#the real enemies to lovers here is me saying that this book has nothing that interests me and then

[unhelpfulfemme]

...because in this, as with everything he did, there were layers of intent, moments when expected patterns would suddenly dissolve into something else.

This line is about a swordfight, but I feel like this sums up this entire book series, and Laurent's role in it, quite well. There is an internal logic, patterns and symmetries, to everything that's happening, but the moment you think you've grasped them they shift into something different (and as someone really fascinated with dynamic systems I love it). It's like that with the plot, it's like that with the romance, it's like that with the characterization, it's even like that with the worldbuilding through the power of Damen's very biased narration.

And what I particularly like is that it doesn't only get patterns, but it also gets dynamics, because things must be done in the right order, in the right moment, with the right intensity, to have an effect, and interpersonal relationships shift and change as a response to this constant back and forth. And this principle is everywhere: the battles, the politics, the swordfights, the sex, the chivalric tournaments.

He thought of Laurent's delicate, needling talk that that froze into icy rebuff if Damen pushed at it, but if he didn't - if he matched himself to its subtle pulses and undercurrents - continued, sweetly deepening, until he could only wonder if he knew, if they both knew, what they were doing.

^ Like that, for example. Or the way some things have to happen as a precondition to Laurent feeling safe, at first: on a micro level, there must be some token show of dominance on Laurent's part, to which Damen should respond sweetly and unintrisively, before he lets himself go, and on a macro level, the show of dominance before he lets himself go is the entire first half of book 1. You must always do something, which will then change the thing that you're acting upon, put it in the right position for you to do what you wanted to do all along. I love this.

Finally, I'm not a person who's very partial to symbolism. It tends to ruin my sense of immersion when the weather is dreary because the character is sad and the curtains are blue because they symbolize the sadness of the scene, because it always makes me feel like the world is small and unreal and like the writer perceives the world in a deeply egocentric way (I hate antropomorphising; if you have to project yourself onto something to appreciate it, you're not appreciating it. real appreciation requires accomodation, not assimilation). But man the symbolism in this, and the way it intertwines the cultural and the personal, makes me go feral.

The intricate crisscrossing laces of Veretian clothing paralleling the tangled threads of Laurent's mind, both of which require skill and patience to unravel, both of which have both a protective and a stymying purpose, and how they contrast with Damen's straightforward nature, because he is a man who sees beauty in simplicity and seeks to achieve it. The intricate lacing of Veretian clothing also reflecting the intricate, overly complicated way they do everything, which is also reflected in their intricate, overly complicated architecture, and Damen's immediate reaction to all of it. The Akielon philosophy of appreciating things for what they are - striving for measured simplicity in order to appreciate the quality of the fabric, the stone, the body, and how it makes Damen receptive to how artless Laurent gets when he's vulnerable. The man who is an unbeaten champion of the okton, a sport where you have to have the strength and precision and self-control necessary to ace a spear throw while dodging other people's spears flying by you while riding a horse, being the one who knows the right move to make at the right time regarding the saw trap that is Laurent's personality. The man who enjoys having spears thrown at him for fun taking on Laurent's prickliness in a spirit of sportsmanlike challenge.

#captive prince #the real enemies to lovers here is me saying that this book has nothing that interests me and then #discovering that it captures the way I see the world and the dynamic way I see interpersonal relationships like nothing I've ever read befo #I have a lot more to say about the worldbuilding and the character work in particular but this is what I noticed at first #because it's so so important to me #also not to merrily mash my blorbos together without rhyme or reason #but I think Thrawn would so appreciate how the cultural logic of each nation is reflected #in their art and architecture

[bobfloydsbabe]

burning flames | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc

a gold rush fic

SUMMARY: A heated argument reaches a fever pitch for Bob and his TA.

WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), power imbalance, mutual jealousy, SMUT (fingering), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

GOLD RUSH MASTERLIST

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SPECIAL THANKS to @cherrycola27 for letting me rant about professor bob and for sending thots when i ask for them. you're a real one.

A/N: very loosely inspired by the song style by taylor swift for the wonderful @laracrofted's 1989TGM writing celebration. this was supposed to be a mob boss bob fic, but that made me cry, so i switched gears and now here we are. i'm sorry this is so late, ames. enjoy!

“That’s all we have time for today. You’re dismissed.” He closes his book and listens to the sound of laptop lids being shut, chairs scraping against the old wooden floor, and chatter amongst his students. It’s a sound he’ll never tire of, no matter how long he teaches.

One sound is distinctly different, though. The sound of her voice. Sweet and soft. Lifting his eyes, he sees her talking to one of his students. Mike something. He can’t quite remember, but she laughs and puts her hand on his arm, making Bob clench his jaw.

Another student, Alicia, comes to his desk to talk about the upcoming assignment and what she can do to improve her grade. Normally, he would tell her to make an appointment at his office, but then Imogen laughs again, making heady eyes at that Mike guy, and he decides he has all the time in the world to talk to Alicia.

He tries to pay attention to his student, to answer her questions, and even tries to smile, but he can feel Imogen looking at him out of the corner of her eye. Her dark gaze is intense and sets his skin on fire in a way he’s been trying to ignore for weeks.

“So,” he hears Mike say. “What are your plans this weekend?”

Bob freezes. He lets his eyes wander over to Imogen, who’s still smiling. Next to him, Alicia is still talking, but her voice is far away and barely audible as he focuses on his assistant.

“I’m revising my dissertation proposal,” she tells him. “They rejected the last one for being too broad, so I have to narrow it down.”

Bob’s on that committee and strongly disagreed, but other members outnumbered him and he was forced to dissent. Dr. Kazansky had given her the news, and Bob remembers the heartbroken look in her eyes when she came to his office afterward. He’d wanted to comfort her then.

“Too busy to have dinner with me?”

Bob straightens his back, eyes still trained on Imogen as he dismisses Alicia, telling her to make an appointment if she wishes to discuss things further.

She mutters a thank you and scurries away. Imogen opens her mouth to answer, but Bob interrupts, certain he doesn’t want to hear the answer she’ll likely provide to this Mike character.

“Miss Van Doren,” he says, barely recognizing the hardness in his own voice. “My office. Now.”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond, but gathers his books and leaves the lecture hall without a glance back to see if she’s following. It doesn’t take long for him to hear her marching footsteps behind him, so he leaves the door open for her.

She slams it shut, so it rattles on the hinges.

“What is your problem?”

She’s furious. Nostrils flared, heavy breathing, and a delicious flush paints her cheeks pink.

“My problem?” he asks, placing the books on his desk. “What’s your problem?”

She drops her bag to the floor and crosses her arms in front of her chest. The gold necklace with her initial catches in the light, drawing his eyes down.

“I don’t have a problem,” she insists, taking a step toward him. “But you constantly berating me is getting old.”

He says nothing. He can’t. Not when she’s looking at him like she wants to wring his neck. Not when all the blood in his body is racing south, and he’s trying not to look at her legs, but they are on full display in that tight little skirt she’s wearing. Again.

He swears she’s doing it on purpose to rile him up.

He hates that it’s working.

She takes a deep breath, pushing her shoulders back, and looks up into his eyes. He’s always found hers unsettling, like she sees the parts of him he’s been hiding for decades.

“I know you don’t want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she says, gesturing around his office, making her short skirt even shorter, revealing more of her supple thighs. “You’ve made that abundantly clear, but you could at least show me the courtesy of not undermining me every time I talk to students.”

He frowns. “I don’t undermine you.”

She scoffs, gaze leaving him as her frustration fills the room. “You interrupted my conversation with Michael not five minutes ago,” she argues as her eyes find his again. Dark brown meeting ocean blue.

He steps forward, eyes wandering over every inch of her exposed skin, making his head spin with barely contained desire. “It was an inappropriate conversation.”

“He asked about my dissertation.”

Bob shakes his head. “No, he asked you out.”

“So what?” she throws her hands out to the side, exasperation turning into full-blown anger now. “He’s been trying to ask me out for weeks, but you always manage to interrupt. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you do it on purpose.”

He freezes. His heart’s beating painfully in his chest and his face feels like it’s on fire. There may even be steam coming out of his ears.

He watches Imogen run her hands through her hair, pulling at the roots, and he truly wishes she wouldn’t. It’s conjuring up very vivid images in his head that he shouldn’t have of his teaching assistant.

She looks at him expectantly, thinking an answer is going to come, but it doesn’t. He doesn’t know how to respond to that in a way that’ll make sense to her. It barely even makes sense to himself.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” Bob says finally.

She scoffs. “Yeah, well, he treats me better than you do, and I know that’s a really low bar, but it’s better than—”

Bob crashes his lips against hers, swallowing the gasp she emits. For a moment nothing happens, and for a second he thinks he’s made a grave mistake, but then Imogen’s arms circle around his waist and she sighs against his mouth. 

He walks her backward until her back hits the wall behind his desk, and he presses her against it, trying to get closer.

He pulls away a few inches to look at her. Cheeks flushed, hair a little out of place, and pupils dilated. She’s never looked more delectable, and he knows she can feel his hard cock against her hip. He doesn’t care.

Taking a deep breath, her eyes search his face for something, but it’s unclear whether she finds it. “Why did you do that?”

Her voice is barely above a whisper. There’s no hint of regret, but the rational part of him knows this is a bad idea. He’s her superior, after all.

“You wouldn’t shut up.”

“So you kissed me?” she asks with an adorable wrinkle between her brows.

He frowns. Now sure he’s misjudged the situation, Bob leans back and squares his shoulders, letting his hands fall away from her neck.

“Oh no,” she tuts and grabs a handful of his sweater, pulling him back in. “Get back here.” She stands on her tiptoes and captures his mouth with her own, tongue dancing at the seam of his lips for entry.

He doesn’t have to be told twice. He leans his weight against her, pushing her against the wall, and groans into her mouth when she tugs on his hair.

His hands travel down her body. Grazing across the swell of her breasts, into the dip of her waist, the hips that have occupied his thoughts for weeks, and finally, her thighs. His lips never leave hers, and his tongue explores her mouth and the taste of mint that lingers from her toothpaste.

Imogen shudders as his fingertips tickle the back of her knees, whimpering at the touch.

His hands slide up the back of her bare thighs, feeling her soft skin under his palms. She moans into his mouth and it’s the most arousing sound he’s ever heard. He can’t help the roll of his hips, desperate for friction, for relief, for something warmer than his own hand.

His hands travel up under her skirt, feeling the plumpness of her ass in his hands make him push against her again and she’s meeting him with her own movement.

