaying your body, her nails slowly trailed faint lines over your skin until she finally cupped your breasts as you continued to suck on hers.
On instinct you ground your pelvis down into hers, a moan left you and reverberated around her nipple as you felt something hard rub against you. Again, you hadn't a clue when she had put a strap on, but in the lust of it all you didn't actually care much. Wanda smirked up at the ceiling at your shock, something you caught as you peered up at her from her chest.
"You know," she sighed rather amusedly, "I've dreamt of this moment for a while now and never once did you end up on the top of mommy like this kitten." You released her breast, ready to beg her to let you stay but instead you gasped as her hands groped your tits with precision, using the grip to flip you onto your back.
In a matter of seconds you regained your bearings and saw the consideration in her eyes as she played with the straps of your swimsuit. Wanda watched you gulp down your anxiety before giving her the go ahead, she wasted no time pushing her hands up and out of the top so that she could pull the offensive piece down.
"Holy shit," she chuckled, clearly a bit shocked as she found not only were your nipples pierced but so was your belly button. "My sweet girl is a secret deviant?"
"I was a rebellious teen," you quietly admitted.
"Nothing to be ashamed about kitten," she reassured you within an instant, she saw you internally prepared to shy away though so she shared her own experience with rebellion. "Actually, believe it or not but mommy was too; used to have her lips and nose pierced."
You believed it easily, she was in a punk band...
"I would've loved to see that," you dream aloud and the gorgeous brunette chuckled as she kissed her way up your body until her lips found a home against yours. "I'm sure Pietro will grace you with the evidence."
You cried out at the realization, "Oh god, Natasha..."
Wanda grimaced, pulling back to glare softly as her head tilted naturally. "No more screaming others names... Actually, how about no more talking at all." You were seconds away from combusting, an apology on the tip of your stuttering tongue. "I-I'm s—oh fuck."
Wanda had quickly shushed your apologies as her svelte fingers slid through your lips, collecting the slick warmth from within as she parted them. Her emeralds shone with pure accomplishment and joy as your eyes closed. "Mhm, mommy prefers those sweet moans."
"Tell me honey," Wanda broke her rule again as her wet fingers lifted up to her moving lips. Her thoughts effectively paused as she tasted you for the first time. Wanda moaned around her digits and sucked them clean before she found herself hovering over you. "Do you think you're wet enough for my cock baby? Or do you need mommy's fingers to stretch you out first?"
The crude question made your heart beat out of time, you felt ready for her strap but the idea of her fingers inside of you sounded so appealing. It was actually your attraction to her hands that told Wanda her crush was far from unrequited. You weren't slick with the way you stared at her during your ceramics elective.
Your mind had faltered too, so your thoughts faded. Her eyes dilated at the sound of your pathetic mewl as the tip of her thick strap nudged at your tight hole. Her fingers pressed the crimson cock to the side so that her fingers could enter you instead. The spit that remained helped to ease her in alongside your decadent slick.
Wanda had already decided for you, and it just so happened that she too had fantasized about just how good you'd feel around her fingers. However, in your mind it would have been at a faster pace, Wanda wanted to take her time and really get to feel you.
Her fingers kept a steady pace until your moans had calmed into occasional mewls, then she slid back in and scissored your walls further apart, a third finger entered you as her thumb began to circle your clit. You had gasped against her face and Wanda felt powerful.
"M-more please," you whimpered hoarsely into her ear, her fingers entered back inside you just as you pleaded further, "Mommy please, let me cum!!" Wanda curled her fingers into your greatest depths and you came with a loud cry as she grunted hotly in your ear.
Her fingers continued to sensually stroke and prod at that rough, yet tender spot within your greatest depths just so she could continue to hear your sweet gasps of a drawn out pleasure. The throb between her own legs was only intensified as you begged for her to stop but also keep going in the same breath as your hips canted.
Wanda whispered something in Sokovian, you'd never know but she was cursing you for being so hypnotizing. No one had ever made her this needy for a release, her hips followed yours so she ripped her fingers from your core. A satisfied hum garbled by her fingers sounded off above as she once again licked her fingers clean.
"I can't wait to taste you from the source kitten," she practically squealed and you found her giddiness to be so intimate with you endearing. Her lips pressed into yours and her velvet smooth tongue slid over yours without so much as a bit of resistance. You sloppily kissed the woman until her strap slid into you halfway.
There was a noticeable burn at the rapid stretch but you whined in disappointment when she pulled out.
To fuck you into the mattress was a dream, sure, but Wanda had other dreams for tonight's fun. "Mommy needs you to ride my cock, pretty girl..." Your eyes had widened but Wanda faced the fear for you by kissing you distracted as her hands flipped your positions.
You landed on top of her with a hmph, and a soft glare as the woman peered down with a smug grin. "I can take it Y/N, you aren't going to hurt me, so hop on."
A shuddered breath left you as you faced the concern head on, lifting your body to hover her raised strap. Wanda nodded and held onto your hip with her free hand as you slowly sunk down. Your walls clenched hard, preventing you from sliding down further so she lifted her now free hand up to stroke your lip on the way up to play with your throbbing bundle. The burn faded into white hot pleasure and soon you bounced; vigorously moving your hips and stealing the air from the woman beneath you's lungs as her clit felt the pleasure every time your bounces provided pressure.
A particular press of the hilt into her clit drew a moan you knew she'd tried to keep buried within her chest. It was so vulnerable and incredibly attractive, so much so that your walls fluttered rapidly around her strap.
"You're close," the brunette grunted with certainty as she began to rock her hips in time to meet your drops, desperate not only for her own release but to see you fall apart above her. "So am I baby, I just—fuck, play with your tits for mommy, please, we'll cum together."
"There you go," she encouraged with a sultry glint in her eyes as her hips unconsciously sped up, her eyes raptly focused in on the way you squished 'em together before moving to pinch your pierced, sensitive nubs.
A guttural moan left the woman when your work paid off, her orgasm sent tingles of pleasure down her spine in a perfect curve. The wave directly ended with the rise of her hips and the subsequent fall of yours. Your pleasure gushed on out of you and drenched Wanda as your upper body lurched forward and her face wound up buried between your breasts that heaved wildly.
There was a sense of satisfaction that charged the air on both of your ends, but it also felt unfinished as you laid on your back, with Wanda's smiling face gazing up at you from between your breasts, a parallel to your earlier, swapped position. "What's on your mind?"
"Am I that obvious," she teased, knowing damn well that her eyes were still desperate for you. Her lips kissed the sides of your breasts as she began her descent, "you know what's coming, so brace yourself."
Even with the clear warning you couldn't help but to moan like a whore and bury your fingers into her hair. Your puffy, overused lips were already so sensitive that the use of her mouth was never needed but she would be damned if she didn't use her tongue to please you.
Wanda preferred to live life on an even keel so she didn't stop when your essence coated her throat, nor when it dripped down her chin or when you pushed her head, desperate for reprieve. No, the carnal need to keep you cumming was enough to keep her munching until you came for the sixth time and yanked her away.
There was no remorse on her glistening face as she peered up at you with a scrunched nose and smiled. "Sorry sweetheart, but you are just so delectable." As expected, you did not reply as you were lost inside your scrambled mind. Wanda perched herself up on her knees and admired your body as it continually jolted. Her hands felt the way that the muscles in your thighs quivered beneath her fingertips from the overexertion.
You'd been fucked into a state near comatose so for now the brunette decided it best to lay beside one another as you recomposed. With an arm slid beneath your waist and her fingers tenderly walking down your body, starting from your face and ending on your hip where she'd swirl her finger into a few shapes before she traced her fingers all the way back to your face.
"Welcome back," she giggled when your eyes cleared as her fingers lightly tapped over your temple. Your eyes narrowed and you huffed softly as you burrowed close. Wanda chuckled as you loudly yawned against the side of her neck then kissed the skin as your lips met. You nudged her until she was flat on her back and suckled, you were tired but also determined to show her a good time. "Honey, we need to clean up and get some rest."
"Please mommy," you croaked sadly, "I want to taste you, just one lick then we can get cleaned up, please."
Fuck. Wanda realized that she couldn't say no to you when you looked so beautiful, eyes glistening under the  bright lights of the room with a post orgasmic glow. At the sight of her nod you kissed down her body happily, making sure to bite down on the bruising skin. Her grip on the base of your neck grew reciprocal as you chose to use pain to arouse her further. You already knew her body so well, it was the best feeling ever.
With a loophole in your mind you kiss her lips, soft enough to not collect much slick to constitute a taste but more than enough to make her cry out weakly. Wanda had about half a mind to rip you away for playing her so well but then your tongue stroked up and down her walls, you had found another cheat.
To you, a lick logically only ended when the stroke faltered but much to her shock it hadn't, not even once.  Though tired you powered through, plunging your muscle in and out of her without the intention to stop. Once her thighs slammed shut you moved your lips up to her clit and rejoiced as she drenched your chin.
"I'd say you very well know what you're doing," she huffed amusedly as she caught your gaze on her face.
"I'm not even sorry," you giggled as you trailed her slick all over her sweaty torso on your way to her lips. Wanda chuckled hoarsely, "Neither am I kitten."
After the both of you took a second to breathe you stared deeply into the others eyes, Wanda cupped your cheek and scrunched her nose as she, in true sapphic fashion, spoke her premature desires into the world. "Y/N, you are the most beautiful human I've ever had the fortune of knowing. I know we haven't spoken much but I want you to know I feel in my heart that you are the person I'm meant to fall in love with."
You gulped, "like soulmates? You think we are?"
Wanda nodded with a grin. "Most definitely, you are the only one who has ever been allowed to taste me."
Your eyes nearly bulged out of your skull and she laughed boisterously at your shock; you were so cute.
"Are you serious?" Wanda nodded with a much more nervous smile. "So, when you hesitated, it was—."
"I really did want you to rest," she interrupted, "but then I saw the dark look in your eyes. They were so droopy and yet you wanted to please me in return."
"Has no one ever tried?" Wanda bit her lip at the question, it felt intrusive but she knew you meant well so she didn't deflect. "Not really. Just once but it felt wrong. I didn't want them to have the access to me."
You beamed with a sweet shine in your eyes, then you kissed her lips with a tenderness that made her smile. "Thank you for trusting me, and taking such good—."
Wanda cut your praise off with a deeper kiss, you lazily swirled your tongue with hers until she was satisfied.
"Don't ever thank me for doing anything for you," she commanded gently, "you deserve to be worshipped."
"I think we're soulmates too," you finally affirmed her prior notion and she looked at you shocked. She had never intended for you to share a response so soon after her aggressively-launched inquiry. But you did, and it was obviously heartwarming. "You're safe."
Wanda tightened her arms around you and just basked in the after glow of her dream come true for a bit. Then, when she felt you were about to drift off she sprung into action while she left you to take a cat nap.
When she returned to the room she lightly stroked your face until your eyes fluttered open. "I know you're tired love but we need to get cleaned up, come on." In a sleepy haze you accepted her hand and let her do it all. There was no visual recollection but you felt her every light touch and heard the sweet nothings as she took her time cleaning you both up to let your muscles soak.
Eventually you two made it back to bed after sharing a water bottle and a container of fruit and nuts that Wanda had snuck to the kitchen to steal for you both. Now you two were perfectly wrapped up together.
Neither of you were too familiar with love, the both of you having spent most of your adult life single, but it's something you felt budding as you melted into her. The brunette was far too content to sleep, with you on her chest her wildest dream had come true, so she was afraid if her eyes took the risk that you'd be gone. Then she felt your soft breaths, and her own exhaustion rise, her extensive exertion caught up to her quickly. Eyes of green trailed over your form once more before closing.
"Oh god," Yelena's voice cracked as she spoke through the door. "I can smell the nefarious things you did."
Wanda rolled her eyes, there was nothing cruel about the way she just made love to your body, but of course the blonde would make your encounter devilish. For a moment Wanda just ignored her presence, pretending to be asleep but Yelena was just too damn intuitive.
"Wanda Maximoff," she sang tauntingly, "We know you are definitely not sleeping. You are probably too busy staring at Y/N with love-sick puppy dog eyes."
Wanda threw the alarm clock that neither of you would use at the door and groaned when all the blonde did was laugh maniacally "Exactly, you are so whipped."
Her voice was strained, "What do you want Belova?"
"Natasha said she doesn't care if you are mid-fuck, the both of you better get dressed and join the bonfire."
At just the mention of Natasha your head popped up, you glared intensely out the window, Wanda giggled.
"Does someone want revenge?" You groaned and put your face back in the safety of Wanda's neck. The way you grumbled incoherently against her skin only made her laugh harder, the sensation having tickled her.
Then the pressure changed, you were no longer talking but instead you were suckling on her skin, returning the favor of visibly marking her until she moaned.
"Okay," Yelena chuckled nervously, "I do not want to have to hear the sinning, take this visit as a warning."
You rolled your eyes this time, knowing the truth to her words which made you pull away. Wanda could see the reluctance in your expression and it made her melt. To see you were eager for a round two focused on her was enough to make her want to ignore Natasha's threats.
It was never up to her though as you got up, Russian curses directed at redhead nothing short of amusing. Even though you presented as grumpy, the woman knew deep down that the meddling Russian sisters were the closest thing to family that you had. So, you rushing to get dressed wasn't in fear of the redheads daunting arrival, but more so you wanting to see her.
To thank her for the push, which you did moments later after the both of you arrived. You led Wanda to a chair big enough for two and left the brunette with a timid kiss, aware that all your friends were there. Tony went to tease you but was stopped by Wanda's glare.
"I'd rather watch this anyway," he chuckled as he turned away from your terrifying girlfriend. Wanda followed his gaze and couldn't help but to laugh, you were chasing Nat around the rough sand on wobbly legs, which only spurred her taunting on tenfold.
Once you caught up to her you tackled the redhead, nobody could hear you two anymore, but they could see you were mercilessly tickling the woman. After a torturous minute she called uncle and you both stood, her hand shook yours in a truce that relaxed you, but then she smirked and leaned in closer to taunt you.
"You're welcome for the fun," her eyes were swirling with mischief as they fell to the side of your neck. "Who knew the group's favorite nun in training had it in her."
"Bite me," you shot back and her eyes sparkled at the ease of her next tease, "Looks like Wanda already did."
Natasha cackled the whole way back to the group as she jogged to her seat to escape your next attack. It wasn't going to deter you though, sand flew from beneath your feet as you neared the group in a rush.
Two seconds before you could reach her though you felt your body being yanked down by what you believed to be gravity, but then you felt softness beneath you.
Wanda had shamelessly pulled you into her lap, she was sat with her legs crossed, and her eyes bore a playfulness to them alongside a bit of sternness. The entire group watched the way you settled, no words needed to be exchanged as you cuddled into her side. The brunette kissed your forehead, then followed it up with a peck to your nose and a languid one to your lips.
"Wow! The beast has been tamed," Tony cheered, the group of your friends giggled loudly and you frowned.
"Careful how you speak of my girl Tony," Wanda said with a tone that dripped with a warning, her eyes not even moving away from yours as she defended you. The sexual energy that oozed off the the two of you was always there, but the visible marks had never been.
Tony sighed at the direct confirmation, "I vote we remove them from the bet," drawing the both of your attention back to your friends who were anxiously sat.
Your tone was clearly confused, "The bet?"
"Catch up kid," the billionaire shot at you, you were just about to remind him you were older but he just continued on being a douchebag, "It was no secret you and the practicing witch would bone this trip. So, as opportunists we all bet on what night it might happen."
You looked to your family with a glare, "Nat? Lena?"
The sisters shrugged while their outstretched hands were collecting the hundreds. "It was an inevitability Y/N Y/L/N, so we obviously made it profitable."
You flipped the blonde off, then the redhead next. The bulk of your friends chuckled when they saw you try to shy away from their gaze by burrowing into Wanda. Everyone was more than thrilled to see you smile like that, all soft and obviously lovestruck for the woman and the brunette adored that you found comfort in her.
"It's okay detka," Wanda coo'd lovingly into your ear, with one hand on your back to soothe you while the other reached out to accept her cut of the bet money. "I'm sure our friends here will pay for our date..."
Tony gasped, but his rebuttal died on his tongue as your smirking girlfriend tilted her head a fraction to the right, her fingers wiggled and the man would swear for years to come he saw a flash of red spark at the tips.
Wanda smirked at the man before her lips fell into something softer as she regarded your sleeping form. Her gaze slowly drifted up to the pair of sisters to her right who stared at her intently. Natasha smiled at her, and in that moment they came to a silent agreement. All your sister by claim wanted was for you to be happy and taken care of, something Wanda promised with a nod. Natasha easily fell back into conversation after.
Yelena however had a much different approach as she glared at the brunette with all the contempt she had within. "Prichini yey bol', i ty umresh', muchitel'no."
(Hurt her and you die, painfully.)
This time, Natasha didn't jab her sister in the hip and Wanda didn't test her chances, she merely nodded.
——
The following morning came with disorientation on your end as you woke up to the sound of a muted buzz. Your mind was still lightyears behind your ears though so you subconsciously thought it was the yardmen on your campus as per usual. Then you felt a body pressed into your sore one and you remembered. You were halfway across the world, entangled with your crush.
It wasn't a fever dream but a glorious reality...
Your eyes slowly fluttered open to see Wanda asleep, with her lips pursed and nose pressed into your chest, the noise from before now had an official source. You wanted to giggle at her, but you merely rolled your eyes and softly cursed your best friend. "Chertov lzhets."
(Fucking liar...)
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pippytmi · 1 year
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For the fake dating thing 11 with whomever you want!
“Do you always get into fist fights on first dates, or am I just lucky?”
There is a bruise already forming on Kara’s jaw, and her hand still has a phantom ache that won’t go away. There might be a touch of blood on the lapel of her shirt, too, but she has been unable to confirm without ready access to a mirror. But it’s this—the firm click of silver six-inch heels against pavement announcing Lena’s arrival—that brings Kara an instant sense of uneasiness.
“It’s kind of in the job description,” Kara shrugs off the rhetorical question. “You know, of being a girlfriend.”
Lena Luthor has an uncanny ability to make Kara feel completely, totally inept in any situation just with a quizzical quirk of an eyebrow and a ruby-red lipsticked frown. Not because she deliberately tries to, but because that’s just the Luthor™ way. Every member of that family seems to have mastered the ability to stare hard enough to make anyone squirm. Even though Kara has known Lena since they were kids—even though they know each other better than anyone else in the world—the effect is the same.
“That might be the most idiotic thing you’ve said all night.” Despite her stoic expression, Lena’s voice is surprisingly soft. “You should have walked away.”
“That would have been worse than not punching Mike Matthews, I think,” Kara says. “Really, I’m ninety-five percent sure I’m supposed to defend your honor, or… whatever the saying is.”
And the strangest thing happens; a glimpse of amusement cracks through Lena’s frown, visible in the ever-so-gentle upturn of the corner of her mouth. “Sorry, did I miss the part where we time traveled a hundred years ago?”
“It’s—you know what I mean,” Kara says. “If I was your real girlfriend everyone would expect me to punch guys in the face for you.”
“Or,” Lena counters, “it might be overkill, since everyone knows you are not inherently a violent person.”
Kara sheepishly tugs at her collar, unable to stop herself from flushing when Lena gazes at her so pointedly. “Does it matter if everyone who meets Mike wants to punch him? Because I’m pretty sure he could make a nun violent.”
“Wow,” Lena says. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say a mean thing about anyone before this.”
“Yeah, well…” Kara grimaces. “Mike Matthews brings it out of me. Or maybe this stuffy party does.” Her hand unconsciously goes back to her jacket, and she has to shrug it off all at once, suddenly feeling constricted in her suit. “I don’t know how you do it.”
Lena must be far more uncomfortable than Kara is, with those high heels and the skintight dress and the overall burden of familial expectations hanging on her shoulders, but she masks it remarkably well. “Practice,” she says—sighs. “And whiskey.”
“Gross,” Kara says, unconsciously crinkling her nose as she works at undoing her tie next. “I’m more of a Capri Sun girl myself.”
A short, stunned laugh emerges before Lena can likely quell it. “Right, how could I forget,” she says, and tilts her head in that curious way she does whenever she has a question she isn’t sure how to ask. But it must pass, because her actual question comes out in the form of: “Is there a reason you’re stripping in full view of the paparazzi?” 
“Fan service?” It’s a weak joke, but it makes Lena roll her eyes in that mock-exasperated way that Kara knows would be a laugh out of anyone else. “I just need to cool off, maybe. Then I promise, I’ll be your doting girlfriend for all the cameras again.” She allows a beat before she adds, perhaps unnecessarily, “Without any violence.”
“Yes, I think my mother would very much prefer that.”
Kara laughs, remembering the horrified look on Lillian Luthor’s face with—admittedly—a bit of glee. “Yeah,” she says, “I’m sure she’s thrilled with how tonight is going.”
“Well, she does think it’s all part of a rebellious phase,” Lena muses. “She’s convinced I’m doing this just to spite her.”
Kara has felt the brunt of Lillian’s disapproval back since she first befriended Lena when they were kids, back when they were auditioning for the same movie. Honestly, there is no telling why Lillian has always disliked Kara. Maybe it was because she wasn’t a nepotism baby like all the rest of crowd, or maybe it was because Kara would sneak Lena out of the giant Luthor mansion to go to the movies, or maybe it was because when they were teenagers Kara had wrecked the Porsche (on a dare)...but that disdain has been steadfast ever since they were young, and it’s never once wavered. Everyone knows it. Lena knows it.
Which is why Kara is unable to keep the confusion out of her voice when she says, “Uh. Aren’t you?”
“Aren’t I…what?” Lena repeats, lost.
“Pretending to date me to spite her?” Kara prompts. “You know. Since she hates me?”
Lena’s brow furrows ever-so-slightly. “I didn’t mean dating you,” she says. “I mean dating in general. She thinks it’s a distraction.” She absentmindedly picks at one of the sequins on her dress, a nervous tic that she has never been able to shake. “God, it’s getting cold out here.”
The temperature is just right for Kara, but Lena has always run cold; Kara’s poked fun at her for it once or twice (or for their entire childhood, but who’s keeping track). An unbidden smile, fonder than it has any right to be, inevitably forms. “Well sit down, so you can leech some of my body heat. Besides, you make me tired just looking at you in those heels.”
“Then I’ll be colder,” Lena objects, eyeing the stone of the fountain edge that Kara is currently sitting on. “No way.”
“You’re the most high maintenance fake girlfriend ever,” Kara feigns annoyance. “Here, then. Sit on my lap. And you can put my jacket over your legs.”
It’s hard to exactly tell with the dim lighting of the streetlights, but Lena—blushes? Maybe? And immediately shakes her head. “I’m too heavy.”
“No such thing,” Kara retorts. “I’ll keep stripping if you don’t sit down, Lena. Then your mother will really have a reason to hate me.”
“You are trying to create scandal everywhere you can tonight, aren’t you?” Lena says, but doesn’t move, only crosses her arms and gives Kara an exasperated look. “It would be a hell of a front page.”
“Wow, Lena, if you wanted me naked all you had to do was ask,” Kara says, undoing the first two buttons of her shirt while Lena continues to glare. Then, for fun, she continues up until she hits the top of her bra and Lena’s jaw fully drops in alarm.
“Oh my God, Kara, stop!”
But the ruse works, because as Lena moves forward as if she’s about to button Kara’s shirt back up (or just push her into the fountain), Kara is able to wrap an arm around Lena’s waist and tug her down. Lena yelps in surprise, arms coming up to squeeze around Kara’s neck, and Kara has to hide a grin into the curls that hit her full force in the face.
“Geez, Lena, you’re like an ice cube. Don’t you own a sweater?”
“You asshole,” Lena says, but there is no bite in her voice, only annoyed defeat. “If I get glitter all over you, I’m not going to apologize.”
“I’ll let it slide, this once.” Kara doesn’t mention that there’s nothing in the world that she wouldn’t let Lena get away with. That’s the inevitable truth of being in love with this girl pretty much her whole life—Kara caves first, and she always has. Whether it was what flavor of Gatorade to get from the vending machine, or whether it was who got to sit down in the only remaining chair for a last minute casting call, or whether it was to tag along to Lena’s prom date so the boy wouldn’t try to kiss her, Kara always let Lena call the shots.
Lena exhales; Kara feels the warmth of Lena’s breath against her temple, feels the steady weight of Lena’s body as she shifts on Kara’s lap, feels the rough pattern of Lena’s dress sequins against her fingertips. “You know you’re my best friend, right?” Lena says suddenly.
Those words always make Kara’s heart skip a beat, like they’re right back to being fifteen and nervously holding each other’s sweaty hands while poring over crumpled scripts. “I’d better be,” Kara quips, if only to keep her sappiness at bay, “or I’m returning the BFF necklaces I brought as our first-anniversary gift.”
“I’m serious,” Lena huffs, and her grip around Kara’s neck tightens just a hair. “Will you let me be serious?”
“Okay, okay. One hundred percent seriousness from here on out, I promise.”
For a moment, the only sound is that of cars passing, of the trickle from the water fountain, of the faint music coming from the party. And when Lena speaks at last, it’s quiet. “I know my mom’s not the…easiest person,” she says. “And if pretending to be my girlfriend is going to make you uncomfortable because you have to deal with her, you don’t have to do it.”
“I’ve been dealing with your mother forever, Lena,” Kara says lightly. “She hasn’t been able to scare me off yet, for as much as she’s tried.”
Lena scoffs, but her hand is unmistakably tender as she fiddles with Kara’s shirt collar. “What happened to being serious?”
“I am serious! Do you or do you not remember that time we went to the water park? I swear she cut a hole in my water tube slide. And let’s not even bring up the whole prom incident, because I swear my hip has never been the same since falling out of your window.”
“She didn’t even know that was you.” Lena laughs, and it’s still somewhat hesitant, but just affectionate enough to reflect her feelings about that memory. “That feels like a lifetime ago.”
Kara inhales, shakily, both the sweet scent of Lena’s perfume and some much-needed air. “In a good way or a bad way?”
Lena presses her forehead into Kara’s jaw, her skin still cold enough that it makes Kara sympathetically squeeze her tighter. “Can you just promise to tell me if you don’t feel comfortable?” she asks, and ignores Kara’s question entirely. “Either with my mother, or…just the pretending part with me.”
“I feel plenty comfortable,” Kara tries, but Lena just reiterates,
“Promise me, Kara. I don't want to lose you.”
Something about the urgency in Lena's tone shifts the mood entirely; Kara swallows tightly and nods obligingly. “Okay. I promise. But you have to tell me, too, if anything becomes…I don't know, too much.”
“Fine,” Lena agrees readily.
“No, wait, but listen,” Kara presses. “Being friends is one thing, but dating is another, and—even if it's fake, we're going to have to do couple things. And I don't want it to ruin our friendship.”
“I also don't want to ruin our friendship,” Lena says. “Which is why I brought it up first.”
“Good. Okay. I just wanted to be sure.” Kara awkwardly shifts, all too aware that this might not be the ideal time and place for this conversation. Much less when Lena's still in her lap, clinging to Kara as if afraid to let go. “So on a scale of one to ten, how badly have I messed up the friendship by fighting Mike?”
Lema hums, considering. “That depends on what he said about me.”
“Um, nothing nice,” Kara says haltingly. “I'd rather not repeat it.”
“Then I'll let it slide…this once.” Lena's hands find their way up to Kara's face, fingertips gentle against the bruise on her jaw. “But you are still an idiot.” She thumbs warmly against the apple of Kara's cheek and gazes at Kara from underneath thick mascaraed eyelashes, then whispers, “And you're my favorite.”
“Your favorite idiot?”
“My favorite person.” Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Kara is sitting on Lena's bedroom floor still tugging at her tux because it itches. Suddenly they're seventeen again, and Lena is biting her lip and unable to catch Kara’s eye. Suddenly they’re seventeen again, and Lena is whispering I wanted you to make sure he didn’t kiss me because I want you to be my first kiss.
Kara blinks, mouth opening and closing for a pause, before she has to fall back on a safe feeling—fall right back to humor, so Lena does not comment on the way Kara’s body automatically tenses. “Aw, Lena,” she manages, “that sounded a lot like you like me.”
“I’m just a good actress,” Lena says mock-haughtily, but her eyes are searching as they lock onto Kara’s, expression softening the way no one else ever really sees. To the world she’s always been some cold, aloof superstar, but to Kara she will always be the best friend who wanted her first kiss to be with the person she trusted most in the world.
“Well for the record,” Kara swallows thickly, “you’re my favorite, too.”
There is a split second—a charged, electric second—where Kara swears Lena is going to kiss her. Her eyes are hooded like they’re about to close, and her face sways closer, her hand still resting on Kara’s bruised jaw. But then she sighs, and Kara can feel the distance before she sees it.
“We should go back inside,” Lena says, abruptly stumbling off of Kara's lap. “Sooner or later we'll have to do damage control.”
It takes a beat for Kara to catch up. “Right,” she says, hastening to button up her shirt and follow. “It wouldn't be a Luthor party without damage control.”
“It's the first time you're the cause, though,” Lena throws over her shoulder. “And don't forget your tie!”
“Got it,” Kara calls, undoing her tie entirely and tossing it into the bushes. “Hey, wait up! Come back and hold my hand.”
That makes Lena freeze in place. “What?”
“For—you know, the cameras,” Kara says, shrugging her suit jacket back on. “So we can show a united front.”
Lena gives her an inscrutable look. “You say the weirdest things sometimes,” she says, but she allows Kara to catch up and intertwine their hands together without further complaint. 
“How else is everyone supposed to know you're not mad at me?” Kara reminds her. “Or that I'm the best girlfriend you've ever had?”
“I doubt they're going to make that assumption based on hand holding.” But as they climb up the steps to rejoin the gala, the low, golden light illuminates that dimpled smile of Lena's that makes Kara breathless. “What makes you think you're the best, anyway?”
“Just a guess,” Kara says, squeezing Lena's hand as they reach the entrance. “Am I?”
“Let's see if you end tonight without any more fights first,” Lena quips, and while her voice is teasing, her smile grows exponentially tender. “Ready?”
“Ready,” Kara echoes quietly, and allows Lena to lead her right through those double doors knowing that she would follow Lena anywhere.
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undermounts · 8 days
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bite the hand - chapter 3: stuck in your teeth
pairing: Astarion/The Dark Urge
summary: Astarion helps her hide the body. Romance ensues.
preview:
Yes, looking at him now, it truly is so obvious.
The pallid skin, the red eyes, the too-sharp eye teeth, the scars on his neck. The fact that over the course of nearly a week, Irileth has never seen him even eat.
Irileth breathes, “Vampire.”
Check it out on AO3
content warnings: allusions to torture and emotional, physical, and sexual abuse
There is a giant spider beneath the blighted village.
Or at least there was.
“Good gods!” Gale pants, shaking bits of frost off the tips of his fingers, residual effects of his magic. He moves to lean heavily on his staff, then hastily drops it, covered in poison as it is. “That was quite exhilarating. Though I’d rather not do that again.”
Irileth hums in agreement, scratching lightly at the spots where webbing has clung to her leather armor. How irritating. The stringy material sticks to every surface it touches.
“You handled yourself quite well in that fight, wizard,” Lae’zel observes as she slashes her greatsword in a sharp arc through the air, flicking spider guts to the floor. “I’m impressed. I thought your kind were all… soft.”
Gale coughs, looking equal parts flattered and embarrassed. “That is, um. Ah. Well. That is well.”
“And this is why you should never let wizards out of their towers,” Astarion mutters, nudging the frosted body of a phase spider with the toe of his boot. He lets out an exclamation of disgust when the chitinous exoskeleton cracks and crumbles away. “Eugh. Wretched things.” He looks at Irileth, then again at Gale. “They have one normal social interaction and completely break.”
“I’m quite useful if put in the right place.” Gale is still rambling, his hands now folded behind his back as they often are when he begins one of his little monologues. “Which is far away. One well-placed fireball from the right vantage point—” He holds his index finger up and mimes it moving in an arc through the air, “—and bam! You can change the entire course of battle.”
Lae’zel merely looks at him for a long stretch of time. “...Yes. So you can. Though it is unfortunate you did not use this strategy in our battle. A fireball would have been more useful instead of all of this ice.”
“Right.” Gale flushes, thumbing at the stubble on his chin. “I shall endeavor to do that next time.”
“There is no endeavor, only do,” Lae’zel replies in her raspy, biting way. “But it is good to know you can take direction.” Her blade sings as she sheathes it behind her back. “Now, what next?”
“Oooh, is that how this works?” Astarion asks, clapping his hands with mock glee as he comes to lean against the cavern wall beside Irileth. “We point at something, and you hit it? Like some sort of obedient attack dog?”
“Chk. Call me a dog again, Astarion,” the gith growls, narrowing her eyes, “and you will be the one made to heel. I guarantee it.”
“Oh,” Astarion purrs, entirely unruffled. Although he replies to Lae’zel, his eyes slide to meet Irileth’s. He grins, syrupy slow. “I rather hope you do.”
Ridiculous. Utterly absurd.
“I remember reading something about a hidden cellar, back in the apothecary,” Irileth says as she pushes away from the wall, sliding her daggers—now mostly cleaned of webbing—back into the sheaths on her waist. She can’t plan very well when Astarion is around, and definitely not when he’s looking at her like she’s something he’d like to eat. “I think we should check it out. Might be stocked with supplies we can use. Spell components?”
“A marvelous idea!” Gale offers her one of his kind smiles. “I’ve a feeling that we will need all the resources we can get for the days ahead, and a little proactivity will go a long way.” 
Irileth enjoys Gale’s company and his calm, scholarly way of speaking, even if she hasn’t got any idea what he’s talking about half the time. Everything is new to Irileth, but magic and its many schools are especially foreign to her. It seems a wondrous thing that, under different circumstances, she would like to learn if she had a single, substantially magical bone in her body.
“Very well,” Lae’zel permits with a brisk nod. “Let us see what this… apothecary ,” she says this slowly, testing the syllables, “holds.”
That has been an interesting, if not bizarre, development: Lae’zel’s gradual deference to her. Irileth knows the githyanki fighter has an unshakeable respect for the chain of command—a disciplined warrior to her core. Irileth just didn’t expect that at some point in the last few days, she would end up somewhere on that chain, and rather high, too.
De facto leader indeed. She can only imagine how smug Astarion would be, if she told him he was right. 
Irileth looks at him now in question. She made a promise after all. Consultation. “What do you think?”
Astarion straightens, brows raising. He’s… surprised to be asked for his input. As if he didn’t make an entire ordeal of it yesterday (his thumb pressed into her palm, mouth on her hand).
He recovers quickly and bows his head dramatically. “It seems as good an idea as any. Lead on, darling.”
He comes to her like this: in the dead of night, while all their companions sleep soundly in their tents, with a tread as soft as down. So quiet is Astarion, that had he chosen anyone else for this sanguine satiation, he might have succeeded.
Irileth, though, is not easy prey.
She sleeps lightly, twitching and spasming through most evenings. Now, amidst her dreams of blood mist and steel, she feels a tremulous breath against her neck, a gentle hand on her shoulder. And that is what does it for her, what rouses her into wakefulness: the clemency with which he touches her.
(They always held her kindly, the hands that made her bleed. A valuable little pet, she was.)
(Bone, daughter.)
Flat on her back in her makeshift tent, Irileth reaches for the blade she keeps beneath her bedroll and presses its edge against Astarion’s stomach before he even realizes she is awake. The little “oh shit” he utters when he does realize—Irileth is just on the right side of madness that she thinks she could laugh, were she not so furious.
His face is tucked into her neck, nose grazing her ear, and she can feel the way he tenses against her. They must look, she muses distantly, like a pair of lovers. 
With her free hand, she slides her touch up between his shoulder blades, nails grazing along the back of his neck. His breath sharpens, shudders, and Irileth abandons his bare skin to tangle her fingers into the silvery curls of his hair. She yanks, drawing his head back, just far enough to see his eyes, how they have rounded with surprise.
Astarion winces beneath her hand, but he holds himself still, even as he beseeches her, pupils wide in the firelight that barely seeps into her tent. “No, no—it’s not what it looks like, I swear!”