“Professor,” she moans, as he trails wet kisses along her throat, running his tongue over the skin afterward.

He hums, kneading her ass-cheeks, growing harder as he rocks against her. Even separated by layers of fabric, the friction is enough to drive him mad.

“Dr. Floyd,” she says, pulling his hair hard enough that his lips detach from her throat. Her pupils are wide and hungry, mirroring his own, and their heavy breaths mix in arousing unison. “I’m still mad at you.”

A smug smirk spreads across his face. “I know,” he says and removes one hand from her ass. He uses it to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t go out with him.”

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

The words hang in the air. Bob keeps one hand on the side of her neck while the other remains under her skirt, playing with the edge of her panties. He holds her gaze, waiting for her to make the next move. To tell him where she stands, what she wants.

He sees the moment she decides, the corner of her mouth turning upward just enough to be a smile.

“Show me.”

Yanking her panties to the side, his fingertips glide along her folds, feeling her already soaking for him. Her mouth forms a perfect o as she gasps, and he wonders what else that pretty and vicious mouth can do.

Her fingers curl into the hair at his nape, gasping when he finds her clit. “So pretty like this,” he whispers, kissing the underside of her jaw.

“Professor,” she whimpers. “Please.”

“Come on,” he says, leaning back to watch her. Her brown doe eyes have gone dark with hunger and desire, arousal clear from the bead of sweat on her temple, and his cock is so hard he’s about to go insane. Yet, he still leans in close, his lips featherlight against her ear and whispers “moan for me.”

He leans back just in time to catch the look in her eyes when he presses his thumb against her clit and she lets herself moan. Louder than he expected, so his hand flies over her mouth, keeping her quiet, but feeling her smile beneath his palm.

His thumb massages her clit while his index finger finds her entrance, warmth begging him to enter. Bob meets Imogen’s eyes, asking without saying the words because he doesn’t trust either of them to keep their voices down.

Her nod sends him to heaven.

She moans into his hand as his finger slides inside her. He’s hot all over, groaning into her neck at the sensation of her. “So fucking tight,” he mumbles against her skin, making her clench around him.

Tightening her arms around his shoulders, she whimpers against his palm, and her hips meet his motions as he pumps his finger inside her. Her juices spread across his hand, and before long, he adds a second finger.

His office fills with the sounds of heavy breathing, muffled moans from Imogen, and barely contained groans from himself. He can feel her getting close, her legs trembling, struggling to stay upright. Leaning his forehead against hers, he removes his hand from her mouth. “Quiet,” he mutters against her lips.

She nods as she kisses him, open-mouthed and desperate, and his thumb draws tight circles on her clit as he angles his fingers against that spot inside her. She’s there. He knows it. “Good girl,” he whispers. “Cum for me.”

She does. Gushes around his fingers, writhing in his arms. He guides her through her high, holding her against the wood-paneled wall behind her. Her head falls against his shoulder as she comes down, and a long whine escapes her throat as he withdraws his fingers.

Leaning back to give her a little space, he takes in her unkempt hair, swollen lips, and the breathtaking pink flush in her cheeks. Her eyes flick down to his hand, then turn to the very obvious bulge in his slacks.

“I–”

She takes his hand, the one with fingers covered in her cum, and brings it to her lips. Keeping her eyes locked on his, she closes her mouth around his digits, swirling her tongue around them, tasting herself. He’s entranced, can’t stop watching her when she hums as if it’s the most delicious meal she’s ever had.

She withdraws his fingers with a pop, letting his hand fall back at his side. They stay there, looking at each other, processing what just happened between them. Not only is she his teaching assistant, but he’s on her dissertation committee. He has power and influence, and while she’s not his student, he is her superior.

“I…” he tries again, but trails off.

She smirks, squaring her shoulders. “Close your mouth, Dr. Floyd,” she says and sidesteps him, adjusting her skirt. “You’re too smart to be a mouth breather.”

She crosses the office, gathering her bag from the floor where she dropped it, and he gets a peek at her panties as she bends over. White lace. His slacks have never felt tighter.

Unsure what to say or do, he stands there watching while Imogen tries to make her hair look presentable. “Alright,” she mumbles after a minute. “See you tomorrow.”

The door closes behind her, leaving Bob in his office, surrounded by books, paper, a chessboard, a laptop he’s forced to own, and the memory of his TA coming undone on his fingers.

There’s only one word to describe the situation he now finds himself in.

“Fuck.”

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TAGLIST: @roosterforme, @kmc1989, @bradshawsbaby, @cherrycola27, @wkndwlff, @yanna-banana, @bluezraven, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @hangmandruigandmav, @keyrani, @just-in-case-iloveyou, @solo-pitstop-vibes, @yuckosworld, @have-a-nice-day-k, @writingshae, @the-whitegirl-is-back, @dizzydisaster, @floydsmuse

#1989TGM #bob floyd #bob floyd smut #bob floyd x oc #robert bob floyd #robert floyd #robert floyd x oc #bob floyd fic #top gun maverick #tgm fic #lewis pullman #eccentric professor bob #professor bob #oc: imogen van doren #otp: bob x imogen #fic: gold rush #helenawrites #helena writes #mywriting #writtenbyme #madebyme #enjoy darlings #this is the first time i'm posting like actual smut in an actual fic #i'm nervous

[darnell-la]

Hiii there! may I please request a Bellamy Blake mean and dark dom smut with !female grounder reader? An enemies to lovers thing with a lot of tension or anger and fighting m so they just give in and have hot steamy smut?💖 ty!

world count: 5,9K

pairing: Dom!Bellamy Blake x Grounder!Reader

————————————————————————

Hatred to love

Bellamy Blake’s pov

"This place is so shitty," I said as Murphy and I stepped through the overgrown woods. We've been here for let's say, 6 months, and I've never felt more used in my life. Now that the 100 of us helped the rest of the people on the ark, we can work to reduce our time away. 

To top off us being enslaved, we must deal with these people we call grounders. They’re violent and dirty, and think they own the place. 

“Better watch what you say before y/n hears you,” Murphy joked, making me scoff. Y/n’s the leader of these grounders and she’s a real pain in the ass. She’s always arguing and demanding things. They also protect her and do whatever she tells them to do. 

“Or what? Is she gonna stab me? We have guns and I don’t think they have treatment for that,” I said as Murphy shook his head. “I don’t understand why you don’t like her. She’s cool,” Murphy said. 

I rolled my eyes and stopped, annoyed that people kept saying the same thing to me. I don’t get what they see in her. She’s violent, dirty, and has the worst attitude you could possibly think of. 

“She’s not cool, she’s just some girl that thinks she has a say in everything,” I said. “First of all, that girl is 20, and second, she does have the day of everything. At least around here she does, and we choose to follow them since we landed in their territory,” Murphy said. 

“And if you have a problem with that, you can barge into wherever she lives, and argue with her. Hell, fight if you need. Anything to shut you up about her at this point,” he said. 

“Whatever man,” I said then kept walking, trying not to stay here all day and argue about how much I despise y/n. It just pisses me off how many people tolerate her. 

“You’re not gonna stop me, so save your talking,” I said to Murphy before pushing past him and a few other friends. I’ve had enough of y/n and her demands. 

I walked through the overgrown forest, stumbling over sticks and rocks, thinking about if fighting y/n is the best idea. 

She’s the best warrior they say and she shows absolutely no mercy. Even if I were to beat her, her people would kill me for making her surrender. I’ll have to get her alone. 

As I thought of things to do, I made my way through the forest until I was finally at the grounds of the grounders. They know me, so they let me in easily which was a big mistake. 

“Y/n?” I asked the guards of this small village y/n’s always at. They nodded their heads then turned around to walk towards, where I guess, y/n is. 

“Y/n!” One said as we walked upon y/n reading a book that my people gave to her, to little kids. They seemed happy and like they were having fun. I think this is my first time ever seeing her smile. 

“What did you come here for?” She asked. She always seems like she has a tone with me. Only me. “Oh, nothing. Just wanted to walk and talk. Only for 10 minutes or so,” I lied. I have to get her away from the guards. 

“Now you know I can’t do that. They always follow me. Where ever I go,” y/n said as I sighed. “I know, but, maybe they’ll make an acceptance this one time. Please,” I begged as she tilted her head. 

Y/n got up and walked toward me and the guards. She said something in her language that I still haven’t learned yet, then walked passed me. “10 minutes,” she said. 

“So what did you actually bring me out here for?” Y/n asked as she finally stopped somewhere a bit far from the village. “I was thinking we could fight,” I said. 

“Fight?” She chuckled. “Pathetic,” she added. “What’s pathetic is that you need a whole army to fight for you,” I argued. “That’s just how we work,” she replied. 

“What do you wish to fight for?” She asked, making me smirk. “If I win, you stop this boss act and I get to show people that you’re not as strong as you make yourself to me,” I said. 

“And if I lose, you can keep your little act going and I’ll be very, very embarrassing,” I said as she rolled her eyes, holding back a laugh I wanted to slap away from her. 

“Bet,” she said, a new word that she got from our kind as she jumped off of the log she was standing on and attacked me. I was almost unprepared but moved out of the way fast enough and kicked her back. 

“Good reflexes. But not good enough,” she said as she turned and kicked my legs, causing me to fall to the ground. “Fuck,” I groaned then quickly rolled over as she was about to kick my face. 

“Fighting dirty, huh?” I asked as I got up. “Nah, just want to get this over with,” she said before running towards me. She’s always been an attacker which is hard to fight against since she always makes the first move. 

“Already tried?” She asked, looking down at me after giving me the worst blow to my stomach. I hate her but I won’t ever doubt again that she’s a good-ass fighter. “Nah,” I said, about to kick her legs to make her collapse but I heard a gunshot. 

I quickly looked around as I stayed on the floor, hoping to see anyone but I can’t. “Y/n, get down!” I yelled-whispered because she still standing like she was in shock. She can’t be in shock right now. 

“Y/n!” I yelled. She slowly looked down as her hands lifted up towards her stomach. “Did your people use their weapon on me?” She asked slowly as she pulled her hand away from her stomach showing blood. 

“Ah, shit!” I said as she dropped to the floor. “No, no, y/n, you have to get up! Y-You can’t be out here. Shit! Fuck, uh, fuck. Y/n, get up!” I said as I tried picking her up, but another shot was fired but don’t hit us thankfully. 

“Hood your fire dumb fucks! I made her fight me!” I yelled out so my people can stop this madness. They just fucked up our stay here. Her people will never forgive us for this. 

“Bellamy, am I dying?” She asked, sounding like she was about to pass out. “Shit! No, no, you’re not dying. Just- Just stay still and hold this down,” I said as I took my shirt off, and lifted her ripped-up shirt to press down on her wound so she won’t bleed out. 

“Guys, stop it! She needs medical assistance!” I yelled back as I saw her trying to break correctly and keep eye contact with me. She still seems fearless. How could I do this to her? What did I do?

“Don’t worry, she’ll get it,” an unfamiliar voice said. “But that won’t be needed for long,” they added. I looked around until my eyes landed on people in a has max suits and a dude without one. Everyone had a gun. 

“W-Who are you?” I asked as I kept trying to push down on her wound. “We’ll get to talking once we get what I need,” he said then snapped his fingers. That’s when the people started making their way towards us. Towards her. 

“What? No. No, back away! Back up!” I yelled but they didn’t listen. “No! No!” I yelled as two people pulled me away. “Don’t you fucking touch her!” I yelled, making the dude without a suit on, chuckling to himself. 

As one guy went to pick y/n up, she lifted her arm and stabbed the dude in his neck causing him to fall back and bleed out. 

“Get her now! We don’t have time for this!” The man said. That’s when a few people attacked her, taking her weapons and then dragging her away. They’re manhandling her while she’s screaming in pain. 

“No, no! Help! Help us!” I yelled, hoping one of her people followed us so they wouldn’t completely have no eyes on her but they actually trusted me. Fuck. I kept repeating my yells until something knocked me on the side of my head. 

“What is this shit!?” I yelled at the man as he threw y/n on her stomach, onto this medical chair and then strapped her down. They didn’t even patch up her wounds. She’s bleeding out and groaning in pain. 

“I can see you’re not too happy. I assumed because of how you guys fought, you didn’t like each other but I see otherwise now,” he said as one sergeant pulled out some big needle that I’ve never seen in my life. 

“What the- Hey! Hey, get away from her! What is that!?” I asked the man as he took a deep breath, about to tell me the most inhumane thing I’ve ever heard of. 

“That needle you see is what we use to subtract bone marrow from the grounders who’ve been able to breathe on earth for hundreds of years,” he said as he sat in front of me after a guard placed a chair down. 

“You see, my people can’t survive the outside but they can. People like you can too which is surprising,” he said. “We’ve been studying you guys and we finally got one of you which will help another few of my people,” he added. 

“What? You’re gonna- You’re gonna fucking- No, let me go! L-Let her go! I swear to god-“ I went to say but he cut me off. “What will you possibly do?” He asked then snapped his fingers. Seconds later, his guards took me away as I yelled and demanded them to let me go but they wouldn’t listen.

Maybe an hour went by since the guards threw me into this clean and well-kept-up room. I’ve been thinking of ways to kill this man and escape. We can’t stay here. 

As I was about to start my banging on the door that I’ve been doing every 10 minutes, the door swung open to two guards dragging y/n into the room by her arms. 

She looked dead. My heart skipped a beat until I noticed she was alive by her whimpers. They patched her up but her blood is still leaking through her bandage. 

“Here,” a third guest said as he walked through the doors and threw a medical bag at me. “Fix her up, would ya?” He said then walked out with the other two after they dropped y/n on the floor. 

“Shit, y/n?” I said as I grabbed the medical bag and sped over to her. “Mhm?” She asked as I began to work on her. First I cleaned her up while keeping a conversation with her so she won’t fall asleep. 

“I need you to keep talking to me, okay baby? Keep talking,” I said after watching her eyes get heavy. “Hurts,” she said right before slipping away and passing out. 

“Y/n? No, y/n, stay up!” I said as I fastened my process before she looses too much blood. I’d she dies, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I made her go out, far from her guards to fight her. 

I’ve always said that if I had the chance to kill her, I would but that’s a lie. Just a big fucking lie. I can’t do that to her. She’s one of the kindest, most responsible, and most thoughtful people I’ve met. I really fucked up…

“Guess I didn’t die,” I heard y/n say as she leaned up on the bed I laid her on. “Yeah, I guess,” I said as I quickly got up and walked to the side of the bed. “Hey, hey, chill out,” I said as I leaned her back to check her wound. 

“Why are you carrying for me? Didn’t you want to fight me? Maybe even kill me?” She asked after slapping my hand away from her. “Hey!” I slightly shouted as I grabbed her wrist. She tried tugging away but I tugged back to get her to stop. 

“Listen! You’re hurt and your people would probably kill me and think I shot you if they find your lifeless body bled out,” I said then pushed her wrist away and went back to slowly pull the big patch I placed on her. 

“It sent Straight through so that’s good. I didn’t know until I started patching you up. You’ll heal within a few months but it takes a good year to get back to your normal self,” I said. “A year!?” She yelled. 

“Chill, okay? I’ll take care of you and shit,” I said, making her laugh. “You? Take care of me? Yeah, it’s hard to feel comfortable around someone who got me in this situation!” She yelled at me. 

“I didn’t mean to get you shot! I just want to put you in your place and-“ I tried finishing. “Put me in my place? And what is that? Ruin what I and my people had going on for hundreds of years. We were doing good with and without you,” she said. 

“You need us,” I said as I leaned over her to intimidate her but she leaned up. I can tell that she was in pain but she kept a straight face because that’s who she is. She’s strong. That’s what I like about her…

“You don’t scare me, Mr. Blake, so don’t lean into my face and not do anything about-“She went to get aggressive but I cut her off by smashing my lips onto hers. She instantly stops talking. My eyes are shut but I can tell she’s looking at me with wide shocked eyes. 

I slowly lifted my hand up to place my hand on her cheek but she quickly gripped my wrist, stopping me. I kept my hand up, not giving up until she slowly let my wrist go, allowing me to place my hand on her face. 

Now she’s kissing me back and I can’t tell she’s probably never kissed anyone. She’s not bad or anything, but she’s flinching at new things I do like moving my tongue, she’s breathing heavily, and seems very needy. 

“You done being mad at me now?” I asked as she kept her lips on mine, kissing me in want. “Shut up and kiss me,” she said as she pulled my face into hers. I did. as told and pushed her down on the bed and hovered over her. 

Her small whines are the most beautiful thing I’ve heard. I love how needy, whiny, and sloppy she kisses me. How could I be so mean to someone like her? She’s perfect. 

Minutes into making out with her, I went to trace my hand down to her lower body but someone started punching in codes. I quickly got off of her as she quickly leaned up, snapping out of what we were doing. 

“Stay back,” I said as I got in front of the bed to cover her and defend her if they try grabbing and experimenting on her again until the door opened to Clarke. “Bell,” she said under her breath as she sped over to me and jumped into my arms. 

“I thought I lost you. We thought you ran away,” she said as I placed her down, not really comfortable with her wrapping her legs around me, right after I just got through making out with y/n.

“No, no, I was just out with y/n and then these people fucking-“ I went to say but she cut me off. “What were you doing with y/n alone? How did you even get her alone without her guards?” Clarke asked like she was upset. 

“That’s not the issue right now. The issue is, is that she got shot and they didn’t give her proper treatment,” I said as I walked over to y/n to show Clarke what I’m talking about. 

She walked over, seeming like she didn’t really care. “I tried my best but it’s not enough,” I said. “You touch her? Aren’t you like not allowed to? She barely had a shirt on,” Clarke said, focusing on the wrong things. 

“Well if I didn’t, she would have bled out, Clarke,” I said with a tone, pissed off that she’s so worried about how I’m taking care of y/n like me and her are dating. Clarke is just another girl to me. Nothing else. 

“Where’s the rest?” I asked Clarke so we could end this conversation that was going absolutely nowhere. “Making sure the guards don’t try attacking the people helping the people that are caged up,” she said. They caged people here? 

“They’ll explain to you. Let’s go,” she said, trying to pull me with her but I yanked my hand away. “We have to take y/n,” I said as I looked at her with a disappointed look. 

“She says she’s strong right? She can get up and get home herself,” Clarke said. “Nah, I think you can,” I said, causing Clarke’s eyes to widen. “You should go,” I said then began to help y/n get up. 

Clarke stormed out as I paid no mind to whatever she was fussing about. “You should have told me you had a partner,” y/n said. “She’s not,” I replied. “Doesn’t seem like it,” she said as she backed up from me. 

“I can walk myself,” she said then began walking. “Wait, y/n, it’s not what you think, okay? She’s into me. I’m not into her,” I explained. “But she still felt comfortable saying those things about me. You’re clearly showing her something,” she said as she limped out of the room. 

I stayed silent and still in the room, cussing myself out that I had something with Clarke. She just fucked up what I and y/n could have probably had. I should have known she’d be like this. 

Before I even pressed my lips onto hers, I thought about how all the women would feel about me and y/n being a thing. Clarke was the first to come to mind since she’s the more jealous type. The others have other people so they don’t need me.

SKIP SEVERAL MONTHS

3rd persons pov

It’s been months since y/n’s been shot and she’s doing pretty well. She still works out, trains, and talks to Bellamy but she never dares to speak about what happened between them in that room. 

She respected Clarke and Bellamy’s non-realistic relationship and Bellamy respect how angry she was at him. He understood how uncomfortable she could have felt in that situation once Clarke started acting a certain way toward her for no reason. 

Bellamy still tried to make small moves but it never really goes anywhere. They haven’t kissed each other since that day. The furthest it’s gone is touched around her clothing to ease her into him but she can’t forget how he made out with her and seconds later, Clarke came in like they’ve been dating for years. 

Today’s y/n’s birthday and Bellamy just found out that the grounders don’t celebrate birthdays since they use to lose track of times before the sky people came down. 

Bellamy is currently in y/n's room, decorating the place with old birthday decorations he found around the place. They had moved into the mountain men’s home after every one of them fled with suits to go someplace else, scared that the sky people and grounders would come after them for murder. 

“She’s back from hunting in a few minutes,” Murphy said as he walked into the room. “Good, and her guards won’t be sticking their noses around, right?” Bellamy asked. “Nope, so you’re good,” he said. 

“You really like her, huh? What happened?” He asked as he looked around the room, seeing how much work Bellamy put into it. bellamy was the one to even set up her furniture when they moved in a few months ago. 

“I don’t know. It’s like, right after she got shot, I noticed that I’d missed something about her a little too much,” Bellamy said as he sat down on y/n's bed and looked down at the ground. 

“I knew you didn’t hate her. It’s easy to tell,” Murphy said. “I read this book that was published back in 2023 and they said that people tend to get more annoyed about people that care about. That’s you to y/n,” Murphy said which is definitely true. 