“Explain.” Irileth releases him with a shove and rocks to her knees, holding her blade between them. Astarion is quick to scramble back, his shoulder brushing against the tent flap and revealing a glimpse of the dim campfire beyond and—oh.
Yes, looking at him now, it truly is so obvious.
The pallid skin, the red eyes, the too-sharp eye teeth, the scars on his neck. The fact that over the course of nearly a week, Irileth has never seen him even eat.
Irileth breathes, “Vampire.”
Astarion is a vampire. Would have been nice to figure that one out before she woke up to find his teeth at her neck.
Gods damn her, she even has that book. The Curse of the Vampyr. They found it in Withers’ temple on the second day. She wonders if even the skeleton already knew.
Astarion’s hand is a pale, trembling thing between them, his eyes darting rapidly from Irileth’s face to her blade. They both know how well she wields it.
“I wasn’t going to hurt you,” he pleads in a rush, the words tripping over themselves. “I just needed, well—” 
She knows what he is going to say before he says it. 
“Blood.”
Irileth is nearly floored by the desperation in his voice. She’s heard Astarion perform before. But this, she thinks, is real. And he’s not just desperate. At this moment, he fears her.
And a part of Irileth likes it.
Because of that, Irileth forces her hand to lower the blade.
“How?” Irileth asks, and when Astarion only looks at her in a blank panic, she adds, “How are you even alive? The sunlight—you should be ashes.”
She thinks particularly of how he looked in the Grove yesterday, the fading light of the dying sun glowing on his skin. (Beautiful.)
“The tadpole.” He is quick to answer her, eager to appease. “It—I don’t know. Liberated me. None of the old rules apply. I can walk beneath the sun, cross running water, enter a home uninvited! None of this was possible before nautiloid, not in—” Astarion pauses, breath leaving his lips in heavy pants. He swallows, licks his lips. “Not in nearly two hundred years.”
Gods above. All of Irileth’s lived experience comes from the last five days; she can’t imagine two hundred years, especially not in the dark.
“It’s not what you think—I’m not some monster,” he continues, growing quieter, though more persistent. His hands close around air, as if he means to touch her again, but abstains.
Monster. A strange choice of words. Irileth has come to learn a lot about those, certainly enough to know that Astarion is not one of them.
 “I feed on animals. Boars, deer, kobolds—Whatever I can get. I’m just too slow right now. Too weak.”
Weak is not a description Irileth would have associated with Astarion. He is too cunning by far, but she sees it now, what he means. He is gaunt, eyes shadowed, and lips wan. How had she not noticed it sooner? 
The answer is simpler than she’d like to admit.  Astarion did not want her to see it, and she was only too eager to believe in the vision he placed before her: he was a beautiful man to play with. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Please,” Astarion whispers when her silence persists for too long, and she feels ashamed. “Trust me.”
Irileth feels it then, the tadpole in her brain straining toward the connection he casts to her. Her resolve against him falters, and she is touched by a sudden foreboding. He looks… haunted, and Irileth isn’t sure she wants to know why.
“You don’t want that,” Irileth tells him, and Astarion shakes his head with a wrench.
“You know we are beyond that.” He swallows thickly. This, even more than the blade in her hand, makes him vulnerable. “I need you to understand.”
(Ah. But he cannot say it aloud. Not yet.)
So she accepts him in.
Her tent falls away, and Irileth’s vision splinters. She is herself, as Astarion discovers her, in a strange red soaked room, and she is him, alone in the dark.
Cold, grey stone grates against his skin as he slumps against the wall, body bruised and aching. Red eyes glare at him from the shadows and he can feel their malevolence. He is helpless (always) as his body moves beyond his will, because it does not belong to him, because it has not belonged to him in centuries, because it will never belong to him again. He kneels and bites and bleeds and screams and sucks and moans and touches when and where they want him to, the souls he lures back for Master.
There is a rancid taste in his mouth, rotting meat and spoiled blood. There is skin and there is spit and he chokes and gags on all of it. It never ends.
There is pain and there is agony. The skin of his back rends and splits but so does the rest of him. It aches, it always does, and beneath it all lies a sharper pain: a hunger— the hunger that does not wane. 
For so long, there are only rats. Knotted tails, an inescapable writhing mess, a throne of suffering atop which sits a rat king.
But then! A bloom of purple, his eye twitches, and he is free at long last. He is terrified. He rejoices! He must never go back. In the wilderness, there are deer, and squirrels, and boars. But still, it is not enough. He is weak, so, so weak, for this is a blood curse and it cannot be quenched by simple things.
There is a woman, a half-elf drow, with hair white like his, eyes red like his, and a neck, not scarred like his. Here, he hesitates because there are rules of his house, four of them and the first—
The illithid connection snaps, and Irileth heaves, tears crawling down her face. She isn’t sure who ended it, her or Astarion, but they look equally harrowed. She saw into his mind, he must have seen into hers, and now, there is no going back.
Astarion speaks first, his voice so soft. “You were on an operating table—”
“Don’t,” Irileth bites out, squeezing her eyes shut and hastily wiping at her cheeks. She felt it, beneath her back. That was enough. Around the hilt of her blade, she digs her fingers into the moth-eaten fabric of her bedroll, reminding herself that it is still there.
“That’s all I saw,” he says quietly, like an apology.
Irileth wants him to stop. Her skull is throbbing like it might split, split like she knows it has before, countless times on that table. She trembles. Breathes. It’s not so much a vision but a vague sensation that she recalls, and soon enough, it slips away, oozing from her pockmarked brain. 
The memories that remain are Astarion’s, suffering-soaked. What she saw was terrible, she can only imagine… No, she can’t. For Irileth—she, who has only lived for a matter of days—it is unfathomable, that he could have survived two hundred years of torture, starvation, and ownership.
“Thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures,” she rasps, and Astarion goes still.
“No,” comes his response, icy and resolute—no, insistent. “He doesn’t control me. Not anymore.”
Irileth puts her blade aside, moving so carefully so as not to startle either of them.
“No,” Irileth agrees. “Not anymore.”
They are silent for a moment, reeling and sensitive. Irileth wants to cast her eyes down in shame—she should have never seen what she did, or rather, Astarion should never have had to show her. But she knows that not looking at him will only bring more humiliation, and he has suffered enough.
Then, she asks, “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“You saw it.” Astarion’s response is clipped, once more measured and composed. “I spent two centuries under someone else’s control.” He exhales sharply, and casts about, as if looking for the thing to which he assigns his blame. But there is only her tent, and within it, the two of them.
“You can see why I didn’t trust you at first.” Astarion says slowly, and the rigidity in his brow eases some. His expression turns earnest once more, imploring. “But I do now. I trust you. And you can trust me.”
Irileth weighs his words, the value of his trust. Weighs hers as well. She’s not sure it amounts to much, but it’s enough.
He was right—he is too weak right now, and she will need him strong for their next fight, and every one that follows. So, she will trust him tonight. More than that, she will help him because she wants to and because no one else ever has.
“Alright,” she says at last. “Okay.”
“What?” Astarion looks stunned. It makes him look younger somehow, rounded eyes and slackened lips. 
“I said okay,” Irileth repeats, pushing her hair behind her ear. It exposes her neck to him, and she doesn’t miss how quickly his attention shifts there. “I trust you.”
She will have him, teeth bared, at her throat. The idea doesn’t scare her nearly as much as it should.
“Really?” Astarion is still dumbfounded. He waits, doubtful, until Irileth nods and beckons him closer. “Of course.”
He shifts toward her, placing one hand on her shoulder to guide her back onto her bedroll, but Irileth resists, gripping his wrist. “No. I—Not on my back. I want to sit.”
Irileth looks away, wilting beneath the weight of his gaze, but Astarion only murmurs, “Whatever you’d like.”
He shifts behind her, his knees bracketing her hips, and gathers her hair to amass on one shoulder. His fingers are cool as they press against the underside of her jaw, tilting her head aside. He exhales and Irileth feels his breath ghost along her ear. “Just like that.”
Irileth breathes deeply, her heart finally starting to race as she feels Astarion lean in. His chest meets her shoulders and the hand that guided her head spreads across her collarbone, fingers splayed. Oh, she feels a bit dizzy now, mouth suddenly dry as her dark compulsions rear their heads in contemptible interest.
How her veins throb, so full with her cursed blood! What ecstasy awaits! It is sure to be rapturous, the slow draining of her life’s essence. She will walk to the brink of sweet death and return, just as she has always done.
Pull yourself together.
“You can’t kill me,” Irileth whispers.
“I won’t,” Astarion promises, his thumb brushing over her gooseflesh in comforting strokes. He misunderstands her.
Astarion’s breath is ragged in her ear and Irileth braces herself in agonizing anticipation. She presses her thighs together, a pleasant warmth spreading between them because of course—of course!— there is desire, too. This is Astarion behind her, with his hands on her throat. The man who croons in her ear and caresses her arms and mouths at her palm like he would eat out of it if she offered. The want she feels for him is pure in comparison to all other feelings, still tender and uncertain in its newness.
But Astarion still doesn’t bite. Instead, his lips meet her skin, mouthing at her neck, kissing it, and this time, it is nothing like the way he kissed her palm, chaste and coy. His tongue bushes over her pulse, and Irileth hisses a sharp breath between her teeth, even as a spark of alarm crackles through her (you don’t have to do this).
���Astarion, ” she pleads.
“Yes.” His voice is rough and his hand becomes firm on her chest. It makes her go molten.
(The urge can hang. She wants.) 
He bites her.
It hurts. Irileth gasps, her hands holding onto the bedroll beneath her in a white knuckled grip as her scalp prickles with a sudden surge of adrenaline. Astarion muffles a groan against her and a hot rivulet of blood bubbles out from beneath his mouth, trickling down her clavicle. The first swallow he takes is audible, and a sound of wounded relief stutters forth. Irileth’s vision blurs as Astarion pants for air, then suckles her skin once more, teeth biting deeper.
His other hand releases her hair and he holds her—clings to her—at her ribs. Irileth sags against him and her mind hazes over; the thoughts begin to trickle out of her head, one by one, and so do her violent delights, in perfect time with each pull Astarion takes from her neck.
It is only when her body starts to feel the weight of the sky bear down on it that Irileth forces her fingers to release the weathered fabric beneath her and presses her palm into the inside of his knee. She speaks his name once, then twice when he does not respond, and Astarion seems to come to. He makes a startled noise, and Irileth thinks dimly that she has quickly garnered an entire library of sounds Astarion has made into her ear that she never wants to forget. 
With shocking gentleness, he retreats from her neck, mindful with his teeth so her skin doesn’t tear on them. Irileth shivers as his tongue passes over the wounds one final time.
“That was…” He sounds overwhelmed, exhilarated. “That was amazing.”
He sounds happy. Irileth is pretty sure he says as much, though her thoughts are hard to keep track of. She, in turn, feels at peace. She’s more exhausted than she has ever felt, but she thinks that her brain has been so thoroughly sapped, there is not a chance her dreams will return tonight.
Irileth becomes aware of the trickle of blood that streamed down her clavicle, and reaches for it. She intends to wipe it up with her finger but miscalculates and winds up dragging her entire hand through the thin trail of blood. Irileth holds her hand up, inspecting it with muddled interest, the red smear that stretches from the tip of her middle finger to the weak pulse in her bluish wrist.
Then she raises her arm higher, presenting her hand to Astarion.
“Oh!” He hums in amusement, and Irileth can feel the sound of it vibrate in his chest, reverberating through her back. Astarion takes her wrist, cradles it, his thumb brushing over the thin skin of her inner arm. Tracing her veins. “Why, you sweet, generous thing.”
It takes some effort, but Irileth looks over her shoulder at him. Her neck throbs dully in protest, though she ignores it. The slight pain is absolutely worth it for the vision of Astarion’s face. The change is subtle, but it seems significant to her: there is a newfound clarity in his red eyes, and a delicate pink flush has crept across his cheeks, blooming in his lips.
Astarion searches her face for a moment more, seeking confirmation, perhaps. “Well,” he says at last, bringing her hand to his mouth. “Waste not, want not.”
Irileth sighs, pleased, as she is presented with yet another sight she wants branded into the forefront of her memory. His eye teeth gleam white, and Irileth glimpses his tongue as he licks and mouths at her stained hand. When he’s finally done, he carefully sets her arm down, content.
“Good?” Irileth asks a few moments later once she has finally mustered enough strength to sit up on her own. Astarion’s arms slide away from her and Irileth instantly misses their weight.
“‘Good?’” he echoes, laughing lightly in disbelief. “That was divine. And you? How are you feeling? Not about to put our dear skeleton to the test with a little resurrection, are we?”
“I’m fine,” Irileth replies, drowsy. “A little rest is all I need, I think.”
“Visit our dear cleric in the morning,” Astarion tells her. “I’d rather not have to flee the mob if you suddenly drop dead.”
Irileth raises her brows. “You want to tell them?”
“Gods, no.” Astarion shakes his head, then reaches toward her. Irileth leans in, anticipating the touch of his skin, but he only brushes her hair aside with a casual sweep. “But we can’t exactly hide that, can we? Though maybe the wooden stakes will come out anyway.”
“They won’t.” Irileth’s voice is overtaken by a sudden ferocity. “I’ll make sure they know I let you.”
There is a heavy silence, then:
“Will you?” Astarion asks, once more surprised. Tonight has been an evening of revelations for both of them. But he seems to answer his own question and nods. “Ah. You will.”
Then, he starts to rise, dusting off his knees. “I should let you rest. I need to find something else to sink my teeth into.”
“You’ve not had your fill?” Irileth questions, incredulous.
Astarion grins, that familiar glint in his eyes. “Positively delicious though you were—and you truly were—I need something a little more… substantial. Wouldn’t want to drain you dry, darling.” His smile gentles and, Irileth thinks, becomes more genuine. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Astarion pushes her tent flap aside and starts to depart, but then he pauses. Irileth watches the muscles in his neck flex as he swallows and she cannot help but wonder if his mouth still tastes of her.
“This was a gift, you know,” he tells her, glancing back. “I won’t forget it.”
He disappears and Irileth falls back onto her bedroll, turning onto her side. That was… She will need to process all of that later, for her mind is too sluggish to form coherent thoughts. Her neck throbs, but the ache is pleasant. With each pulse, she can still feel Astarion, drinking deeply.
As she closes her eyes and sinks into a blessedly dreamless sleep, she notices with deep satisfaction that her bedroll smells like him. Bergamot, rosemary, and brandy.
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lorz-ix · 8 months
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A short and sweet video I wanted to share with people because I think it portrays a sentiment and a conclusion that really resonated with me. If 7 minutes is too much, at least skip to the final chapter at the 6 minute mark.
A couple of things: we could talk about consumerism, how collecting sometimes devolves into spending more and more money trying to chase a high that you can't get anymore, how these things can cost a lot of money just to get one item. But that's just being a party pooper, because the point I'm trying to make hopefully is unrelated to specific "buying this thing from my childhood that's unreasonably expensive now".
I really liked the "life wasn't better back then because the world was a better place, it was only that way because being a kid is simple" message at the end. As kids, everything is new and so it blows our minds, because we're constantly discovering things, and it's not easy to get that sort of feeling as we grow older. But I think it's important to stay in touch with our inner child, and to remember how to have unapologetically childish joy and glee for the little things in life every now and then. Growing up doesn't mean you can't enjoy things anymore.
I'm going through a bit of a "rediscovering toys and games from when I was a kid" phase, fully allowing myself to be fascinated by the simplest and smallest things. I'm really obsessed with those tiny playsets from the 90s and early 2000s that have tons of little details crammed in. Absolutely losing my mind at how many play features this original Space Jam thingy had. You can shoot hoops and recreate several scenes from the movie. I know I had it, I hope I can find it at my parents' place.
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Similarly, I am a bit of a board game enjoyer, and one of my childish preferences is seeing games with tons of moving pieces, miniatures, dice and cards. But sometimes you have to leave aside all these high strategy games and call your mates to have a few rounds of the tumblin' monkeys game. These "physical skill with some luck" games for kids might be the most fun you've had in months. Again, it's good to know how to enjoy the small, simple things, especially if you're sharing them with someone special.
To reiterate, you don't need to hop on ebay and spend 200 dollars for something you were never allowed to have as a kid. Not everything needs to be about closing a chapter in your life from a decade ago. Sometimes going through your box of old toys and games is enough to have a grand old time, and perhaps learn how to notice new little things that you hadn't discovered yet.
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skellebonez · 3 years
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Could we have more overprotective dad Macaque from Winter Cursed au? Perhaps with 7 and 14?
You asked for Overprotective Dad Macaque, but you also get Incredibly Worried Son MK to go with that! @winterpower98 fuels my DadMac fills so much. (There are some callback references to older fills for this au but none need to be read to understand this)
Stop acting like a child!/Am I scaring you?
They sat in silence for longer than they had since returning from their little adventure. The one Macaque had started in the first place. It almost felt like they were back there again, close to the end, after the truth came out and they sat with Sun Wukong around a fire as they rested for the end to it all.
Except they weren't there again. They were on the sand covered shores of Mount Huaguo, a few small monkeys surrounding them now that the air between them had calmed.
MK had been playing with some of baby monkeys on the island while the Monkey King was off doing... well, something with the rest of the older monkeys. He wasn't entirely sure what it was, maybe he was just taking stock of their health, but the younger ones were getting bored once Wukong had finished apparently and MK arrived just in time to help by keeping them distracted since Macaque had no patience for that himself and had wandered off long ago.
And keep them distracted he did! He did such a good job that he had kept himself distracted and hadn't noticed they made it to a portion of the beach shore that had sharp rocks.
Until he ended up falling and nearly got a face full of sharp rock (and as tough as he was that still would have hurt), only to be saved by the firm grip of Macaque grabbing his jacket and yanking him back to his feet.
MK barely managed out a thank you before Macaque laid into him. He'd never seen the immortal monkey quite like... this before. And he'd seen just as many sides of this man as a set of dice. It was less like he had seen MK nearly trip and fall and more like he had saved him from being maimed by the latest demon of the week because he wasn't taking the fight seriously. He was angry, but under that anger was a clear current of worry and... fear. And he looked tired, so tired.
It wasn't until he had tried to ask him what was wrong and Macaque yelled "Stop acting like a child!" at him, scaring away the monkeys that were on his shoulders the whole time, that the immortal seemed to realize what he had been doing. His eyes widened, and he covered his face with a groan (MK noticed his hands were shaking then) and... apologized.
That wasn't anything MK expected to hear from him. And it was worrying.
Eventually MK managed to coax Macaque into sitting down on ground, the elder almost stumbling a bit in the process, before he removed his headband and let his messed up hair down. He sat in front of him, his intentions clear and picked up immediately as Macaque groomed through his hair with a half growl in his throat.
Something was... well, he didn't want to say "wrong". But that's what it felt like. This felt wrong. It didn't take a genius to tell Macaque had been acting odd the last few weeks. The immortal monkey looked tired all the time, as if he never slept... to be frank, MK was starting to believe the only times he did sleep were when he has been caught by Mei dozing off before she arrived for training with his caffeine fix.
But that wasn't the only thing.
"Am I scaring you?" MK asked after a while, kicking at the sand they rested on. "Is Mei scaring you?"
Had it been a few months back Macaque would have said no, MK was certain of that. There nothing the young man could have done that would cause him to worry at the time. He could have jumped from the tip top of any of the many volcanoes surrounding them and Macaque would have watched him do so with maniacal glee. But now...
"Do you want me to be honest?" Macaque asked, his tone closed off and hard to determine now. The only thing that gave away how he felt was fingers working through his hair more smoothly as his tail thumped against the sand beside them.
It started out small. When they first came back Macaque would generally not be too phased by the day to day life of Monkie Kid and Company, only noting and helping treat and injuries MK got during battles or training.
But then he would take a longer and closer look at MK every time they met up, then Mei after he took her under his wing for "absolutely not training". Then came the day he was treating an injury on his back and saw his scar. The one on the back of his head that was hidden under his hair (he felt Macaque pause for a second when his fingers brush against it, immediately moving to the other side of his head).
He couldn't have been sure whether or not that was when Macaque had stopped sleeping or if it was even related, but that's when he started to notice it. The bags under his eyes, the way his gaze would loose focus as he would lose himself in thought... and then much later the way he seemed to jump at things that weren't there. MK had his share of sleep deprivation in the past and if Macaque was as bad as he thought the monkey was... he was almost certainly experiencing hallucinations.
"I do," MK said firmly, wrapping his arms around his knees as he watched a pair of baby monkeys tussle in front of them. He leaned back a bit with a wince when Macaque caught a particularly bad knot in his hair. That must have come from the grip one of the baby monkeys had on him. "After everything we've been through? I'd prefer honesty." There was a flinch from Macaque behind him, judging by the thump of his tail and the way his knees hit MK's back it must have been a full body flinch. MK immediately felt bad. "Sorry... that was a bit of a low blow."
"Not unwarranted," Macaque sighed out, wrapping MK's headband around his forehead and tying it back up with more care than he treated the knot in his hair. He went silent, rubbing his eyes and looking for all the world an absolute wreck. He needed to sleep, clearly, but was fighting it off even now. "...Kid it's... complicated."
"Everything about our lives is complicated," MK replied, turning in time to see one of the monkeys he had carried to the beach jump into Macaque's lap for a grooming session of their own. He couldn't help but smile as he complied, grumpy expression set on his face as he went through the motions. "You don't have to tell me everything, not even eventually. Even I have things I don't tell anyone else."
Macaque looked up at that for only a moment, but his ears raised in indication that MK had his full attention. "I don't doubt that for a second, somehow."
"Just... is it something I did?"
"No," Macaque said quickly, shaking his head and scowling deeply. "No, Kid, I swear it's not anything you did. Or are doing. It's all on me."
"So Mei and I aren't scaring you, but you're scared for us," MK guessed, watching Macaque's face twisted in surprise and frustration. "Am I right?"
"Sometimes I forget how smart you are..." Macaque muttered, and MK clearly wasn't supposed to hear that. He pretended he didn't.
"I can promise to be more careful if you promise to try to sleep tonight," MK offered without missing a beat. "You don't have to worry about me so much if I'm more careful, but I'm worried about you too. You look..."
"Half dead, yeah, Peaches has made that very clear," Macaque said with a chuckle. But he nodded, tossing the baby monkey in his lap up to a nearby tree branch they caught with ease and watched them scurry up and up until they found one to settle down on. "I can't promise I will... but I can promise I can try."
"Trying is great."
Macaque didn't even get the change to "try" to sleep, as he moved to the base of said nearby tree and asked MK about his last few days. He didn't make it 5 minutes before dozing off, but MK didn't stop talking.
He wasn't sure if Macaque had passed out from exhaustion or if hearing the mundane actions of daily life with no demons around assured Macaque he had been alright and would be alright for a while. Overprotective Papa Monkey not needed for now. But just in case it was the later he went on and on, monkeys eventually surrounding them to listen as well.
If Macaque looked more relaxed than MK had seen him in a long while, and if he seemed to smile a bit in his sleep when MK accidentally called him "Pop" again... that was their secret for the day.
428 notes · View notes
kithtaehyung · 3 years
Text
Last November (M)
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title: last november (m) post date: december 14th, 2020, 8pm est  ⤷ revamped/extended: march 27th, 2021, 10pm est pairing: seokjin x reader(f) genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers au summary: you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place? warnings: angst, bad puns and jokes, mutual pining, light dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m/f receiving), nipple play, hair-pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, spanking, creampie, seokjin is a consent king, did i say angst?, did i also say bad puns and jokes? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ AO3 word count: 23.7k 24.7k !!
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On the last Friday of every November, your group of friends piled into two cars and set off into the mountains. 
Ever since you all graduated from high school years ago, everyone branched off into their individual, intricate walks of life. Different towns, different jobs, different social circles. 
But before those grand adventures started, each of you promised one thing: a yearly trip to keep the friendship alive.
This time around, you happened to be in the “decidedly more fun” car as Jimin, Taehyung, and your longtime friend Rin jammed the backseat with singing and road trip games. Since Seokjin took driver, you claimed navigator, leaving the front of the vehicle a bit muted compared to the other half. Which was fine - you always loved relaxing on the sidelines while your friends played with chaos and hilarity. 
Namjoon kept you company from time to time, too, so you weren’t completely alone in your preferred space.  
The only thing that could’ve made the ride awkward was if you and Seokjin were on bad terms. 
It wasn’t every day you found yourself sitting beside your ex, after all. 
But that simple fact didn’t phase you. The truth was that your breakup was clean and painless - a massive relief to your friends. Back then, it would have torn everyone to pieces picking sides. 
The split was so organic that you couldn’t recall an awful reason why it happened. Separation proved as natural as the changing of seasons: you had moved away for university and he powered through his own medical pursuits. Over time, the relationship simmered to a text every few days, resulting in the night in which you decided that it was better to remain friends.
What sucked was the fact that, over the course of time after the breakup, you fell for Seokjin. Annoying, charming, incredible Seokjin. 
You didn’t come to terms with it until last November, when you watched his eyes sparkle under an indigo ocean of stars and it just clicked. Agony carved into your heart some nights when you thought about nothing else, but you couldn’t admit your feelings. Not when you two decided that your river had run its course. You couldn’t risk smothering the last embers of your relationship, so radio silence remained your lonely swan song. 
Of course you wanted to admit it. You wanted to tell him. Because no matter who came after, they all fell short. Every smile flashed your way, every pair of arms wrapped around your torso, every night spent between the sheets. Nothing compared to what you got from Jin. That man created a hole in your heart that lingered in his wake, a hole through which all of your subsequent relationships plummeted. 
The truth was simple: you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Even if what you two would always be was just friends, that endgame was enough for you.
At least, that’s what you told yourself. Every night when you couldn’t sleep, and every morning when you woke up to an empty bed.
Your vision snapped into focus as your phone screen bloomed. The maps app signaled for a turn, so you relayed the direction to Seokjin, who repeated the direction out loud before following through.
Just like always.
The road in front of you melted into a different scene entirely as you recalled why he started that habit. It sprouted from one of your car rides to a diner situated on the other side of your hometown. 
During the drive, you did your best as navigator, but your boyfriend was so into the music playing that he missed some turns. One errant right later had you both terribly lost, the surrounding area swallowing the car in darkness. On instinct, you dove into defense mode, trying and failing not to outright panic.
“My maps won’t load,” you stuttered, hitting the screen with your finger, “Shit, shit, shit.”
“Don’t worry, I can just—”
“Don’t tell me not to worry,” you bit out. “Let’s just get out of here.” You hated how pure paranoia pricked at the corners of your eyes. Getting lost was completely irksome and going back home was more appealing to you than moving forward with the date. 
“Okay. I won’t,” Seokjin assured you, turning the wheel and rolling the car out from the shadowy street. “How can I help instead?”
“Oh, umm.” With grateful eyes, you stared at your boyfriend and admired his consideration. You’ve never been asked that while upset before. “You could, uh, repeat the directions before following them? That might help.” 
His lips curved into a smile, and streetlights flooded the car to bathe his sincerity in a warm glow. “Repeat directions, you got it.”
The memory faded as you blinked and observed the endless mountain range enveloping the road. Snow topped the summits in white caps; coniferous trees swallowed the steep slopes. As if reminiscence clogged your ears, the music in the car seemed louder outside your broken reverie. 
Taehyung, as always, took charge of the aux. He usually had an eclectic mix of tunes on rotation but, that time, nothing but upbeat Christmas music was queued. You had to admit: merry music coating the car windows and mountainous scenery claiming your entire vision put you in the best mood. 
It was even better when Seokjin sang along. You really did like his singing voice. 
“I like my singing voice, too.” 
Your eyes snapped toward the driver, expression freezing over as you drank in his delight. Did you really say that out loud? You knew Seokjin enough to know that he was never going to let that go. 
“Yeah, well…” You lazily swatted his grin away. “Don’t flatter yourself.” 
Seokjin chuckled, his hands comfortably resting on the wheel. “Are you offering to do that for me? It’s minimum wage, but I’d hire you.”
Rolling your eyes felt like the only appropriate response, so you did exactly that, your exasperated gaze looping around to land on your phone. “Relish this moment, Seokjin,” you advised, zooming out in the maps app to make sure you were still heading in the right direction, “Because it won’t happen again. And take the next exit. We’re almost there.” 
“Yes, yes, next exit.” You missed the smirk on his face as he scanned the roadside for the telltale sign. “Moment relished,” he quipped, “But I prefer my moments with ketchup and mustard.” 
Your groan drowned in his boisterous laughter, but the hand on your face betrayed you since it couldn’t quite cover up the glee that formed right after. 
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An hour later, everyone had unloaded the vehicles at the campgrounds and pitched the tents. While Hoseok and Jungkook worked on starting the fire pit, Namjoon and Jimin took their time organizing the food and snacks. Rin had disappeared with Taehyung somewhere, but Yoongi said he spotted them taking pictures a ways off. 
“They should be helping,” he muttered. “There’s a lot to do before it gets dark out.” 
Squatting down to rotate sizzling meat on your portable grill, you waved him off. “They’re shot-swapping since it’s golden hour.” 
The silence that followed gave you pause. When you looked up in curiosity, Seokjin and Yoongi regarded you like a foreign language coated your tongue, their struggle to decipher it earning a chuckle of pity. 
“They’re both huge influencers, so they know how to take pictures. They always do this when we get together,” you explained, spinning the kebab onto another side, “And golden hour is around sunrise and sunset. It looks like everything is soaked in gold, and it makes your pictures look pretty. But that’s an old term already! You geezers should keep up.” 
Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow and kneeled to turn his designated stick. Smoke from the charred meat wafted into your noses as he declined, “I’ll pass. That sounds stressful.” 
A rapid clapping of tongs next to your ear preceded Seokjin’s offer, “What are we waiting for? Let’s golden hour swap!” 
Why did he have to be so endearing? A cough escaped your throat, disjointed laughs following right after in their awkward escape. Beside you, Yoongi flung condescension Jin’s way, his voice stocked with disappointment as he warned, “Don’t speak. You age yourself.” 
You transferred your kebabs to a foiled plate before standing, blood rushing to your lower legs. Seokjin was unleashing a hearty tirade at the other man grilling when you intervened, “That sounds nice, actually. I’m in a photography class so I was planning on taking some photos anyways. Lemme just get my camera.” 
As you walked away, you couldn’t escape the abrupt change in atmosphere hovering over the grills, its looming tension caressing the back of your coat in a slight push. The words exchanged were soft in volume, but their possible meanings stayed clanging in your ears. 
“Did you tell her yet?” 
“No.” 
“Do it. She deserves to know.” 
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You slipped out of your tent with a heavy jacket and lightheadedness. Medicine would’ve helped with the latter, but the med kit Seokjin packed remained strictly for emergencies. Besides, you couldn’t quite slap a bandage on what was truly bothering you anyways. 
As you inspected your class-registered Polaroid, you continued to wonder what Yoongi meant earlier. 
What was he implying? You deserved to know what? You couldn’t say the feeling swirling around your gut was a positive one. After all, there was a distinct difference in what a person should know, and what a person deserved to know. What was so important that Yoongi practically ordered Seokjin to spill? 
Was there another person in his life now? That was one thing that crossed your mind, but you filed that under the “should know” category, even though it twisted your stomach to think about.
The news had to be something urgent. 
Was Seokjin getting married? 
Without your permission, vessels in your heart shriveled, squeezing life from your already battered soul. A betrothal was entirely possible with his pursuit of a medical degree and coming from a well-to-do family. Maybe he was in an arrangement? 
That possibility dropped an anvil on your chest. You couldn’t say that you were completely fine were that the truth. How could you be fine with something like that if you loved him? Of course, you would be happy if he was, but your heart would require recuperation for an extended amount of time. Give or take a few years. 
You wandered so far into the depths of your mind that Seokjin’s sudden appearance kicked you back to shore, a yelp leaving your mouth at the same time your Polaroid left your hands. If the camera wasn’t hanging from your neck, you would’ve been in deep shit with your professor as soon as it hit the cold soil. 
Its bulky frame definitely bruised your lower chest on the downswing, though. “Ow. Geez, Jinnie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.” 
Your eyes widened in realization. Jinnie? Shit, you hadn’t called him that since you guys were dating. Quite obviously, the stockpile of thoughts and worries involving his secret were blocking your brain from better judgment. 
And apparently you weren’t the only one affected by that nickname because Seokjin’s eyebrows shot into his dark locks, his peculiar glance shifting away. Odd. 
After an awkward second, he cleared his throat. “Does it hurt?” 
Is it supposed to? You knew he was inquiring about your injury but your thoughts drifted to what hadn’t been divulged yet. “No, it’s fine,” you lied. “Let’s pick a spot before we lose the light.” 
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You don’t remember how long you walked, but the pair of you ended up far from the original campsite. 
In your defense, it wasn’t like you planned that outcome. The trees matched at every turn, so you kept wandering until you found a good clearing - or at least some rocks to break the forested monotony. 
A foil to your pickiness, Seokjin voiced his thoughts every ten paces, his votes of confidence constantly crushed by your boots. If you had a cent for every time he declared a spot “the one,” you could actually afford the Polaroid dangling from your neck. 
It was at a calm clearing with some patches from last snowfall where you decided to settle. 
Unhooking the strap from your neck, you ushered, “Let’s do this quick. It’s almost over.” 
“I wanna do it first!” You thought Seokjin meant to take the camera from you, but instead he scuttled into the clearing, striking a pose once he reached its center. Of course the fool meant that he wanted his pictures taken and not the other way around. How was any other idea plausible? “Hurry up, you said!” 
“The ‘S’ in Seokjin stands for ‘Selfish,’” you yelled, positioning the Polaroid against your eye regardless. His face enlarged in the lens and, to his credit, you couldn’t argue that he was the clear model between you two. The man could pursue a career in fashion instead of medicine and you wouldn’t bat an eye. 
He looked handsome merely standing there, cheeks dimpling at nothing in particular and his charm ever effortless. Even the slight bags under his eyes didn’t take away from his natural beauty. 
Par for the course with Seokjin. That unbothered self-assurance was one of the traits you liked and hated about him. 
At least, initially. The more you got to know him, your outlook on that defining characteristic was one of admiration, not hatred. You simply needed to start shoving some of that confidence down your own throat like a different type of vitamin C.
After a telltale camera snap, the man threw out his coated arms in another pose. “And the ‘Seok’ stands for ‘Seok in my presence!’” 
“I think I’ve been in it long enough. My fingers are pruny,” you droned while lowering your Polaroid, ignoring his wiggling in the background. It seemed you were still accustomed to his ridiculousness. 
Yet another thing you gave him credit for: he was never afraid to be a dork. When you first met him, you admittedly thought he was faking it. Over time, you recognized his authenticity, and you grew fond of everything wrapped in the gift that was Kim Seokjin.
You waited for the picture to materialize in your hand. When your impatient model approached you and asked why you weren’t shaking the polaroid, you informed him that you should, in fact, not do that. “It’ll damage the final product!” 
“So that song is…” 
“Wrong. Yes.” 
Pure shock flashed across his face. “What other lies have I been told?”  
The captured memory started blossoming, and you watched as the color bled into life. “That you aren’t the funniest person on the planet,” you answered, earning a scoff. 
“In that case, you’ve just been misinformed.” Seokjin huffed before offering an outstretched palm. “Now hand over the camera, it’s your turn.”
“Me?” You didn’t think he was serious when he said swap. In reality, you just assumed he whipped up an excuse for you to take pictures of him. 
And you didn’t mind. It was nice to have that charming smile directed at you, even if only through the lens of a camera. The Polaroid would be your shield, blocking Seokjin from the pain swimming in your eyes, barely afloat in pools of regret and guilt and loneliness.
“Yes, woman! When was the last time you had your picture taken?” 
Slowly, embarrassment swelled across your cheeks when you realized it had been a very long time. Legitimately long. You never asked others to take your picture; rather, you were always the one behind the lens. The last time someone actually offered was… 
“When you took one,” you stuttered out breathily, “At that park.” 
It was during one of the last dates you two went on before you left for university. There was a carnival you were dying to visit, and Seokjin surprised you with tickets and a kiss. 