“She’s here!” Monty and Jasper yelled through Murphy’s Walkie-Talkie. “Good luck and don’t be you please,” Murphy joked as he made his way out of the room. 

Bellamy chuckled as he got up and walked to the corner of her room so that y/n wouldn't see him when she first walks in. He wants to see her reaction. He loves watching her smile. 

“Why is my door open!?” Y/n yelled throughout the hallways. Dammit Murphy. “Hello?” Y/n asked before peaking around the corner to the surprise in her room. 

“Oh,” she said confused but slightly amazed. She’s never seen decorations like this before. “Who did this,” she said under he breathe as she took a step into her room with a smile on her face. Just what Bellamy wanted to see. He's never seen her smile this bright. 

“I knew you’d like it,” Bellamy said, making her jump a little. “Bellamy!” She shouted then covered her mouth. “You like it, right?” He asked as he slowly walked towards her. “Yes, I actually do,” she said. You could see her blushing. 

“Good, because it took me a couple of hours to find everything and put it up,” He smiled down at her. “Thank you,” she said as she began to scan the place and walk around. He can tell she really loves it. 

“You know, y/n. I’ve been thinking. A lot. I know we use to be enemies-“ Bellamy said but she cut me off. “You use to be mine. I never hated you but go on,” she joked. 

“Yes, yes, I know,” He chuckled. “But after that day in the room, I felt something. I’ve always felt it but it never came out until then. That’s the day I couldn’t force being angry at you or having some type of hatred towards you,” Bellamy said as she turned around and he walked towards her. 

“Y/n, I really like you and I’m sorry Clarke said those things about you but I don’t like her. I don’t see anything with her. But I do see something with you,” Bellamy said. He softly grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. 

“So, could we please start over? Start something with each other?” I asked. “Bellamy…” she said as she pulled her hands back. “I can’t. You and Clarke have known each other for a while. I think she’s best for you,” she said. 

“But I don’t want her. I don’t feel anything for,” Bellamy said as y/n shook her head with a chuckle. “She still talks about you. She’s obsessed and loves you,” y/n said. 

“She doesn’t love me. She just hates the fact that I love you and now her. I’ve never loved her. I barely ever liked her,” Bellamy said making y/n shake her head. 

“Yeah, that’s not what she keeps saying. Apparently, you guys have been secretly dating for years and still sneak around at night in your room or go off somewhere where no one will see you,” y/n said, making Bellamy’s blood boil. 

“And who the fuck has she been saying this shit to?” Bellamy asked. “Me, Monty, Jasper, and maybe a few other girls,” Y/n said. “Well, that shit isn’t true. She just wants you away from me, that’s all,” Bellamy said, trying to softly grab y/n hands again but she backed up towards her bed. 

“Look, we can’t work out, okay? It’s not going to happen,” she said. “Why? Why can’t it work?” Bellamy asked with a tone, getting tired of excuses and other people getting in the way between him and her. 

“Because Bellamy! I don’t want you! You’re too different from me,” she said. “What are you talking about? No one who’s together is exactly the same, y/n,” Bellamy said as he stepped towards her. 

“You’re not for me, Bellamy so just- Just leave, Bellamy,” y/n said but he didn’t listen. “Y/n, you’re perfect for me. I love how different you are,” Bellamy said as he went to grab her waist slowly but she slapped his hands away, shocking him. 

Y/n walked passed Bellamy to get out of his face since he won’t get out of hers but he quickly grabbed her from the back and pulled her away from the door. 

“Let me go!” Y/n yelled at Bellamy. Bellamy threw y/n on the bed and then quickly ran over to her door, shutting and locking the door so that she’ll listen and stay where he wants her at. With him. 

“Bellamy, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, annoyed that he can’t just leave her alone. Why does he fight so much for her? Why does someone like her so much? She’s not someone who’s likable like this. 

“I’m here to show you love, y/n. I fucking love you and you know that. That’s why you’re pushing me away. You think you’re gonna hurt me or some crazy shit but you’re not. What’s going to hurt me, is if you don’t accept me and love me back. I know you like my touch and presence,” Bellamy said as he made his way toward her. 

“No, no, no! No, Bellamy! I-l don’t love you! I don’t!” Y/n yelled at him as she rushed her hands through her hair and rubbed her face, stressed that this is happening. She can’t run like usual. He’s got her trapped. 

“Stop lying, y/n. It’s getting annoying and makes you look more pathetic,” Bellamy said, getting angry. “Pathetic!? You’re pathetic! You have to trap a woman in a room to force her to love you,” y/n said. 

“I don’t have to force shit, and you know that. You fucking know it, so stop lying!” Bellamy growled at her as he grabbed her wrist tightly. “I’m tired of you fucking lying and denying. Admit it. Admit it now!” He yelled in her face, shocking her. 

“No,” she firmly said, hating the dominance someone like him can show over her. She’s never felt any kind of dominance against her but from Bellamy. She can’t seem to function right with him talking to her like this. 

“Get on the bed,” he demanded after letting her hand go, giving her a chance to listen. “No,” she said, once again with a tone, trying to stand her ground until Bellamy picked her up and threw her on her bed. 

Bellamy kept his silence as y/n began to yell at him. He didn’t care. He wanted to shut her for once and make her submit. He wants to get rid of the lies and excuses. 

“Bellamy, what are you doing!?” Y/n finally asked after noticing Bellamy’s shirt off. She’s never seen Bellamy with his shirt off. She’s seen his built-under wet clothes hut never more. This is a lot for her. 

“You like the clothes I gave you in a box? They’re perfect for you,” Bellamy said, making y/n think. Murphy, Monty, and Jasper said that they gave y/n the box so she’d have the best up-kept clothes since she’s the leader of her people. Now she’s finding out Bellamy chose them all. 

That explains the revealing parts, her panties, and bra that seemed a bit too pretty for Monty, Jasper, and especially Murphy to pick out for her. She knew they’d never do that. 

“Y-You picked these out?” She asked, knowing the answer already. “Of course I did. Otherwise, I’d have a talk with Murphy about what he picked out for you,” Bellamy smirked at y/n as he slowly climbed onto the bed. 

“Now will you finally let me taste you? I bet you’re sweet as a fresh berry,” Bellamy said as he tugged on y/n shorts. She tried slapping at his hands but she’s not really fighting him like she should be. 

“Look at that… You look so cute in these tiny little panties,” Bellamy said after getting her shorts off. She tried covering herself up but it was not enough. Bellamy laughed at her attempt as he began to pull her panties down, so focused on what he’s been dying to see. 

“Fuck, you’re wetter than I could’ve imagined,” he said under his breath. She had shaved today in the shower for the first time ever. She grew up thinking shaving wasn’t even a thing until Bellamy’s sister gave her something for her birthday. 

“No one’s ever touched you here, haven’t they? Tell me I’m the first, baby, and I’ll treat so you right. Better than your people. I’ll worship you more than anyone else can, baby,” Bellamy said, becoming full of lust by the second. 

“Bellamy, I can’t,” y/n has snapped out of what felt like a dream, angering Bellamy. “I’m tired of this shit,” he said as he quickly parted y/n’s legs and dived in without warning, lapping his tongue around her floss and clit faster than she could blink. 

“Bellamy!” Y/n moaned loudly at the foreigner feeling. She’s never touched herself in any type of way down there so everything she’s feeling feels too great for her. She’s too sensitive. 

“P-Please, Bellamy! Oh my!” She cried out, feeling her nerves hit her and her clit swell up. Bellamy began to suck any and everything he could reach. She grew wet, only making Bellamy eat her out sloppier. 

“I-I-I can’t Bellamy! I can’t!” She kept crying and shaking as she felt her stomach tighten. She’s never felt this before. She thinks she’s about to pee on Bellamy’s face but Bellamy knows he’s about to take the sweetest thing he could possibly taste. 

“Cum in my mouth, baby,” Bellamy said, and right after, y/n released all over his mouth and chest as she shook and rolled her eyes back. The moan she let out felt like music to Bellamy’s ears. He’s never heard of anyone so beautiful before. 

Bellamy backed away and hovered over y/n watching her eyes shut and her body shiver from the new feeling she just received.  

Bellamy began to take his jeans off as y/n lay there a whining mess, not being able to shake off the orgasm she just had. 

“Work with me and I’ll go slow. Resist and I’ll put you in your place, princess,” Bellamy said as she slowly moved in between y/n’s legs, triggering her kind as she felt his bare skin. Her eyes widen in shock at his size. 

“B-Bellamy, what are you doing? What is this? What is that?” Y/n asked, feeling a bit scared even though she knows Bellamy would never hurt her in any kind of way. 

“It’s yours, princess, and the only right thing to do with it is to get to know it and soak it with your heavenly sent sweet juice,” Bellamy said as he brushed his tip against her entrance to watch her jump a little. 

“Let’s see who’ll win this fight,” Bellamy said right before pushing balls deep into her cunt as she screamed and scratched at his chest and abs, feeling the pain but pleasure. 

“N-No, this is too much!” She whined as she tried pushing away from Bellamy but he’s not waiting any longer. Bellamy gripped y/n’s neck, placed his hand next to her ok the bed to keep himself up, and began to thrust. 

“Bellamy, Bellamy! Fuck, please! Please, Bell,” y/n moaned loudly, surprised at her language and the nickname she called him. “What’s wrong baby? You can finally not take something?” He laughed in her face. 

“You’ve been stabbed, shot, thrown off of hills I heard and you can’t take a cock?” Bellamy teased as he sped his thrust. “You can’t take a simple fucking cock, but you can take all of this other shit!?” He shouted at her. 

“You’re so pathetic,” growled in her face as her eyes rolled back and her moans got trapped by his tighter grip around her neck. “And you’re about to cum? Didn’t know you were a little slut to degrading, with the title you hold,” Bellamy chuckled as she squeezed his cock. 

“I-I’m not,” she whined, which broke into a moan as she came around Bellamy’s thick cock. “Fuck, yes. Cum on my fucking cock and I might treat you better when I fuck your little body,” Bellamy grinned down at her. 

“Bellamy,” y/n moaned as she softly grabbed his face and fucked up onto him. Oh, you’re horny? You like it, huh?” Bellamy asked, very surprised that she’s feel comfy with this so fast. 

“Y-Yes, I like it,” she whined. Y/n tried pushing Bellamy to the side but he was too strong. He watched her struggle until he let her overpower him and climb onto him. 

“Oh, shit,” Bellamy said shocked as y/n grabbed his cock and lined herself up to her own entrance until she dropped down on him with a loud moan. “Fuuuucck!” Bellamy bucked his knees. 