You remember being so elated while traversing through the whimsical booths, failing fantastically at the rigged games, scarfing down sticky, billowy cotton candy. Squeaky horns and childish laughter filled your ears, and you could still feel Jin’s gentle fingers on your hand as he shyly tugged you under glowing stringed lights. 
The main attraction was a carousel keeping everything else in orbit, its charisma shining like a golden, spinning sun. When night fell, you too gravitated toward its charm, standing behind its barricade to watch horses and teacups endlessly turn. 
It was so captivating that you forgot yourself and where you were - who you were supposed to be spending time with. Swiveling in fear, you scanned the bustling crowd for your boyfriend, realizing that you needn’t worry at all. 
Seokjin simply waited behind you, holding up his phone and telling you to pose. You were so caught off-guard in that moment that your face contorted hilariously right as he snapped the photo. In his eyes, it was the greatest picture of all time. 
However, it wasn’t that well received by its subject. You begged Seokjin to delete it, and he finally caved on the grounds that you took a replacement. Conceding, you stomped back to the gate guarding the twirling attraction and pranked your boyfriend with a blank expression. 
But as soon as Seokjin drawled “You look like you don’t care-ousel,” you burst into laughter - your unabashed mirth becoming his background on every device he owned. 
The scene faded from your eyes as the current Seokjin stood in front of you, gripping the Polaroid instead of his phone. Gone were the lights and sounds of the theme park and, with them, your fleeting moment of solace. 
“Oh,” was all he stated in return, and you swore the temperature chose to drop in that moment just to mock you.
“You know I don’t prefer it anyways.” Your heart was losing its grip, sorrow evident in your shaky tone. You folded your arms to shield your body from the weather and unwanted emotions. “I’m definitely not as photogenic as you.” 
“Nonsense,” Seokjin shot back. “Now hurry up, it’s only golden minute now!” 
And just like that, his warmth melted any awkwardness like spring chasing away winter. 
In retrospect, he probably regarded that moment at the carnival differently, or he just wanted to keep those memories in the past where they belonged. It hurt to be the only one so strongly affected by them, but Jin had the right idea. If there existed a standard list of activities to do with an ex, talking about the past wasn’t one of the options. Especially if you had feelings for said ex. 
Plus, you didn’t forget that there was something he had to tell you. It seemed like you were going to have to wait a little longer for that, and your anxiousness wasn’t pleased.  
As you ambled to the center of the clearing, you focused more on the crunching sounds your boots made rather than your feelings. With a quick survey of the area, you surmised that it really was a pretty spot, the mountain range peeking behind the trees adding depth to the setting. Adjusting your outfit, you took a breath of courage before staring at the eye of the Polaroid.
Seokjin moved the camera from his face and called your name, roping your gaze to his concern. “Smile, okay?” 
On instinct, your throat constricted. You couldn’t hide behind the lens that time. But smile you did, and you hoped Seokjin thought it genuine, silently pleading him to not notice the anguish lingering behind your crescent eyes. 
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The fire pit your friends constructed blazed bright as you both made it back to the campgrounds. Everyone occupied the surrounding logs and, judging from the soft pop pumping from a portable speaker, Jungkook must have commandeered music control.
Jimin turned when he heard your footsteps, his expression indiscernible as he shifted his gaze between you and Jin. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only turning back to Yoongi to continue their conversation. 
Seokjin and you parted ways effortlessly: he slotted into the empty space next to Namjoon and you headed to your tent to stow your camera. 
And for some reason, that easy departure was hard to swallow. 
Your pitched space offered warmth upon entry, and you dumped yourself onto your sleeping bag without a word. A few quiet moments passed before you unzipped your backpack, the tiny action feeling so tedious, so difficult to achieve. 
After you finally stored your equipment and closed your bag shut, you just… sat there. Contemplative. 
Mentally, you were in a bad place. Your thoughts and emotions banged into each other, their war rendering you powerless - captive. Fidgeting with the plasticky fabric of your sleeping bag, you thought back to what happened after you two left the photo spot.
It was an uneventful walk back for the most part. The polaroids turned out nice, all thanks to the very rare and very expensive camera you borrowed. Seokjin claimed yours and handed you his, and faced with your sudden curiosity, he sheepishly offered, “You don’t have to keep it.” 
You were more questioning of the fact that he stored yours in his jacket, but you didn’t want to broach that subject. It was beginning to scare you. Maybe it was the fact that he was acting strange, coupled with the other fact that he was hiding something from you. 
Why were you suddenly afraid to confront him? You two were open with each other during your relationship. Were you also wanting to put this dreaded conversation off as long as possible, too? 
If he was with someone else, though, would he still be keeping your picture? 
It was too much to think about, so you tried to lock everything in a box and sit on it. 
You saw the light of the campfire after a few minutes of walking through the woods - a handful of silent, crawling minutes. It was bugging you that Seokjin didn’t say anything on the way back. A quiet Jin was a Jin knee deep in thought, and not in good circumstance. In a moment of weakness, you almost offered out your hand to grab his, but you instead crammed it inside your coat pocket. 
When you both rejoined your friends, it seemed so easy for you guys to separate, like you didn’t just go off and do something so intimate. Even though that wasn’t the word you wanted to use. 
You resigned yourself to the big picture nonetheless: it wasn’t like what Taehyung and Rin did. Your best friend was insanely popular on social media with her carefully curated feed and relatable-yet-unachievable style. Taehyung had his own massive following for different reasons, and you couldn’t deny that he knew exactly what he was doing to gain the hearts of many. They were snapping photos for each other to show millions of anonymous beings across the world. 
You and Seokjin just took photos for each other to have. No one else was going to see those. 
Why did you feel like that was significant? 
The edge of your sleeping bag began to fray under duress, so you plucked your body off the ground and slipped back outside. What you expected was the temperature dipping a couple degrees in nightfall. What you didn’t expect was Jimin waiting for you, puffy jacket and all, leaning against a tree. 
When he saw you emerge from your tent, he straightened and regarded you with caution. “Everything okay?”
You adjusted the front of your coat before fishing a beanie out to cover your ears. “Yeah, why?”
“You were just in there for awhile,” Jimin explained, his eyes searching yours, “And you were with him for a long time.”
“I don’t like being interrogated, Park,” you sighed.
“I know, I just…” He mirrored you and huffed his own breath toward the ground. A quick glance had you noticing that his own beanie was knit as thick as the fog in your mind. “I just want to make sure.” 
Jimin was whom you considered closest next to your best friend and formerly Seokjin. After your break up, Jimin regularly sent you texts to check on you, despite your constant assurance that you were okay. It got to a point where you phoned him and pleaded reprieve - to reach out only if he had something critical to say. 
His broken reply? He only texted you because Seokjin wouldn’t. 
You ended up crying after that call, and the tears annoyingly persisted a couple nights following. 
He was also one of the only two people in the world that knew you loved Jin. Rin was the other, and that’s only because you let it slip during a girls’ night over cheap wine and period piece movies. Something about an early morning confession in a dewy meadow was enough to loosen your alcohol-mottled tongue.
After you ran your fingers over your head, you responded, “Can I ask you something?” 
Your friend’s eyes roamed over your face. “Of course.”
“What’s he hiding from me?”
Jimin instantly clammed up at the question. His dancer frame assumed a rigid position, each limb locking, including his jaw. “It’s not my place to say,” he answered gravely, pulling anger from your center.
“Does everyone else know this secret except me?” You really couldn’t take it anymore, especially knowing that something you supposedly deserved to know was possibly public knowledge. 
“Just the guys,” Jimin divulged, and you scoffed. 
“I can’t believe this.” You made to walk away, in the opposite direction of the campfire. Into the woods again.
Jimin said your name like he just wanted you to understand already, halting you mid-stride. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you. Trust me, I have.”
“He’s a grown man, Park. His decisions aren’t your problem,” you whispered. 
“But aren’t they yours?” 
“Not anymore. We aren’t together right now, if you don’t recall.” You knew you were spitting bullshit, and Jimin did, too. If Seokjin wasn’t giving you problems, you wouldn’t have been hiding in your tent or literally and figuratively walking away from him. Guiltily, you turned back to face Jimin and give him his credit. 
He was this way for everyone in your group: the glue that hung on and fought to keep people from breaking apart. Whenever a fight broke out between warring parties, Jimin was the middle man. Always. 
Sighing, you relented, “I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you. I’m just so confused, and the longer he hides whatever he’s hiding from me, the more restless I’ll be.”
“Everyone is on your side in this,” Jimin replied. “He just needs to, I don’t know, woman up.”
A breath of laughter escaped you at the tweaked phrase, the tension coating your shoulders slowly sliding off in clumps. “Did you say ‘woman up?’”
“Men aren’t shit,” your friend explained, pointing a gloved finger to punctuate every syllable. “At least women get things done.”
“I would totally drink to that if I had a bottle in my hand, Jimin.”
“Ah, well that can be arranged!” The boy’s eyes crinkled as he spun on a heel. “Let’s go. Jungkook and Taehyung brought out the drinks awhile ago. I missed out on a few bottles already talking to you.”
“Oh, I feel so remorseful,” you cooed, your voice worthy of giving kids cavities. “Almost as if I cared.” 
“Ass,” Jimin snapped, but he could only laugh. When you joined his side, he turned and whispered, “But seriously. If he doesn’t talk about it by the end of this trip, I’m giving him hell.” 
The temperature dropped again at that moment, and the wind blowing through the pines cut straight into your bones. Your shoulders hunched on instinct and you blinked to get needed moisture. Was it going to snow? The skies above did look intimidating. Was it going to storm? 
A sudden trepidation settled into your gut. “Did we check the weather,” you queried, shuffling through your brain to see if you monitored it yourself before the trip. 
“Uh-umm, I did,” Jimin answered through chattering teeth, “But I didn’t see anything other than it being cold.” 
You pulled out your phone and regretted doing so, your fingers freezing over instantly. You were lucky you all chose a location that was still in signal range - really, thanks went to Rin and Taehyung for incessantly demanding it every year.
Pulling up the weather app after a few tries, you cursed at the oncoming forecast. “Well, there’s more to it. Snow’s coming in,” you relayed to Jimin. “Let’s pack up and find a place to stay.” 
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The car ride to the nearest lodging felt immensely different than the ride to the campgrounds. Some people focused on defrosting, one person worried about the people in the front, and the two said people in the front weren’t talking at all. 
It was you that broke the silence when you steadily gave directions, and Seokjin would repeat them like always. Selfishly, you wanted the car ride to keep going just so you could hear his voice. He wasn’t saying anything otherwise, and there wasn’t music playing for him to absentmindedly sing along to. 
The first snowfall was light as your caravan entered the small town nearby, which relieved you. Tiny snowflakes clung onto the windows and you lost yourself in their geometric patterns. Lights from the shops and other stray cars reflected in the slick roads to create a symphony of color, and white patches already settled on trees that lined the main way. 
Seokjin spotted the lodge first, and he rolled into a spot towards the entrance, Jungkook’s car slotting into the next space. Your driver rolled down his window and repeatedly pointed his finger down to signal for Yoongi to follow suit. “Let’s go in and make sure they have our rooms first,” he called out, and Jungkook leaned over his console to shout a hearty okay.
You hoisted yourself out of the car and waited for the boys to follow. Seokjin went to stand next to you, but instead of Jungkook popping out of the other car, it was Namjoon that emerged. You could only guess that the youngest slyly started a game to have the loser get out. 
Your stomach turned when you realized it was most likely because no one wanted to be left alone with you and Seokjin. 
Remorse burned your throat. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it just felt strained. Were you overthinking? Or was your churning gut correct in its assumption? 
At the very least, you hoped everyone else was having a better time than you were. 
It seemed that the man beside you had the same feeling that a challenge was pitched. “Rock-paper-scissors? Or nose goes?”
Namjoon just laughed at the ground as his face flushed. “Nose goes, and I put my finger on my mouth so, umm, that’s that.” 
You chuckled while you three made your way to the door, both of them towering over you on either side. Seokjin opened the entrance for everyone and, when you stepped foot inside, you were hit with a wave of warmth mixed with an undercurrent of gingerbread. The entirety of the main entrance bathed in plaid or embroidered throws, and there was an obvious affinity for Christmas on display with the plethora of garlands, lights, and a towering Christmas tree in the front bay window. 
Namjoon and Seokjin quickly got distracted by the toy train running through a snowy village setup. Adorable, but not helpful. 
Alone at the front desk, you received confirmation that your group had four bookings, and you thanked the concierge while you gathered the keys. 
The rooms weren’t next to each other. One of them sat on another floor, and the rest were separated but shared the same level. 
A container of pamphlets caught your attention, so you grabbed one before strolling away. “Guys, let’s claim our rooms. After that, you can watch the train all you want,” you called out, tapping them both on the back with the thin brochure. 
They swiveled their heads to your retreating form before following you out the door. 
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“No. We are not doing that again.” 
“Come on, hyung, it’ll be fun!” 
“I’m with Yoongi on this one. We could all end up in the same room.” 
“But what if you get a room to yourself?” 
“Why can’t we ever just pick like normal people? And Hoseok-hyung, you laugh but you have the worst luck out of all of us.” 
“Excuse me! That’s only because you all psyche me out!” 
“Let’s just pick something. My phone’s almost dead.” 
You stood next to Rin while you two watched the boys decide how room assignments were determined. It was a sight to see: them crowding the small hallway, bags littered around their bulky shoes. You both were thankful they were courteous enough to let you two keep a room to yourselves. They even made sure yours wasn’t on the other floor, just so that you girls wouldn’t be alone. 
They were going to pick random rooms one-by-one, not knowing which options the others picked until they opened a door. If you and your friend also had to choose, you were risking the possibility of being stuck with Seokjin, which was the last thing you wanted. 
On a day where your friendship was actually normal, that wouldn’t have mattered one bit. But right then? The tension surrounding him would have been detrimental. 
He had something to say; he wasn’t saying it. You were a sitting, fidgeting duck. 
Jungkook whipped his phone out to search the internet for a random coin flip generator. “Here. Heads, we do it. Tails, we don’t.” 
Yoongi just snickered in defeat and already started picking up his bag. “I call picking first.” 
His intuition proved sharp as the generator pulled up Heads: they were going with the random room assignments. Taehyung kicked his head back with a sigh, and Jimin and Jungkook burst into laughter while the elders collectively groaned.  
As Rin giggled at their misfortune, you sent a rueful smile Seokjin’s way out of habit. You were still friends, after all, and he seemed so distraught over the prospect of horrid results. His eyes locked onto yours and, for a brief moment, he offered a shy grin in return.
The fluttering in your chest was quickly shooed away. 
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It was while everyone relaxed around a public lounge area that Jungkook hurled an accusation, his eyes alight with the flames licking the nearby fireplace. “Hyung cheated.” 
Seokjin immediately sat up in his plush chair and retorted, “Take that back! I did nothing of the sort. You all were just too lazy to take the stairs to the next floor.”
Taehyung shot him a side eye and shared his own eloquent opinion. “Seems sus.” 
A whole new wave of bickering erupted, and you redirected your attention to the snow storm blustering outside tall windows. 
You were thanking every deity above that you guys decided to leave in time. It would’ve been hell in the campsite during this weather, or even while squeezed into the cars. 
Though the original plans were derailed, you were pretty happy with the current lodging situation. Who knew a small town would have a humongous lodge? It had to be assumed that this was the main business keeping the town running. Rin was absolutely drinking it in and stated she even wanted to bring her family there, her thoughtfulness curving your mouth upwards.
Another good thing that came out of this trip proved to be the room assignments that Jungkook ended up loathing. They had you clutching your sides when all was said and done.
Four of the boys managed to pick the same room, and Hoseok and Yoongi snagged a room to themselves. These results resulted in one Kim Seokjin speeding up and down the hallway, wholeheartedly shouting with glee. Yoongi almost crumpled to the ground in relief at the end, and Hoseok fell over in laughter when he entered the full room. You could feel the desperation in Namjoon’s muffled voice as he begged Seokjin to let him change rooms. The only reply he received was an ominous “If you behave.” 
“Don’t blame us,” Yoongi laughed out, both hands lightly gripping the arms of the rocking chair he chose. “This is what you young people get for trying to be cute.” His relief from only having to bunk with one other person left him chipper, you noticed. To his credit, it was amusing that the youngest four ended up in the same room. 
“Okay, gramps,” Jungkook snapped, earning a laugh from Jimin on the seat next to him. “But she definitely gave hyung clues!” 
You whipped your head around to shoot a confused look toward your accuser. “Me?” 
Multiple eyes darted between you two like pinballs, and you didn’t have time to brace for his next words,
“You know you won’t see him again after this trip, so you—” 
“—Kook!” 
All oxygen abandoned you as Jimin rushed to shut the younger man’s mouth, practically slapping his face. Eyes popped out of his head as Jungkook paled in realization. 
The rest of the boys bore glares into the youngest one’s countenance, but Seokjin turned directly towards you with concern. 
What just happened? Your fingers gripped the varnished wood of your chair as you slowly locked eyes with your ex, and your heart dropped like a stone when he shifted his gaze to the floor. 
What the fuck was happening? Your brain was going haywire. What did Jungkook mean? You wouldn’t see Seokjin after this trip? The man that you couldn’t wait to see on the last Friday of every November? That was bogus. He was joking. It was a joke, right? One more weekend before Seokjin was gone from your life forever? Impossible. Ludicrous.
Why wasn’t anyone saying anything? 
Beside you, Rin clutched one of your tense fists in her soft palms. Addressing the group, her sharp tone demanded an answer when she asked, “What the hell is going on?” 
The silence that followed was palpable. Not even the pleasant music drifting through the lodge was enough to damper the tension. 
“I think,” Yoongi finally murmured, his words ice, “This is our cue to leave.”  
“No need,” your friend snipped, “We’ll go.” She whispered your name before softly tugging you to vacate your seat. 
When you pried yourself from the cushion, it took a moment for you to control your legs to actually move. You knew all the guys were watching you, but you were too embarrassed to acknowledge them, too upset to look any of them in the eye. 
Rin led you away from the lounge, making sure you were heading toward the nearest staircase before spinning on her heel. “To the unfortunate soul that gets to explain this to me,” she bit, clutching everyone’s attention in her underlying threat, “Text me where to meet you in ten minutes.” 
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Both you and Rin occupied the carpet, backs against the cookie cutter sofa that existed in each room. 
You two pushed the furniture around so that the couch faced the windows instead of the plain TV, and you surprised your friend by dumping yourself onto the ground instead of the cushions. Rin didn’t question you, though. She only followed suit. 
The curtains were shoved to the side to reveal the relentless storm, and you watched the swirls and streaks of white until your head fell onto Rin’s shoulder. 
“I should’ve been paying attention to you,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.”
You shook your head, the motion feeling awkward in its tilt. “No, no. You’ve been having a fun time, so I’m happy I didn’t ruin that.” Your laugh was dry. “Until now, at least.”
Rin lowered her shoulder so that you rested more comfortably. “How are you feeling?” 
“Like I’m going through a breakup again.”
Fuck. You didn’t realize until the words left your lips that it’s how you really felt. 
It had been a few years since you guys ended things. Throughout that whole time, you didn’t feel awkward one bit.  
Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The “date” that Seokjin brought to the Christmas party last year made you want to tear your hair out. But, that was because she was obviously after his finances and that was the year you realized you loved him. 
The conversation you had with Seokjin turned sour, but you really wanted him to see the big picture. You could still recall that night with clarity, the snow falling much lighter than what you currently witnessed outside. 
“Seokjin, do you honestly think she likes you?” The red dress you wore was so vibrant that it glinted off the dinnerware spread across the decadent table nearby. 
When you pulled your ex aside that night, the only quiet place you could find was the dining room, long abandoned once everyone got their seconds. Up until this point, it was obvious Seokjin wasn’t understanding you. You tried to tell him how you saw it, and he would just brush things aside. 
“You sound like you care more than I do,” he accused, his eyes looking everywhere but your face.
Before you responded, you scoffed. “I’m your friend. Of course I’m going to care.” 
You remember the strong emotions you suppressed that night. You couldn’t let more things slip than necessary. Yes, you could show him you cared. Yes, you could show him he needed someone else. Just as long as you didn’t give too much of your own feelings for him away. “You deserve someone that at least likes you, for you.” 
Seokjin finally stared back at your stormy features, his eyes filled with something unsaid. You sucked in a breath. What else would he say? You liked him for everything he was, but that relationship didn’t pan out. Obviously. You would’ve been going to this Christmas party together if you still dated. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have been having that conversation - it was already hard enough for you to say you were his friend. You wanted to be more than that. Again. 
“I know she doesn’t like me,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his bangs. The urge to caress his ever soft strands filled you with grief. 
You really did like his hair, and it looked even better when coupled with his Nutcracker-esque attire. 
“Then why…” You struggled to find a reason why they were even there together. It was a Christmas party with your friends. Why would he bring someone that he didn’t like? 
“She’s interested in Namjoon.” Seokjin’s eyes quickly turned into crescents when he witnessed your expression, and his full lips pursed to contain his laughter. “I was trying to get her off me the whole night, but she was trying harder than she needed to to make him jealous. I’m irresistible, you know.” 
“Irritable is more like it,” you growled, playfully shoving him aside. “Ass! I was just trying to protect you and you knew this whole time!” 
“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!” The man beamed as he made his way out of the dining room. 
“Yeah, well,” you whispered, tensing slightly when he stopped. “They have to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.” And you really did mean that.  
Seokjin’s smile faltered, and you shot him a half-smile before exiting the room yourself. 
That was the last time you guys had an argument, if you could even call it that. The rest of the moments you had with him were completely fine. You wondered if Seokjin could see through you during that conversation. He was perceptive, sure, but you may have gotten away with looking like just a good friend. 
It was just worrisome since you couldn’t control your emotions that night. You only got to see him in person during these November trips and Christmas parties when you went home, after all. Seeing him again after realizing you loved him ignited something within you, and it took the whole night to put that fire out.
This looming news just felt way too heavy to handle. Was it because you reached where the sidewalk ended? You weren’t going to see his face in person or hear his laugh out loud. There wasn’t going to be off-the-cuff, awful dad jokes thrown your way every end of November. 
A nagging idea, far in the depths of your mind, kept tapping your shoulder. But you brushed it off with a scowl. 
Even if you acknowledged the concept, there was no way Seokjin felt the same about you. Neither one of you said you loved each other throughout the time you were dating. Were there times you thought you did? Admittedly, yes. Did you ever think about telling him? Another yes. But he never hinted that he felt the same, so it would’ve been awkward for you if it turned out he didn’t. The absence of a confession kept you from revealing yours. So of course even now, you couldn’t tell him. Especially since he was apparently leaving.
Rin didn’t speak for awhile, but you knew she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She was number one at standing up for you and protecting you, but when it came to the softer parts of consoling, she did flounder. Which was endearing and calming in itself.
“How can I help,” she simply offered, and you nuzzled further into her neck. She always smelled so nice, your guardian Rin.
The adrenaline from Jungkook’s bombshell, your swift exit, and the constant stream of thoughts started to wane. Exhaustion slowly took its place like honey sliding into a jar. Softly, your eyelids drooped and you whispered, “This room is a castle, so be my big bad dragon and don’t let anyone in.” 
The last sound you heard before falling asleep was a tinkling laugh followed by a small “As you wish, princess.” 
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When you regained consciousness, you discovered that you were strewn across one of the beds instead of the ground. You couldn’t even estimate how much time passed while you were out, but the storm outside was still thrashing and the only light in the room was the emergency one by the door. 
You groggily propped up weary limbs in search of your phone, eventually swiping it from the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you barely registered the pain meds and glass of water sitting on that same table, their dark silhouettes waiting patiently. 
Bright pixels mocked your drool-covered chin. Scrunching your face instinctively, you scrolled through your notifications while blinking sleep from your lashes. You received multiple texts, but you didn’t want to open the threads completely, so you opted to check them from the Home screen. 
Jiminie [7:20pm]: Fuck, I’m sorry that happened. Please be okay. Love you.
Tae [7:21pm]: free hugs whenever you need. you know the drill. 
Rin-Rin [7:36pm]: I know you said not to let anyone in but I literally couldn’t carry you to the bed. Forgive me!
Yoongi [7:37pm]: He’s in his room. I kept telling him to tell you. I know it’s shit to find out this way so if he doesn’t explain things to you, I will. 
Hobi [7:39pm]: we’re here for u love!! let me know if u need anything. there’s a small concession stand downstairs so if u need smth i can run it up!!
Jiminie [7:40pm]: Kook is in bad shape. He swore he thought hyung told you already. Don’t worry tho. I’m not letting him off easy.
Rin-Rin [7:43pm]: Hey, love. Just spoke to Seokjin. I think you need to talk to him yourself, but only if you feel up for it. 
Joonie [7:45pm]: I gave Rin a bottle of pain meds we had in our room 
Joonie [7:45pm]: Go ahead and take some when you wake up
Joonie [7:45pm]: We can count this as an emergency
Jiminie [8:21pm]: Let me know if you’re okay, okay?
Kook [8:33pm]: I’m so sorry 
Rin-Rin [8:48pm]: Grabbing us some snacks from downstairs, I’ll brb. 
Your battered heart sank even more when you noticed a distinct absence amongst the names. Seokjin didn’t send you a single message. 
What had gotten into him? Did he still not want to talk to you despite you knowing his secret? You clicked your phone shut without opening any of the messages and sunk into the pillows. It was 8:49pm, so you had barely missed Rin’s departure. Her exit was probably what woke you. 
Unwittingly, you found your device in front of your baggy eyes again, berating yourself for hovering over Seokjin’s thread. The last text he sent stared back at you in a mocking set of pixels. 
Kim JokeJin [Thursday, 9:23pm]: Let’s make this one the best one! 
With the previous context, this was just a regular message about the yearly trip. With the right context, these words tied your throat in a knot.  
You were sure you loved him, but what you were feeling now was even stronger. If you were honest with yourself, you would say that this is what yearning truly felt like, what something deeper than love felt like. 
But you were a fool and a liar, so you convinced yourself it was only because you wouldn’t see him again. 
As soon as you were about to give up and lock your phone, the thread updated with a new text from Seokjin, and you stilled. 
Kim JokeJin [8:51pm]: You’re probably still asleep, so I don’t want to wake you. 
You immediately clicked on his message, your anxiousness protected by the absence of Read receipts. The typing bubble kept popping in and out of the screen and, with bated breath, you waited to see if a second text slid into the thread. A hard exhale whooshed from your throat when the second message came through. 
Kim JokeJin [8:53pm]: But I owe you an explanation so come up when you can. 
Fingers locked your phone in an instant when the door creaked on its hinges. Rin entered with an armful of chips and various candy bars, and as you started to get up, she tutted.  
“Sit down, lady.” Packages crinkled as she dumped them onto your covered legs in a processed, sweet and salty heap. “Did you take the medicine?” 
You shook your head, very sure that you looked like a cranky Troll doll. 
“Go ahead and eat something really quick so the medicine will work. When you’re awake enough…” Rin’s voice trailed off, but you filled in the blanks yourself. Go talk to him was what she wanted to say. 
“Can’t you just tell me what he said?” You were hopeful that Rin would save you the pain of confronting Seokjin yourself. In reality, she denied your request. 
“Not this time,” she murmured, “This is something that needs to come from him.” 
You figured as much, but it didn’t hurt to try getting out of it. It was a conversation that you both wanted and dreaded to have. Under your goosebumps, your bones trembled.
If you were frightened by the mere gist of it, how were you going to react to the real thing?
The reality was that you needed the closure Seokjin was offering. You didn’t think this vacation - or your friendship, for that matter - could regain normalcy until you had this talk. “Sorry I ruined this trip,” you whispered, playing with a corner of the closest bag of chips. 
“I’m sorry, is your name ‘Jungkook?’” Rin laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s not ruined. At the very least, it’s salvageable. Maybe.”
“You should be a weather girl with these confident forecasts,” you joked, coaxing a laugh from your friend. You offered a small smile in return, but your heart wasn’t in it. She kinda forgot that this is the last trip you guys would have with Seokjin. If anything, it was doomed from the start. 
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Little striations ran across the door greeting you, shallow cuts skirting up and down the frame. You roved your eyes over the rough texture; contemplative, lost in the mahogany brown expanse. 
If only you were a sturdy tree. You wouldn’t have to worry about any hard conversations in life. All you would’ve had to worry about was possibly becoming a rickety chair for a spoiled brat, or one of Namjoon’s tables that he would eventually damage and lament over. 
With a breath, you finally knocked. 
It didn’t take long for Seokjin’s freshly showered form to answer, and when you saw him dressed down to a plain white shirt and black pants, you quickly shifted your eyes to the floor. Didn’t he know that outfit was your favorite? Your weakness? 
“Hey,” you simply said. “I’m awake now.” 
He nodded and let you in, the door closing with a soft click. When you crossed the room, you stopped in front of the couch, anticipation already caking onto your clothes. There wasn’t much to say on your end, you figured, so Seokjin had to take the lead. 
Instead of launching into topic, he walked towards you and grabbed a bottle from his nightstand. “Do you want some water?” 
You could only stare at the plastic in question. “Did I come here for water, Seokjin?” 
There was a heavy pause before the man planted his offering on the nightstand. “No.” Sitting on the longer side of his bed, he clasped his hands together, blank eyes glued to the floor. “Jungkook is right. I won’t be able to go on these trips anymore.” 
“Why?” 
“I, umm,” Seokjin answered, his words fumbling, “I kinda got into Harvard Medical School.” 
“What?” Your anxiousness was forgotten as you gawked at him. That was what he was holding back from you? All this time? That amazing, fantastic, crazy news? Without thinking, you bounded toward him and crushed him in a hug, careful to not push him back onto the bed. “Seokjin! This is what you couldn’t tell me?” 
His arms remained at his sides. When he responded, his explanation bounced onto your shoulder, “I literally won’t have a life once I start. None of you will be able to see this face, isn’t that enough to be sad about?” 
Another moment of weakness came over you, and instead of overcoming it, you gave in. Your arms tightened around him and you whispered, “No, I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked so hard…” 
There were bags under his eyes for a reason. You knew the nights he got three hours of sleep far outweighed the nights he got more than that. The reason you two didn’t get to see each other was his relentless studying and discipline, and you didn’t want him to have to choose between you and a future career. You both were way too young for those rash decisions. 
It was with this memory that you were reminded of why you broke up: you wanted him to focus on his goals and you would do the same. “Really, I’m so proud of you.” 
Why you hadn’t let go of him at that point was a mystery to you, but you couldn’t seem to stop. The feel of his body against yours consumed you, held you captive even if his arms didn’t. 
But after a moment, you felt strong limbs wrap around your sides and emotion wrap around your throat. 
You don’t remember the last time you two truly embraced. It was a given that the last time you did, you were both completely different people. Both so young. Both so naive.
“Thank you,” Seokjin breathed, his head finally a beautiful burden on your shoulder, “But there’s more.” 
Tension froze your veins, taking the color from your complexion. Of course there was more. There was no way that was the big reveal, even though it was a monster in itself. “Oh,” was all you managed to squeak out. 
Seokjin’s arms gently pushed your body away so that he could look you in the eyes. You already missed his stronghold, but you listened as he spoke. “My parents want me to go back home. To Korea.” 
You blinked. “Even though you got into Harvard?” 
“No, no, after that,” Seokjin expressed with a level of confidence only he could achieve. Like it was inconceivable that he wouldn’t get his doctorate. He then searched your face, the pause holding weight. “So, I don’t know if I’ll see you guys again.” 
The wind howled outside and you shivered as if you were standing out there in the cold. There was so much that you wanted to say, but all the thoughts you had in your head melded together into sludge. Words struggled to leave your mouth. Nothing processed correctly in your brain. 
Seokjin wasn’t joking - not this time. He really was going to be swamped in work and work and more work. Even the holidays were going to be crammed, and you were sure he wanted to use those rare rest periods solely to recharge. 
Yes, he would still be able to text and call everyone, but that would be the extent of communication. He wasn’t big on social media. Even if he was, there would certainly be a dip in his activity now. 
Just like you felt earlier, you really did feel like you were going through a breakup again. Only this time, the last remains of your relationship were at stake. 
You didn’t want that. 
“We’d still be friends,” you weakly offered, wondering if you were just saying that to convince yourself. 
An empty chuckle startled you, and when you looked at Jin, he directed an empty gaze toward his nightstand’s lamp. “Yeah… We’d still be friends,” he repeated, and the way he said that made your shoulders sag. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you. 
“But Seokjin… You should be so happy. I mean, you’re incredible,” you whispered, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest.
“What if I’m not?” 
You sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing what to do. Was he saying that hypothetically? No. There wouldn’t be a reason for him to ask if he truly was. 
How were you supposed to respond to that? Being a doctor was his goal - you were sure of it. If he got accepted into Harvard of all places, then his future glimmered as bright as his charm. “What do you mean,” was what you decided to say. Because you needed more from him than that. 
“You said I should be happy. What if I’m not?” 
“This is what you’ve been working towards your whole life!” It didn’t make any sense. None of this was making any sense. Who wasn’t happy that they got accepted to one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world? “You did everything you could, and now you have something to show for it! We even broke up over this. And that’s fine,” you quickly added at the end. You didn’t want Seokjin to feel bad for that at all. 
“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, wanting to get every logical word out before more irrational ones escaped. “You’ve gotten everything you wanted. You deserve to be happy.” 
You could feel the doors of your heart scraping shut. Even if you wanted to try to be with him again, you would have to give up on that dream. There was no way it was going to work if it didn’t pan out last time. 
Fists clenched, you hated how your heart gravitated towards Seokjin on this damn trip, loathed how your brain produced its own highlight reel. Somehow, they both knew this was the end before you did. 
“I don’t have everything I want, but you’re right. I’ll be happy.” He sounded bitter. Why did he sound so bitter?
“What more could you want,” you blurted, the question materializing between the two of you in bold letters. You were just getting frustrated at this point. 
This was his dream. The ultimate goal. The one thing he wanted out of life.
“It doesn’t matter.” 
“It does to me.”
“Well, it’s none of your concern.”
“I don’t care if it is or not.”
“You really want to know?” Seokjin shot off the bed, immediately towering over your small stature. As your eyes reached his face, you watched as his lips twisted, your shocked features taking in his frustration. “It’s… It’s love, okay? That might sound weird to you, but I’ve realized that all of this is pointless without it. That’s what I’m missing. I want to love again.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his forehead slightly wrinkling under duress. 
The first thing that threw you off was the mere mention of the word. That was so brave of him to even bring it up. With you, of all people: someone he’s dated before. It must have taken so much courage for him to admit that. 
But there was another word in there that stood out amongst all the others.
Again. He said again. Did he love someone before? He couldn’t have been referring to what you guys had. You never once said those words to each other while you dated. So who was he thinking of? And why did it hurt to know that he had loved before and it wasn’t you? 
“I didn’t know you wanted that,” you replied, your voice painfully small. “But I don’t think it’s weird.”
You wanted nothing more than to just confess to him already, but you had no clue what he would say if he didn’t want something with you. The moment escaped like a thief in the night.
“Ah, well, if you knew the whole story,” Seokjin sighed, his breath shaky, “You would definitely think it’s stupid.”
“Why did it end the first time?” You wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe through his explanation, you could find something salvageable. You cared about him - so damn much. Seeing him in a state of utter helplessness seized your heart and gripped it tight. “With the one you… you loved. What happened?”
Seokjin’s indiscernible stare pierced through your soul, his silence screaming that he didn’t want to talk about it. 
And you understood his reluctance. The list of activities to do with an ex didn’t include this as an option, either. 
You felt the steely aftertaste of guilt on your tongue. Maybe he wanted you to just leave him alone already. Besides, you already pushed him to tell a multitude of truths that night. Asking him about a past love life was most likely crossing the line. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, uprooting yourself from your spot to leave. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave you alone.” 
You made it three steps before Seokjin responded, “She decided to end it.” 
A vice clamped your chest. You stood in your new spot closer to the door, eyes boring into the floor. “Even though you were in love?” 
That must have been awful. If you loved him when you two broke it off, it would have absolutely hurt. Very much like what was happening to you now, in fact. Because fuck, were you absolutely disintegrating like a paper on fire. 
“I don’t think she loved me,” Seokjin disclosed, his words tightening the clasp around your lungs. “But I loved her.” 
“I’m so sorry, Seokjin.” Tears brimmed across your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you break. You thrummed with so many emotions in that moment, swept by the current of his words, his heavy tribulations.
He loved someone in the past. You loved him in the present. If only you both harbored a love for each other in at least one point in your lives. 
“That must have been hard.”
“It wasn’t, for the most part.” His brittle words crumbled as they appeared. “I saw it coming.”
You chewed on your lip. Seokjin’s confessions were so full of pain - the amount of love he had for this person was obvious. Looking back on your relationship, you remember your split being mutual. It was mutual, right? There weren't any feelings involved. Whichever other situation Seokjin was referring to had to be sometime after you. 
Maybe it was someone during his college days. But wouldn’t you have at least heard about them through the friend circle? Their name must have just left your mind. You knew Seokjin flirted a lot but he needed to be serious to really start a relationship. This one just sounded tragic. 
“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted sincerely, your chest about ready to collapse, “Other than don’t give up. You can do it. Love again.” The joints in your knees threatened to give out. Telling the one you loved that he could find someone again was too much. Too, too much.
“Ah, yeah. Well.” Seokjin turned away from you in a shrug. Even the back of his profile was perfect. “Thanks for being a good, uh, friend.” 
Friend. Could you teleport to your room and stay there? You couldn’t be the one to give him what he wanted, especially since he was about to be gone for a very long time. No matter how much you wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to. 
You swung around to face the door once again. Critical words almost freed themselves from your lips, but you held them back, swallowed them down. “I’ll always be your friend.” 
Head storming, you commended yourself for keeping your voice level. The tears were able to recede - which relieved you, since you wanted to make it through the rest of the conversation with dry eyes. With one tiny head shake, you whispered, “Let’s get some sleep, okay? I don’t want us to ruin the rest of this trip. Like you said before, we have to make it the best one.” 
Seokjin got up and made his way over to you, and you turned around with a fresh face once you knew he was close enough. The smile he wore was manufactured, but you didn’t want to pry. Instead, you repeated your advice as you both approached his door. Because you wanted him to understand. “Seriously. Don’t give up, you hear me?” 
“Don’t give up,” he echoed as he pulled on the handle, like you were just giving him directions. He stilled for a moment in deep concentration before looking your way. Dark eyes bore into yours and you could almost hear them speak, but he gave one final nod and vowed, “Okay.” 
Little striations met you again when you gave Seokjin’s closed room one last look, and you swore they regarded you with pity. Finally breaking, you let your tears fall the whole way back to your floor, wishing to be made into a sturdy tree in your next life so you never had to feel that way again. 
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The next morning found all nine friends situated in various places around Seokjin’s room. You thought it amusing that the boys never really settled for normal seats, always choosing a table or windowsill perch instead. As an avid fan of the floor yourself, apparently, you were once again plopped on the ground in front of the sofa. Only this time, you weren’t drowning in the depths of your past.  
“Looks like the snow piled up high last night, so we might not be able to use the cars,” Namjoon observed after his long fingers created a tiny crack in the curtains. His argyle sweater blended in with the burgundy fabric and the sight put a small smile on your face. 
The action surprised you since you spent the whole night swathed in a blanket of regret, your arms caging your ribs in an attempt to stopper your bleeding heart. If only you were so bold as to allow a confession to fall from your lips. Three words to solve two peoples’ problems.  
But the risk involved was too high. The hurt following an unrequited love confession would haunt you through every sunrise and sunset. 
Jungkook’s exasperated voice sliced through your thoughts. “What are we gonna do then?” You glanced at him right as he threw himself onto Seokjin’s bed, bouncing the other two occupants  like buoys amongst waves. 
“What we can do: stay in,” Yoongi responded while repositioning himself against the headboard. 
Taehyung’s sigh mingled with Rin’s tsking noise, Jungkook’s deeper groan almost in harmony with the both of them. Their melancholic concerto almost pulled a laugh out of you, but the next suggestion came from Hoseok, “I brought some board games we could play. Cards, too.” 
Seokjin quickly shot him a look. “You don’t play board games. Or games. Or cards. Actually, what do you do?” 
“I look after all of you.” Hoseok’s head always bobbed when he spoke to accentuate his points. “Hence why I brought board games and cards just in case!” 
You couldn’t refute the man’s claims, either. Hoseok always made sure everyone packed what they needed before trips but brought extra stuff in the event that the group needed something else. Helping was just part of his nature. Yesterday was one example. Rin got the snacks last night, but you were sure he would have woken up at any point in time to be your comfort food delivery man. If being a leader were a sport, Hoseok would be the dark horse that you never saw coming until they finished first. Then you couldn’t deny their talent and skill. 
Taehyung didn’t let the dark horse live, though. “Thanks, hyung. Did you pack a snowblower, too?” 
Rin’s laugh could always be heard amongst your friends, but not because she was a girl. Hers was just so distinct and heartwarming, like a cozy throw or the thought of cookies in the oven. It was only slightly better than Jimin’s. 
Speaking of which: Jimin was eerily quiet throughout the whole meeting, his gaze lingering on you more than once. You noticed it ever since you burst into Seokjin’s room and lauded the man’s scholastic advancement. Which couldn’t be helped. No matter how painful last night’s conversation was, you still wanted him to know how proud you were. After all, a person could be sporting a dagger through their heart but still have love to give.  
You didn’t know why Jimin was acting strange. The big secret was unveiled but you would come to terms with it. Was he afraid of how you would be feeling? Or was he just sympathizing with you because he assumed you weren’t exactly fine? Talking to him later to iron things out was going to be essential. The multiple glances he threw your way proved too much.  
“I have a pamphlet we can look through,” you responded, waving it in the air like a white flag. The decision to bring it just in case proved to be the right one, even if Rin threw a small fit from having to fumble through her bag for the room key again. Warmth from the thick hoodie swallowing both your body and your bent legs validated the first time you went back into your room. 
Rin stuck her tongue out at you but smiled right after in her best Sour Patch Kid impression. Cute. You breathily laughed before unfolding the flimsy paper. Shifting your eyes along the colorful pages, you started listing out the lodge activities. “Okay, so we have… Kayaking: no. Lake yoga: no. Mountain biking: no…” 
Even though the lodge boasted a huge amount of things to do, the majority of them required there to not be four billion inches of snow outside. Only a few remained, and majority rules determined ski slopes the winner. 
The only issue with the slopes was that they only allowed groups of three at a time. To remedy this, groups were formed and a rotation was set based on a heated tournament of rock-paper-scissors. And while Hoseok didn’t play board games, cards, or even video games, he seemed to be a pro at that. 
He picked Seokjin and Yoongi for his group, and they were going out first, to the eldest’s horror. You saw his anxiousness coming from miles out - tackling snow with one board was much more up his alley than tackling it with two. 
Next, Jungkook chose Namjoon and Jimin since he wanted to somehow “win” on the slopes. They gave him much grief for that. 
And that left you with Rin and Taehyung, but they wanted to check out the spa area first, so your group was going to catch up later. 
Which wasn’t ideal for you. You wanted to watch Seokjin ski. Or really, you just wanted to see him as much as possible before the trip ended. Seok in his presence, like he said. Maybe being pruny in this case was a beautiful thing. 
Room Service knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Jimin let them in to serve the breakfast Seokjin ordered for everyone prior. While the dishes were distributed, the group was already firing bets and insults and digs at each other as if a clear winner would emerge outside. And you welcomed every bit of their energy. Chewing on food while basking in everyone’s competitive nature was enough of a distraction from your woes. At least, until you caught Jimin deep in thought again.
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The spa was decent, so you three ended up staying for almost an hour. Both the sauna and facial massage served to ease the thick layer of tenseness under your skin. If only you could transport yourself into a cloud of steam every time you thought about Seokjin. Maybe that would’ve helped with the anxiousness and guilt you felt every time you thought about confessing. 
And you were grateful for Taehyung tagging along because he really did offer free hugs often. Even while Rin scanned over the receipt for everything you guys did, the man slung a lean arm around your shoulders. 
His voice glided over your hair when he leaned in to ask, “How did it go last night?” 
You sighed before responding, debating on how to answer him. You decided to take the easy route. “Good. Better than I expected. I just can’t believe it took him that long to tell me! I was so worried this whole time.” 
Taehyung squeezed you gently. “Finally. We kept telling him to just admit it already.” 
Rin was in the middle of paying when you smiled. Her hair gleamed in the incandescents, and you reached out to touch it as you admitted, “It’s just weird that he wanted to hide that from me.” 
“Well, you’re his ex, so he thought it would’ve been awkward.” 
A laugh shot out of you, and Taehyung gave you a look. “Seokjin’s so strange. He knows I’ve been rooting for him this whole time. I mean, Harvard? That’s incredible.” 
Normally, friends would converse about achievements and be sincerely happy about them. But something else happened in that moment that set alarm bells off in your head. Whether it was Rin becoming a block of ice in front of you, or Taehyung slowly peeling his arm off of your shoulders, you suddenly got a feeling that something wasn’t right.  
When Rin spun around to face you, the expression painted on her face reminded you of those Renaissance pieces you saw during one museum date with your ex. Her eyebrows artfully scrunched; her full lips twisted. Was she on the side of the angels, battling demons? Going to war? 
No, she was just trying to clarify something. “He didn’t say anything else?” 
You gulped. “I mean, yeah?”
“What did he say?” Taehyung furrowed his dark brows, his own face a work of art in itself. 
“That his parents are making him move back to Korea when he’s done with his doctorate,” you revealed, suspicious of the both of them and Seokjin now. You kept your tone level to hide any emotions under the surface. “Why, is there more?” 
Once again, you were swept under the wave of confusion. The waters there were dark and cold, and you felt like you couldn’t swim to safety this time. It was as if cotton clogged your ears and a thin film coated your vision. You didn’t even register Taehyung furiously typing on his phone while Rin led you all out of the spa’s reception area. 
“Do you want there to be more,” was all she offered before sitting you down on an earthly toned loveseat. The fluffy rug under your shoes snagged most of your attention. 
“I don’t know how to answer that, but I guess not,” you finally grunted, feeling angrier and angrier from being left in the dark again. Comparable to a disease, this dangerous feeling was taking over you, trickling into your veins drop by black drop. “Honestly, I kinda just want to go back to the room until we meet for dinner. Whatever you guys are hiding is starting to piss me off.” 
“Let’s go,” Rin agreed, urging you to get up and follow her to the room. But you shook her off. 
“I’ll go by myself.” Buzzing with anger, you shuffled through your bag to grip your key. “Just let me be alone for a bit.”
Taehyung looked absolutely livid, but he nodded along with Rin. You didn’t watch the two of them share a knowing glance as you drug your crumpling form to the stairs, hoping pieces of you didn’t crumble off before you reached your temporary bed.  
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From the moment your tired bones hit your comforter, time traveled at a strange pace. You didn’t know how long you spent lying prone on the sheets, your head lolled towards the window. Watching the light snowfall outside did nothing to bring you out of your dark space. 
Being left out, confused, and feeling betrayed left you mentally drained. How long were you going to feel like this? Like you were just going to keep being lied to? Maybe you weren’t outwardly lied to, but omitting something was still considered a lie. The truth was still held captive and you couldn’t even pay it a visit. 
Rin and Taehyung reacted strongly to what you said. That had to mean whatever else Seokjin was supposed to say to you was big. You weren’t stupid. At least, that’s what you concluded. 
But what if you were this time? 
You loathed this feeling. You hated being looked at with pity. Even Rin knew what was left unsaid this time, so you were truly alone in the dark. 
A dark monster within you rose to life, and you ripped yourself from the sheets. Snatching your coat from the couch, you jerked your arms inside, striding toward your door with purpose. A ball of fury, you were determined to march up the slopes and confront Seokjin. Everything was getting ridiculous. 
Tugging the door open, you flinched at the figure waiting on the other side. A brief moment of silence and bewilderment and worry washed over you, quelling a small part of your harbored anger. “What happened to you?” 
Seokjin stood in front of you wrapped in his puffy coat, hair in disarray and a small gash on his cheek. His nose was red with the cold and a small cut, and his eyes looked as if he had been holding back tears. Tears? Was he crying? Even now, it seemed like a few were threatening to fall as his gaze lowered. A ghost of a voice wafted from his mouth as he replied, “Jimin.” 
You winced. Remembering the glances the younger man gave you this morning, you should have seen a conflict brewing. Your friend wasn’t lying when he said he’d give Seokjin hell. Something must have broken out when they were on the slopes, or anytime you weren’t there with them. “Shit. I’m sorry.” 
If you didn’t have that revelation with Rin and Taehyung, you would have been absolutely thrown by Seokjin’s appearance and the cause of it. But it seemed that both groups found out what he told you last night and neither were pleased with the result. What that result was, you couldn’t determine yet. But based on your own categories, “I got into Harvard” and “I’m moving back to Korea” fit in the Should Know box. The Deserved to Know box was still accepting applications. 
“Come in.” Your fury had to simmer on a proverbial stove for the time being. “I have a first aid kit in my bag.” 
You hurried him into the room before making a beeline for your duffle. The adrenaline built while you were fired up was still thrumming your bones like guitar strings. Nothing more was said as your bag crinkled with your rummaging, even though you wanted to just wring answers from his neck already. 
But you couldn’t. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, both the past woes you were fighting and your current worries. 
As Jin awkwardly stood in front of your bed, you kept pondering. What the hell happened out there? How did it end up in a physical altercation? Did Jin fight back? It was already obvious Jimin initiated it, but you wondered if he sported any bruises, too. Not from Seokjin, though. Because you couldn’t ever see him throwing a punch. You were more curious about someone like Yoongi. The elder one was incredibly protective of Jin.
When you found the kit, you spun around to start tending to your ex’s face. “Bed,” you ordered, pointing towards yours with the first aid box. Your tone was harsh, but you weren’t holding it back.
The man was silent as he delicately sat on the comforter, and you instantly noticed how he refused to look at you still. 
No matter. Treating his cuts was a priority, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to force him into confrontation right after. Seokjin wasn’t going to have a choice. 
Perching yourself next to him, you propped one leg up to steady yourself, clicking open the small kit next to you. It wasn’t as fancy as the one he carried along, but it housed the basics. Fetching some antiseptic and cotton first, you told him to turn towards you so that you could start. 
And despite your anger, your exasperation, your frustration, the hands you lifted to Seokjin’s face were nothing but calm. 
Throughout the time you dusted his cuts, you kept your gaze on his cheek, his mouth, his nose. A wall erected around you that you refused to take down. After all of the hurt Seokjin had caused, the turmoil he had put you through, it was pertinent you wouldn’t let him in. You had your soldiers’ arrows at the ready, directed right at his wounded face. 
But if you so much as flitted your gaze toward his eyes, your walls would crumble to dust. Your gates would slam open in surrender. 
Because having him this close to you after all this time was like coming home. And you harbored that feeling ever since the scent of his cologne consumed you. Your face hovered inches from his, your fingers gently pressing his features. All of the nights you yearned to be this close were so lonely and cold, and his warmth was tugging your heart by multiple strings. 
His looming absence was hitting you deeply then. If you gave in only to lose him again, the pain would surely hollow out your soul until you were a mere shell of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress and slip down into the soil underneath the lodge. 
Suddenly, a hand cradled your cheek, and you shook on impact. Without thinking, you locked eyes with Jin, and it was then that you realized he was wiping hot tears from your face. 
“If I’m the reason for these,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.” 
Something strangled escaped you, and you finally caved. “You are,” you exhaled, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You really are.”
You tore yourself from the bed, instantly feeling the lingering warmth of his fingers fade. A chasm was created between you two: your chest heaving on one side and his face crumbling on the other. The mountain of thoughts and feelings you created broke down under pressure, emotions roaring down its slopes in a cathartic avalanche. “I’ve been looking like a fool this whole trip, and apparently everyone is feeling so fucking sorry for me. Why can’t you just tell me everything? What did Yoongi mean? What do I deserve to know? You told me you got into Harvard and have the audacity to say you aren’t happy? What the hell is that about? We’re supposed to be friends, so why am I feeling like you’re letting that all go?” You choked on your tears and clasped a hand over your mouth, a burn blossoming in your chest from the dry sobs. 
Seokjin’s eyes ringed with a burgeoning shade of pink, both of his pupils glossed in guilt. “I’m not… I’m not letting that go, but--”
“But what, Seokjin,” you gritted out, “Please stop and just tell me already.” 
“But I was too scared,” he admitted, “I’m still scared.” 
“Why are you scared?” The question drifted to his face, and you could tell he was struggling to answer even that one. It pained you to be this close yet so far from the answer.
“Why are you scared, Seokjin,” you whispered again, realizing that his hands were shaking. 
“Because…” You watched as he clenched them on his thighs, and he struggled to get the words out. “Because it’s going to happen again.” 
Enough with the obscurity. Frustration reached a boiling point. “What’s going to happen again?” 
“Exactly what happened last time!” Seokjin declared as his eyes pleaded with you, eyebrows furrowed and kneeling in anguish. The skin encasing his watery eyes remained that same dusty shade of affliction. 
You couldn’t for the life of you understand what he was saying, until you remembered last night. When you asked him about the time he loved before. 
Wait.
Your hand made a slow descent from your face as you matched Seokjin’s stare. A million words skittered across your eyes, transforming into liquid and sliding down your skin. You were sure you looked an absolute wreck with your tear-stained cheeks and reddened nose, but that didn’t concern you at all. The only thing you could hang onto was Jin’s words, just short of a confession. 
But you had to be sure. You weren’t settling for five words that could mean a thousand other things while arranged the same way. “The one from before,” you more stated than questioned, “Where is she now.” 
Seokjin never broke his gaze, doing an incredible job of keeping tears at the edges of his eyes. Heavy breaths caused his chest to swell with each pass. Voice low, he finally, finally caved, “She’s the one on the polaroid I have in my room.” 
The entire conversation from last night struck you like a freight train. So many realizations hit you at once and you didn’t know how your trembling legs were keeping you upright. 
It was you. He was talking about you. 
Your coat smothered your limbs like a cage, your whole being rattling inside like an animal starved. 
That was what he was truly hiding from you. That was what he had buried deep down into his chest. And you couldn’t blame him one bit after you realized it was exactly what you were holding from him, too. 
No matter the reason, you still kept your own truth hidden. It occurred to you then that you couldn’t be angry - that would just be hypocrisy. There was bravery in confession, and even more so to someone you no longer were allowed to feel that way about. 
You were the one that forced the truth out of Seokjin, and now you only felt like a coward. 
Movement in front of you snapped your vision back into focus. He was getting up to leave. Why was he leaving? 
“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.” 
Oh. He assumed your silence was from guilt. Guilt that you didn’t feel the same. And he was about to walk out with that egregious misconception. What an absolute fool.
But no matter how hard you tried, the words wouldn’t budge from the back of your teeth. 
You had two choices here. One, you told him. You laid everything out and you admitted that you felt the same. Then tomorrow, he would leave your life and you may not see him again for years. And you tried this before - being in two separate schools and living different lives while holding onto your relationship. It obviously didn’t work last time, and you still saw him from time to time. This situation would be a thousand times harder. 
Which brought you to the second option: you let him go. You let him leave without telling him how you felt. Rip the bandage off right there and then. Leave him to pursue his dream, and with that the freedom to go and find someone else to love. Was that what you wanted? Was this your own sick version of loving him? All the villains in the universe would applaud you as you lied to his face while telling him not to give up. How fucking cruel would that be?
“Seokjin,” you called out, and your chest subtly heaved when he turned to stone by the door. His broad back remained still as you took a step towards him, and only after you roamed your eyes over his shoulders did you notice small movements. But he didn’t face you. It was almost as if he didn’t want to.
Agony consumed your entire being as you made your decision. 
You shut your eyes, clenched your jittering fingers into hard fists. 
“See you at the campfire,” you whispered, your voice unfamiliar even to yourself. 
The only response you got was the soft opening and closing of your door.
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Compared to last night’s lion of a snow storm, tonight was but a mere cub. There were small flakes here and there taking their time to descend, and the fixtures from inside the lodge were the only light source beside the fire pit you were approaching downstairs. 
Situated in the center of your friends, the flames danced across their jovial smiles as they passed bottles around. The drinks weren’t the lodge’s, but the ones you all brought and snuck out of the rooms - the telltale green glass was enough of a hint. 
After Seokjin left, it took you a couple minutes to let everything out, and about thirty minutes crying into Rin’s shoulder once she witnessed your crumpled form on the floor. She listened to your recap of the conversation and Jin’s final secret, and through broken sobs you told her you couldn’t tell him yours. When she asked why, you told her your reasoning. When she called you an idiot, you wholeheartedly agreed and cried even harder. 
But you still stuck with your decision. It was for the best. You loved him so much that you wanted what was best for him, and that was to let you go. 
“Promise me one thing,” Rin murmured, earning a nod from you. “Only go through with it if you know you won’t regret it.” 
A sharp pain sliced through you then, but you acquiesced. “I won’t.” 
She then grabbed your Polaroid from the bed. It was Namjoon’s idea to bring it to the campfire once he heard you brought it on the trip. “Are you okay with this?” 
“Yeah,” you gulped, regarding the old piece of the past with heavy eyes. Seokjin confessed to you with the help of that camera. You weren’t okay with the mere idea of touching it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight, so. Yes.” 
Even if that meant you suffered. This was Seokjin’s last trip with everyone, not just you. Why keep them from making good memories just because you were a walking dark cloud?
You reached the bottom of the rickety stairs, the squeaky noises catching the attention of the boys. Most of them raised their bottles to you, but you caught Jin staring at the fire instead. 
If you got through this night in one piece, it would be a miracle.
Namjoon stood as you and Rin settled into your seats. “Okay. Since we’re all here now, I say we start.” 
As everyone gave their cheers, the eldest just looked confused. “Start what?”
“Something for you,” Yoongi explained, his body already comfortable in his Adirondack. “Since you aren’t joining us for these anymore.”
“Ah, yah,” Seokjin protested, “You don’t need to do anything—”
“Don’t lie, you already love this,” Jimin cut in, all smiles despite the companion bruises and cuts on his face to Jin’s. “Although, your opinion may change in a second.”
Jungkook paused his leg bouncing to shout, “Let hyung explain!” 
You smiled as the group settled, but noticed that Jimin was looking at you strangely. You didn’t have time to process it, though, since Namjoon headed things off while a bottle rested against his chest, “Jin-hyung. We just want you to know that we’re proud of you. Even though we may not see you for awhile, you’ll be in our hearts and on our minds. Starting tomorrow, you’re already Dr. Kim to us, so I say we all call you by name tonight.”
Laughter and claps filled the air, drowning out Seokjin’s weak protests. 
Namjoon cleared his throat to calm the air, and you watched small flakes catch in his hair as he continued, “We’ll each do two things: give you advice, and ask for advice. Since you’re clearly educated, we figured you’d have a lot to say.”
“Oh, I’m just lucky.” 
“And keep sharp, everyone. Miss Photographer over there will be taking pictures.” Namjoon nodded at you, and you gave a short smile while holding up the Polaroid. You were fine doing this; behind the lens was your safe space. 
The boys and Rin slowly got through their questions and advice, and you were shocked by how insightful Seokjin was being. You never truly realized the magnitude of his intelligence. Every person around the campfire hung on his every word, and it didn’t help that you all took a swig after every good point he made - many, many times. You diligently fired away on your camera, making sure to get Seokjin with everyone so they could all have a moment captured with him. 
When Jimin’s turn came, he shot you a glance before looking at your ex. “Jin. That sounds weird to say. Jin-hyung.” He looked at the ground before continuing, and you knew it was to compose himself. “My advice to you… Sorry,” he buried his head in his elbow for a brief moment. Yoongi looked away. 
“I kinda gave you advice already,” Jimin trudged on, “And you took it. So, my next piece of advice would be to, uh, keep going.” 
You were rooted to your chair. Seokjin didn’t spare you a single glance during that exchange, but you knew it was about you. It had to be how he ended up at your door earlier. He even said Jimin was the one responsible for his wounds. 
“Thank you, Jimin,” Jin replied. “As for my advice to you, it’s okay to let people figure things out on their own. You don’t have to put it on yourself to be the one that keeps people together. If something ends up breaking, you’re going to think it’s your fault.” 
Jimin regarded him with watery eyes before nodding and wiping his freezing tears. And when he looked your way, he saw you only looking at Seokjin. Your face was slowly cracking, and the shadows in your facade were exacerbated by the flames. 
It was your turn; everyone else went. The Polaroid felt like a boulder on your thighs.
You blinked before setting the camera down and clutching your bottle. Since Seokjin was on the other side of the fire, you had to stand to see him, your tenseness on full display. 
What could you possibly say in that moment that he wanted to hear? That he was willing to listen to? You were certain you took his heart and slammed it into the ground earlier. It would be better if you just didn’t say anything. 
“Seokjin,” you started, pausing to collect yourself. “My advice to you is to forget the advice I gave you before.” 
Several pairs of eyes looked at you then. Even Jin finally regarded you, the most aware of what you were referring to.
“What I’m trying to say is: it’s okay to give up sometimes, because not everything that you want to happen is going to happen. There will be times you will just have to let things go. And that’s okay. Because maybe letting things go would end up for the best.” 
Jimin’s eyes bore into your soul. He sat so still that it put all the statues throughout history to shame. 
Seokjin grabbed his bottle with both hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Interesting advice.” His eyes danced as they took in the warm flames. “I might even follow it.” 
Both of your lungs threatened to give out at his words. Your hands almost dropped the glass you were barely clinging to, but you never looked away from Jin. It was as if your attention was chained to his body, your soul weighed down by his earlier confession and now his possible break. 
If he followed your advice, shouldn’t you be happy? It’s what you wanted in the end, right? You would let him go, and he wouldn’t look back. 
Snow drifted onto everyone’s chairs and the fire crackled in front of you. A small breath left you in a wisp of white. Warmth did its best to help you, but the cold was too strong. No amount of fire in the world could melt your icy conscience - you truly left Seokjin in the dark. He practically admitted that he loved you, and in return you gave him nothing. Of course he would consider your advice.  
“But I like the sound of not giving up. It has a ring to it that exists beyond the sound it makes when someone says it,” he cut himself off, the silence deafening. Inside, bells rang in your head. What was he implying? Seokjin’s voice was as clear as blue skies when he continued, “So, I guess I’m stealing your advice and giving it to everyone here.” 
Your gaze shifted to the side as everyone turned towards Seokjin. This was something you weren’t prepared to digest. Settling back down into your chair, you tried to even out your breathing and neutralize your shaking fingers. 
Your feelings were warring with each other in a confusing battle. If you wanted him to follow your advice, why were you relieved when he said he liked not giving up? Did that mean you hoped he still waited for you? Years and years and years from now? 
“Take it from me: don’t give up,” he advised. “But what I mean by that is to not give up until you’re happy.” 
Guilt squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your lids down. He was going to wait. Love was the one thing he wanted to be happy. And you held your love for him tightly in your hands, behind your back and hidden from sight. 
But even still, in the midst of your silent rejection, this man wasn’t letting go. Without saying the words, Seokjin was going to wait for you. Because he still loved you. 
This was too hard. 
“To being happy,” Jimin boisterously cheered, startling everyone and causing your bones to rattle. His glass remained high in the air, and everyone joined in with their own proclamations. 
“To being happy,” you whispered alongside the others, quickly taking a swig.
Yoongi was the next one to pipe up as he declared, “Okay, now that all that’s done, let’s just drink for fuck’s sake.” 
Amongst the laughter and “thank god”s thrown about, you quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was your lifeline. You needed more than liquid courage to get through the rest of the night. The camera by your feet was snatched up by Jungkook before Taehyung could get to it, and you prayed to every higher power that they kept it in one piece. 
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As everyone made their way back to their rooms, you noticed Seokjin joking and laughing with the others like normal. It was a continuation of the rest of the night, since after the advice conversation it was nothing but fun. Your Polaroid almost ran out of film, for one, but watching everyone fight over the photos was entertainment in itself. There were digs toward Jin until he turned red, jabs thrown at Jimin’s fragile emotional state, and Rin’s warm laughter coating everything in a soft glow. 
And it was a bittersweet event. There was nothing more you wanted than to capture that moment and place it in a snowglobe. The world wouldn’t interfere with your friends, and none of you would ever leave. 
Seokjin was about to head up the stairs to tuck in for the night. Full of soju and stupidity, you blurted, “Leaving already?” 
He stilled before turning toward you. “Oh. Yeah.” He regarded you with a look you couldn’t completely decipher. “Long day tomorrow.” 
“Right,” you replied, hating the sudden hollowness you felt. Or didn’t feel. 
“Well… Good night.” Seokjin tapped the banister twice before heading up, and you softly wished him good night before speedwalking to your room. You were only tipsy, so the fast trip didn’t bother you. The camera in your hands kept your center balanced the whole way back.
By some strange miracle, you kept it together the whole time after everyone’s campfire speeches. You imagined yourself as an ice sculpture, surrounded by the guests of honor. Everyone gave you a glance and thought nothing else of you. They could only see composure and poise. Only when they got closer could they see you slowly melting, rivulets of remorse cascading down your entire frame.
Rin was in the middle of her skincare routine when you entered your room. As soon as she heard your footsteps, she made a noise indicating she had something to say. The product around her mouth didn’t let her yet, though. Which meant you had to wait. 
You stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, vision spinning just a smidge. This was probably a talk you didn’t want to have, but you gave your friend her podium. It was only fair. Her serious talks were few and far between. 
But she didn’t have much to say when she finished getting ready for bed. In fact, she only said three sentences. 
“It’s 11 o’clock,” she stated plainly, her tone indicating she was done with the calmer approach. Bluntness was more her style. 
“Okay?” 
“We leave at 7 in the morning.” 
“And?” 
“It means you have eight hours to decide how you’re going to feel for the next ten years.” 
Silence. 
All you could respond with was silence. 
Dead air. Sober. You were sober now. In that moment, you may have held your breath for a century. Too many thoughts flooded your brain, from past memories at a carnival to future images of an empty apartment with a bed fit for one. 
It was stark. Blank. There wasn’t going to be a future with Seokjin, no matter what you said. 
But when Rin put it that way, would you feel better if he knew the truth? Or would you keep this idiotic stance and lock your feelings away forever? 
For the third time that night, your fingers rattled. Rin took them into her comforting palms. 
“Go,” she murmured, and she smiled as she witnessed you burst into the hall. 
Your strides were incredibly long as you hurried down the corridor. The doors blurred on either side of your vision, the pattern of the floor elongated with your fast pace. Your camera thudded into your chest over and over. Step after step after step got faster and faster as your anxiousness bubbled into your brain. The last turn before the stairs made you skid, and you rushed up the rickety steps. Your heart was thrumming, scratching at your chest to set it free. 
When you got to his door, you were certain you woke sleeping neighbors with your rapid knocking. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Nothing could possibly stop you now.
You had no plan. There wasn’t time to think. All you wanted was to see him. All you could think about was letting everything out. Eight hours. You had eight hours.
Seokjin tugged the door open, pausing mid-swing when he saw your face. He looked so beautiful. Full of warmth. Like home.
“Jinnie.” 
You didn’t mean to call him that, but you didn’t take it back. You weren’t taking anything back anymore. His eyes roamed over your features multiple times, searching for any indication that this was a dream. But it wasn’t. The words finally slipped from your lips. 
“I’m not following your advice. Or my own.” 
His eyebrows furrowed, but you pushed on. 
“I’m giving up. But I’m giving up because I can’t let you go.” When Seokjin stared at you, it was impossible to look away. 
His response came out in a rush, “What are you… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I love you.” You huffed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Damn it, I— I just love you. I love you so much it hurts.” 
A shaky exhale left you at the look on his face. The quick descent into realization formed in the corners of his eyes, tears pooled at the edges before quickly streaming down his cheeks, collecting at the crux of his chin. Glassy orbs bore straight into your soul in search of answers, of truth. And if he wanted those answers, you already admitted the biggest one, so words were easier to come by.
“I’ve felt this way ever since our trip last year,” you started, slowly inching toward the wreck of a man. Not like you fared any better with the streaks forming on your own cheeks. “And I know it’s the stupidest thing to tell you now since you’re leaving, and we failed at long distance before, but--” 
Seokjin breathed out your name, and his next words would stay imprinted in your mind forever. “I still want to try. And I’ll try as many times as you’ll let me.” 
“I know. I know that now,” you whispered. 
Passion and warmth bloomed in your chest, spiraling out into the far reaches of your limbs. Hundreds of nights imagining him accepting you again didn’t prepare you for this feeling. Nothing was holding you back; your walls came crashing down. 
You finally broke and shielded your face in your hands, and you felt sturdy arms shield you from the world. The cruel, beautiful world that brought you two together right before he disappeared from your life again. You cried, and sobbed, and wheezed. The elation from his confession only magnified the pain of his departure. 
You felt the weight of the Polaroid leave your chest as Seokjin lifted it from your neck. “Come inside,” Seokjin whispered into your hair, earning a hiccup from your chest. “Please.” 
It was only then that you noticed you were still out in the hall. A small nod from you was all he needed to guide you into his room, and your throat constricted at the bags lying open on the bed. 
Seokjin was already packing. Packing while thinking he was going to go through the same thing he went through last time. You felt absolutely sick. How could you even think of doing this to him? If there was a way to make it all up to him, you would do it. “I didn’t want to tell you before,” you confessed, burying your nose into his chest. “But that was wrong of me. You almost left without knowing. I’m so sorry.” 
Strong, lean fingers traveled through your hair as your camera was placed on a table. The heavy clunk it made reached your ears, and a whisper followed. “I didn’t want to tell you, either. You don’t need to apologize.” 
“If I told you earlier, we would’ve had more time. Now I’m just sad.”  
“Look at me.” Jin caressed the back of your head, naturally lifting your gaze. His watery eyes took yours in, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of your hair. “We still have tonight, so if we’re going to be sad, let’s wait until after.” 
“But you’re crying, too,” you observed, feeling slightly better from his words. How Seokjin was able to have that effect on you, you would never understand. 
A light huff from him made you melt. “That’s because I’m so happy,” he confessed, softly laughing again and wiping his eyes with both hands. 
He was happy. Seokjin was happy. You looked at the growing smile under his fingers, and you had no choice but to grin and join in his laughter. 
Not because it was funny. But because it was unbelievable. You were able to gift him the last piece he was missing - he was finally able to find that happiness. How were you about to deny that from him? Now it seemed unfathomable.
When you looked at his hands again, you noticed there were lingering cuts. Worry washing over you, you cradled one in your palms and asked as Seokjin looked at you, “Should I take care of this, too?” Though the man had more than enough knowledge on playground injury care, you still offered because you wanted to be there for him in any possible way.
He replied instantly, “I took care of everything. Jimin, too. You saw him being his usual self earlier.” 
“He said he’d give you hell if you didn’t talk to me on this trip. I didn’t think he would go this far, though.” You reached up to run a thumb along the small gash on Seokjin’s cheek, the blood drying into a deep red. “I’ll make him regret it later.” 
Jin leaned into your touch, causing sparks in your skin. “Don’t,” he whispered, “He’s the reason I ended up at your door.” 
You just nodded and lost yourself in the feel of his soft face. It was incredibly smooth under your fingers, even better than when you held his cheeks all those years ago. To think that this man loved you ever since then, and continued to do so until now, was unbelievable. But it was true, and no amount of words could account for how you felt about that. 
Those eyes overflowing with adoration and affection were solely for you, and diving into them felt like being immersed in sunlit waters. 
“Can I kiss you?” 
The simple question took you by surprise, but you gazed at his lips. They only looked inviting, so who were you to deny him? “Please,” you sighed, and your eyelids closed shut at his pillowy touch. 
Color sprang from your heart at his confession, but heat burst from your chest at his kiss. The moment his lips met yours, every worry wrapped around your conscience snapped in two. Vines of doubt, regret, and anxiety withered under the warmth of Seokjin’s touch. It was cleansing. Powerful. Searing. 
A hand captured the back of your neck, and Jin took advantage of your gasp by dragging his tongue around the edge of your lips, a wordless plea to let him in. You gave in immediately, leaning forward and deepening the kiss, roping his tongue and eliciting a groan. 