“So sexy,” Bellamy growled as he pulled y/n’s shirt and bra off. “Ride me, baby,” Bellamy said. Y/n didn’t waste any time to start. The moans leaving her mouth were nonstop. Her rhythm is as well. 

“You ride so good baby. All of that adrenaline in this sexy little body, coming to life,” Bellamy wrapped his large hands around her waist to help her. He gave her ass some smacks here and there, only making her sex drive higher. 

“Never knew your tits were so beautiful,” Bellamy grabbed one for a few seconds then began to pinch her nipple to give y/n a better feeling. “Bell,” she moaned as she leaned down in his face. 

“Right there,” he said, feeling his orgasm right around the corner. She stuffed his mouth with y/n’s free nipple and began sucking, only having her cum for the 3rd time with a wilder shake. 

She still tried to ride him but soon stopped as Bellamy held her down with one of his hands on her waist. Bellamy groaned loudly as he released a big load into y/n. He’s never shaken before. But this time it felt too good to hold still. 

Both pulled each other closer together as they rode out their orgasm together.

After cleaning each other up and talking about what the two should do further, they decided to officially be something. 

Y/n had to explain to Bellamy that if she were to date someone, within a month, they’ll have to do a traditional marriage because of her title of the leader. 

Bellamy couldn’t have had better news said to him. It was one thing for him to be her boyfriend but officially making her his is something he thought he’d have to wait years for. No, he doesn’t. 

Y/n and Bellamy lived life to be the best couple anyone could have imagined. They’ve grown both of their people closer and helped generations of people understand that no one is truly your enemy unless you make them out to be. 

#the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #the 100 smut #the 100 fandom #the 100 fic #bellamy blake #bellamy blake smut #bellamy x reader #bellamy imagine #x reader #pure smut #smut #imagine #one shot #fem reader #18+ fic #18+ content #18+ only #18+ #18+ minors dni #18+ post #wattpad

[erule]

Nothing you can take | c.s.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x fem!reader

Summary: you and Sejanus make a bet involving you and Coriolanus, that you’ll have to become a couple in order to get some money from him, but everything changes when the two of you fall in love for each other for real.  

Warnings: fake dating AU, (kinda) enemies to lovers, bet to fall in love trope (if I can call it like that), sunshine x grumpy/black cat x golden retriever trope, light violence and mention of blood, romance, comedy (I think), (probably) slow burn, fluff, angst

Word count: every chapter of the series will have a different amount of words 

A/N: hi! Here we go with my first Coriolanus story!! I don’t know if Coriolanus is OOC here, because I watched the movie like one month ago and I still have to read the book, but I did my best to make him similar to the character I saw. Anyway this is a fanfiction, so please don’t be mad at me if he’ll be, I’ll probably need him to be for the storyline. I apologize to the people in the tags, because I’m really late with the upload, but I’ve been really busy in the past few weeks. Anyway, I hope you like it. Enjoy! X 

Tag list: @meeksity, @mxacegrey, @astess, @jasmineee05. 

Masterlist

Prologue – Don’t fall in love with me 

“Coriolanus Snow? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. What’s the matter, Y/N? You think you can’t make him fall in love with you?” Sejanus asks with a grin. 

“Oh no, I was just thinking about the amount of money you’re gonna give me when I’ll win”.

“Don’t, he’s not easy”.

“A challenge, uh? Even better!” You exclaim. “Now excuse me, but I have to go. Before your last drink, watch me sing and put under my spell mister Coriolanus Snow”.

“Careful, Y/N. You don’t wan’t to fall in love, right? People say he’s got a very cute pair of blue eyes”.

“I prefer the color green as my money, Sejanus. Prepare to lose”.

“I think you don’t know what’s coming for you, Y/N”.

You run to the stage, your place in the world, where you can finally give free scope to your passion: singing. Singing has always made you feel free, but tonight, perhaps due to the tension of the challenge, you feel a constriction in your chest. You and a little tipsy Sejanus have agreed on a bet against Coriolanus, but you have a better idea to win: you will tell him everything immediately, in order to pretend to be together for a while, so Sejanus will pay you and you will split the money with Coriolanus. No one will be fooled in the end, right? And then everyone knows that he needs that money too, so he certainly won't suffer from it. While you taste the victory on the tip of your tongue, the words escape your mouth. You apologize to the audience and your gaze falls right on Coriolanus, who isn't paying you the slightest attention, while he's drinking a beer on the sidelines, his Peacekeeper uniform making his eyes as blue as the tide stand out. Sure, Sejanus was right, but that doesn't change anything: a pair of light eyes isn't enough to make you fall in love.

Coriolanus Snow goes to the Academy, he dresses well, but that doesn't mean he's rich, far from it. You, on the other hand, were kicked out of the Academy because you didn't like their behavior, which is why Sejanus is your best friend. You always had the feeling that Coriolanus liked to follow the rules, but in reality he probably preferred to have control, power or money more than a conscience. That's why he's never been kicked out and you've never particularly bonded. It's not that you're greedy, no, it's just that you need money for your family and if a stupid bet can get it easily, then you will do anything to earn it, since the pub doesn't pay you enough for your fantastic shows. And anyway, Coriolanus is certainly an attractive guy, which isn't a bad thing.

“This song is dedicated to all the handsome blue-eyed boys here,” you announce, then grin, while some of your fellow soldiers make fun of Coriolanus and he finally notices your presence. “This song is called Nothing you can take from me and I dedicate it to my old school friend, Coriolanus Snow. Come say hello to me later, Coryo!” You exclaim with a wink and notice his gaze shift to you. For a second, just one, you feel a shiver run down your spine. You would never have believed that playing with fire could make you feel so cold.

Your song makes everyone present dance, everyone except him obviously, who continues to stare at you coldly, without smiling or saying a word, like a marble statue and this almost scares you. It also happened at the Academy, but there you didn't pay attention to it, also because there was no need to win his attention, but here there is a lot of money at stake and you need it desperately.

You descend onto the stage with a feline leap, you leave your guitar aside, while a roar of applause and compliments accompanies you behind the scenes, hoping that Coriolanus will follow you. The door closes behind you, but when you turn around, no one is there. Well, no big deal, it means you'll go look for it later or tomorrow at the latest, there's no rush anyway. But you feel observed and this sensation worries you a lot: it's as if you have someone behind your back.

"Well?"

You turn around, surprised that he's there. Up close he's taller than you remember and you can see his blonde hair well, even though it's shaved. His arms are crossed as he looks you up and down, but without eyeballing you, just a look of pure curiosity painted on his face. So why do you feel like a hunted animal?

“Coryo”.

"Do not call me that. You asked me to come here, right? You asked for my attention in front of everyone. I'm here now. What, the cat got your tongue?” He asks you, a crooked smile somewhere between amused and mischievous that gives a sinister light to his face. He has enough charm to seem like the Devil.

“Don't get any illusions, it's just a game”.

“I don't like playing and you don't like winning, as far as I know.”

“Those games are abominable and I think you know it too, since you're here, right?” You ask him. His smile fades and inside you rejoice, because you know you've hit the mark.

“Speak quickly, Y/N, the rooster crows early in the morning.”

“I have a proposition for you,” you tell him, getting dangerously close to him. He doesn't take a step back, but you see him on guard, almost as if he expects to be stabbed at any moment. “I bet Sejanus that I would make you fall in love with me,” you reveal to him and he smiles wickedly. “I only did it because he promised me money in return and my family needs it. I'm telling you this because I think we could pretend to be together for a while so he'll think we're really in love. In the end, I will split the money with you, since you need it as much as I do,” you explain to him.

For a moment, he observes you, perhaps because he is trying to understand whether you are sincere or not, then he nods, his face serious.

“You know, maybe I was wrong about you: you like winning as much as I do.”

“I wouldn't play if it wasn't for a serious reason. We both know that Sejanus pays and well."

“But he's your friend, right? I wonder why he is doing all this."

“Maybe he's just bored.”

“Perhaps,” Coriolanus repeats, thoughtfully. “Anyway, Tigris must never know. I only ask for this in return,” he says and you offer him your hand.

"Deal".

“And try not to fall in love with me, Y/N. Unlike many others, I don't like playing. You wouldn't survive."

“There's no danger, Coriolanus,” you say, shaking his hand.

Now you feel less sure: why do you feel like you've just sealed a pact with the Devil?

#erule's masterlist #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus fanfiction #coryo x reader #coriolanus snow fanfiction #coriolanus snow head canon #coriolanus snow x you #coriolanus snow blurb #coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow one shot #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus snow fake dating #coriolanus snow x fem!reader

[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 14 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, there is mature content in this chapter)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: things might get emotional in this one, jungkook's photo exposition, oc's mom call once, laura is there but we don't care about that anymore, do we?, curse words, explicit content: mentions of pain kink and choking kink, dom!jk, brat!reader, hair pulling, oral sex (male and female receiving), mouth fucking, fingering, edging, unprotected sex (don't be stupid)

☆word count: 13k

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: It's the last chapter and I am so so so emotional about it. The Forgotten Spaces was a journey, and I can't believe it's coming to an end. To think I started writing this in January... it's been forever. Thank you for reading me, for sending me all these asks and interacting with me so much over this fic. It means a lot! I hope you'll enjoy this last chapter just as much as you've enjoyed the others <3

☆a/n pt 2:Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Saturday, December 1st

                You’ve been feeling Jungkook’s eyes darting to you almost every minute now, like he’s synchronized with the minute hand of a clock. You’re studying in your apartment, finals inching closer with every passing day. Yesterday evening, you went to buy a real Christmas tree, and the aroma of the branches has been playing with your nose since you sat down at the coffee table to study. Jungkook is sitting at the kitchen counter, and he’s long stopped looking at his laptop in front of him. The screen went black, but he doesn’t seem to care.

You catch his gaze when his eyes dart to you once more, and you cock an eyebrow in question. He chuckles, and his eyes slide to his dark screen.

“What’s up with you?” you ask.

He shrugs, and taps on the touchpad. His screen comes back to life, and he types in his password. “Nothing.”

You squint your eyes, glancing at the book you’ve been highlighting from. You reckon you could use a break, so you put the highlighter down, getting up from your spot to walk to where Jungkook is sitting.

“Doesn’t seem like it’s nothing,” you whisper, and you wrap your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder. He’s studying for his anatomy final, and you read along with him as you wait for him to reply.

He shrugs, and his tattooed hand shoots up to hold onto your wrist. He traces figures with his thumb on your skin, and turns his head to look at you.

“What do you want for Christmas?” he asks.