Heat rushed between your legs and you echoed his sound with a soft moan of your own. Unwittingly, your hands found their way to Seokjin’s chest and you reveled in the feel of him under the thin material of his shirt. Without breaking your lips from his, you skirted the cotton hem with your fingers.  
Jin knew what you wanted, and his grin against your mouth only made you flush with desire. He broke from your lips to fully remove his shirt, and seeing his bare chest wiped the air from your lungs. You could only stare as you took in the lines of his solid build, wondering how the hell he had the time to achieve that look. 
Seokjin smirked at your reaction, tossing his top and hauling the bags off his bed while you were taking time to process everything. “Do I need to charge you?” 
You shook your empty head like a zombie. Your brain was currently mush, purely focused on the way his muscles rippled and slid against the confines of his skin. “No, don’t. I didn’t bring any money with me.” 
Laughter erupted from the other side of the bed. After Seokjin placed the last bag on the floor, he straightened and clarified, “I meant plug you in. You seem to be buffering over there. Low battery?”
“Shut up and get on the bed,” you teased, shrugging off the coat you still had on. You didn’t even get to change since coming in from the campfire. 
“Shut up and get on the bed, yes,” Seokjin fired back mercilessly as he sat on the comforter. He knew exactly how to push you. Even though you laughed, you made you way over to him and stood between his legs. 
You were silent then. No matter how happy you were, his departure tomorrow was weighing on you. The time you had with him was short. 
You wanted to make the most of it. Bringing your hand up to his face, you made sure to lightly skim over his gashes before mapping the rest. You wanted to ingrain every curve, every dip, every feature into memory. Every second was precious. The polaroid you had of him would still be no match for the real thing. If only you could capture the warmth of someone and keep it frozen in time.
Sure fingers clasped your hand, and Seokjin softly pulled you closer. Your first instinct was to rush in and hug him for dear life, and he immediately did the same to you, snatching the breath from your lungs and tugging tears from your ducts. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent and lamenting all the time you spent worrying over the smallest things. 
“We don’t have a lot of time,” Seokjin whispered, squeezing your heart. 
“I know,” you choked. You didn’t have much else to say.
“I just want to make sure we use it to do what you want.” 
You loosened your hold on him, astonished by his consideration. The growing bulge under his pants was more than screaming his wants. You felt it ever since the first kiss. But even still, he wanted to accommodate you. Your needs before his. 
It just made you fall for him even more. 
Reaching down to skim your fingers along his cock straining against his pants, you hovered your lips over his neck. “I want you,” you whispered before descending upon the smooth expanse of skin and earning a groan. 
Without warning, Seokjin tightened his arms around you. In one smooth motion, he effortlessly lifted you to straddle his thighs. You didn’t have time to think as he followed up with grabbing your head, pulling you down for another heated kiss. Your fingers latched onto his shoulders, scraping them when he thrust his tongue into your mouth. 
“Don’t do that yet,” he grunted, and you didn’t need to ask why after feeling a twitch in his jeans. 
You obeyed for the time being, cupping his neck with both hands. When you rolled your body against his, the hard feel of his stomach made you whimper. It was when you settled back on his hardness that your eyes widened. You were sure he was aching despite his silence. Maybe you could help him out a bit. “Jinnie,” you whispered, a firm hand on his chest, “Lie back for me.” 
“I love hearing that again,” Seokjin admitted through a content smile, starting a fire across your cheeks. He leaned back after giving you another peck, and you plucked yourself from his thighs to take your shoes off. 
But time was your biggest motivator to strip most of your clothes at that moment - not just your boots. Your pants were first, followed by your sweater, and finally your shirt. The whole time, Seokjin stayed propped on his elbows, watching you intently. He couldn’t hide the adoration in his eyes even if he tried. As he watched you stand there in nothing but your set, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.” 
“Thank you,” you whispered in return. “Still not as great as you, though.” You started unbuttoning his jeans before he could defend his stance, and he lifted his lower body to help you shrug them off with his underwear. When Seokjin’s thick cock sprung free, your heart jumped at the sight. It had been so long since you felt it, tasted it, rode it. Was he thinking the same? Taking his velvety length in your hand for the first time in a long time, you felt a burst of confidence at its familiarity and his response.
“Baby,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please.” 
You didn’t need another word. At the sound of the familiar pet name, you already started hovering over his cock, admiring how pretty it was before diving in. Licking around the head, you used the slick to glide your mouth far down his shaft, rolling your hand along the bottom to coat the rest. 
Seokjin jolted at the sudden pleasure, and you felt a pang in your heart. You wanted him to remember this night. And you were much more experienced than you were before, though you would only get so much time to prove your growth. 
Coming up for air, you used your hand to gather the rest of your spit and slide it down his cock, rubbing it a few times before diving down again. The stilted, garbled noises coming from your filled mouth were even getting your own underwear soaked, but they weren’t a match for Seokjin’s. His delicious grunts and moans sent you close to the edge. They were deeper than you remembered, and he wasn’t one to shy away from showing you how turned on and pleasured he was feeling.
The prominent veins of his cock were the roads along which your tongue traveled, and you made sure to love them all in between stuffing him fully in your warm mouth. He was so big, but you wanted to take every inch, tears welling in your eyes with your efforts. 
You fought through even when you felt him rock the back of your throat. Seokjin took that moment to sit up, causing tears to leak fully down your cheeks at the deeper thrust. His hands dove into your hair, but he didn’t force your head down. Instead, they tugged you off his cock, and he gazed down lovingly at your wrecked expression. Jin’s voice dipped an octave and came out coated in sin as he asked, “Can you go a little more for me, beautiful?” 
Your body tingled on instinct. You nodded and, when he smiled, you gripped his drenched dick in your fingers before descending your mouth onto his balls. Seokjin bucked his hips forward in a jolt as you grinned, lapping at his salty skin and delighting in the tremulous groans rolling down your back. Your hand squeezed the tip of his shaft before you straightened again, taking his cock captive without pause.
“Shit,” he grunted, his long fingers diving into your hair. His hands still didn’t push you down further, oddly, so you took the initiative and plunged down yourself. 
The feel of his cock in your mouth was so familiar. It was almost second nature how easily you sucked him off, knowing when to hollow your cheeks and pull him further down the abyss of ecstasy. When to sink further and hum, ripping a delicious sound from his throat. Even when to bob and swirl your head around, effectively shutting down his ability to function. 
It was then that you chose to really bring it home. You breathed through your nose as you took more and more of him in, even after you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt your nose hit this pubic bone, and the long moan you got from Seokjin was worth the burn in your throat. His fingers tightened around your head, but when you came up gasping for air he didn’t stop you. 
“Come here,” is all he said, tugging you up to straddle him again. A trail of saliva swung from your lips as you came up, but you paid it no mind. If anything, it added to the building lust inside your bones. Your panties were absolutely drenched by now, so dragging your core along Seokjin’s cock caused both of you to twinge. “Fuck,” he gasped, fueling your heat. 
“Jinnie, please,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse. You wanted everything from him at once. You were getting impatient, and the overwhelming time pressure was stressing you the hell out. “I need you, please.” 
Suddenly, everything stopped as Seokjin cradled your chin and swiped the spit from your lips. “You have me,” he assured you. “You have all of me.” He kissed your nose. “And you’ll have me for a very long time.” 
Relenting, you leaned into his touch. “Now is what I’m concerned about.” 
“I know,” he agreed before kissing you again. “I just wanted you to know the rest.” 
“Okay,” you whispered before capturing his full lips with your own. When you felt him wrapping his arms around you, your heart leaped into your throat. When you felt him shift the both of you to lower you onto the bed, you already knew fresh tears were waiting behind your eyes. 
With great care, Jin slipped your underwear off your smooth legs. Your bra was deftly unhooked next - not without an eyebrow raise from you and a wink from him - and tossed from the bed. 
Staring at your naked form, Seokjin appeared completely lost in thought. It got to the point where you felt like covering yourself, but when you attempted to he swiftly denied any insecurity. “Don’t keep this from me,” he whispered. “I want to remember everything.” 
You kept it together until then. Something in you broke and you softly choked on a cry. So he was thinking the same as you. This was the last night for a long time. 
Starting from your shoulder, he kissed his way down along your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Taking one breast in one hand, he swirled his tongue around the nipple of the other. You gasped from the sudden burst of pleasure, which made Seokjin repeat the motion on the other side. He then lightly sucked on the nipple, releasing it with a small pop. 
You wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the waves of pleasure he was giving you, making his way down your body. But you wanted to relive this night again and again. So you had to keep your eyes on him. Only him. His mouth’s searing heat as it kissed along your stomach, and the stark cold left behind when he moved on. His soft touch as he gently pried your legs open, and dark, lust-filled eyes as he stared at your dripping entrance. You wanted to remember the way he kissed along your legs, nipping in some places to make you gasp. The way his beautiful lips connected with your heat in a reverent kiss before his tongue explored inside. Each flick of his tongue, squeeze of his fingers on your legs, noise from his lips. How you loved him through every second of him worshipping you. 
As soon as he brought his fingers up to caress your folds while sucking on your clit, you had to stop him. It was too much. You wanted to feel him when you broke. 
Seokjin wordlessly obeyed as he crawled above you. You pulled him down for a kiss, not caring how he tasted. Your hands then went to his shoulders as he positioned himself at your entrance. 
“Are you still…” 
“Yes,” you nodded, touched that he remembered. “I’m still on it.” 
“Okay.” He swooped down to capture your lips, and when you clenched your fingers around his shoulders, he grunted. “Are you okay to take it all?” 
“Go slow. For now,” you said, earning a nod. “It’s been awhile.”
Seokjin’s gaze was heavy as he prepared himself. “Same.” 
At the initial push, you whooshed out a gasp. It had been way too long since you’d been with someone. The intrusion indeed hurt. Maybe you should have let him prep you more, in hindsight. But Seokjin was nothing but tender as he waited for you to adjust. Once you were okay, he steadily pushed out and in again, going deeper. Slowly but surely, you were able to fully take him in. 
And the feel of him completely inside you was nothing like you’ve felt before. It was comfort. It was home. It was a perfect fit, and you wanted to stay like that forever. 
“God,” Seokjin groaned, “I don’t want to leave this room.” 
You chuckled, rolling your hips. “Hmm, pussy or Harvard. That’s a pretty tough one.” 
“If it’s yours, Harvard can wait,” Seokjin grunted before sending your thoughts spiraling with a huge thrust. You outright whined at him, but he pulled out only to spear you again with one long motion. “You still like it rough, baby?” 
Chills cascaded down your spine and pooled at the apex of your toes. This was the Seokjin you were waiting for. You wondered if he was still into that after witnessing everything he was doing for you beforehand. But oh, were you ready for the pivot. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned. “You know I do.” 
“You still have your word?” 
“Carousel, yes.” 
“Good girl.” That was all Seokjin needed. Grabbing the top of the headboard behind you, he launched into a rough and relentless pace that had you seeing stars. You felt so full, yet so weightless as you let your body go limp. The feel of Seokjin’s cock slamming into you repeatedly would continue to exist for months after tonight, the ridges of it sliding along your walls never forgotten entirely. You needed as much as he could give, and he knew that. 
Gripping one of your legs, he hauled it over his sweat-slicked shoulder and tilted himself to reach a deeper position, twisting his reddened face to plant kisses on your ankle. Mewl after mewl tumbled from your lips at the deep thrusts. 
“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Jin commanded while still pounding into you, and you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Your fingers went straight for your jiggling breasts, teasing your nipples and tugging them for his blown out eyes. You moaned, and smirked when you saw Seokjin beginning to lose himself. 
His tell was his scrunched eyebrows, and his eyes shifting down to watch his cock ram into your tight cunt. You still knew, after years. 
You fell into complete ecstasy when he reached down with his free hand to rub your clit between your bodies, loving the way the veins in his arms protruded. Imagining licking along them all made you moan. And you didn’t care if the people around you heard. All of your mewls, moans, whines - they were all for Jin. He could have all of you again and again.  
After one particularly deep thrust, he tugged his cock out, leaving your walls fluttering around an agonizing emptiness. “Turn around. On your knees.” 
“Holy fuck, yes,” you rasped. He wasn’t letting the night go to waste at all. 
Before you even assumed the next position, you felt a hand come down on your ass. The smack jolted you forward in pain, with pleasure settling in its wake. 
“So pretty,” Seokjin whispered, ghosting his hand over the spot he spanked. He gave it another smack before gripping your ass cheeks apart. You assumed he was roving his eyes over your drenched core. “And still so wet.” 
“Just for you,” you affirmed. 
“Just for me,” he repeated before adjusting his knees on the bed to get closer. “But you might be too loud tonight, baby. I’m going to need silence from you this time.” 
Shit. You were never, ever good at this part. But you nodded. What you weren’t expecting right away was the initial stroke to be rough, right down to the hilt. You cried out immediately, earning you a harsh spank. 
Seokjin’s sudden laugh made you chuckle in embarrassment. He breathily joked, “Out of practice?” 
“Something like that,” you admitted, your elbows and grin lost in the sheets. “I’m rusty.” 
“Okay, let’s just do this then.” Jin leaned forward, stretching over you. You groaned at the feel of his solid chest on your soft back, your eyes rolling into your head feeling him completely mold into you for a moment. He got a fluffy pillow from the other side of the bed and let your head rest on it. “Can you bite this for me, my love?” 
The new name spread wildfire across your face. “Yes. That I can do,” you assured him. When you had the material securely in your mouth, you nodded to signal he could continue. 
“Good girl.” And continue Seokjin did. He went right back into the dominant Jin he loved being, and the one you loved being with. There was no mercy in his thrusts, stroke after stroke after stroke. If you lifted your back a little or lowered your butt, he smacked your supple flesh and corrected you instantly. “Ass up, baby.” 
With Jin’s relentless pace, your body went limp and hung on by a thread. Loosening up allowed for even more of his cock, and your muffled moans started getting louder the closer and closer you got to the edge. You could feel your core tightening, threatening to unleash the pent up tension. 
“That’s it, beautiful,” Seokjin praised, feeling your walls squeeze around him. “Do you want to come like this?”
You hastily shook your head. You wanted to see him when you came. And if you remembered correctly, he loved seeing your face when it happened, as well.
“Too bad,” he chuckled darkly, and you almost came undone right then. “Guess you’ll have to come again the way you want to later.” Reaching under you, he toyed with your clit as he kept the pace from behind. 
You let go of the pillowcase as you kicked your head back in a moan, your saliva trail slowly gravitating toward the sheets. Seokjin only let you breathe for a second before pushing your head back down into the thin material. “Make noise again and you won’t come at all.”
Fuck. You bit hard into the pillow, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself losing control. His fingers felt divine on your bundle of nerves, his dick sliding through your folds over and over and over. The hand he placed on your head smoothed over your hair before bunching it and tugging. You reared back, dots swimming in your vision. “God, I want to choke you. Can I do that, my love?” 
You released the pillow from your mouth again. His consideration was top notch tonight. Too much? You couldn’t decide or really care. “Yes, just do it. Do anything. Please. I’m so close.” 
“Mm. Then cover your mouth.” Before you could follow his command, Seokjin pulled you up by a shoulder to be flush against his front. Sweat coated your back and your ass, causing you to slide down his chiseled stomach while speared on his cock. A strong hand wrapped around your throat, and the fingers that were teasing your clit mercilessly now ventured into the front of your folds. 
One of your hands shot up to clamp over your mouth right before you let out a long groan. You loved when he took control, and when he lost control. If both happened at the same time, it was heaven. 
You could barely last on your knees as his dick slammed up into you repeatedly. The hand around your airway was tight but only just, his praises in your ear being the real culprit of your stolen breath. Your pussy clenched harshly around his length, and you knew from the tight coil in your body that you were seconds from euphoria. 
Seokjin felt it instantly. “Come, baby.” And as soon as he relinquished your throat did you give in, waves of pleasure coursing through you and a white burn shimmering in your lungs. It seemed endless. Ripple after ripple thrummed through your body, your joints slowly unlocking from their initial freeze. Behind you, Seokjin groaned and sang sweet nothings in your ear, his arms wrapping around your chest in a scorching embrace. 
The high ebbed, but did not completely recede. You knew Jin still needed release, so you kissed his wrist next to your shoulder and whispered, “I want to see you now.”
“Whatever you need.” Seokjin slowly unsheathed himself, and you felt a slight pain. You watched as he positioned his back on the headboard. He knew what you wanted to do. 
You made your way over to him and hovered over his length. Locking your hazy eyes with his dark set, you kissed him lazily as you languidly sank back onto him. Seokjin groaned when you didn’t use your hand as a guide beforehand. And frankly, that turned you on, too.
“You’re so tight still,” he grunted, his hands coming up and grabbing your ass before settling on your hips. 
You rolled your hips before finding a rhythm. “You’re just big,” you mock complained, earning a deep chuckle. 
“Aww. You sound. So. Sad,” he teased, thrusting up into you to punctuate each word. Your mewls were welcome now since he was done with his role. Now he could just sit back and enjoy your show for him. And occasionally torture you. 
You found your rhythm again, rougher with him now with your hands in his dark, sweaty locks. One of your hands dropped onto his chest and raked down his breast, eliciting a higher moan than normal. 
The sound caused heat to pool between your legs again, and you upped the pace. Your thighs burned from the exertion, but you kept yourself distracted by diving into Jin’s neck and nipping in multiple places. His arms left your hips to wrap around your back, and your breath faltered as he took over again. 
Seokjin was close. He was always close when his limbs locked hard into place. His upward thrusts were fast and hard, and you could only moan in his ear and take him in. The coil that released once tonight was tightening again, and you murmured in his ear that you were close. 
Seokjin only needed to kiss you like his life depended on it for you to unravel again. The wave was weaker than last time, but it could still cover mountains. Your head felt light, dancing above the clouds with no intention of coming down. You pushed yourself from his lips, allowing him to see your flushed chest and reddened cheeks. The second orgasm faded and loosened your limbs, but your heart felt completely connected to his, your soul nestled into the comfort of his tender embrace. “I love you,” you sighed, and you immediately felt a huge twitch between your folds.
“Lie down, baby. I’m close.” 
“It’s okay,” you whispered, cradling his cheek. “Come inside me, Jinnie. I wanna feel you.” 
“Shit,” he grunted. His thrusts descended into madness. Your heart rattled at the sight of his dusted red cheeks, sweaty neck, heaving chest. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and the one you would overturn stars to find should you ever lose him again. 
When he gazed down at your joined sex, you took in the wet strands of hair on his forehead. When he kicked his head back against the headboard to look at you with lidded eyes, you bit your swollen lips. This wonderful man was your lover, your ex, your friend, and now your lover again. Only this time, you truly loved him back. And you wanted to think back to this moment forever. 
Tears sprung into your eyes as he pulled you in for a searing kiss, and his orgasm released into you in spurts. The thrusts he made then were slow and powerful, and your body bobbed with the swells. You kissed him harder than necessary, almost willing to bruise your own lips on his. The longer you held his lips captive, the longer he couldn’t see your sorrow. 
But Seokjin already felt the drops ping his chest. He just let you cry because that’s what you needed. Even when he broke from the kiss, he never said a word. He trailed kisses along your wet cheeks, your sweaty nose, and your glistening forehead. His poignant visage held nothing but stars, and it reminded you of the night you fell in love, crushing your spirit ever more. 
Touch after touch after touch only coaxed more tears from your eyes. It felt never ending as you sat spent in his lap, still on his softening length. Sheer willpower was what caused you to finally speak, your voice hoarse, “We should clean up. You still need to pack and sleep.”
“We should, and I do,” he whispered. He patted your bum. “Can you get up by yourself?” 
You nodded before extracting yourself from his firm thighs, lamenting the fact that human bodies had limits. As you waddled to the bathroom, you stumbled along the way, Seokjin softly chuckled while following you and steadying you when needed. Even when you shot empty glares at him, the smile in his eyes never left. 
The rest of your time spent in his room consisted of silence and kisses. Ever the gentleman, he let you lie down on his bed while he used the other half for the bags to pack. It didn’t take him too long since he was organized from the jump, so when he was done he cleared the bed and joined you under the covers. When you felt a weight on your stomach, you looked down to see your camera dumped on the comforter. 
Seokjin wrapped a strong arm behind your neck. “What do you call naked pictures taken with a Polaroid?” 
“Oh, no.” You turned your head to face him. “What?” 
“Just pictures. But that’s old nudes.” 
You punished him by attacking his sides instantly, yanking a batch of honky laughs from him. Knowing your own weaknesses still, he unleashed his own parry, and it took a minute for the both of you to settle in a draw. 
“Don’t tell me the only reason you brought this into the bed was to tell that horrid joke,” you chuckled, your head back to resting in your pillow. 
“Nope. I wanna take one of us.” 
After getting past all seven of your objections and excuses, Seokjin whittled your walls down and got you to agree. The end product existed on the last film in your Polaroid: a crooked snapshot of him kissing your cheek as you smiled with creased eyes, sheets held against your chest. And he conceded in letting you keep it after watching you clutch it lovingly in your fingers. 
You immediately sought comfort in his embrace after setting the photo next to your phone on the nightstand, and he stole multiple kisses from you way after your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer. 
“Get some sleep, my love,” Seokjin whispered. 
And despite your sound of protest, you were pulled into the abyss of sleep right as you felt pillowy lips caress your forehead.
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Rin-Rin [6:40am]: You’re lucky I love you. I packed your stuff and left out an outfit for you when you come down. Just don’t be late or I’ll drag you back down myself :)))
Jiminie [6:45am]: RISE N SHINE LOVEBIRDS
Rin-Rin [6:46am]: Oh, yeah, I may or may not have texted Jimin. 
Jiminie [6:46am]: ABOUT TIME
Jiminie [6:46am]: !!!
Tae [6:47am]: jimins scream woke me up. i can only assume that means ill get to be an uncle soon. dont let me down i want this(: 
Joonie [6:48am]: Aaaaaaaaaa !!!
Jiminie [6:48am]: And I know you want to yell at me for yesterday so I am ready for that whenever you are
Kook [6:50am]: <3 
You smiled at your texts before locking your phone. Seokjin was already up and about, making sure everything was packed and accounted for. When he saw you stirring, he came over and surprised you with a kiss so deep that it revitalized your sagging emotional state. “Morning,” you chuckled, swinging your sore legs out of the sheets and wincing at the cold. “I need to head back down.”
“Yeah, Rin already sent the first round of threats. I’ll see you at the car, okay?” 
You pecked him on the cheek after you slipped on your boots and grabbed your Polaroid.  Stepping into the hallway, you kept reminding yourself to not completely lose it yet. There was still a whole car ride you got to have with him, and you were determined to slow down time however you could. 
Your phone buzzed again, and you assumed Yoongi and Hoseok were just now waking up and getting the gossip. Checking your notifications only validated your guess.
Hobi [6:52am]: AHHHHH HAPPY FOR U~!!!
Hobi [6:52am]: ASLSKDJSKDHSKDJ
Yoongi [6:53am]: I’ll make sure to drag him back sometimes. It’s ludicrous to say that we’d never see him again. Drama queen. Anyways, happy for you. If you need anything, let me know. 
Hobi [6:53am]: we’ll see seokjinnie again love. and if u miss him a lot then we can make sure you see him. im sure he’ll be missing u too
How you were able to win the friend lottery and meet these people, you had no clue. But you weren’t going to ever question the fact. All you would do was embrace your blessings and love them. 
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The car ride to the airport was long, but still much too short for your liking. Between the loving gazes you directed at Seokjin as he sang along to Taehyung’s music, the looks full of mirth Jimin gave the both of you from the backseat, and the laughter of both Rin and Taehyung, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time. 
Throughout the ride, you got the feeling that you were going to be okay. Seokjin was starting an insane adventure, but you were also going to be there every step of the way. Not just on the polaroid he decided to stash in his bag, but in his heart and on his mind like Namjoon said around the fire. 
There were still plenty of ways to see each other and communicate. And since he technically didn’t start until next summer, that gave you plenty of time to see him before then. The many possibilities made you question your hesitation in the first place. 
But none of that diminished how much of a struggle it was still going to be. 
When the car rolled to a stop in the airport parking lot, your chest constricted. When everyone got their bags out of the cars and started the trek to the shuttles, your hands shook on your straps. As soon as everyone started saying their byes and separating to check into their airlines, you found it hard to breathe. 
But a tender hand brushed through your hair, and plush lips connected with your forehead. In an instant, you felt okay again. 
Seokjin’s calm voice slipped over your features. “Your flight leaves in two hours, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Okay. Come shop with me before I have to go to my gate!” 
You tried your best to keep a positive attitude while you watched Jin peruse different airport stores. When he would hold stuff up for you to approve, you would smile or dramatically turn things down. Even the cute neck pillow he really wanted got the dreaded rejection. 
But that was only so you could pay for it when he wasn’t looking and surprise him. The huge laugh and grin you got in return was worth the trouble. 
When it was time for Seokjin to head to his gate, you brought him in for a crushing hug. “Let me know when you land,” you demanded. 
“Of course, honey,” he said through a smile. 
“‘Honey,’ now?” You regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You have so many nicknames for me. I can’t keep up. Do you have a favorite you could stick with?” 
Seokjin rested his chin on your head. “Ah, I have a favorite. But it’s not true yet, so I shouldn’t use it.” 
A fire ignited in your heart, the flames warming you from the inside. “And which one is that?” 
“Would you look at the time!” Jin’s body heat left you in a rush as he stepped away, and your instinctual pout made him laugh outright. He cupped your chin for a kiss that rocked your whole being before pulling away. His eyes held galaxies in them when he stared into yours. “Guess you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.” 
“You’re a jerk, Jinnie,” you huffed, but you kissed him again. “You’re lucky I love you.” 
“I really am. And I love you,” he responded. His hand came down to squeeze yours before he had to part. “I’ll let you know when I make it. Call me when you get home, okay?” 
“Okay,” you replied, and you watched his long strides with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind. 
As you told yourself again and again, you were going to be okay. It was going to be tough, it was going to be absolutely painful. But as long as you decided to keep loving each other, everything would work out. 
You knew better than anyone that love was a choice. And for Seokjin, you would choose it a thousand times over. 
And besides, the current state of technology was on your side. The possibilities of communication were too endless for you to dwell on the distance. Were there going to be days in which you only received one text? Most likely. Were there going to be weeks where you weren’t going to hear much from Seokjin at all? Definitely. But this time, unlike last time, you welcomed every bit of it. Your heart built a bridge to his that defied any sense of physical distance. On opposite sides, both of you were achieving success in your own ways. In the end, you would always come back to each other to celebrate together. Even though this was the last November trip you had with Seokjin, it was the beginning of many, many wonderful years to come.
It was later, while you were waiting for your own flight to finish boarding, that a message was sent to your phone. 
Jinnie [12:04pm]: Attachment: 1 Image
You couldn’t help but grin. As you gazed lovingly at the picture of Seokjin smiling next to your polaroid, another one came in before you could respond.
Jinnie [12:05pm]: Until you’re really next to me, this will have to do. Don’t get too jealous! 
You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes while setting the image as your wallpaper. Locking your phone, you tapped the glass to see your screen light up, observing the picture again.
On a plane heading to another city entirely, Seokjin was doing the exact same thing. Except in his case, he was smiling down at a girl caught in mid-laughter, body aglow from the bright yellow lights of a spinning carousel behind her. 
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a/n: whewww so if you made it to the end, hi! i seriously enjoyed writing this and i learned so much. it’s my first fic and first huge one-shot, so if you have any comments/concerns/constructive feedback, please let me know! my ask box is always open, too. lastly, here is my m.list if you want to browse! 🌨🌨🌨 ++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here!   ++ ⇥ masterlist 
2K notes · View notes
seriouslysnape · 3 years
Note
Hi!❣️ Your writing is pretty cool, and I love the way you portray Sev, especially!
If it isn't a bother, of course... Could I make a request? Where Snape and the Reader are expecting, and go through all the nine months (like, through things like cravings, mood swings Snaddy has to endure, buying the child's stuff and decorating the room, all of that), till delivery? Only if you'd like the 'prompt', of course.
Wish you a nice day☺️
I LOVE THISSSSSS. YES DAD SEV >>>
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Paternal Figure
Severus Snape x Fem. Reader
Warnings: Language, Emetephobia, Sexual implications.
Word Count: 5,161
“We’re going to be one happy family.”
__
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“How much longer?” Severus questioned, eyeing the pregnancy test that was lying face down on the bathroom counter.
You looked at your wrist watch that was secured on your trembling hand. You saw that it had been more than enough time for the pregnancy test to do its job. A quivering sigh flowed from your chest as you reached for the test with trembling fingers.
“It should be ready.” You replied.
Severus sat up straighter from where he sat on the bathroom floor, his blood pumping with eagerness and nervousness. You held the test to your chest for a second with your eyes closed and head lulled towards the ceiling.
You and Severus wanted a baby badly. After being married for a few years, the baby fever was becoming harder to resist between the two of you combined. It started out as a casual thing. Severus first briefly mentioned how there was still an empty room in the house that needed to be occupied. You assumed that he meant as an office space or maybe even a large walk in closet.
But when Severus suggested that the two of you turn that space into a nursery, you knew what he was implying. You had always wanted to have kids with Sev. In the beginning, Severus wasn’t totally sure how he felt about having a baby. He wasn’t great with younger people, and he was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good dad.
However, the longer the two of you were together and the more life you shared together, the more he wanted nothing more than to put a baby in you. He wanted to raise a child and teach it all the wonders of the wizarding world. He wanted your baby to be perfect.
The two of you sat and chatted for a long time about it, not wanting to rush into things. It was a huge deal after all; bringing a human into the world was a life changing ordeal. You talked it over, and you both happily agreed that you would start trying for a baby.
You admittedly became a little obsessed with getting pregnant in the first few months. You tracked your menstrual and ovulation cycles much more than usual, eventually memorizing everything down to the minute. You tried any wizard (and even a few Muggle) tricks in the book to increase your chances of conceiving, including basically pouncing on Severus any chance he was around.
If you had a free minute to spare, you were shoving him into bed and having sex with him. At first, Severus found it rather endearing that you were so excited to have a kid, but he became concerned as time went on. Getting pregnant isn’t always a quick process. Some women can so much as look at their husband and get results while some spend a better half of their life trying to even get a positive pregnancy test.
You were proving to be one of the harder cases.
With each negative pregnancy test, the more frantic you became. You felt like your fertility window was closing in on you rapidly, and if you didn’t get pregnant soon, it’d be too late. The first few negatives didn’t phase you much, but by the fifth or sixth, you were feeling discouraged. Severus was much more patient than you during all of this, holding you flush to him when you burst into tears of frustration.
It had become a monotonous and vicious cycle. You’d try to get pregnant, buy a pregnancy test, get a negative result, and fall into a weeping heap onto the bathroom floor. After one particularly hard let down, Severus stepped in. He was rocking your sobbing frame in his arms, hushing you and comforting you as best he could.
He suggested that the two of you take a break for a while, and that maybe you were trying too hard. The stress couldn’t have been good for you as a whole, and maybe taking a more casual approach would be best.
“Here’s what I’m thinking, my love. You and I take this step by step. We continue life as normal,” He said softly; “If you get pregnant then that’s good, and if you don’t, then we remain calm and try again. If much longer goes by, then we can go see your doctor.”
You nodded into his chest with heartbreaking sobs, agreeing that this had taken a huge toll on your body. You apologized for your crazy behavior, but Severus only gave a light laugh and kissed your head.
“No, no, my dear. Don’t be sorry. I want this just as much as you do.” He consoled, sweeping you off of the floor.
You were a bit apprehensive about Severus’ approach to this, but you were willing to try anything. Fast forward a few weeks later, and this was the first test you had taken since taking Severus’ advice.
“Sev...” You croaked out; “What if it’s negative?”
You were sitting against the door in your tiny bathroom, Severus sitting on the wall across from you. Your knees were almost touching one another’s as he replied.
“Then we accept it, take a few days, and try again. It’ll be alright, [Y/N].” He reassured, resting a hand on your knee in a loving way.
You exhaled deeply, already half expecting to be disappointed. You nodded, and quickly flipped the test so you could read it. Your heart hit your feet and bounced back into your ribcage at the sight. You were stoically silent as you stared in silence at the test.
Severus was watching with a clenched jaw, prepared to comfort you in case it wasn’t what you wanted to see. You kept looking at it for a few more seconds to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The double pink lines were as clear as day.
You were pregnant.
Tears filled your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. You turned the test so he could see it.
“It’s positive,” You said, smiling through the tears streaming your face; “We’re going to have a baby.”
Severus’ jaw fell open and stars of delight shot over his eyes. He himself gazed down at the test as if it would explode right in his hands.
“You’re pregnant...” He breathed out.
You nodded, wiping away at the tears with a genuine laugh. A blinding smile appeared on Severus’ face as he moved to pull you into a tight embrace. A few tears leaked from his eyes as well, the two of you mumbling “I love yous” to each other as you cried out the adrenaline and undeniably glee that you were feeling. It had almost been a year since you started trying, and now it seemed that it had paid off.
You were going to be parents.
__
The first trimester of your pregnancy was less than pleasant. While you were eternally grateful to be carrying your first child, you weren’t too thrilled about the symptoms that came with it. You were violently sick for the first few weeks, basically bringing back up anything you tried to hold down. Even something as mild as pumpkin juice was enough to make you sick just from the smell.
As disgusting as it was, Severus was by your side any time you fell ill.
“It’s okay, darling. Let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing circles onto your back as you let out another hurl.
You seemingly puked up everything you had eaten in the last ten years into the toilet bowl, a new groan escaping your chest every time you had a chance to take a breath. Severus kept your hair out of your face as best as he could, trying not to visibly grimace every time you threw up.
You closed the lid of the toilet for a minute, draping your arm over the top of it and resting your forehead on the heated skin of your forearm.
“Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” You grumbled miserably.
He gave a chuckle, and even though you couldn’t see it, he raised his left hand to reveal his silver wedding ring.
“In sickness and in health.” He said, wrapping his long legs around your from behind, resting his head on your back.
“I think this is an exception to that vow.” You joked, hoping that the relief you were feeling was to signal the end of today’s sickness.
Severus hummed.
“I think that this is exactly what it was referring to,” He corrected, his heart fluttering when you lifted your head with a weak smile; “Just as beautiful as ever.”
You snorted at that, but you were heartwarmed.
“How did I ever deserve you?” You asked, falling into his open arms.
“I could ask you the same thing.”
When you were actually able to have an appetite, you wanted any and every food imaginable. The pregnancy cravings were insanely hard to ignore, and it was even harder to ignore the weird things you craved.
“What...is that?” Severus questioned cautiously as he entered the kitchen, catching you in the middle of biting something he couldn’t even discern.
You looked at him with wide eyes and stopped mid-chomp. You didn’t respond, not even sure how to explain this to him. His gaze averted to the open pantry, and saw that mostly everything had been raided and placed on the kitchen counter. He had noticed that satisfying your cravings had proven to be the most difficult thus far. He inspected the food item in your hand and his stomach lurched when he realized what it was.
“Is that a treacle tart with...” He trailed off, barely able to finish the thought.
You finished his sentence, rather ashamed.
“...pickles.” You confessed.
Severus was sure that his face had turned a nasty shade of green at the thought of your concoction. He shuddered and made you put it down. You had always been creative and experimental in the kitchen, but this was too far.
“Okay, I’ve been supportive of every strange food combination you’ve come up with, but I draw the line at treacle pickle tarts.” He said with a voice full of amusement.
You whined.
“I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it. Everything we have sounds good.”
He scratched the back of his head. He never liked to tell you how to live your life, but there was no way that this was good for you or the baby.
“I don’t think Little One is going to appreciate pickles and desserts.” He noted, placing a hand on your very small baby bump.
“Little One” was the nickname that he had coined for your developing child. You and Severus had decided early on that you wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise up until delivery. Severus hated to keep referring to the baby as...well, “the baby”. So he had instinctively come up with all kinds of nicknames along the way.
“Well, I’m pretty sure that Little One is the only reason I want pickles.” You snapped back.
“It’s not the pickles. It’s the pickles with the tart that I can’t stomach.” Severus explained.
You sneered at him, but Severus continued before you could snark back at him.
“I’ll tell you what, princess. How about we whip up a bunch of your favorite foods, and we’ll have a nice dinner together?” He offered.
Your belly grumbled at the sound of that. You nodded in agreement, and you and Severus prepared a heavenly meal.
On top of the all day morning sickness and the nauseating cravings, your hormones were going absolutely nuts. You had never experienced such frequent mood changes like this, and poor Severus was the victim of all your emotional outbursts. It seemed as if you were blowing up at the smallest of details.
“Damn it, Sev. How many times have I told you not to leave your socks on the floor?” You hissed, angrily picking up his dirty socks.
Severus poked his head out of the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom, a guilty look on his face.
“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I left them there.” He said truthfully.
“Just like how you didn’t realize that you left the sink faucet dripping or how you forgot to put the pillows back on the bed when you got up at 10 in the morning?” You mocked, throwing his socks into his laundry basket.
He caught how aggravated you were, and exited the bathroom to talk things over. Severus didn’t want you to be upset with him, but he knew you were just going through a lot of changes and couldn’t really control your emotions well.
“I assure you that I didn’t do those things on purpose,” He said, not even an ounce of irritation in his voice; “I’ll pick up after myself.”
His light and friendly tone made you realize that you had overreacted once again. Severus had not once lost his temper with you, no matter how bad you had nagged him. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at your feet that were close to being covered by your steadily growing bump.
You felt bad for being on his ass about something 24/7. He was trying his best to help you and make your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. You yelling at him all the time wasn’t fair to him.
“I’m sorry, Sev. It’s not you.” You uttered for the hundredth time in the last three months.
He only smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.
“Not to worry, my dear,” He mewled; “I can handle being screamed at for as long as it takes.”
__
The second trimester was actually easier than the first as far as symptoms goes. Your morning sickness had subsided, you had adapted to your ever changing hormones, and you weren’t tempted to eat everything in sight. While the symptoms were still there, they didn’t completely dictate your life.
You and Severus were well into the finer intricacies of planning for the arrival of your baby boy or girl. You were in the process of converting your extra bedroom into a nursery, which was a challenge for Severus. He was a shitty interior decorator, which wouldn’t be an issue if he hadn’t insisted that he decorate the baby’s room.
Severus wanted to be as involved as possible, never wanting you to think that he wasn’t there for you. You were ecstatic with the idea of him taking charge of the nursery, but you soon realized that wasn’t a good idea.
“We are not painting the baby’s room BLACK, Severus.” You protested, eyeing the cans of black paint on the floor.
Severus had gone out and bought all kinds of paint supplies. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, stencils, tape, etc. He was adamant about doing it all by hand (as opposed to using magic; a suggestion that he was horribly offended at), and had taken it upon himself to buy everything.
You had forgotten that there wasn’t much color interest in the world of Severus Snape.
“And why not? There’s black in other parts of the house.” He argued.
You put your hands on your hips, your back beginning to arch from the weight of your five month swelling belly.
“Yes, but this is a baby’s room. I don’t think he or she is going to like it,” You retorted back; “It’ll be too dark and...scary. I want Little One to be comfortable in here.”
Severus looked around. Perhaps, black was too extreme for such a small human. He looked a tad defeated and disappointed in himself. He was trying his hardest. You caught his dejected look.
“Oh, honey. I know you want it to be perfect,” You said, taking his face into your hands; “We can do it together. Maybe we can sneak a bit of black in here somewhere.”
He nodded.
“So, what color should we paint the room?” He asked.
You looked around this time, biting your lower lip in thought. You wanted to have gender neutral colors, and something that would be cozy for the baby.
“How about we paint the walls white? That way we can add pops of color wherever we see fit.” You said after a moment of thought.
Severus agreed, but was holding to your promise to have at least some black in the room. The nursery was an ongoing project, lasting about a week and a half. The crib was the last item placed in the room, and it was complete. You and Severus stood in the middle, basking in the finished nursery.
“It looks great, S.” You said, looking at the black painted changing table and the mobile above the crib.
“It does. I’m glad you helped me.” He admitted, eyeing the moving pictures on the walls.
You wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, his lips falling to your head in response.
“We’re going to be one happy family.” You announced.
Severus laughed into your hair, his heart beating with hope.
“We already are.”
You had officially made it past the halfway mark, and your due date was quickly approaching. There was still so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Your bump was already huge, and you still had another trimester to go. You were getting to the point where swollen feet and an aching lower back was crippling your ability to go out and do much.
You were laid out on the sofa with Severus rubbing your tired feet. You were fighting the aching pain in your back and legs from the unevenly distributed weight from your midsection.
“I really need to go out today.” You winced as another round of soreness flooded your body.
Severus’ careful hands continued to massage the aching muscles of your feet.
“Why, love? You can surely go on a day where you’re feeling in higher spirits.” He said.
While he wasn’t totally wrong, you were at the point where every day was the same as the last. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have a “higher spirits” day for a while.
“I suppose I could. But I need to get baby clothes, pacifiers, bottles.” You grunted, exhaling heavily.
You really needed to do this, but you just weren’t feeling up to it. Then you had an idea. Since Severus didn’t get to put all his effort into the nursery, you thought you could give him a second chance.
“Severus, could you possibly go out and buy baby stuff today?” You suddenly asked.
You were honestly expecting him to say no, considering he knew nothing about baby fashion. Instead, his face brightened and he leapt up from the couch.
“Of course! Why didn’t you just ask?” He queried, giddy with joy.
You laughed at his anticipation, giving him a few instructions.
“Alright, Sev. Don’t buy anything ridiculous or anything that’s made of uncomfortable material,” You said; “And do NOT get anything Slytherin related. As much as you would like it, we have no clue what Little One is going to be sorted into when he or she is old enough.”
Severus groaned.
“Not even a-”
“No Slytherin stuff.”
“Well, what about a-”
“No, Severus.”
He groaned again, but accepted your request. As badly as he wanted his daughter or son to be a Slytherin, there was always the chance that they wouldn’t be. He’d love them regardless of what House they were in, but it would tickle him to death if they were a Slytherin.
So Severus went out into Diagon Alley with extra pep in his step, jittery as he went from store to store getting stuff for his little girl or boy. Severus had never paid much attention to baby clothes, and now that he was looking, his heart was swelling with excitement.
There were so many cute sweaters, onesies, socks, and pajama sets that absolutely made Severus burst with joy. He would pick out about a dozen outfits to start out with, knowing that you’d have to go buy more once the baby was older. But each time he thought he had enough, he’d spot two or three more outfits that he just had to buy.
He could not WAIT to see his baby in all of this stuff. It had obviously been a while since he was a child, and he was amazed at all of the new things that had been invented to make parenting easier and childhood more fun.
He bought a pacifier for every day of the week, and enough toys that would last your kid through kindergarten. He bought blankets and stuffed animals and anything else that a baby MIGHT want. Your baby was going to be spoiled to the max.
Truth be told, Severus went a little overboard with his purchases. He came back with no less than ten bags full of baby materials. You not-so-gracefully lifted yourself from the couch when he entered, several bags hooked onto each of his arms. He had a proud smile plastered on his face.
“Oh Merlin, Severus! What all did you buy??” You questioned, eyes bugging out at all the goodies in front of you.
“Clothes, pacifiers, bottles. Everything you asked for.” Severus stated innocently, you rifled through the bags at all the baby wonders.
“And toys, blankets, and stuffed animals.” You finished his list.
You looked at Severus with an entertained smile, his cheeks glowing red.
“I just want Little One to be happy.” He shrugged meekly.
You let out a soft “awh” and captured his soft lips in a sweet kiss. He already loved this baby so much that it melted your heart.
“With you as their dad, they absolutely will be.”
__
You had never been happier to enter your third and final trimester. You were in the home stretch, and you were so excited to meet your baby. You were about to pop like a balloon and, quite frankly, you had enough of it. Don’t make any mistake about it, you had cherished every moment of being pregnant, but you were ready to get some somewhat decent sleep without being kicked in the ribs every 5 minutes.
Although, with a newborn around, you weren’t sure how much sleep you would get.
Over the course of your pregnancy, Severus had become more and more protective the more your baby grew. Now that your due date was only a few days out, he jumped at any sudden movement or noise. He had eyes and ears like a hawk. He came barreling into the living room, completely naked and dripping with water from where he had just stepped into the shower.
“Darling, what was that? Are you alright?” He asked frantically as if he had just heard an airstrike.
You looked up from your book, readjusting the pillow that was underneath your massive belly to support the weight.
“Severus. I sneezed.” You declared.
Relief washed over him, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.
“Oh. Do you need anything?” He asked you for the millionth time that evening.
You laughed shortly, nodding your head.
“Yes. I’m fine,” You said; “Please try to enjoy your shower.”
Severus had been on your tail nonstop for the last three weeks. Even though most pregnancies go the full 40 weeks, your doctor said that labor could be expected once you hit 36. Sev didn’t want you out of his sights in case you went into labor early. He didn’t want to miss anything.
You had begged him to break away just for a minute, for his sake and yours. He padded back to the shower, ignoring the way his heart was thumping in his chest. You went back to your book, grinning to yourself at your anxious husband.
Once Severus was showered and somewhat calmer, you had grown tired and were ready to get in bed. Growing and carrying a baby had really tanked your energy levels, but Severus didn’t mind going to bed early. As long as he knew you and the baby were safe, he was content.
He laughed out loud when you slid into bed wearing only a pair of panties and a t-shirt that you had used a spell to stretch out. It was the only sleepwear that fit you due to your risen belly.
Getting comfortable was next to impossible, but you had gotten used to it over the last few months. You didn’t mind, because you knew it’d be back to normal soon. Severus was eyeing your tummy, looking to you with expectation once you were settled.
“Go ahead, Sev.” You giggled, knowing what he wanted.
Every single night since you had been pregnant, Severus would rub your belly and tell the human growing inside of you goodnight. Severus shimmied down to where his face was in front of your bump. He lifted the shirt up to reveal your bare belly. He left a kiss on the stretched skin, carefully placing both of his hands on you.
“Hello in there,” Severus said, smiling proudly when he felt the baby move at the sound of his voice; “Are you still kicking your mother?”
You even nodded at that, thinking about all the times that the baby had soccer kicked your ribcage or hit your bladder just right. You placed one hand over one of Severus’, and put your other in his hair as he spoke.
“I’m so ready to meet you. I love you so much already. Other than Mum, I never thought I could ever love someone this much,” Severus spoke gently; “You two are my whole world.”
You rubbed his hair as you listened. Severus had been nothing short of amazing during this process. He was more than you could ever ask for. This baby was going to be loved endlessly.
“I don’t know how great of a father I’ll be. I didn’t exactly have ideal parents. I admit that I don’t have a model to go off of. But I will love you no matter what,” He spoke; “I hope you sleep well, Little One. I can’t wait to see you.”
He pressed another kiss to the side of your belly, before returning to your side. You were misty eyed at his words, turning so you were facing him.
“Oh, Severus. You’re going to be a wonderful dad. I’ve seen the way you love this child,” You assured; “Little One is going to love you. And there’s no one else I’d rather bring a baby into this world with.”
Severus still had a modest amount of nerves, but it was drowned out with joy. He was so ready for this baby.
“I love you.” He whispered.
“I love you, Sev.” You whispered back.
You leaned to kiss him, but just as your lips touched, you felt a contraction and a massive gush of fluid flushed out between your legs, soaking both of your lower halves. A startled gasp fell from your mouth, and Severus eyes grew about three times their normal size. You both knew what that meant.
Little One was about to make his/her entrance into the world.
__
Getting to the hospital from the time that labor began was a blind rush. Severus was positively panicked, which didn’t help your attempts to remain relaxed. He had spent 9 months preparing for this moment, and he was still caught off guard.
The hospital was busy, but you had a team of nurses and doctors ready to go. You were wheeled into a delivery room, your doctor checking to see how dilated you were. He let you know that you had one of the fastest dilations he had ever seen, because you were already at 10 centimeters. There was no time for an epidural or a spell.
It was time to push.
The nurses got your legs into delivery position, Severus taking your hand as the doctor and nurses guided you through it. You gave a hard push, screaming bloody murder and squeezing the circulation out of Severus’ hand.
“You’re doing great, my love. Keep pushing.” He praised you.
Your head fell back onto the pillow with gruff, heavy breaths. You were filled with a pain you couldn’t describe. You needed this baby out. The doctor gave you a second to rest, before instructing you to push again. You took a deep breath, every muscle in your body tensing up as you pushed. Severus scrunched his nose at how badly you were hurting his hand, but he didn’t dare say anything.
The baby’s head and shoulders were out, ear splitting cries echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Severus peeked between your legs, and you saw the way his face filled with pure love as he saw your baby for the first time.
“Oh, [Y/N]. Little One is gorgeous...” He breathed, wanting you to push again so you could be able to see; “Push again, darling. You’re almost there.”
The nurses and Severus were encouraging you as you pushed hard a few more times, your baby finally entering into the world. Severus was a little too squeamish to cut the cord, but he watched every single movement as the doctors and nurses cut the umbilical cord and got them cleaned up. You were breathing heavily, your entire body shaking from the strenuous action. You whimpered out to Severus, who had a better viewpoint than you did.
“Is the baby okay? Please tell me the baby’s okay...” You whined out, desperate to see him/her.
Severus was close to crying, but it was the happiest he had been in his entire life.
“The baby is perfect. You did so well, my love.” He said, kissing your sweaty forehead.
The chaos in the room died down, and one of the nurses had swaddled the crying baby. She gave a huge, kind smile and set the baby in your arms.
“Say hello to your baby girl.” She cooed.
Tears fell from your eyes as she was placed into your arms. Her cries dwindled out at the feeling and sound of your and Severus’ voices. She was the most stunning baby you had ever seen. Severus felt something awaken in him. A side of him that had been itching to come out.
“A girl...oh, a girl.” You cried happily.
Severus sniffed, holding back tears.
“She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.” Sev croaked.
He placed a kiss on her forehead, her small baby whimpers making his heart explode. The two of you sat in silence, raking over your baby’s perfection. After a minute, you looked up at Severus with a smile.
“I just thought of something we have to do.” You said.
Panic flashed over his face again. You had done everything he thought. What could there possible be to do?
“What is that, darling?” He acquired.
You giggled, kissing Severus’ cheek.
“We’ve got to pick a name for her.”
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mercur1e · 3 years
Note
hiiii I hope ur doing well! Can I request a knb gom (+ kagami, teppei and junpei if you want) head canons where reader is part of an elite show choir? I’m on my glee phase again lmao
Yes of course! And I'm doing well and I hope you're doing well good too! I've never watched glee so I hope I don't let you down! Also sorry this took so long!
Midorima
Oha asa said for cancers that someone in your life has a special talent
So he decided to ask you about it!
"Oh yeah I'm in a choir!"
The way you said it make it assume that it was a lil local choir, nothing like major
WRONG
When you pulled up a youtube video and it sounded like he was ascending to heaven he was in awe
He asks you to sing a song for him, and in his free time he listens to your performances and it never ceases to amaze him :)
Whenever you have a concert he's in the front row rooting for you
Asks for duets because he can play the piano, and you two sound so pretty together!
Akashi
Not surprised
His s/o has golden pipes? Of course you do because you're his amazing s/o!
Loves listening to your performances
He even managed to get his father to go to one of your concerts and he enjoyed it!
Also asks for duets because he can play the vioin
Whenever you have to travel internationally he's right there with you :)
Absolutely adores your skills and is proud of you
You best BELIEVE he shows you off "Yeah my s/o sounds like a literal angel cmon baby show them"
But he does get jealous when people compliment you in front of him
Kise
Your #1 biggest fan
Shows you off to whoever is near him, willingly or unwillingly
"Guess what!?" "Wha-" "My s/o is in an elite choir! Isn't that cool? Huh huh????!!"
Is always at your concerts and even brings a sign
He forces the basketball team to watch your videos with him
No one can escape a proud kise
Asks you to hum a song for him when he's sleepy or stressed
Aomine
Had no clue
He found out through Sakurai actually
He watches choir videos and was in choir as a child
He was watching your video with earbuds in and didn't see Aomine approaching
Aomine was about to go steal some of his lunch as usual when he looked over the boy's shoulder
And just when he did the camera had cut to you, the main lead
He snatched the phone from poor startled Sakurai and watched the video
He was pleasantly surprised, and you sounded wonderful
After school that day he asked you about it
"Yep! I'm in choir"
He calls you golden pipes now
Loves whenever you sing
Murasakibara
It was Himuro who told him
He and Atushi were walking down the hall to class, and to waste time Himuro was reading flyers
There was a concert that was being held at your school for the choir
And he just happened to be reading the flyer and he saw your name!
So at practice he told Atushi about it
"Hey Mura, you knew your s/o was in choir?" "What? No lemme see"
You didnt tell him that you were in choir so you were surprised to see him there!
After your performance he gave you chocolate
"That was amazing Y/N-chin, I'll give you sweets if you sing for me"
You can always spot your baby in the crowd :)
Kagami
He was at your house
You have a calendar on your wall and he saw you had a day circled and you had put "choir concert" in the small square
So he asked you about it!
"Babe, are you in choir?"
"Oh yeah! I love it"
And of course he came to your concert, he wanted to see his baby in action :)
Boy was he surprised
At the end of the performance he had to pick his jaw up off the ground
He was so proud of you
He congratulated you on you amazing performance and he now comes to every show
Another show off
He's always in the first row looking at you like the proudest boyfriend in the world
Kuroko
He knew but he didn't tell you he knew
Also he wanted to keep it surprise
You didn't see him but he was there!
After your performance, he came up and congratulated you.
You were so surprised to see him there!
"Y/N you did amazing out there, I loved hearing you sing."
He comes to every performance, even though you might have trouble finding him sometimes lol
Teppei
Funny story he met you in the hospital
You had put to much strain on your vocal cords so you had made an appointment
Teppei being Teppei, he struck up a conversation with you in the waiting room and that's how he found out you were in an elite choir
He noticed that you were in Serin's uniform and that was a wrap
So a few months down the line and you two are in a happy and thriving relationship :)
This was your his first time going to your concert so you were both excited!
He was so amazed by your skills, in awe, mouth wide open
After your concert he gave you a big hug and congratulated you
"That was amazing baby! Just when I thought you couldn't get any better you prove me otherwise!"
Always goes to your concert and you swear you can see his smile even if he was all the way in back rows
Junpei
He walked in on you practicing after school!
He thought he was alone until he walked in on you singing!
He had no idea his s/o had pipes
"You can sing babe??? When's your concert??"
When the day arrived, he and the other second years came to see you in action
You had then stunned with your talent and wonderful performance!
After your part ended, you could hear him shout "That's my s/o!!" even over all of the applause
He was so proud of you and he loves to tell people that he's the boyfriend of an amazing singer
He loves showing you off and comes to every single concert and you can always hear him over the crowd :)
I hope you liked these! Sorry these took so long to get out! I don't watch glee so I hope these don't disappoint! Thank you for requesting and feedback is appreciated :) <33
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wagner-fell · 3 years
Text
I am still very new to this website and I don’t know how link a post but this fic is based on a post by @sandersgrey
(If someone reading this knows how to link a post please either explain it to me or link it in the comments because that post is *amazing*)
“Hmmm,” said Tessa, depositing Mina into Kit’s waiting arms and examining her buzzing phone critically. She shot a quizzical look in his direction.
Jem looked up from his novel. “What is ‘hmmm’, my love?”
Kit mimed vomiting but stopped dead in his tracks when she replied, “it’s Astrid’s mother. You remember her from parent teacher night, don’t you, my darling?” Kit swears they were being extra insufferable just to mess with him but he didn’t have the time to be annoyed when Astrid’s. Mom. Was. Calling. Tessa.
To understand why Kit was panicking as much as he was, you must know that Astrid’s mom was incredibly chill. She never got mad. The worst punishment she’d ever given her daughter was taking away her iPod for a week so she couldn’t listen to Mitski.
Was she calling about last night when Astrid, Mari and Kit threw eggs at the Shadowhunter’s that were giving Mari’s pack a hard time for no reason? No, that couldn’t be it. She’d given them the eggs.
Could the call be about the day before yesterday when Kit and Astrid got distracted doing homework and ended up snapping the coffee table clean in half while battling gladiator style with pool noodles? No, that wasn’t it. She’d just handed Astrid a twenty and told them to go to Kevin’s parents' shop and get a new one. Was she pissed because they ended up spending the money on ice cream instead? No, they ended up finding a table for free in the rubbing bin outside a fancy hotel.
Kit clutched his sister to his chest and prepared for the worst.
“Seo-yoon! What can I do for- Oh, hello Astrid!” Tessa paused briefly, presumably to listen to Astrid speak, and Kit sighed in relief.
“Kit is occupied at the moment but I can relay the message.” Another pause. “Oh don’t be frightened of me. I’m a tots rad mom. Your secret is safe with me.” Kit felt his face flush red as he heard his best friend’s laughter echo across the living room. “Okay! I’ll let him know. He has to get Mina to sleep before he can leave though. Lord knows he’s the only one who can these days.” Tessa chuckled at something Astrid said before wishing her good luck in her endeavour and ending the call.
She turned her attention back to Kit. “Astrid needs your help breaking into your teacher’s home to retrieve her cell phone.”
Kit blinked at her, dumbfounded. “You aren’t mad I’m going to go break the law?”
Because of course he was doing it. Astrid’s dad had bought it for her and he was extremely cautious about money. That was one of three things Kit knew about her dad. He was cheap, he lived in America and he loved the movie Fight Club.
Tessa ruffled Kit’s hair affectionately. “Please. I’ve raised two other Herondales. At least I know about this particular adventure beforehand.”
Mina began snoring softly and Kit handed her back to her mother. He grabbed his bag and started his journey to the door when Tessa added, “she also told me to say hi to a ‘daddy Kit’. Are you ‘daddy Kit?’”
‘Daddy Kit’ closed his eyes and wished for the sweet release of death.
“Why is Kit a daddy,” Jem asked, genuinely confused. “Aren’t I the daddy?”
Kit swung the door open so fast not even a speed rune could have aided him. But not before I heard Tessa reply, “Lily Chen certainly thinks so.”
Mrs. MacNamara clapped her hands together. “Why don’t we all go around and say a few things about ourselves?”
Kit buried his face into his hands. He’d been relieved when no other teacher had fulfilled the Disney channel stereotype of making every student introduce themselves to the new kid. But Mrs. MacNamara didn’t even seem to realize what she was doing.
All Kit’s fellow classmates groan. Expect one. Her hand shot up immediately. She was short, like smaller than Clary short. She wore a baggy pink shirt with the words ‘Queen Glimmer of Etheria’ sewed on with purple sequins and tight black jeans. Her colourful, choppy hair was in a low ponytail and she flew a few strands out of her eyes as her hand wiggled in the hair.
Mrs. MacNamara pointed at her. She stood up and smiled at Kit. “Hi. My name is Astrid. My hobbies include making my little cousin’s girl Barbies kiss, as it should be, and watching television shows where everyone is a terrible person so you can love all of them!”
“And what shows might that be?” asked Kit, already in the process of pulling out his phone and opening the Notes app.
“Grey’s Anatomy, Glee, Grey’s Anatomy again because it’s seventeen seasons as of right now. And to be fair it practically became a different show when they killed off Mark Sloan.”
“That’s enough, Miss Yang,” said Mrs. MacNamara. Astrid sat down and winked at Kit. Then she took out her phone and airdropped him a complete list of all her favorite shows, along with her number.
After Blessica’s pre-birthday birthday party, they went to Cirenworth and stayed up till four A.M. binging them.
They met outside a queer dry bar called Aries Not Welcome, the unspoken gathering place of the Merry Hoes. It was run by a poly lesbian couple in their mid-thirties. Quinn, Sydney and Aliyah may not have served alcohol but at least they were open 24/7.
“Did you bring the shit?”
Kit gave her a look. “The shit? How conclusive.”
“Shut up. You know, the shadowhunter thing.”
“The shadowhunter thing?”
“The, the, the glow stick that you draw with.”
“The glow stick that I draw wi-“ Kit closed his eyes briefly. “Do you mean a stele?”
Astrid snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Kit shook his head in exasperation, smiling fondly. “I borrowed a torch from Quinn, let’s move.”
“Should I be worried that you know where Mr. Smith lives?” questioned Kit as he followed Astrid’s lead through the park.
“Should I be worried that your mom was fine with us breaking and entering?” she shot back playfully. Kit pushed Astrid and she fell off the path, laughing all the way.
“You called me ‘daddy’ to my mom’s face.”
She just laughed harder, slinging her arm around Kit’s shoulder. “It was over the phone, Christopher. And as I should.”
“Pffffttt. Why did you get your phone taken anyway?” She put her hands into her jumper pocket and looked at the ground. “Astrid.” She remained silent. “Astrid?”
She mumbled something under her breath. “What?” asked Kit.
“I WAS READING NINEJ FANFICTION!” she shouted.
Kit gasped. “I thought you were a die hard Kanej shipper,” he whispered.
“I’m a multishipper, okay?!” she replied, equally quiet.
“Does Blessica know?”
She shook her head. “And she will never find out.”
Kit saw the opportunity and he seized it. “She’ll never find out as long as you never call me daddy in front of either of my parents.”
She removed her arm from his shoulder and guided them out of the park, in the direction of the many apartments that lined this side of town. “I hate you.”
“Well, so does Mari. You're not special, Ast.”
She rolled her eyes. “You know Mari doesn’t actually hate you, right?! They’re just still in the enemy phase of your enemies-to-lovers romance. She only dislikes you because they feel something for you but they don’t know what so she interrupts it as loathing. In reality, her inner soul knows you’re hot and shmexie.”
Kit didn’t know how to process this so he just nodded and follow Astrid in silence to Mr. Smith’s house. (Plus, he was kinda glad that, according to his best friend, he had a little more time for Mari to ‘discover their true feelings’. If Kit screwed this up, he was out of countries to run off to.)
“Oh you have got to be fucking kidding me.”
“What,” asked Kit, turning around to face Astrid and closing the drawer he was rifling through. “Did you find your phone?”
“Yeah. But I also found Blessica’s. She was Snapping Kevin. Platonic my ass. But he took the fucking trans flag out of her phone!”
Kit snatched Blessica’s phone out of her hand to examine it for herself. She was telling the truth. Where the glitter pride flag usually rested was just a clear purple case. Kit couldn’t believe his eyes.
“It’s one thing to misgender her every day.” Blessica had forced all four of the other Merry Hoes to sign a contract saying they wouldn’t do anything to harm him because of it. “But this is the last straw. You know what we have to do.” Oops.
“Yeah, but we don’t have any spray paint.”
Kit eyed Mr. Smith’s pink sofa, blue bar stool covers and white picture frames. “I think I have something better in mind.”
It would have been easier for both parties to just zip off the sofa cushions and tape them to the wall but by ripping them off in strips, they ensured he would have to buy new ones. And judging by the car he drove and the fiji water in his fridge, Mr. Smith could definitely afford it.
That reminded him, “I’ll finish up with this. Go put all his fiji water into my bag.” Astrid saluted him and ran off. “Wait.” She stopped and looked at him. “Steal all the remotes you can find.”
“How is he not awake?,” asked Astrid as they ripped the fabric of his seating from the stool.
He shrugged. “Don’t question it.” He shoved the bundle of cloth into her arms. “Glue this above the pink. I’ll handle the frames.”
“Say the magic word,” she sang.
“Please?”
“No. Lesbian. Come on, I thought you knew me better than that.”
Kit laughed quietly. “Can you lesbian glue this above the pink?”
She grinned at Kit. “It would be my pleasure.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hello! Sorry I haven’t written anything in so long. School just restarted and it has been…a lot.
@adoravel-fenomeno @thechangeling @the-blackdale @the-wckd-powers @thomas-gaypanic-lightwood @im-not-ruined-im-ruination @ithurielkeepsgettingkidnapped @noah-herondale-lightwood @arangiajoan @shelvesofgold @maxboythedog @book-dragon-not-worm @hardlymatters
Very sorry if I forgot anyone. Lmk if you want to be addEd/removEd from the tag list.
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lydias--stiles · 3 years
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canon juke fluff based on “till forever falls apart” by ashe and finneas
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Raucous laughter disappeared in a snap as the door slammed behind her. Her feet stumbled from the sudden change, finding her balance again and then hopping towards the garden gate. She left a glitter trail in her wake.
Julie turned seventeen today. She knew it’d be special the second she woke up, Carlos blaring ‘Dancing Queen’ like a little shit before her alarm clock went off. It was the most brotherly way he could congratulate her and she loved him for it. (Not after she chased him though - who the hell did that?!)
Flynn came by during breakfast, phasing through Alex without realising as she placed a glittery crown atop Julie’s curls. It was plastic and clunky and the number 17 was pink and glowed in the dark. Luke sat on the kitchen island teasing her for it, Reggie helping Ray make pancakes and yelling he wanted one too. It was barely seven am and her day was the best.
At school, she was showered with birthday wishes and her Instagram flooded with messages of people that confirmed they’d come to her party.  
Despite everything, her traitorous thoughts always ended up in the same spot. Luke. He teased her at breakfast, but he didn’t hug her like Alex and Reggie. He didn’t poof beside her as she walked down the driveway to quickly impart a joke or a secret or a lyric, something for her to mull about on the trek to school with Flynn. There was nothing.
On the one hand, it could just be pre-performance jitters. Luke took every gig a hundred percent seriously and got pretty intense if a lot of people were going to be watching. If he didn’t set the stage on fire in one song, he’d feel like he failed. So yeah, Julie allowed herself to think that was the case for his absentmindedness.
If only she didn’t know him so well. She knew it was something else entirely. She knew it had to do with her age; the fact that she aged. It was hard to not let it temper her birthday excitement, but all she wished for (just like when she blew out her candles for her sixteenth birthday) was for them to hide in her daydreams and be together without qualms. That he was hers.
Luke and her have made plenty of mistakes over the two years that they’ve known each other. Falling in love wasn’t one. She couldn’t believe that - even if he’d given her mixed signals since their fated gig at The Orpheum.
The party was a hit. Dad bought a big peanut butter chocolate cake and they played their best set ever, the studio decorated in an explosion of flowers and butterflies and streamers. Julie was in a glittery purple dress, the crown to match, each lyric coming from her lips laced with glee and pink lemonade. That perpetual thrill coursing through her as she danced with Reggie and hyped up Alex and - her favourite part of all - shared the mic with Luke. His aloof behaviour from before was gone then, coming towards her in that greedy way that made her heart stutter out of place.
Julie wondered if anyone ever believed he was a hologram prior to the band ‘moving to America’. How could they, when he’s always looked so alive and real and warm and with his eyes so intently on hers that it felt like he bore through her, straight to her soul.
Pushing through the sensation, she shot him a teasing grin and returned to the piano.
After the set, Flynn put her DJ skills to good use and put on a killer playlist. Julie danced until her feet ached, sang along until her throat hurt, ate cake until she was full. She was happy and seventeen. As the hours went by, more and more classmates trickled away, ending with her family hoarding the kitchen island as they ate the remnants of cake. All except one.
It hurt. Julie knew Luke was brooder - but on her birthday? Because he couldn’t handle it? Tomorrow, she'd be on her way to surpass them. First Reggie, then Alex and then Luke. Was it selfish of her for wanting to spend time with him? For wanting to dance with him? If just once? If Alex and Reggie could, why couldn’t he?
Without a second thought (or third, fourth, fifth - it was always and forever tethered to Luke), she stumbled out the front door towards the garden gate. Glitter stuck to the pavement.
The light was on in the studio, their safe haven surrounded by fallen decorations as if a storm had passed. Her bare foot kicked a balloon, a smile tugging on her lips as the purple thing drifted and bounced against the trees.
She slid the doors open. There he was.  
“Luke?”
His back was turned towards her, head bent over the grand piano as he fervently wrote in his trusty songbook. More songs were theirs than just his in there, she knew, and it left her warm.
He perked up, head turning, a gentle smile on his lips. “Hey birthday girl. You look like shit.”
She laughed, coming closer, and watched as more glitter fell to the floor. She must look like a sweaty, exhausted disco ball. Despite this, a sense of calmness washed over her. Luke was here and he was smiling at her and everything made sense again.
“Thanks,” she jabbed. “You look even worse.”
Tensing his muscles, as if she hadn’t seen them before, he smirked. “Please. The sweat makes my arms look better.”
The smile stuck to her cheeks, stupidly enamoured by his silliness, and remembered a time when she didn’t allow herself to feel like this. But that was before the late night sessions in the studio, before he became corporeal, before he placed tender kisses on her forehead before important gigs, as if infusing her with the power to kill it, before he hung out in her room and before he allowed her to know more about 90s-Luke. (There wasn’t much difference. According to his stories, he was just as endearing then.)
Before one frustrated kiss between them, months ago, nearly blew everything up. If the band and their connection wasn’t so tight, she didn’t know what would’ve happened. They never spoke about it. Perhaps the knowledge that it happened, the idea that it could happen again, realising that her daydreams weren’t one-sided - it left her yearning. Who would blame her? She was seventeen.  
The kiss had been a mistake, but that ‘stupidly enamoured’ feeling? It was only a natural reaction. She didn’t want anyone else.
Crossing the final distance, Julie tightly wrapped her arms around him. Luke held her close, face burrowed in her neck and letting his waning body spray and her flowery perfume melt together.
“You haven’t given me a hug today,” she whispered.
He nodded. “I know.”
She bit back a sigh. This couldn’t be a mistake too. “Why?”
“Cause you’re seventeen,” he muttered. “I can’t pretend you’re-”
“Younger?”
His palms curled around her, pulling back slightly to look her in the eye. The green, bright yet troubled, flitted across her face. Dejected, it dropped to the ground, as if the sight of her brought him wonder and ache at once. Could she tell him it was mutual? Could she-
“Able to be mine.”
It was uttered so quietly, she almost didn’t catch it. It was as if the world went off its axis, both precariously close to falling off the edge and Julie debating whether that would be a bad thing or not. If it really was that insane if it meant she got to be right here, in his arms.
The feeling coiled in her stomach, pushed itself up her ribcage, straight through her heart and slid past her throat. The words danced on her lips, lively and colourful and devoted.
And then she said it. “I love you.”
His eyes slowly locked with hers, a glint of uncertainty found beneath. The lack of surprise on his part would make her laugh had she not been so terrified to lose him completely, all at once. His fingers pressed into her skin, like she’d be the one backtracking her words and running out. Like he wasn’t the one with the ability to vanish from her grasp.
Luke exhaled and dropped his forehead against hers, gaze unwavering. Her instincts told her to shut her eyes, look away, maybe even bridge the gap, but they were so close to finally becoming something. Whatever that might be.  
“Why aren’t you scared?”, he breathed. 
Her nervous hands found solace on his cheeks. “I am scared. And it’s despite that. All I wanted today, Luke, was have you be with me.” And then her eyes clenched tight anyway, overwhelmed by the moment. “I’m scared and- and despite everything… I love you.”
Her vulnerability hanging by a thread, she watched as he processed her words. She had no clue if she said or did the right thing, though her hands were frozen in place. Her heart rate picked up when he mirrored her, calloused fingers slipping from her shoulders to her face.
Luke swallowed, hard. “I’m sorry that- that I’ve been distant. But I’m scared and not for the reasons you think. I’m scared cause-” His chuckle was like a candle awakening in a dark cave. “-cause I don’t wanna spend a minute loving anyone else.”
The previous terror washed away, a brilliant smile blooming on her lips at his confession. Her head tilted, allowing her nose to brush his and sigh when he didn’t pull back.
“I was scared cause I thought you didn’t want that,” he finished.
Her voice drowned in reverence. “I do want that. I want you. Until…” Shaking her head, she let out the truth. “Until the universe takes you back.”
The boy laughed, relief sagging his shoulders and pulling so impossibly close, so tightly it should’ve hurt - had euphoria not been bursting in her chest at the simple action. His watery eyes held all she ever wanted to see. Him. Honestly, truly, him.