His question takes you by surprise. And you don’t know what you want, you’ve never had a boyfriend to get gifts from and give presents to.

A boyfriend… You haven’t used the label yet. At least not out loud. But you think both of you know without needing to say it.

“Mmh,” you hum. “I don’t know. I didn’t think we were doing presents.”

You can hear the frown in his voice when he speaks. “I want to treat you.”

You laugh, pressing a peck to the side of his neck. “Can I choose an activity instead of a gift? I like spending time with you.”

“You want me to take you out on a date?”

It’s not something you’ve been doing a lot. The honeymoon phase led to you spending more time alone, at your place. Never being able to get enough of the other, passion and desire leading the dance between you two. But you reckon you’d like to go on a date with him, to go to museums and laugh at the art together. To grab dinner with him in a fancy restaurant, and pretend you know anything about wine.

Well, you do, a little. But you’ve never seen Jungkook drinking wine before, which gives you an idea after all.

“What about a wine degustation? I’ve heard there’s a nice little winery just outside of the city.”

“I don’t drive, and I assume you’d want to drink, no?” he points out.

You press another kiss to his neck, and watch the goosebump forming on his skin. “We can go by train.”

He shifts a little, turning to fully look at you. “Alright then. I’ll take you to a nice winery, and I’ll get you some nice wine. That sounds like a good present for a good girl.”

“Kook,” you whine, and you pull away to punch him playfully on the shoulder. “You’re annoying.”

“You love me.”

You glare at him, as he just offers you that lopsided grin that makes you all giddy inside.

“Do I?”

He grabs your face, kisses your forehead and pulls away. “Yes.”

You hum, shrugging. “Maybe.”

He pouts, and you brush it away with your thumb. Your hand lingers on his cheek, and his face falls serious. You lean closer to kiss him softly and he melts under you. He pulls you so you’re in front of him instead of behind, as his lips work against yours.

You’ll never get tired of kissing him.

“What do you want for Christmas?” you ask once you’ve finally pulled away, and his forehead is resting against yours.

“I won’t be as cheesy as you,” he teasingly answers. “There’s this game I’ve wanted for a while? Maybe you could get me that. It’s multiplayer, we could try to play together?”

“Isn’t Tae your gaming buddy?” You’re teasing him, because in truth you’d love to game with him. You’ve liked watching him play so far, and you reckon playing with him could also be fun.

“You could be one too!” he insists. “We could get Jo to play with us, I’m sure she’d love it.”

You laugh, softly, before pecking his lips once more. “Sounds good. I’ll get the game for you.”

He pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. His thighs are on each side of you, and you can’t resist but run your hands up and down, feeling his muscles.

“You’re the best.”

When he kisses you again, it feels different. More intense, languid, and you immediately know where it’s going to lead. You reckon you’ve wanted a break, and indulging in Jungkook seems like a good way to do it. So you let him press you against him, while you keep dragging your hands on his thighs.

He pulls away, and you move to his jaw, and then to his neck, leaving a trail of hot wet kisses behind. He breathes in sharply, tilting his head to give you better access.

“Should we go to your bedroom?” he breathlessly asks, and you nod while you suck a mark on his skin. He hisses, and his gaze is dark when you step away from him to head towards your bedroom.

He follows you, hand finding yours so you can pull him behind you. The moment you’re in your bedroom he loses all restraints, grabbing your face to crash his lips against yours. You think you can taste blood, but it’s hard to form coherent thoughts when he kisses you like that, like he’s been starved for so long. Like he needs you to replace the oxygen in his lungs and the blood in his veins.

It’s mind-numbing, and you hold onto his shirt, clutching it in your fists. You almost want to tear the fabric off his body, but you like his shirt – he looks good in it. You don’t want to ruin it. But the way he’s kissing you right now… you’re pretty sure he wants to ruin you. And you want to let him do it, want him to use you.

He’s good at it. Sex with him just keeps getting better and better, as you get to know each other’s body more every day. You know how he likes pain – whether it’s your nails digging in his back, your teeth in his shoulder, or your hand clutching his balls while you suck his dick. He knows you like it as well, especially when he chokes you or slaps your ass. It works well together, and you feel like he was made for you, through every aspect of your relationship.

Jungkook is perfect for you, and you’re going to show him right now.

You pull away from the kiss, immediately dropping to your knees. The impact on the hardwood floor hurts, but you’re already busy pulling his joggers down his legs. Jungkook’s tongue is poking at his cheek, the only indication that he wanted to be the one pleasing you, but he doesn’t resist. He brushes your hair over your shoulder, before tangling it into his firm grip.

He’s soft. The bulge in his boxers is already big though, even if you know it grows a lot whenever he gets hard. He watches you carefully as you pepper small kisses on him through his boxers, hands caressing his thighs. You follow the line of his scar on his left line, massaging it gently as you tease his dick with your teeth, looking up at him innocently.

“Take them off,” he commands, and you tilt your head to the side.

“Why should I?”

A storm passes in his eyes, and he pulls on your hair, once. It hurts, but you hold onto the smirk on your lips, because you like being a brat with him. It makes the sex ten times better.

“That’s how you want it to be, uh?”

You bite your lips as one of your hands moves to the bulge. You palm him, and he sits heavy in your hand. He’s growing semihard already, and when you press a kiss to the tip, you’re pretty sure you’ve tasted precum. Just to make sure, you lap at him, and a satisfied smirk grows on your lips when Jungkook hisses.

“Don’t tease,” he warns, pulling on your hair once more. “I want to see your pretty lips wrapped around my cock, mmh?”

“Do you?”

He clenches his jaw, tilting his head to the side. “And you want me to bring you out to a winery. Going to have to punish you first.”

“We both know you like it,” you tease.

His silence is answer enough, and you decide to finally give in to him. You hook your thumbs in his boxers, pulling them down in one swift motion. He steps out of them and kicks them somewhere in your room, while you look at his dick sitting prettily in front of your face.

He’s still just semihard. You’ll be able to deep throat him, and he sees it in your gaze as you grab the base of his dick.

“Be nice,” he warns. “Ease into it, baby.”

“Anything for you, Kook,” you purr, and then you dive in. Heading for one of his balls, sucking it in your mouth and twirling your tongue around it as you start jerking him off lazily, with not nearly enough pressure for what he likes.

He lets you do it only because you’re sucking on his ball, and when your teeth graze the sensitive organ, he pulls your head back so hard you actually wince.

“Sorry,” he immediately apologizes, releasing your hair. “Are you okay?”

You lick at his slit, tasting the precum. “I deserved it, uh? Don’t you want to punish me?”

“I…” he trails off when you suck hard on the tip once, hollowing your cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You pull away. “You’re good, Kook, you know I like it rough. I’ll tell you to stop if it’s too much.”

He doesn’t need more to grab a handful of your hair again, pushing your head towards his dick. “Then be a good girl and suck my dick, baby.”

You smirk, before obeying. He’s already gotten a little harder, so you take most of what you can in your mouth, jerking off the part that doesn’t fit. You tease the underside of his dick with your tongue, before swallowing around him. He grunts, throwing his head back, and you watch his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallows.

You keep at it for a while, feeling his dick getting harder and harder with every swipe of your tongue, every hollowing out of your cheeks. He’s grunting, breathing heavily, and it’s a melody to your ears. To know you’re the one pulling that out of him, the only one at that, makes you feel important.

“You want to take me all the way in?” he asks, voice dark and husky as his arousal starts to take over his mind. “I could fuck your mouth.”

That makes you pull away. “You could eat my pussy at the same time. Let’s see who’s going to come first.”

He smirks down at you. “We both know that’d be you. I already know you’re dripping for me.”

You are. You can’t lie. So you squeeze your thighs together, moaning softly before stuffing Jungkook’s cock in your mouth once again. You loosen up your throat, taking all of him in this time, and when he hits the back of your throat, you hold in the gag reflex.

His other hand finds your head too, and he holds you there, circling his hips slowly.

“Your mouth feels so fucking good,” he praises. “I’ll never get tired of it.”

And he doesn’t have to. You love sucking him dry, love swallowing his hot seed whenever he decides to come down your throat. You love pleasuring him, love everything when it comes to him.

Your eyes are tearing a little when Jungkook’s hips move back, but he still holds your head into place. When just his tip is still in your mouth, he says, “Can I fuck your mouth a little before we move to the bed?”

You nod, and he pushes back in, slowly. When he hits the back of your throat, you moan around him, and the grunt he lets out is heavenly.

And then he really starts fucking your mouth. Thrusting in and out, as your drool rolls on your chin. You just keep on moaning around him, trying to keep eye contact even though your eyes are tearing up more and more. Soon, his grunts morph into moans, and you almost think he’s going to come down your throat.

But he suddenly pulls away, his breathing ragged. “We got to stop here, I really want to fuck you.”

You pout. “I don’t mind you coming in my mouth.”

“After I’ve at least got to fuck you, babe. Then I’ll come down your throat and you’ll swallow everything for me.”

Mischief lights up your gaze as you nod, getting up. “Sounds like a plan to me.”

He’s back to kissing you in no time, his tongue assaulting your mouth. You suck on it as his hands grab at the meat of your ass, massaging it and forcing you to step impossibly close to him. His cock rests against your stomach, and you just want it to be buried inside of you already. So you force yourself to pull away from the kiss just long enough to say, “Bed?”

Jungkook nods, and then he picks you up swiftly. You giggle a little, because you know exactly what he’s going to do. And he does it, throwing you on your bed like your weight is nothing to him. You reckon you might seem weightless to him – he works out a lot, with the help of his physical therapist. It’s helped him with the pain in his leg, though he does sometimes complain about the itching and pulling of the scars still.

Whenever he does, you make sure to show him just how much you love his scars. And you think he’s started to love them too.

He takes off his shirt before joining you on the bed, hands pulling on your ankles to make you lie down. You yelp a little, mostly because it surprised you, but when he pulls your pants down, the yelp morphs into a small breathy sound. Especially as he presses soft kisses to the inside of your thigh once you’re naked, revering every inch of your skin. He’s left your panties on though, and you almost feel his gaze burning you through the fabric.

“You’ve soaked your panties,” he comments. “Always so ready for me.”

“I just want to have your cock buried in me,” you whine as his kisses move closer to your core.

He smirks against your skin, before softly biting into it. When you hiss, he uses his tongue to lap the sting away. “Then you shouldn’t have been a tease.”

You want to curse him, to tie him up on your bed so you can sit on him, so you can use his dick to pleasure yourself, but when he wraps his lips on your clit through your panties, you moan.

He’s quick to pull your panties to the side, tongue lapping at your entrance twice before he’s moved up to your clit. He draws circles on you, presses on the sensitive organ.

“You taste so good,” he praises. “So sweet.”

Your teeth dig in your bottom lip when he sucks hard. “Kook…”

“Baby.”

As if to reward you, one of his fingers finds your entrance. He teases it for a few seconds, before pushing in, ever so slowly. And then he arches it, finds the sweet spot that makes you see stars, and makes it his mission to make you come as quickly as he can. He pumps his finger, alternates pressing on your clit and sucking on it. A knot starts to form in your lower stomach, and he adds a second finger, adding scissoring motions to the ordeal.

That’s when you start moaning, unashamedly. Loudly, even though you think your neighbors might hear. You don’t care about that, just care about the feeling of the knot tightening and tightening inside of you. It’s about to snap when Jungkook entirely stops, pulling away from you, denying you the orgasm.

“You’ll come around my dick instead, uh?”

“Fuck,” you curse.

He’s only smirking, as he kneels between your legs. “Take off your shirt.”

You bite on your lower lip, sitting up just enough to pull on the fabric. Jungkook helps you, and when your breasts come into view he lets out an appreciative sigh.

“Always so fucking hot. I knew you weren’t wearing a bra.”

It’s your turn to smirk. “I know you like it when I don’t.”

“A good fucking girl indeed.” He bends down to kiss you stupid, and when you fall back on the bed he remains kneeling. His large hands cup your breasts, pushing them together. He seems to like what he sees, because he says, “One of these days I will have to fuck your breasts.”

You look down at yourself. “Don’t think I have enough for that to work.”

“Oh, trust me, baby. You’ve got plenty enough.”

On that note he aligns his dick with your entrance, holding your panties to the side once again. For some reason, he likes doing that. Fucking you while you’re still wearing your panties. Likes to ruin your underwear, until both of your juices are soaking them up.

Today is no different. He pushes all the way in, making your eyes fall shut at the sudden intrusion, and you moan loudly as he lets go of the panties to hold your waist instead.

“Now, you’re going to come around my dick, okay?” he tells you. “Tell me what to do to make you come.”

“Kook,” is all you can say as he pulls almost all the way out before fucking into you hard again. “My…” He starts going back and forth, quickly, and your mouth falls open on a broken moan. He’s stretching you wide open, and the usual burn only turns you on further, only brings back the knot in your stomach. You try to focus, and it takes you a few seconds before you’re able to form a sentence. “Rub on my clit,” you say.

He stills deep inside of you. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Kook.” You reach down, about to do it yourself when he grabs your hands, before holding both of them over your head. When he’s sure you won’t touch yourself again, he starts fucking into you, and he does rub on your clit with his thumb. His touch is light at first, testing your sensitivity, and when you beg for him to go harder, he obeys, timing the motions of his thumb with the back and forth of his hips.

Your hands find purchase on a pillow over your head, and you clutch it tight as you feel the knot returning. With his free hand, Jungkook grabs your neck, holding you into place. And when he starts feeling your walls clenching on him, his fingers dig into your arteries.

“Come for me, baby.”

You choke out a moan, as the sensations suddenly grow tenfold, and then everything snaps inside of you. You cry out his name, and he relaxes his grip on your neck as you come undone, walls pulsing around his shaft. He stills deep inside of you, probably in an attempt to not come too, and when you’re finally coming down from the high, he meets your gaze.

“Still want to swallow my cum, mmh?”

“Kook, fuck.” You chuckle a little. “You’re ready to come already?”

His features grow even darker, and you watch as beads of sweat roll on his cheek and on the side of his neck. “Nah, I think I want to fuck you stupid some more.”

“Shit,” is all you have time to mutter before he’s going at it again. Quick, hard, and he pulls your legs on his shoulders to hit inside of you at a better angle. You’re soon a moaning mess again, and your walls clench around him some more. He holds your legs in place, fucking into you so hard you think he’s rearranging your guts. He’s a grunting mess, and you watch him for a few seconds. He looks so good fucking you like that, chest flushed red, inked arm wrapped around your legs. His other hand is on your hip, fingers digging in the supple skin. Some of his hair sticks to the sweat on his forehead, and if you weren’t focused on letting him pleasure himself, using your pussy, you’d reach out between you to brush the hair away.

But you don’t care right now. You’re fucked out, blissed by the orgasm you just had and the pleasure he’s still bringing to you. You’re still sane enough to think about his leg, to be concerned that it’s going to hurt later, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to care at all.

It takes a while before he slows down, and his movements are slow and languid when he speaks again. “I want to see your lips around my cock again.”

He lets go of your legs, pulling out of you. You miss him right away, but you want to pleasure him far more than you want him to be fucking you right now. So you get on all fours, before sitting back on your heels. Jungkook gets up, standing on the side of the bed, before holding out his hand for you to take.

You grab it, gently, and he pulls you closer to the side of the bed. Because it’s easier for him to come when he’s standing, and you know he’s holding the orgasm in already.

You sit on the side of the bed, before massaging his thighs once more. Eyes meeting his as he’s looking down at you, towering over you. You ignore his dick, but when he moves closer, tapping it on your lips, you can’t resist to lick at him.

All you taste on him is yourself, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t turn you on even more.

“Suck me, baby. I’m so close.”

“Fuck my mouth, then. Use me.”

“You think you can’t make me come?”

Oh, the little shit. You’re going to make him come just fine.

You look down, eyes following the vein on his dick. It’s glistening from your juices right now, and when you wrap your lips around his tip, you really do taste yourself. It’s a taste you’re getting used to, because Jungkook really does like to come down your throat.

You grab the base of his dick in one hand, using the other to palm at his balls. His insufferable smirk melts away as you start working on him, alternating sucking on his tip and playing with his frenulum with your tongue. He’s rock hard in your mouth, far harder than he was earlier, and you know he’s going to come in no time.

So you start bobbing your head up and down his shaft, swallowing around him whenever he hits the back of your throat. He’s a grunting mess, a moaning mess, by the time you start squeezing his balls, and you hold eye contact as you pleasure him.

“I’m in love with that fucking mouth of yours,” he says, and his eyes flutter shut. “You’re so fucking good.”

You moan around his dick, which in turn makes him hiss. And when he starts moving a little, his motions sloppy, you know he’s about to come. So you squeeze harder, suck harder, and moan around him as hot shots of his seed hit the back of your throat. You swallow it as he comes, listening to the chorus of moans and curses he’s letting out, with your name laced into it. It’s sinful, hot, and you think you could also come just listening to him like that.

When you’ve milked the last of his orgasm out of him, Jungkook pulls away, your mouth making a popping sound when he’s out. He chuckles, bending down to press a kiss on your forehead, before grabbing your jaw.

“You swallowed everything?”

Ever the obedient girl, you open your mouth to show him that you indeed did. He seems satisfied, and he kisses your forehead once more, before grabbing your hand. You already know he’s going to pull you to the shower, and you follow him, eyes falling to his ass.

He’s got a great ass. Not necessarily big, but it’s muscled, defined, and the thighs that complement it turns it into a work of art, in your opinion. You love Jungkook’s body, love the care that he puts into it, and you don’t think you’d get tired of looking at him.          

He glances over his shoulder. “Like the view?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Shut up.”

“You’re the one that’s staring at my ass! Even I don’t do this to you.”

You frown, digging your heels in the ground to stop in your spot. “You’re annoying.”

“I’m right though.”

He isn’t. You know he likes watching your body too, likes revering every inch of it with his lips and hands and gaze. He makes you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, and you reckon he deserves you making him feel like this too.

“You aren’t,” you finally say. “But, why can’t I look at you? You’re hot.”

“I’m ‘hot’,” he repeats. “Wow.”

“It’s a compliment!”

He bursts out laughing, before pulling you into a hug. “I know, I’m being a little shit. Thank you.” He adds your name sweetly, and then presses a peck to the top of your head. “By the way,” he says against your hair, “Do you want to come to my photography exposition next week?”

Your heart melts in your chest, and you wrap your arms around his waist to hold him flush against you, even though he’s still sweaty from the sex. “Of course, Kook. I’d love to come.”

You look up to meet his gaze. He’s smiling softly, with that lovesick look to his eyes that makes you feel like you’re swimming in ecstasy.

You want him to look at you like this until the day you die. Want to look at him like this too. Because, truly, you become the most important girl in the world when he looks at you like this. The most important girl in that world of you two, that space that belongs just to you.

“Thank you,” he finally whispers, and then he kisses you softly. “Let’s shower now.”

You chuckle, before following him into the bathroom.

Friday, December 14th

                Jungkook is anxious. He’s been wanting to show you his photography for a while, but he’s always refrained from doing it. Partly because he still remembers you nagging him in Chicago about taking so many pictures of you, but mostly because this exhibit feels personal to him. It’s a collection of moments he experienced throughout the year, and when he looks at it, he feels like it’s his soul bared. And even though he’s bared his soul to you countless times before, it’s different like this. He doesn’t even know if you’re going to like it.

He sighs, shakily, before wiping his clammy hands on the fabric of his dress pants. They’re pale, and his light blue dress shirt is tucked neatly into it. It’s a little too tight on him, and he’s been getting looks from some people a couple of times, but most people avoid his exposition.

Mostly because Laura made it clear that he was an asshole, and all of her photography friends started hating on him too. Before, he would have probably been angry about it, upset with Laura, but now he feels like it doesn’t matter. He knows his friends are all going to come anyway, and though it’s been stressing him out, he knows that it’ll be fine.

The first friend that gets here is Namjoon. Namjoon, the biggest art nerd. Somehow, it soothes Jungkook that he’s the one here first. Because if the exposition is trash, he knows his friend will give an honest review.

Namjoon claps his hand and pulls him into a bro hug, his eyes going over the pictures. He smiles appreciatively, glancing at Jungkook.

“You should really become an art photographer. I told you you’re good at it.”

The praise makes Jungkook’s eyes well up with surprising tears. “Joon…”

“No, I’m serious!” Namjoon insists. He looks at the exposition again. “It’s a cycle. Twelve pictures, with light changing ever so slightly in all of them. And the centerpiece? You’re a goner.”

Jungkook blushes deep red, and he digs his hands in his pants. “Uh… It just felt fitting.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding slowly. “Of course. I’m happy for you, man.”

“Thanks,” Jungkook chokes out. “I’m… so fucking anxious for her to see it.”

Namjoon playfully pushes him. “Every time I’ve seen her she just looked at you with hearts in her eyes. She’s gone for you just as much as you are for her.”