“I-”, he stuttered, his own anxious smile stopping him. Her thumbs pressed into the lines, urging him to keep going. It softened, in that earnest way only he knew of. “I think I fell back on this earth to be with you, Julie. I think- I know I’m yours.” That incredulous laugh erupted from his chest again, so full, as if it’d been waiting. “I’m so glad I get to hold you.”    
There was so much she wanted to say - that she was his, has always been his, that it was insane because they were so young, but what the hell was time anyway? Julie wanted to be with him, forever, until forever disintegrated like smoke between her fingers.
Now, she cradled his cheeks and he was warm. And he told her he loved her, in ways she never expected him to.
Instead of speaking, Julie kissed him. Her lips were sticky from soda and his still held the taste of lovesick words and lyrics, but it was perfect. Their mouths puckered from smiling, that damned kiss from months ago replaced by this one. It felt as if all her wishes, her restless midnight questions, all were granted by one simple touch. By his arms wrapping around her and hers gripping onto his jaw and hair. So tight, so close, as if the tides of Fate would pull the other away right this second.
But nothing happened that second. And the one after that. And again, again, again. They kissed and the universe allowed them to.
Julie didn’t think there was a more beautiful way to fall in love.
With a quiet thrill leading up her spine, she told him. “I think this year might be fun,” the girl grinned against his lips. “The first year of forever of giving my heart to you.”
His tender gaze rested on hers, relaxed hands caressing her back. Love was a good look on him. “Are you gonna say stuff like that now? To fuck with me?”
She giggled, glee bursting at the seams. “You started!”
“Yeah.” Luke trailed off, a dopey smile glittering his eyes. Just as he leaned in for another kiss, he stilled. “Oh! I was writing some stuff for a song!” Nodding at the discarded notebook on the piano, he asked: “Wanna work on it?”
Just like that, they were back to being Luke and Julie. Singers, musicians, writing partners, best friends, each other’s forever.
Propping the glittery crown on his head, she matched his fond expression and went to sit on the piano bench. “Yeah, show me.”
Julie would look back on that moment and smile. Two seventeen year olds, defying Fate and the Universe and everything in between, mocking the stars that yes, Luke and her did belong together. There was strength in knowing their forever was predetermined, that they knew it wouldn’t be eternal, but that that was okay. Every second mattered then. Every laugh became fuller, a kiss more passionate, a smile brighter. They spent a lifetime, counted in quick adolescent years, sharing their hearts.
For a while, Luke was hers. And forevermore would they be together - in the whispers of songs, in memories, in lingering cologne on clothing.
It was the sweetest, most adventurous romance of all.  
But that wasn’t important now. Luke sat next to her, held his notebook out, and together they did what they knew best. When the clock struck midnight, all he did was kiss her again.
“You know,” he muttered, lips brushing her ear. “The things we said? Might make for a killer song.”  
Julie’s nose scrunched up in delight, thumbing to a fresh page and clicking her pen. Nuzzling into his neck and interlacing their free hands, she swore she felt it. Their tether. It was real - just as real as him loving her and her loving him. It was there. She took a deep breath.  
“Let’s do it.”
✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨
@blush-and-books​ @bluefirewrites​ @unsaid-emily​ @willexx​ @ourstarscollided​ @constantly-singing​ @ruzek-halstead​
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acourtofsnakes · 3 years
Text
Jetii'kad - Rogue, Chapter 22| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader
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GIF by @di-kut​​
Summary: Your training with Ahsoka moves on to new, exciting levels and a comms call with Din threatens to shatter the peace of the last few weeks. 
Warnings: Not too many in this actually. Swearing - I don’t think there is, but I’ll pop it on just in case, injury, falling, me making things up about Jedi training
Word Count: 5k+
A/N: Oh, dear. 
Rogue Msterlist: 1: Solus | 2: Arir | 3: Tor | 4: Gaa'tayl ^ | 5: Kyr’am | 6: Cabur ^ | 7: Ret'urcye Mhi | 8: Haran | 9. E’tad | 10: Tome * | 11: Aliit Ori'shya Tal'din * | 12: Mar’eyce**^ | 13: Kov’nyn | 14: Ne’tra ^ | 15: Or’dinii | 16: Dar | 17: Haalur | 18: Mesh’la** | 19: Talyc ^^ | 20: Jorhaa'ir ^^ | 21: Hibirar | 
Rogue| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f) Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo @the-bottom-of-the-abyss @jackgrzs @sarahjkl82-blog @boomtownboy @goldielocks2004 @seninjakitey @what-iwish-you-knew @queenofthefaceless @rosiefridayrogersunday @greeneyedblondie44 @itsnottilly @welcometothepedroverse @xgoldenjenny @mamacitapascal @heyitsjaybird @amyk-37 @greatcircle79
Permanent Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @mypedrom @undiscovered-misunderstood @kaylee-krystal
Mando’a Translation: Jetii’kad - Lightsaber; Literally: Sword of the Jedi
Another couple of weeks had passed, and things were still going incredibly well. 
You were flying through your training, and Ahsoka was continually impressed with you. There were still days where your past threatened to choke you, but Ahsoka was there to help you work it through. 
Din had taken to going on small hints that took him away for a few days at a time. He was comfortable and satisfied that the pair of you and the kids were safe here - and happy. 
Ahsoka had previously had some trouble with the town, but that had been resolved now and she still chose to reside here on Corvus peacefully whilst looking for things herself.
So, Din had gone off after getting a comms message from Greef about some small bounty missions. 
He’d been uncharacteristically like a mother hen the first time he left. You’d had to practically throw him in the Crest and send it into the sky yourself. He’d also checked in every night and morning, making sure everyone was okay and you weren’t pushing yourself too hard. 
It didn’t bother you, his worrying or checking in. If anything, it just filled you with a blissfully sweet warmth that wrapped around your heart and soul. 
You hadn’t had anyone do such things in… far longer than you could remember. 
And maybe because you were equally as worried about him. 
Oh, to be in love. 
You did miss him when he was gone, there was no denying that.
He had been by your side almost every single day since he picked you up on Sorgan, and to not have him there was a bit of a shock. You found yourself turning around to say something to him... only he wasn’t there. It wasn’t just the conversation either, it was the little things. 
Like the brush of his hand over your lower back or hand, his shoulder bumping against yours as you walked, him flanking you like a broad, metallic guard. 
Even just the sound of his laughter or the soft clink of beskar as he moved. 
It felt like he had taken a limb with him, leaving you unbalanced and off-centre. 
Although had you been truly on your own, it would have been a hell of a lot worse. But there were a few things in particular that made it easier. Training, the kids and Ahsoka of course, but mainly... the next thing you had moved onto. 
Lightsaber training. 
You hadn’t expected to even get near the training sabers - poles of the same size and near weight of lightsabers, used to get acquainted with the momentum and movements - for months. But Ahsoka had informed you a couple days ago that she truly believed you were ready so soon. Like you were born for this. 
You were ecstatic, beside yourself with glee when you told Din over your comms call that night that you’d be starting. The man had been so proud of you, complimenting you the whole call until the praise turned his voice to a lower pitch, that honey rasp that heated your blood and your call had turned into a very different kind of praise and reward until the early hours of the morning. 
All the stars above, this man would be the death of you one day. 
Ahsoka had pretended not to notice the lingering flush on your cheeks the next morning as she set you to work with the poles, explaining the basics of grip and balance.
At first, you were rather clumsy. Your weapons of choice were either a bow, daggers or long knives. At the most, you’d sometimes practised with Din’s beskar spear, but a saber would be a length between your longest knife and Din’s spear.
Hence why you spent the first day with the training pole slipping out of your hands, nearly taking off your foot at one point. 
However, you kept going, determined to prove that Ahsoka’s pride and instincts about you hadn’t been wrong. 
That your own steadily growing belief in yourself hadn’t been wrong either. 
After your nightly calls with Din, you took yourself off to the edge of the clearing, practicing your saber movements. 
You worked through the drills Ahsoka gave you in the day, spinning and whirling until you could move across the floor of the clearing silently, whipping the training pole through the air like an extension of your arm. 
You knew a real one would take more practice, more care and precision but this was a good start – you were proud of yourself, actually. 
There was only one thing bothering you and you hadn’t told Din or Ahsoka. 
See, there was this… feeling inside you. A small, swirling darkness that sat in your chest. 
It wasn’t the same as the heavy cloud that sometimes lowered over your mood and mind… No, this was a different kind of darkness. 
This darkness yearned for… destruction. Devastation. 
To bring down pain and fury on all of those that hurt you. To tear apart their lives the way yours had been torn. But not just your life, but the people that had hurt Din and Grogu. 
Those who had made Ahsoka choose to banish herself. 
And it scared you because, well… you had wanted those things for a long, long time. From back when your powers were once again dormant, and you often hesitated between knocking a hunter out – or killing them. And when that dark cloud had first emerged, it gave you the power to butcher those who dared come after you. 
That was the first time your bounty price has risen. Word got out that you were taking down elite members of the Guild, Stormtroopers, high ranking noble fighters from far off planets. 
The scared little girl with no family had given way to a deadly assassin who would strike with the speed of a serpent and had the venom of one too. 
That same version of yourself often walked in your dreams, and lately, you felt her lingering at the shadows around your peripheral. She had risen from her long slumber, triggered perhaps by the understanding of Haran’s words, back when he had kidnapped you. 
This assassin… she would recognise the horrors he had committed, the monster that prowled in his skin but… she would understand. Because the same monster prowled beneath her own skin. 
Two kindred spirits who’s lives had been torn apart by monsters who refused to understand. 
And last night… last night you’d awoken from a dream-like state, only to find yourself nearly a mile from the camp. 
As if you were going for that hunt right away. 
You’d been shaken, that lingering craving for destruction still sitting heavy in your chest as you hurried back to camp. 
No. 
You couldn’t tell the others at all. 
~~
“So, are you ready to move onto the next stage of your training today?” Ahsoka faced you across the clearing you often practiced in, the strange, murky haze shifting today to something closely resembling sunlight. 
You nodded, trying not to look too eager as you watched her, limbs already loosened up and warmed, ready to go. “Ready.” 
Ahsoka smiled a little at your eagerness, her hands clasped behind her back, “Now, this is usually something that Jedi get trained to do near the end of their learning. After they’ve mastered the essentials of the Force, honed them to use in everyday life and in battle, they have to learn the theory and history of this next part. Then extensive training and only after they’ve proved with the practice weapons that they won’t take off someone’s leg or their own arm, then they are simply just considered for this next phase.”
You began to read where she was going with this, and you had to bite your lip to contain the squeal of excitement that threatened to burst forth from your chest. 
She knew this, of course. 
“But, you’ve risen up through the training quicker than even I thought. And with the life you lead…  I don’t see why you aren’t ready.” She moved her arms from behind her, holding out her hand. 
She was holding out a tube. 
A sleek, silver tube that was ever so slightly curved… it was one of her own. 
She was going to let you train with one of her own lightsabers. 
Your head snapped up to look at her as your breathing caught in your throat, “Ashoka… This is… I can’t use this. What if I break it?” You gripped your own elbows, forcing your hands not to be all grabby and reach for it like they so desperately yearned to. 
Ahsoka chucked softly despite herself, “What did I teach you?” She still held out the saber, the hazy sun glinting off of the metal. 
You thought back to all your lessons, but already knew where she was going with this, “Never doubt my Master.” 
She raised an eyebrow, wiggling the tube almost teasingly, “And?” 
You puffed out a breath through your cheeks, rolling your eyes, “Never doubt myself.” You shot her a look, all playful, friendly bantering… because she was right. 
She grinned beautifully, a rare sight, “See. I wouldn’t let you touch this if I didn’t think you were ready. Or trust you.” Her expression softened, “You have nothing to fear from yourself, Padawan.” She used the name affectionately, remembering it from her own times of being young and unsure, eager to prove herself. 
You studied her face, reading the confidence there, the understanding, and you thought of the belief in yourself that had been regrowing for a while now. Almost immediately, your shoulders relaxed, and you let go of your arms, instead reaching out for the saber. You hesitated for a brief moment, but then took it, holding it carefully and bringing it back toward your body. 
As soon as you touched it, you could have sworn it thrummed with energy, a gentle pulse that sung through your blood and veins and spoke to you. It made you feel immediately… whole. Settled. 
This had been what you were missing. 
Ahsoka watched you, studying the was your face softened, the light growing in your eyes. Your stance had changed too, more balanced and self-assured. “Activate it.” 
You looked up at her, holding your breath for a moment and you lifted the saber, taking a second to think. 
All your life… had been leading to this moment, really. 
As soon as you activated this saber, you were stepping into the role that had been in your blood, always. Not a Jedi, but something different. 
Entirely unique.
Every trauma you had gone through, every wave of pain as you tried to restrain your true self. The stigma and fear, the admiration from those that believed and chose to help you… even if it had ended up in their own demise, despite your best efforts. 
This all flashed through your mind quickly, before it cleared. Emptying of everything but the cool, flowing feeling of the Force and so, you shifted your thumb and activated it. 
Glowing, white energy burst upward as the crystal was activated, pushing away the murky haze and filling the small area around you with that pure light. 
Beautiful, radiant… true. 
Ahsoka Tano smiled more, activating her remaining lightsaber with that pulsing hum, “And now we begin.” 
~~
The moon shone high in the murky sky, casting everything with a milky glow as you settled into your tree of choice. 
It was your nightly call to Din, and you often called him whilst perched in one of the more substantial trees, so as to not disturb Ahsoka with the noise. You knew she fell asleep late and rose early, but you still wanted to be polite. 
It was also more to make sure Grogu didn’t wake up – he was a little monster for not going back to sleep again. Din called in the day sometimes, to speak to Grogu but the nights… they were just for the two of you. 
You watched the hologram display, which told you the call was patching through. 
Your model of the comms watch didn’t allow for video calls, but its sound quality was crystal clear, almost as if you were standing right next to Din. 
You almost hadn’t been able to wait for your call tonight, to tell him all about your day learning. 
The training had gone… really, really well. 
Ahsoka had shown you the basics of handling the saber so you wouldn’t slice through your toes, how to move with the glowing beacon of energy and use it most effectively. 
It was different to the training spears, but it was a concept you grasped quickly. 
Your past training and skill in combat came in useful, for you were already light and nimble on your feet. 
The pair of you had trained over and over, until you were both dancing across the clearing, spinning and leaping around each other, aided by the Force and lighter than the air itself. 
It was a spectacular light show for the kids, who were cheering – or meowing – in delight throughout the whole thing. 
And, at the end, when you were both panting and a little flushed, Ahsoka had dropped to a knee in front of you, inclining her head in a soft bow, “It’s an honour to fight with you, and teach you.” 
Ahsoka Tano… praising you. Feeling honoured by you. 
By the Maker and all the stars above, you still couldn’t get over that. 
There was more to learn, much more, but Ahsoka had been so impressed, she promised a day off tomorrow where the four of you would explore some of the rare, beautiful spots on the planet. 
You had so much to tell Din. 
It took Din little longer than usual for him to answer, but you put that down simply to the distance between you, and the storm that Ahsoka said was going to roll in soon. 
A few minutes later, the ringing tone pinged, and Din’s voice filled the air, “Hey, sweetheart.” 
Those two simple words, the gentle rasp of them that was all honey and roughness just instantly soothed your very soul. It caressed over your body, much like Din’s hands, and you let out a soft sigh, your chest loosening, “Hey, Din… How are you?” 
There was a lot of wind his end, rushing through the mic but then it stopped, like he’d turned a different way, “I’m okay, tired. But better hearing your voice.” 
Sweet-talker.
You grinned to yourself, tilting back your head, “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?” Your leg swung lazily from the branch, a picture of relaxation now that you were talking to your love. 
Din grunted, the wind suddenly roaring through the line again, blocking out whatever he was saying to you. 
You frowned, wincing as the gust made the line all staticky, “Din, what are you doing? It sounds like you’re on the back of one of those reptavian from Nevarro.” However, the hairs on the back of your neck stood up, a sense telling you that you weren’t going to like whatever came next. 
There were a few moments hesitation, and you could almost hear Din wishing the ground – or maybe air – would swallow him whole, “Um…” 
Oh. 
You really weren’t going to like this. 
Dread coiled with apprehension in your belly, a tight feeling creeping along your skin, “Um? What do you mean, um? Tell me, Din.” There was a sharpness to your tone, one that he knew well. 
It was a ‘don’t you dare lie to me’ tone. 
A very soft noise over the wind and Din started to speak, but then was cut off by a burst of rapid, loud fire. 
Blaster fire. 
He was being shot at. 
Your heart nearly dropped through your stomach, and you had to grab hold of the tree branch so you didn’t fall out. A light trembling shook your hands, but your voice was still steady, “Din Djarin, was that blaster fire?!” 
It sounded like Din seemingly retaliated, because then his voice came back, “Okay… Okay, promise me you won’t get mad.” There was a pleading note to his words, but it seemed like he was cringing, waiting for the blow up.
“Too late.” You hissed those two words through gritted teeth, heart pounding with fear in your chest. “If you keep avoiding my questions, it’s going to get a whole lot worse.” 
Din sucked in a breath, and then let it out all in a rush, “I’m at an Imperial base.” 
Silence from you. 
So quiet, Din would have been able to hear the owls in the trees. Maybe even the fire crackling down below. 
The words echoed around in your mind slowly, unfolding and repeating. 
He had to be joking. Din wouldn’t be that reckless.
“Sweetheart…?” Din was hesitant, worried by your silence, when he’d been expected fire - and shouting. 
You closed your eyes, more to rein in your impending anger, to give you something to focus on, so that your voice remained quiet when you spoke, “And what, might I ask, are you doing at an Imperial base?”
He audibly swallowed, still grunting and seemingly dodging the shots being fired at him from Stormtroopers, “Well, I was on a hunt and I found talk of an Imp base nearby causing trouble in the town. I asked what it was and…” He hesitated for a second before realising that might simultaneously worry you and make you even more mad “And the townspeople told me they were looking for someone. Someone with a huge bounty… a girl.”
It was like someone poured ice water over your body. 
There was a whole Imp base… looking for you?
Sure, a few Stormtroopers had come after you before, and then those ones that had ambushed you before Haran showed up but... a whole base…
Don’t think about that though. That’s secondary.
“Okay… And what, they sold you out to the Imps? Told them you were hunting nearby?” Maybe you had jumped to conclusions a little quickly. 
Of course Din wouldn’t have gone to a base and ambushed it. If the townspeople wanted to stop the trouble, maybe they thought giving information to the Imps would be a good idea.  It would make sense. Plenty of people had sold you out the very same way to save themselves, and you hadn’t been able to blame them. 
More blaster fire, but it was a little further away this time. It still didn’t stop you flinching with each shot, waiting for the inevitable grunt of pain from Din.
“Uhm… not exactly. I… asked Cara and a few old friends to help me. We… infiltrated it and tried to find the information they had on you, but they realised who we were.” Din’s voice was halted, stumbling over the word ‘infiltrated’. It was choked somehow, as if was grappling with retelling you the story. 
Something had happened in there… And then it occurred to you. 
If they infiltrated the base… Din wouldn’t have bene able to waltz in there with his beskar armour on. 
He would have to have blended in. 
Which meant… he took off the armour. 
Before you could mention it, he was talking, his words quieter in that voice that meant trouble, “We managed to get out and…”
The trembling had taken over your entire body, a voice in your head chiming that Din was lying, that he was joking with you because he wouldn’t do this, he wouldn’t do what you knew he was going to say… “And?” A single word, weighted. 
You heard Din swallow, and then, “We kind of… blew it up…” 
Silence, again. 
Laughter then suddenly burst from your mouth, albeit slightly hysterical laughter, but still. One minute you were staring at the moon in utter horror, and the next you were doubled over in fits of giggles.
“Sweetheart…?” Now Din just sounded concerned. He had expected another blow up the moment you realised what was going on, and so far, none of it had happened the way he thought. And now here you were, laughing? 
You shook your head even though he couldn’t see you, “I’m sorry, it’s just – for a moment there, I really believed you!” You covered your mouth, trying to stifle the increasing hysteria, “I really believed you had infiltrated an Imperial base with a tiny crew, to find information out on me you could have got from capturing an Imp, and then you make it even better by trying to convince me you blew up a base!” You leant back against the tree, your heart rate picking up unsteadily, sweat pooling in your hands and you felt your power thrum through your blood. 
“Darling - ”
“Ooh, you really nearly had me there, Din. And I’m so glad you’re joking, because no way would you yell at me endlessly for getting kidnapped and then plunged into a frozen lake – none of which was my fault – telling me I’m reckless and stupid… and then go off on a little joyride to destroy Imperial strongholds.” The laughter was melting away, your voice getting more frantic and pleading, like you were begging him to tell you he was joking. 
The wind rushed through the comm’s call again, the sounds of Din twisting in the air, presumably with the Rising Phoenix to steer clear of the ground forces, “Sweetheart, listen to me.” His voice was steady, soothing, “I’m fine, okay? I’m completely fine. I’m not doing this to be reckless, or stupid, or hypocritical. They have information on you and there are hundreds of them. If they’re gone, they can’t hurt you. They won’t know where to find you.” 
His words were doing nothing to soothe you, “Don’t patronise me, Din. You can’t tell me you’re fine and then tell me there are hundreds of Troopers after you. There are only… what, four of you?” Your breathing was coming in sharp pants now, images of Din’s broken body, blood on white armour and dark dungeons flashing through your mind’s eye.
“Five.” Din spoke the word softly, and you nearly didn’t hear it over the rushing wind and sounds of fighting. 
Another laugh that sounded more like a sob, “Oh, five? Like that’s so much better!! I don’t doubt your abilities, Din. You know I believe in you more than anything in the world, but this is… I can’t believe you would do this.” The words were a trembled whisper at the end, fear clutching at your heart once more. It was starting to choke you, turn your blood to slush and your bones to ice. 
The thought of losing him was something that kept you awake frequently. Sometimes it would hit you out of nowhere in the day, the idea of living the rest of your life without them by your side. 
Gone, little more than a gravestone and memories. 
The thought made you physically sick, having you have to run to the nearest place to expel that terror in heaving gasps. 
You’d hidden that from Ahsoka and Din too. 
Distantly, it occurred to you that you should hang up, let him have his full concentration back but… you couldn’t help the horrid thought that if you hung up... you would never speak to him again.
Din knew this, heard it all in the tone of your voice, in the things you couldn’t and didn’t need to say. He knew you weren’t mad at him, not like that. It was the same anger he had felt when he thought he’d lost you. The gut-wrenching fear of not being able to do anything – the anger at the helplessness. “I promise you; everything is okay. I will be fine; my friends will be fine, and no one will get hurt. We’re nearly done already. Breathe, sweetheart. You’re not going to lose me. We promised each other, remember?”
That’s true… you had. You’d promised each other that you would never part this life alone. When one left, the other would follow. 
You swallowed, trying to take a deep breath in through your nose and out your mouth, “Okay…. Okay. Just… come home, okay?”
“Of course, darling. I’ll be home just as soon as-”
A piercing pulse shattered his voice, searing through the speaker on your watch with its resounding whistle. 
Your breathing exercises halted immediately, “Din? Din?!” 
No, no no no - 
It means nothing. Just a close call knocking out the signal, that’s all. That’s all it is. 
A burst of static shot into the night air, and then you heard broken up, jagged snippets of Din’s voice, undeterminable pieces of speech. 
“Din, Din I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up... Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay, please Din.” Your throat closed up again, the dark beast in your chest snarling as it tasted that terror, feeding on it and spreading through you with those horrific images. 
The part of you that craved destruction, that shadowy assassin woke up, bringing forth the vengeance, ready to tear them apart piece by piece if Din had been hurt.
More static and wind and then something that you would haunt your waking and sleeping dreams for a very, very long time.  
The signal unjammed, and clear as crystal, you heard Din’s broken cry of pain. Of agony. 
A harsh noise you had never heard before. 
It was stunned, dragged from within him by a wound that must have hit deep and sudden. 
The world seemed to go still on its axis, everything slowing down to a halt.
The entwined golden threads of your lives pulled taut, stretching apart from each other. 
Your heart tore to pieces. 
“DIN!!” His name broke on a sobbing cry, making the surrounding birds take flight from the bare branches, causing Grogu to wake up down below but you didn’t care. 
The line had just gone silent, just as one of those threads began to fray. 
~~
~
He was falling. 
Down, down, down toward the ground, smoke billowing from his back. 
He was an exploding star, a falling planet, hurtling toward the floor with a speed he couldn’t reduce. 
Thirty metres. 
The speed of his fall and the force of it caused darkness to pull over his vision momentarily, casting everything into shadow and silence before it all came flooding back. 
Everything was a blur of colour, whipping past the visor of his helmet in a smudge of brown, grey and green. The wind roared past him, battering the armour that used to be his savour, soon to be his tomb. 
Twenty metres.
The impact of the ground on his armour would shatter his bones and spine, cracking his head open and ending him instantly. 
Maybe he’d be lucky, and it wouldn’t be painful. 
Or he’d pass out before he crashed. 
Ten metres. 
His family was safe, at least. That eased his mind somewhat. It would be hard getting off the planet, but they’d find a way.
Eight metres.
There’d be nothing left of him to find. An anonymous man in a beskar tomb, body broken beyond recognition. The people who would soon find him may very well be the first to see his face in… years. 
Six metres. 
And they weren’t the right ones. 
They weren’t her.
No, he’d finally reached a place where he felt safe to reveal himself. Only his hands first, but that was enough. He wanted to give more, so very badly but… he just couldn’t, not yet. But that was okay. He knew she’d understand, be more than happy with that reveal of the very pieces of his anatomy that had started all of this. 
His hands, running over her skin, tracing the delicate work of her tattoo. 
Three metres. 
Two meters. 
“I love you.” His gasped words were snatched by the air before they even left his lips, and he hoped the wind would carry them to the person they had always belonged to.  
One metre. 
“Goodbye, cyar'ika.”
“Thank you for showing me a world worth living.” 
~~~
~~
“Sir?” 
The young woman’s voice was steady and strong, breaking him from his thoughts as she knocked on the door to the war room. She’d been working here for a year now and had swiftly risen up the ranks. 
She was essentially his right hand, and he knew she wore that token proudly. There were no official titles given, but she was his best officer. 
She had been the one to locate the Mandalorian the first time around – and had also been the one to find the girl. 
That was why he had felt confident when she suggested hiring the Shadow-Born hunter to track them both down. And she hadn’t been wrong yet. 
“What is it, officer?”
She saluted, then stood tall, shoulders back, chin raised enough to be respectful, but not so much it was defiant. She looked him in the eyes, “We’ve found him, sir. He was responsible for blowing up the Imperial base, along with a group of friends, including another Mandalorian, an ex-Shock Trooper, a wanted assassin and a prisoner from the Karthon Chop Fields. The Hunter shot him out of the sky and has already apprehended him. The accomplices are so far unaccounted for.”
A faint smile passed the man’s lips, hunger and victory setting a dark fire in his eyes. He nodded his head to the young officer, “Never-mind the rabble. Good work, officer. Tell them to bring him here. There will already be a cell prepared for him. You know which one.” 
The woman nodded, inclining her head and then she headed off, but not before he saw the small smile she allowed herself. 
Good work indeed. 
She had done more in the past twelve months than any of his senior officers had. Maybe he should see about naming her his official right hand. 
He turned back to the large open window of the cruiser, clasping his hands behind his back, breathing in a deep sigh. 
Finally. 
When the Hunter had let the girl slip through his fingers, he’d been worried that he was being played for a fool. The hunter was unreliable, working to his own twisted agenda. If the Hunter betrayed him, there was no chance for the success and power that he deserved. 
But he needn’t have worried at all. 
He now had the one thing that would guarantee the girls cooperation. He had hoped for the Child too, but he could wait for that. 
It may have been slow going, and people may have called him deluded for trying to bring back the old ways… but here was the proof that things were finally going the way Moff Gideon had planned it all along. 
~~~
~~
If only he knew that his plan had been set in motion by another. The successes were not his to claim. 
The King of Shadows and Destruction was sitting at his board of death, moving each piece as the endgame approached, the final checkmate that would put to rest years and years of waiting and scheming. 
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shutupaboutandraste · 3 years
Note
“Hear this now — I will always come for you” for Fenders? <3
OKAY so like. I saw this and was just immediately inspired and knew exactly what I wanted to write so I hope you like it!
It's more pre-ship, buuuuut still Fenders.
Words: 3203 Pairing: Fenris/Anders For @dadrunkwriting
ACT I
To say Fenris didn’t trust Anders would be an understatement. An abomination through and through, he would never understand Hawke’s trust in him. Perhaps, it was because of her sister-- Bethany always seemed to vouch for him, something else that made Fenris’ head spin. Never before Bethany Hawke had he seen a mage so in control of themself. Yet, there was Bethany who shined in beauty, grace, and kindness all without being possessed or resorting to blood magic. He had only known her for a short time since he was approached by Hawke’s motley crew.
Still, he stuck by them, despite it all. Hawke had become a good friend in the short time he had known her. Even if her taste in women was… questionable. Anyone with eyes could see the tall warrior had affection for the Dalish blood mage of all people. Of course, that did exclude the elf in question. Merrill seemed entirely blind, even when Hawke told her that she was free to call her Aingheal. To everyone else, that name seemed off limits and Merrill seemed content to leave it that way for herself. Strange woman…
There were days he thought about leaving. Danarius could arrive any day on the doorstep of his borrowed mansion any day. The thought of leaving, however, left the taste of ash in his mouth. Little things were what he would miss-- Hawke coming to check in on him, coming back to the mansion to find little plates of food from Merrill, Isabela’s flirting, all of it. Loyalty threaded into Hawke’s group, evident in the way they watched each other’s back in battle to those little gestures Fenris had grown fond of in the past few months. Echoes of his days with the Fog Warriors sang softly within him.
These thoughts tumbled and toppled over each other with each passing day. Fenris took each one in and compartmentalized it within. These were the people that he had thrown his lot in with, for better or worse. Yet, he never knew if Merrill would be possessed by a demon, or whether Anders would suddenly turn on them to fulfill the desires of Vengeance. So, when Anders was still glowing after an encounter with a Tal Vashoth mercenary group on the wounded coast, Fenris leaped into action.
His brands lit up as he reached for Anders. Justice’s glare flashed his way, but he did not flinch. The only thing that stopped him was Hawke’s sword in his way. His heels let him skid to a stop just in time to avoid phasing through it. There was always a chance that phasing through a weapon would just wind up with him impaled.
“What the hell, Fenris?”
Varric whistled, “Easy, Broody! That one is friendly.”
“Hardly,” he snarled, “Why is your demon still active, mage?”
“I AM NO DEMON,” boomed that voice that both was and was not Anders. Still, it didn’t argue further, seemingly releasing Anders for its thrall.
Anders snarled at him, “Justice was fine! You could have killed me!”
Fenris crossed his arms, holding his head high, acting as if he could stand down the taller man, “And you could have killed Hawke.”
Hawke scoffed, “I can fight my own battles. Thanks. Justice doesn’t scare me.”
There she went again, trusting the fool mage and his demon. Even though Fenris had warned her of all he saw in Tevinter, Hawke insisted that she knew better. One day she might live to regret it. Fenris hoped that he didn’t live to see that day. For all his terse nature, he did want Hawke to be right about Anders. So, he let the argument brewing inside him die.
Hawke was a harsh woman. When she spoke, there was no argument, one simply followed. That did not make her unkind, simply firm. It was one of the many things Fenris found himself respecting, all but in awe of. Leadership decorated Hawke like well-fitted armor. There was very little she could do now to waiver his trust in her. The group began heading out, Varric and Hawke immediately taking to counting out the loot as they walked.
Fenris came up to walk beside Anders, “You may have favor with Hawke, mage, but hear this, should you betray her--”
“Why are you so sure of my guilt long before I’ve committed a crime?”
“Should you betray her, hear this now-- I will always come for you. That is a threat.”
ACT II
Putting trust in Hawke was far from misplaced. Long after the Deep Roads, she still remained his friend, helped him when Hadriana came knocking, and trusted him in return. Fenris was a regular member of her party, trusting him even about Aveline whom she had known for far longer. Hawke was a natural, but ruthless in her efficiency. Fenris respected that, even when he wasn’t sure he agreed. Sometimes, Fenris caught Hawke with a wild, angry glint in her eye as she plowed through enemies with an almost sadistic glee. Fighting was the happiest he had seen her bar her time spent with Merrill or after she was permitted a visit with Bethany at the Circle.
Yet, still, Hawke persisted with Anders. The mage had only grown more rebellious and unstable since they had met. Fenris did not despise him, but Anders set his teeth on edge in a way Fenris had not known in some time. Yet, she had left him to deal with the wounded as healer and protector while she fought the Arishok.
Upon the kill, Fenris thought she might cut off the Qunari leader’s head and hoist it up as a trophy. If she was, she never got the chance as she was rushed upon. The word ‘Champion’ echoed about the halls of the Viscount’s Keep. Before Fenris’ very eyes, the city seemed to be turned upside down. In the chaos, he managed to stumble out of the building, attempting to follow Merrill and Varric as they both rushed after Hawke.
Bethany was outside, tailing Orsino under the watchful eye of Meredith-- Shit. Where was Anders?
Templars milled about outside, keeping watch over mages who were working on healing the wounded while Aveline’s guard began lining up the dead, human, dwarf, elf, and qunari alike. There was no mess of dirty blond hair among them. No matter what he thought, Anders did a service in Darktown. Without him, the Ferelden refugees would be worse off. Instead of following whatever parade was forming around Hawke, he ducked down a side street, attempting to search for Anders.
Smoke still filled the air, making Fenris cough as he attempted to plunge ahead. Loud wailing was still echoing in the streets, amid the cheers of victory. Loss had still struck everyone fiercely. While he searched for Anders, he also kept his eyes peeled for Isabela. Wherever she had left to go to, he had a sinking feeling that she was never coming back.
Neither deep black curls nor a dirty blond mop was what caught his eye. Instead, it was Aveline’s flash of bright ginger hair. And, safe from templars, Anders was next to her. Fenris found himself surprisingly sighing with relief. He had worried for nothing. Carefully, he approached them.
“This is your fault,” Anders snapped, teeth grit as he tried to control Justice.
Aveline snarled, “What? Saving you from templars?”
“No! The Qunari attack!” he replied, “Much as I appreciate you getting me out of there.”
“Isabela stole that tome,” muttered Aveline, crossing her arms, “That’s what started this.”
“Isabela stole that stupid book ages ago. Then you let that… that monster get away with raping a girl!” Blue crackled at the edges of Anders’ eyes, which he shut, quickly as he tried to slow his breathing. His self-control after a long day of casting and healing was reaching its limit.
Aveline rubbed her nose bridge in frustration, “Anders, honestly, I don’t know what you expect me to do--”
“Punish the guard?” offered Anders, “Or would that be too much effort because the victim was an elf? I didn’t realize we were in Tevinter.”
“That was uncalled for,” snarled Aveline, clearly close to losing her patience.
Quickly, nearly fade-stepping to get there, Fenris went forward, taking Anders by the shoulders. Justice flashed, but Anders merely looked alarmed at being touched. His eyes narrowed on Aveline, who instead just looked relieved that someone else had interrupted them. He nodded at her slowly.
“Hawke asked me to escort him back to Darktown,” he said, “Go to your guards.”
“Be safe,” she said before turning to leave.
Anders scoffed, pulling away from Fenris and trudging ahead, “I should be out there healing.”
“You can deal with the injured that make it to the clinic,” sighed Fenris.
He crossed his arms, trudging forward, “Did Hawke really ask you to come check on me? I figured she’d send someone else. Varric, maybe, or--”
“She’s too busy entertaining the masses,” admitted Fenris, “I wanted to make sure you did not get caught by the templars.”
“Me?” Anders scoffed, “Why do you care?”
Why do you care about the lives of elves? Fenris wanted to ask. Yet… He knew why. While the Spirit within Anders could ebb and flow between Justice and Vengeance, Fenris knew that the Anders had originally allowed a spirit in him. Anders had stories of Justice and their time with the Grey Wardens as separate people. Letting the guard go unpunished was unjust, no matter who the victim was, but as usual it was elves who saw the short end of the stick.
Despite every notion Fenris had of the other man, Anders continued to prove himself dedicated to the people, even if those people were usually mages. Everyone was welcome at his clinic, from refugees to the Seneschal himself. Many things Anders did annoyed Fenris, but his dedication and passion were to be admired. To see a spark of joy when healing, that was something Fenris could respect. Maybe he even wanted to, if he would just let himself.
Hawke expected his loyalty-- she had it, of course, but she still expected it. When that loyalty was questioned, she made sure you knew about it. When he had run off after killing Hadriana, she had made her position known. If Fenris wanted to do that again, he better damn well wait until they got back to Kirkwall so they weren’t romping across the Wounded Coast without help. Her anger had shamed him.
A few nights later, he had brought Anders dinner. The practice was not uncommon among the group, but it happened when Anders failed to show up at the Hanged Man. Usually, they played a round of Wicked Grace to see who took the meal. Fenris had been the first out, thus the man to take the meal. Anders had been finishing up with a patient-- a little elven girl with a scraped knee. The injury was hardly worth the time of a healer with Anders’ caliber, yet Fenris watched as he distracted her with jokes while healing her knee. Once he was done, he patted it, making her smile before he dug around for a bit, pulling out a sweet. Most of them were stale, but the refugee children hardly cared, always pleased that the healer had candy for them.
When he saw Fenris, Anders had asked him if he was okay. There was no yelling about Fenris’ comment about how magic spoiled everything--though Anders had made a snide remark when he had spoken it. No, concern lined the wrinkles of Anders’ face as he graciously took the meal, double and triple checking that Fenris didn’t need healing or something to help. Once that was over with, Anders huffed, told Fenris he was stubborn, thanked him for the meal, and reminded him to clean the up mansion before he caught something from the corpses.
“Hear this now,” he said, “I will always come for you. That is a promise.”
ACT III
Smoke had a horrible, overwhelming scent. After the Qunari attack, he didn’t have the stomach to even enjoy a good campfire anymore. But watching the rubble of the Chantry smolder before him sent a revulsion through his gut. Why did Anders always have to be such a fool? Why couldn’t he just wait for the conflict to run its inevitable course?
Hawke did not ask for their opinions. Sebastian was furious-- so was she. Merrill had her hands clasped at her heart as they watched Aingheal Hawke walk around Anders like a predatory animal. For prey, he looked remarkably calm, sad, even.
Run, you idiot. Petrify her and run for your life.
Anders didn’t move. He wanted to die. Fenris felt sick.
“I trusted you,” hissed Hawke, “I made you part of my family; I protected you. Then you LIE to me, have me help you do this.”
“The war is inevitable,” said Anders, “Justice and I have done what had to be done. Kill me if you will and be done with it.”
“You put my WIFE in danger! You put my SISTER in danger!” Hawke raised a fist, bashing it across the side of Anders’ head.
“Vhennan, no!” exclaimed Merril, “Don’t kill ‘im. He can help us protect the mages, please.”
“He doesn’t deserve to live!” bit back Sebastian.
Hawke growled, “Do not speak to her that way! Merrill, I can’t. He’s too dangerous. He’s… He’s not the Anders we knew. Not anymore.”
Fenris felt his fist clench at his side. These theatrics were ridiculous-- there was a city to save. And, to be frank, either they chose Anders to die as he pleased or they went with Merrill’s plan. Hawke had seemingly chosen the former. Tears streamed down Merrill’s cheeks as she looked away, her wife hoisting her greatsword high. Fenris felt his insides twist.
He remembered the Anders he thought he knew. Once upon a time, that man had been an abomination, just a foolish mage playing Maker. Then, things had shifted. As much as he wanted things to be simple, Anders never allowed anything to be so. With his manifesto and ranting, came the healing and the gentle touches. Even when he himself forgot to eat, he never let anyone else forget. He would risk hair and hide in battle to protect others.
One night, not long after Hawke had been dubbed the Champion, Anders had admitted to Fenris that he had not always been so selfless. Justice was what brought out the best in him-- that if Fenris hated him now, he would have loathed the Anders of the Circle or the Grey Wardens, all flirt and wit and self-serving. Somehow, Fenris doubted that was the whole story.
Each passing day over the last three years, he found he craved it more. Was Anders really so different? Or was he exaggerating in an effort to self-loathe everything about himself? One minute he was witty and charismatic the next he seemed to gain ten years from exhaustion. Yet, each day, that wit and charisma faded away. A demon-- not a traditional one, but some sort of sickness of the mind-- had taken hold of the healer. Had anyone tried to help him?
Varric, perhaps, refusing to give into such demands like taking a pillow that meant so much Anders. Yet, no one else knew what to do. None of them knew how to cope with this shell of their friend. But he was still there. After Danarius, Hawke had clapped him on the back, asked him if he was alright, and went on her way.
Anders had shown up that night, barging his way in, double-checking injuries he had already healed while Fenris pushed him away. It didn’t work, of course. The mage had always been too stubborn for that. No matter how easy it would be for Fenris to kill him, Anders had never feared him. He treated him like any other friend. Only a week ago, he had invited Anders to eat dinner together… privately.
And then Fenris, cowardly, had failed to show.
Showing up would not have changed this event. No, Anders was too far into this plan, he was sure. Yet, now, he could not find it in him to overthink. Firelight glinted on Hawke’s as it arched its way down. Far faster than he knew that he could run, Fenris found himself knelt at Anders’ side. His hands clutched the other man’s shoulders, before shoving him forward. Lyrium flickered to life.
Hawke’s sword passed through him. Phantom sensations touched him, but did not harm him. Anders looked at him from where he had fallen, gathering himself up as he stared at them all. His feet slid backward, his mouth attempting to make Fenris’ name. Behind him, Hawke seethed.
“Run!” he ordered, urging Anders, “Run! Hear this, I will always come for you! I will find you! Go!”
Anders nodded quickly, life suddenly seeming to spring forth in his eyes. Oh, how long had Fenris longed to see that glint again. He had not realized he had ached for it until he saw its gleam. The mage took off, rushing away and into the chaos of the street. Once he was out of sight, Fenris turned to face them. Sebastian had his bow cocked at his head while Hawke looked disgusted.
“You bastard,” she hissed, “What had gotten into you?”
“What has gotten into you?” he repeated, “Anders was your friend. More-so than he ever was mine.” And yet, his stupid, treacherous heart and all of its longing had found the sympathy to save him.
“You were right,” she sneered, “He was always an abomination. I was blind.”
“Your wife is a blood mage,” snapped Fenris, “Shall you put her to the sword next?” Merrill gasped, but he glanced at her, trying to show her that it was not something he wanted. Hawke looked appalled at such a suggestion, thank the Maker, and lowered her sword.
Hawke did not circle him like a prey animal as she did Anders. No, instead he raised her nose to him. Golden eyes, just a bit hazel and always piercing, cast their judgement down on him. In an instant, without thinking, she saw what he had done as throwing away her loyalty to save Anders. And Hawke always expected his loyalty.
“I loved you like a brother,” she said, shaking her head, “Get out. Get out of my sight. If I ever see you again, I’ll kill you both.” Merril sobbed, Varric quickly tending to her, looking unusually surly at Hawke. Then again, perhaps it wasn’t so unusual. Hawke was always funnier in his tales than she was in person. Perhaps Fenris had been blinded to something Varric had always seen.
Fenris did not say goodbye. Instead, he walked away with pride, head held high, a free man who would not be tethered to a woman who confused loyalty with ownership. Fenris owed her much, but she did not own him. And a free man was allowed to walk into whatever fate he damned well please.
Fenris chose Anders, and he knew he would keep choosing Anders every day after. All he had to do was find him.
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writtenvisionary · 3 years
Text
Not Her Idea
Read on Ao3
WC: 2.9k
Summary: She most definitely did not adopt a small black cat and name him Mini Noir. Nope. But she can't help but swoon over what an adorable sight the real superhero with his mini namesake is. Based on this Tumblr post by @akuma-eater
It wasn’t her idea. It most definitely was NOT her idea to adopt a black kitten and name it after Chat Noir. Nope. If you ask, her parents were the ones who insisted. Because it was not her who suggested it.
She would definitely regret it later if she did. But she didn’t.
Although as Marinette pets the small, soft creature, a smile forms on her face. He rubs up against her, craving attention. Of course she gives it to him; who is she to deny?
She was still debating if she should tell her partner or not. His ego is already so huge, and there are so many of his fans that have named a pet after him already. If he knew that his own partner named her cat after him?
She would never hear the end of it.
There was also the fact that Alya would freak about the name and start demanding answers, because what teenage girl in Paris wasn’t attracted to the, admittedly hot, superhero? Again, she would never hear the end of it.
But when the words slipped out of her mouth in class, her friends immediately wanted to see the new kitten. Which makes sense. She really should have expected it. So she said that they can all come over after school and meet the little guy.
Now she’s frantically running around her room, tidying up before they make their way into her space, while Mini Noir innocently sits on her chaise, staring at her with wide green eyes.
All posters of Adrien ripped down: check. Scattered trash in garbage bin: check. Litter box cleaned and kitten has food and water: check. Fabric put away: check.
“Tikki, hide,” she whispers to her kwami, who promptly phases into her purse on her desk.
She takes a deep breath.
“Alright, you can come up!” She calls.
Footsteps are then heard making their way up the steps, and suddenly she’s not alone in her room anymore.
Attention is immediately turned to the kitten on her chaise. She watches in awe as Alya coos over her, and Nino rests a hand on his girlfriend’s shoulders, keeping her grounded. He reaches over to pet Mini Noir with his other hand, who leans into his touch and starts to purr.
Marinette glances over at Adrien. Her knees buckle at the look of pure happiness in his eyes, and she can feel a her cheeks heating up. Their eyes meet and she smiles.
“Y-you w-wanna pet the smitten, I MEAN kitten?”
He sends her a grin and nods. 
She somehow finds the strength to look back at her other friends.
“Hey guys, can A-Adrien see him?”
Yeah, she hates the stutter just as much as Alya does.
They agree and happily back up so that the blonde model can pet the little creature. Adrien slowly takes a few steps forward and puts out his hand for the kitten to smell. After deciding that Adrien is apparently a safe human, he rubs against his hand.
“Aw,” he mumbles. “He’s so sweet.”
Her heart melts.
“Hey, Mari. What’s his name? You didn’t tell us at lunch.”
She barely hears the question. Her eyes are trained on her crush as he carefully picks up the kitten and sits down, letting Mini Noir stand up on his lap. He gently pets him, coaxing him to lay down.
“Marinette,” Alya says, catching her attention.
“Oh,” she looks to her, then gulps.
Should I tell her? She’s not gonna let me live this down.
…. Oh, whatever. He needs people to refer to him as something.
“Mini Noir, or just Minou.”
Marinette looks back to Adrien, not wanting to see her bff’s reaction, and bites her lip. 
His grin had softened, but his eyes are watering. He continues to pet her kitten, who had finally laid down, as he blinks to stop the tears from falling.
“Are you okay, Adrien?”
He looks up at her, and suddenly he can’t stop the salty liquid from rolling down his cheeks. A smile crosses his features.
“I’m perfectly okay. Just… wish I had a cat.”
Not that she has a say, because she sucks at lying herself, but she can tell that he’s not telling the truth. Something seems… off.
“I get it. I’ve wanted a pet for so long. I can’t imagine what it’s like being alone in that huge house with no one, not even a pet,” she says, and woah she just talked to him without stuttering.
Adrien nods, looking back down at his secret namesake, and scratching behind his ears. Even though it may compromise his identity, he has to come visit tonight as Chat Noir. He has a right to meet a cat named after him, right? He doesn’t want to leave him at all.
But he has no choice. His father needs him home by four o’clock to get ready for his interview at six. Not that he’s excited for it, but he doesn’t want to disappoint the man any more than he already has. He’s sick of being a failure.
With that depressing thought in mind, he lets out a sigh.
“I gotta get going, guys. Let me know if you ever wanna hang out again and I’ll see what I can do.”
The three of his friends nod, Marinette looking oddly worried, and Adrien takes Mini Noir in his hands. He stands, handing the kitten to his favorite everyday Ladybug, but not before leaving a kiss atop the cat’s little head.
After he leaves, the atmosphere turned awkward. 
Nino grunts.
“His dad is getting on my last nerve,” he grumbles. “You guys don’t even know half the shit he goes through. I wanna get him out of there, but I don’t know how.”
Marinette’s eyebrows furrow.
“What’s going on?”
“Yeah, Nino, you haven’t even told me anything. And I’m dating you. So?” Alya asks, hands on her hips.
The DJ sighs, taking his cap off and running a hand over his short hair.
“Gabe isolates him from his friends, doesn’t eat with him at dinner, and Adrien has to set an appointment to even see him. That’s neglect. Gabriel is not a good father, and something tells me there’s something he does behind closed doors that Adrien can’t tell me about.”
Alya and Marinette stare at him, now concerned.
“Well, what can we do?” Marinette asks.
Nino shakes his head.
“Nothing. I’ve tried to talk to Gabriel, and obviously I was banned from the mansion. Adrien doesn’t think there’s anything wrong, Nathalie keeps saying that it’s not her business, and the Gorilla doesn’t even talk.”
“True, and even if we’re able to convince Adrien that his father is a dickhead, we won’t be able to do anything because he’s rich and famous and will probably be able to overrule any charges we press,” Alya explains with an eye roll.
The entire subject makes Marinette’s heart pound, and she honestly just wants the focus to go back on her kitten.
So, she swallows and forces a smile.
“We’ll figure it out. You guys wanna play with him for a bit while I help my parents down in the bakery?”
Both friends agree with an excited nod, so she hands off Mini Noir to Alya and rushes down the stairs. The tension in that room was too much for her to handle. She needed to get away.
Marinette sits at her desk, hand-sewing her latest design with soft music sounding from her speaker. Her face twists in concentration as she tilts her head, readjusting the position of her hands to work at a better angle.
A knock at her top bedroom hatch startles her.
Gently setting down the piece she was working on, she stands and takes a few steps to the other side of her room. Then she glances up at the window on the hatch above her loft bed, and smiles at the sight.
She really should have guessed.
He comes by every other night. Originally, it was for some pastries for his kwami, but it soon became time for him to unwind after a busy day. She has come to quite enjoy his presence.
It’s why she named her kitty after him; he was so important to her, and so was Chat Noir.
“Coming,” she calls to him as she steps up the ladder.
When she reaches the hatch, her eyes lock with the black cat hero before pushing it open.
He jumps right through the opening, landing right on top of her bed. She shakes her head as she closes it, eyeing him through her peripheral. His forearm lay over his eyes, head on the pillow, breathing heavily.
“You good, kitty?”
He nods, pulling his arm away to look at her.
“My dad wanted me home for an interview earlier and then said he didn’t want me to go,” he frowns. “I had to leave my friends. I didn’t want to, and I didn’t even need to!”
“Aw,” she mumbles, lowering herself at the end of her bed.
“Well, I think I have something that will cheer you up!”
One of his eyebrows perks up, as well as the corner of his lips. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”
She holds up a finger, trying to stifle an excited smile, then makes her way down from the loft.
A soft mew is heard from below, catching Chat Noir’s attention. So he looks over her railing, and the pure glee he feels when a black kitten is spotted cannot be tamed. His grin hurts, eyes following Marinette’s movements as she struggles to catch him (or her, he didn’t know) from running around the room. When she finally secures the small creature in her hands, she huffs a sigh of relief. Chat bites his lip, watching in awe.
She’s so adorable. 
Oh, and the cat’s adorable too.
Marinette struggles as she walks up her ladder, out of breath, but ultimately looks up at Chat Noir with a winded smile.
“Meet,” she swallows, “Mini Noir, or Minou.”
“Aw, oh my gosh. You named him after me? Mari, really?”
She could tell that his question was full of innocence, despite how teasing the word’s connotations are.
“Of course,” she feels her cheeks heat up. “You mean a lot to me. I would name a million things after you, Chaton.”
Chat Noir tried to stop it, but tears started forming all over again. Just… knowing that he actually means something to someone… it’s overwhelming. Not to mention that he loves cats. This is like a double whammy.
He’s so happy. He wishes he knew how to thank her. For now, a simple smile and hug would have to do.
She lets herself be engulfed in his arms, replying to his “Thank you” with an “Always.” He makes sure to leave room for their furry friend, who had resolved to curling up in Marinette’s lap.
When they separate, Chat Noir immediately looks down at the kitten, petting him with a smile.
Mini Noir stares at his honorary father with wide, green eyes and a little heart-shaped nose that nearly makes Chat melt. He scratches behind the kitten’s ears, enjoying the purrs that erupt from him. He wishes he could restrain himself from purring, but that seemed frivolous because he doesn’t even know when he starts.
Marinette giggles beside him and he sighs, not taking his eyes off Mini Noir.
“Was I purring again?”
“Yup,” she says, popping the ‘p.’
Then fingers are running through his hair and everything around him comes to a stop. His eyes flutter closed, and he leans into her touch. His purr returns, unwillingly, as he accepts the pets from Marinette. An angry meow from her lap makes his hand start moving again, giving Mini Noir the same treatment that his favorite fashion designer was giving him.
He was in heaven; experiencing pure ecstasy, feeling a kind of love that he hasn’t felt in such a long time. And the kitten… he just feels so appreciated.
Understandably, he’s disappointed when she pulls away. He glares at her, frowning hard, but she only boop’s his nose and hands the kitten over to him.
“Sorry, Chat. Gotta get those treats from the bakery, and set up the video game. Have fun!”
He shakes his head, leaning back on the bed and letting the kitten crawl on top of him. His little paws knead into his leather suit, leaving his claws to dig into the leather, so he ends up having to tenderly pull his paws off of him. He rubs the pads, gently massaging them. Mini Noir lets him, surprisingly. In fact, he plops down onto his back and stretches, allowing his paws to web out.
Chat Noir giggles, “Hey, princess? Are you sure this one’s for me?”
She scoffs.
“No, Chaton. This is my kitty. You just get the pleasure of seeing him a lot.”
He feigns hurt, dramatically gasping.
“You mean that I’m not your kitty?”
Marinette groans, “You know what I meant. Besides, aren’t you Ladybug’s kitty?”
Chat shrugs, looking back at the cute ball of fluff on his stomach. He smiles.
“I don’t think so. She calls me ‘kitty’ but it’s just a nickname. We’re not together or anything.” His voice drops into something smaller as he takes ahold of his mini’s paws again. “I wish we were, but she doesn’t like me like that. I’m sure I annoy her.”
The designer wanted nothing more than for him to believe that he was not annoying but he had such a low self-esteem that it was hard to really convince him of anything. But she sighs and does her best anyway.
“Chat Noir, you are anything but annoying. If she doesn’t see how amazing you are, she’s missing out.” Her tone turns predatory. “And if she ever says you are annoying, or stupid, or anything you’ve said about yourself, I will NOT hesitate to send her a giant punch to the gut.”
Her empty threat causes a smile to break through his chagrined frown, and a chuckle to escape his larynx (yes he pays attention in science class).
“You always say the right thing, Princess. Thank you,” he admits.
Marinette was going to reply, but her mother called her name from downstairs. She sends her two kitties a nervous smile.
“Be right back.”
Then she exits the room, abandoning the symbols of bad luck on her bed. She just hopes they will behave until she gets back with a tray of yummy, cheesy pastries.
To her surprise, they do. It’s Chat, actually, who ends up falling asleep, while mini Chat Noir prances around her room. He was de-transformed, but luckily he had already turned away from the hatch, hiding his true identity from her. This made her sigh in relief.
A snore sounds through the room, and she shakes her head.
Poor kitty doesn’t get enough sleep.
She makes a point to grab a throw blanket from her chaise on her way up to him, then drapes it over him. Then she heads back down the ladder to catch the little kitten, before bringing him back up to the real superhero. Mini Noir immediately settles in next to him, curling into a little ball flush against his side. Marinette can’t help but mumble a tiny ‘awe’ at the sight.
“Psst, Chat. Can you hear me?”
Nothing. He’s out cold.
Plagg flies in front of her with crossed arms, grunting.
“What is the meaning of this, Pigtails?”
Marinette shrugs, “Meaning of what?”
Plagg rolls his eyes.
“Why is there another thing here? I thought I was the main event!”
“His name is Mr. Mini Noir, or Minou. You can call him Chat Noir Jr, for all I care, just whatever you want to call him, Plagg, but nothing disrespectful,” she looks at him with indignation. “It’s a small kitten. Please be gentle.”
Plagg scoffs, floating over to the cat. She wants to turn and see his interaction with the other cat, but then she’d risk seeing Chat’s civilian identity and she wasn’t ready for that yet.
“This is family, Pigtails. We’re the same breed—“
“No you’re—“
“—And I will always love my kittens. I just don’t always outwardly show it. My insults are laced with love, little lady.”
She tilts her head slightly in admission.
He floats back in front of her, that scowl returning on his magical features once more.
“Okay, now where is my cheese.”
It wasn’t a question, but a demand. She smiles and shakes her head.
“It’s on my desk. Be quick before Chat wakes up.”
She watches Plagg glance over her shoulder at the sleeping boy, before he nods and promptly takes flight. Then she feasts her eyes on the way he inhales a multitude of cheese triangles that have been sat on the desk in front of him.
Only one minute passes before he’s back at her side. His tiny arms are crossed over his chest.
“Thanks, Pigtails. Where’s Tikki?”
Marinette smirks, “If she didn’t come out, that means she doesn’t want to see you.”
He rolls his eyes, floating back to his chosen.
“Rude,” she can hear him mutter angrily.
Plagg zips back into the ring, and a flash of green light encases her room before fading away. She is left with two sleeping black cats and a heavy load of homework.
It most definitely was her idea to adopt her mini chat noir.
That’s certainly why she’s sneakily snapping a few photos of the pair, snickering as she does so.
What’s one kitten without another? Just lonely.
Something tells her that Chat is already lonely enough outside of the mask. She didn’t want him to feel that way anymore. Who is she to deny him of a friend?
She doesn’t regret it. In fact, she is very happy with this turn of events.
Things are now paws-itively purr-fect.
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sillyfeathers · 3 years
Text
Go Fish! (Bucky Barnes x Reader)
Go Fish! Characters: Bucky Barnes, reader, Steve Rogers Prompts: “I guess I’m going to have to punish you…” / “Just tickle me already!”
In which you let slip a secret you didn’t know you were keeping.
Warnings: fluff Words: 876
A/N: catching up on requests, this one is for an anon :)
“Go fish.”
You stuck your tongue out at Steve, adding yet another card to the growing cluster in your hands. Either he or Bucky had won every round so far, and you weren't thrilled at the prospect of giving them something to hold over your heads.
“Alright... YIN! Any 3's?” Bucky asked, the 6 cards in his hands practically an insult to your situation.
You glanced over them. "Go fish!" you declared proudly, grinning as Bucky narrowed his eyes at you.
As the round continued, Steve asked you for an 8, and as you shifted your cards around to find one, you saw a 3 of clubs, tucked amidst the array of cards you'd acquired.
For a second, you considered turning yourself in and giving the card to Bucky, but your competitive side took over quickly. There was no way you could win — surely you could claim this little victory.
“Buck, any 3's?” you asked when it was your turn. Of course, you knew what your answer would be, you still relished in the look on his face as he handed over three cards.
“I believe that's a set,” you said smugly, placing the cards down with glee. Your next turn fell through, but as the proud owner of one full set of cards, you didn't care.
The round proceeded, looping around back to you before Bucky held his hand up.
Steve sighed dramatically, rolling your eyes. “Problem, Buck?”
Bucky narrowed his eyes, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “Y/N, where did you get the 3 of clubs?”
“I picked it up,” you replied, nonchalant.
Bucky shook his head slowly. “No…you put the card you picked up on the end of your deck, and you pulled that one from the middle.”
Steve chuckled. “Buck, that is some overkill observation –”
“Maybe so,” he interrupted, grinning at you. “But the fact remains — Y/N cheated.” He shifted his focus towards you. “I guess I’m going to have to punish you.”
You pursed your lips, glancing between him and Steve. You’d been in similar situations before with Steve, Nat, Tony…basically every Avenger who’d decided they wanted to make you blush.
“What to do, what to do…” Bucky mused, stroking his stubble with his index finger and thumb. “So many options, so many ways to humiliate –”
“Jesus, Buck, just tickle me already!” you blurted out, not wanting to sit through the ‘planning’ phase you’d experienced a thousand times before. You could feel yourself starting to get nervous, so better get it over with, right?
Bucky, however, had frozen in his place, eyes wide. His confused expression matched yours, the two of you looking to Steve, who was chuckling.
“Y/N, he wasn’t going to tickle you, he didn’t know,” he explained quietly, knowing that all hell was about to break loose..
Your stomach dropped. “Oh, well, nevermind then.” You cleared your throat, avoiding Bucky’s gaze.
“Well, since you asked so nicely, I just might,” Bucky said, his giant grin evident in his tone.
Unable to contain yourself for any longer, the corners of your lips twitched upward, and you started to shuffle away. Bucky was on a similar mission, and before you could get away, he seized your ankles and dragged you towards him, straddling your waist. You let out a yell, your hands already flying out in front to defend yourself.
Bucky tutted. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I have to doll out the appropriate punishment for such crimes.” Five fingers pressed into your stomach in a claw, and you cringed, shaking your head madly. His other hand — the metal one — curled into your side, and you cracked, bursting into helpless giggles.
“Is she seriously this ticklish?” Bucky asked Steve, hands spidering across your stomach and swirling against your hips. 
“Unfortunately for her,” Steve replied, looking on at the two of you fondly. Your giggling had escalated into wheezy laughter, Bucky’s hands relentless in their tickling. His fingers had located a spot beneath your ribs that brought forth the most elegant of snorts and squeals, and you wished you weren’t endeared by the smile on his face.
“BUHUCK– ” you gasped, the first word you’d managed since he’d begun.
“You never call me that,” he remarked. “It’s always Buck-ee — I really must be breaking you down, huh?”
You couldn’t even muster up the strength to shake your head. Bucky somehow knew each and every one of your worst spots and just the right way to tickle them to send you into hysterics, and your energy was sapped.
“Alright, Buck, you don’t wanna kill her on your first go,” Steve chuckled, and Bucky obliged, backing off with a poke to your stomach. You rolled over, still clutching at your sides as the ticklish feelings faded.
“You’ll be thinking twice before pulling something like that again, I’m sure,” Bucky said proudly, earning him a glare from you.
“You’re a cruel, cruel, man,” you muttered, half-smiling. “Yet the facts still remain — I have the set of 3s.”
The look that passed across Bucky’s face would have had you thinking you were facing off with the Winter Soldier — had it not been for the glint in his eye.
Running seemed like a good idea.
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anonthenullifier · 3 years
Note
In a follow up to Billy coming out to Tommy, how would Tommy come out to Billy? Would he even say anything or would he just appear with a boyfriend one day and cackle as Billy’s brain recalibrated?
Thank you so much for the ask! In case anyone wants to read Billy coming out to Tommy here it is. Below this is Tommy coming out to Billy...and Wanda and Vision because I figured the whole family should find out. I hope this meets your expectations of how Tommy would do it!
———
It was supposed to be an escape room. One of the ones where intellect wins and the biggest challenge would have been dealing with a bored and grumpy Tommy. “He is never planning,” Billy twirls around, arms engulfed by pulsating electric blue, and slices a chainsaw wielding robot in half, “again.”
Teddy’s glorious smile tempers his annoyance...marginally. “We are trying to escape,” he crushes a tentacled, monstrous vacuum-like robot between his hands, “and it’s a room.”
If Teddy wasn’t so stunning in situations like these, Billy would seethe for longer, but the sheer elation on his boyfriend’s face as another onslaught falls under their combined might is enough to make it seem a less horrible idea. Until his annoyance at his brother’s idiocy surges back. “This would be Tommy’s idea of a chill evening.”
Expertly Teddy deflects. “Where are they?”
It’s not something Billy had thought about in the ten minutes of endless fighting, but now that Teddy points it out, both Tommy and the newest recruit, David, are not visible. “He’s um,” Billy reaches out mentally, quickly finding the frenzied mind of his brother, the pattern of his thoughts like watching a pot of boiling water right before it bubbles up and over the rim. With practiced ease he latches on, keeping his own mind detached enough to not be dragged into the whirlpool of chaos, “they’re on the other side of that tower.”
“Race you?”
Billy grins, hanging back a second to appreciate the view, and then his hands alight and he rises into the air, body leaning with the current and wrists rotating forwards and backwards as he clears all obstacles from his path. If he allows his eyes to stray down to watch Teddy’s path of destruction, no one’s the wiser, neither Sam nor Carol here to scold him.
Five feet before Teddy reaches the base of the tower, Billy opens a portal, diving headfirst into it and then pops out of a second portal past the makeshift finish line, just in time to paint on his best faux innocent grin. “What took you so long?”
The dry “Congrats,” is made more genuine by the loving kiss that follows.
Tommy’s frantic “David!” ruins their moment.
“Shit.” Billy follows his boyfriend’s eyes up to a little walkway on the tower where David stands, hands gripping a rickety railing and glasses reflecting the menacing lights of the encroaching robot battalion.
Blue energy crawls out from between Billy’s fingers, his body gearing up to fly up and help their teammate, until Tommy sprints over. “I got this,” and then becomes a blur, zigzagging up the ramps and stairs, bowling through the last of the mechanical foes until they all crash down from the tower.
“He’s such a show—“ Billy freezes, head tilting to the side as Tommy scoops up David bridal style and executes a perfect Maximoff rescue, their lips meeting in fevered presses, David’s arms wrapping around Tommy’s neck, and their attention focused solely on passionately celebrating. “Um…”
“I told you David had a small crush on me, right?”
Billy’s brain slogs through recent memories, vaguely recalling this information. “Um...yeah?”
“Guess he moved on.”
“Guess so…” The mind isn’t a computer. Billy knows this, has sat through dad’s lectures on the tired and not empirically backed metaphor, and yet right now he feels like a computer that’s missing a vital update, his thoughts desperately trying to recalibrate and refresh itself to process the awkwardly long make out session in front of him. And then they stop, Tommy placing David back on his feet, though their arms remain around each other, and that’s when his twin starts cackling.
“Look at your face!” If this is some cruel joke, Billy doesn’t appreciate it nor does he appreciate the fact that Teddy is chuckling along with Tommy’s riotous glee. “Look at it.” Now David is snickering as well, the mood apparently contagious to everyone but Billy, who’s inoculated to Tommy’s shit by now.
Tommy hoists David back into arms and runs them down until they’re standing in an awkward sort of square-oval formation. “Oh don’t look like that.”
“I’m not looking like anything.” Real convincing.
“It’s not a joke,” his brother hesitates and then clarifies, “okay, depends on how you define a joke, but the message is real.”
What message was he sending? That he’s learned mom and dad’s celebration tactic? That he likes to catch Billy off guard and embarrass him or that...that he and David are still holding hands and that Tommy’s usual confidence is starting to crack and a spur of fear that never, ever exists in his brother’s mind has cropped up the longer Billy stays silent. All at once Billy’s chagrin disappears, replaced by emphatic happiness, one that manifests with a chuckle at the ridiculousness of his brother.
“Finally connect the dots?”
“Yeah,” Billy pulls his brother into a hug, ignoring the grunt of disapproval at such shows of affection, “thanks for telling me.”
“Of course,” Tommy pulls back wearing the sunniest smile Billy’s ever seen on his face, “had to make sure you knew first.”
A brush of his brother’s mind reveals an evening out of stress and concern, both things Tommy didn’t need to have, but Billy knows firsthand how terrifying coming out can be. “I appreciate it.” Billy steps back, eagerly accepting Teddy’s arm around his shoulders, “You going this elaborate for mom and dad?”
The glance between Tommy and David not only answers his question perfectly, but helps him see the genuine connection they already share and the future trouble of dealing with a mutually devious couple. “I have a few ideas, if you’re willing to help.”
———
Everything is set. There’s a conspicuous rope ladder hanging out his window, the banner is strung up over the table with his cake and party hats, he’s got a box of party poppers under the comforter, and, most vital to it all, David is laying next to him.
“You nervous?”
Insanely. “Nope,” he’s a pretty gifted liar but the little quirk of David’s eyebrow lets him know he isn’t fooling anyone. “Fine, a bit.”
He has, for a long time, made fun of Billy and Teddy’s little reassuring kisses, but now that David tenderly brushes his lips to Tommy’s forehead, he’ll have to admit it’s a little calming. “Me too. This is going to be my first time meeting your parents outside of uniform.”
Oh shit, he hadn’t even thought about that or how awkward this all might be for David. Other than the crushing fear that their acceptance and love can only extend to one child (something he knows is not true but still can’t shake), Tommy has no qualms with the method of coming out they’ve gone with. He thinks back to all the talks (the many many many talks) dad has had with him on respect and consent. Things he has considered and put into practice but it feels way more important now. “If you aren’t comfortable with this…”
“I’m fine, just nervous,” another kiss, but this one on the mouth and exciting instead of soothing, “and really looking forward to the cake.”
It’s a three tiered cake, each layer a different color of the flag, all wrapped in white buttercream, and in the fanciest writing Billy could muster it says: I’m bisexual . They argued over whether to add an exclamation mark, but Tommy himself would like to insert the enthusiasm instead of the frosting doing it. “Me too.”
There is the tell-tale chime of vibranium phasing through a wall and the less easy to spot sound of wind going through his dad’s intangible body. Good thing Tommy has snuck around enough to recognize it. “Come here,” he pulls David closer, deciding if they’re going to have to incur suspicion, might as well have some fun with it. It’s successful, the chiming moving from outside to inside the master bedroom and then footfalls let them know his parents are outside the door. Tommy steals one more kiss, “You ready?”
Except David can’t let him win and sneaks one more. “Are you?”
“Yep.” He is. He has never been more ready in his life which is why it’s aggravating that there hasn’t been a knock and the door hasn’t clicked open. “Be nice if they moved faster.”
From outside there is a muffled conversation, one that sounds like it involves a lot of gesticulating and disagreement. Then he can hear Billy, his guardian angel, chime in, “You can’t let him get away with it. That’s not fair.” What a sly and loving asshole.
Dad sighs, and it’s a deep one, one that means he’s exhausted from his mission and just wants to relax but now there are shenanigans he has to deal with. That’s when the knock comes, followed by, “Thomas?”
David giggles and Tommy does his best to shush him, only that just encourages it further and now Tommy’s sniggering as quietly as he can. “Thomas?” A more forceful knock and more barely subdued laughter. “Thomas, I am opening the door.”
His fingers grip the party poppers as he waits for the light to switch on and then Tommy leaps up with a “Surprise!” The first party popper bursts to life, confetti flying all over his comforter. “I’m bi!” The second popper erupts with even more force.
It’s through the settling confetti that he sees the confusion on mom and dad’s faces and suddenly it all feels too much, too elaborate, too close to a joke. Even Billy’s double thumbs up from the hallway doesn’t allay the dread circling in amongst the swirling shreds of paper. He tracks every movement of his parents’ eyes as they take in the cake and the banner and the streamers and oh...yeah this is awkward, “Um and this,” Tommy helps David out of the bed, “is my boyfriend, David.”
Mom and dad look at each other, some unspoken thing passing between them and then dad walks over to the table, grabs two of the pink, lavender, and blue striped party hats, hands one to mom and then delicately slides the elastic band of his under his chin. “It’s nice to meet you David,” they shake hands and then dad, without asking permission of any kind, wraps Tommy in a tight hug. “I love you.”
This is usually when he squirms away, utilizing his super speed to avoid such displays of affection, but this time he allows it, reciprocating the hug and smiling as mom joins in to make a Tommy sandwich. “We love you so much.”
“Thanks.”
After about a minute it’s a bit much though, something his brother senses, exuberantly declaring, “Anyone want cake?” David, bless his heart, takes on the role of cake slicer and disher, passing out the plates and making sure Tommy gets the corner with the most frosting.
It’s all a bit surreal, a bit too wholesome for his tastes and yet it’s also perfect, mom’s hat askew while dad grimaces at the overly sweet frosting she offers him, Billy chatting happily with David over some punch, all under the handcrafted banner of Guess Who’s Bi?
Tommy smiles, digs his fork into the cake, and joins them, feeling more like himself than ever before.
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