“Is she?” Jungkook asks, toying with his piercing, though he already knows. He’s seen the switch in you – the way you grew softer around him, the way you take every opportunity to be with him and cherish it like it’s the last. You make him feel like he was born one day to find you, like you were the purpose of his life. It’s an intense feeling, a scary one, but he reckons when he was younger he always believed that he’d know when he was going to meet the right one.

Well… He didn’t know it right away with you, right? It took him what… seven years? Eight? He doesn’t even remember. But when the switch happened in him, he knew right away. He knew right away that you were the one, that he’d have to spend the rest of his life making sure that you know that. Making sure to prove it to you. He thinks he’s been doing it now, though he has to admit he was too scared at first. Hurt you instead of loving you. But he believes he’s been doing better now. Believes he’s redeeming himself a little more every day.

He stops his train of thoughts, because he’s getting emotional and you’re not even here yet. Namjoon tells him he’s going to look at the rest of the exhibition, and that he’ll come back when the rest of the friend group arrives. Jungkook watches him go, before grabbing his phone out of his back pocket to occupy himself.

[5:47 pm] You: i’ll be a little late. i’m stuck in traffic, but i’m close! [5:47 pm] You: i’m sure u’re doing great! my dad told me to wish u good luck

What you don’t know is your dad told him himself. They’ve been talking, from time to time. Mostly because your father believes he should come to California for the Holidays along with you. Jungkook hasn’t decided yet, because he doesn’t want to impose and he doesn’t want to make you feel forced to welcome him. Your father says he’s sure you’ll accept, but he hasn’t had that conversation with you yet.

He feels like if tonight goes well, then it might be the moment to ask.

[5:48 pm] jkonthebeat: joonie is already here! i think jo and tae should get here soon [5:49 pm] You: jo told me they’ll get there with jimin and scottie, and scottie just texted me that he saw laura and feels like murdering someone

Jungkook almost laughs out loud, but he stops himself just in time to see that Scottie, Jimin, Taehyung and Jo indeed just got here. They all wave when they see him, bright smiles on display, laughing about something they probably were joking about before they saw him. Jungkook waves them over, and the anxiety spikes once more as they take a look at his photography.

When they all compliment him, Taehyung and Jimin clapping him on the back and telling him that they’re proud of him, his anxiety calms down once more. He’s relieved, and at this point he’s pretty positive you’ll like it too. Because if his closest friends, who take every opportunity to tease him, tell him that he did a good job, then he reckons he did.

They all stay with him, and Namjoon comes back a moment later, as they all talk and joke around. Jungkook can’t help but feel gazes on him: Laura and her friends. He’s pretty sure Laura would murder him if she got the chance, and he only knows it’ll grow tenfold when you get here.

The presence of his friends grounds him, and when the examiner comes to look at his exposition, Jungkook’s speech is strong and steady, as he explains everything that he wanted to represent in the pictures. He explains how the light follows the hour of the day, and his emotions at the time. Each picture represents a month, last year. It starts in January, when he wasn’t doing great at all. The pictures are darker in the beginning months, then gradually get lighter in May and June. They’re hopeful, those pictures. One of them is a picture of the frogs under the bridge next to the dance studio, and he remembers when he walked with you, after dance practice all those months ago. He remembers the hope he felt, how his steps were light for the first time in months.

Then it all grows dark again in July. The picture isn’t unhappy. It’s the night sky at the cottage that he photographed with a long exposure tape. It isn’t sad, no, because it does remind him of you. But he chose it because July was sad, too, as were the following months. Dark pictures for August and September follow. A stormy night when he couldn’t sleep, and he knew Laura was asleep in his bed when he took the picture, yet he couldn’t sleep, didn’t want to be with her.

He was thinking of you, hating himself for choosing her.

October becomes lighter again, slowly. A picture in the shade in Chicago. You’re in it, as are Taehyung and Jo, with your backs turned to the camera. He’s titled it ‘Where I learned to live again’. Because truly, that’s how it felt to him. That trip to Chicago… it made him feel reborn.

November is a picture he took from the window of your apartment, of a bright, golden setting sun. That one he titled ‘Where I found hope again’. Because he found hope while being with you, more than you can imagine.

The last one is a picture of a bright, snowy day you spent with him a week ago. The storm hit unexpectedly, and you stayed with him, at the house with the other boys. It’s a picture of the backyard, with you all laughing around as you’re making snow angels. The picture is focused on you, with your big grin and rosy cheeks from the cold.

This one is called ‘Where I learned to love again’, but to be fair, he started to love again way before that. And it’s represented in the picture in the middle of the twelve, the one he chose to put there months ago. Back then, he didn’t know if he wanted to present his project at the exhibition, but with how things have evolved with you, he decided to do it.

It’s a picture of you, laughing, that he snapped in July at the cottage. He’s written a text next to it, a dedication to you, and that most of all is the reason why he’s anxious for you to see it.

In the forgotten space between then and now, her smile lingers. Healing, shining, like the sun after a long winter. Months that led to her, and now warmth clings to the world. The sun rays refuse to go away, and they shine ever so brightly after the darkness. Her light gives life, her smile gives hope, and her heart gives love.

It’s cheesy. Now that he thinks of it, he almost regrets writing that. But he knows that art blossoms where there’s love, and you’ve been his muse all year. Because most pictures, starting in April, are related to you. A story of how you got to where you are now.

His exhibit is called The Forgotten Spaces. It’s about how while he experienced those moments at first, he didn’t know. Didn’t realize what they meant. How he forgot that they meant something. Now, looking back, he knows that all of these moments meant everything. Meant everything to you and him, as they are your forgotten spaces, and he doesn’t care what anyone thinks about it.

Doesn’t care that Laura has been throwing him side eyes, and how he might have gone too poetic on the project. He’s proud of what he did, and he just can’t wait for you to see.

When the examiner walks away, with a “Good job” and a bright smile, Jungkook once again relaxes. His friends are still nearby, and their chatter dims out the rest of the room, until he’s only focused on them. They’re talking about getting drinks after, to celebrate, and Jungkook can’t help but start feeling excited.

It only grows tenfold when he notices you walking in. You look so pretty standing there, scanning the room as you search for him. You’re wearing dark pants, with a pale blouse you’ve tucked into them. When your gaze meets him, you light up like you’re the brightest star in the night sky, and you wave at him as you make your way closer.

You do notice Laura too. To Jungkook’s surprise, you offer her a smile, and then walk past as if you don’t care about her. And he reckons maybe you don’t anymore, after all that’s happened.

“Hey,” he greets you when you stop next to him.

Your gaze hasn’t moved to the pictures on the wall behind him yet. You’re entirely focused on him, and he senses his friends taking a few steps away to allow you two some privacy. You grab his hand, a thing you do in public because you’ve told him you don’t like public displays of affection, but that holding hands doesn’t count. He still can’t resist but pull you a little closer, and he grabs your other hand.

And then his heart starts beating wildly in his chest, because you look over his shoulder, tiptoeing to see the wall. And he sees thousands of emotions moving on your features, until you just turn fully red.

“Oh my God, Kook,” you let out. “Is your exposition about me?”

His heart sinks in his chest. He feels like he did something wrong, like he shouldn’t have taken pictures of you, but then you add, “You’re so fucking cheesy, what the hell.”

It’s like a weight is lifted from his shoulders, and he smirks down at you. “I mean, how could I resist? You’re my muse.”

“Stop!” you say, punching him in the chest. You then walk around him, taking a proper look at the pictures. “Is that why you didn’t want me to see, before today?”

Because you’ve asked. Countless times, but he always told you he’d rather not spoil the surprise. And when you turn and offer him a smile so sweet it tastes like honey, Jungkook knows he did the right thing.

“Yeah,” he says, and he turns around to motion at the pictures. “All of them are titled? And the one in the middle…”

“Wait,” you let out. “Wait, did you write a poem about me too? Jungkook, what the fuck?”

If he couldn’t see your teary eyes, he’d think you’re angry. But you clearly aren’t – at best, you’re probably just overwhelmed.

“I mean, it’s not a poem?” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Just… It kind of explains the whole thing, and why I chose those pictures.”

At that you take a step forward, to look at the pictures closely. He lets you do it, lets you read the titles, following the chronological order of the months of this year. He can see your blush deepening when you get to the pictures where you can be seen clearly, and then you’re reading the text in the middle closely. He thinks you reread it a couple of times, because it takes you a while before you glance at him again.

You’re still teary-eyed when you do, and you extend a hand towards him. He takes it gently, raising it to his mouth so he can press a kiss to your knuckles.

“Don’t cry,” he says softly. “I didn’t want to make you cry.”

You choke out a laugh. “This is just… Everyone can see this.” Another rush of anxiety moves through him before you add, “I just can’t believe I get to be with you. Like…”

You turn towards the pictures, and point towards the one from April, which is just a picture of a street light in the fog. “I hated you then. I hated you so bad, wished you had never come back into my life. And then… and then we fell in love, we hurt each other bad, and fell in love some more. Like…” You pause, because tears are moving on your cheeks. He reaches to dry them, and then you continue. “I can’t believe we’ve been through all of this, and finally figured it out.” You look away from him to say the next words. “I can’t believe I was afraid at first. There’s nothing scary about being with you.”

Your words echo in his mind for so long after you’re done talking that he just remains frozen next to you. They calm his heart, warm his soul, and make tears form in his eyes too, tears that he blinks away before scraping his throat in an attempt to get rid of the lump that was forming there. He murmurs your name then, for just you to hear.

“I love you,” he breathes out.

You look startled to hear the words. It’s the first time he’s told you ‘I love you’. You usually tiptoe around the words, using other ways to say it, like “I’m in love” or “text me when you’re home”, but now that they’re out in the open, they feel like the most natural thing he’s ever said in his life.

“Fuck, Kook,” you say, and you chuckle as a smile move on your lips, making your eyes shine from within. “I love you too. Thank you for being patient with me.”

He blinks his tears away. “Thank you for wanting to be with me, after everything. I’m still not sure I deserve it, but I really love you.”

“I know,” you say, nodding your head slowly. “But you deserve it! Like…” you trail off, motioning at the pictures. “Who would do this?”

“Is it… too much?” he asks, voicing his fear.

You laugh. “I mean… it’s a lot? But it’s so artistic and pretty, and I can’t believe I inspired you to do this.”

He echoes your laugh, shrugging his shoulders. “It was easy. I actually had almost everything done in October? I was just waiting to get the perfect pictures for November and December.”

“I can’t believe you used pictures of me,” you say, shaking your head. “Now everyone’s going to see my face.”

He pulls you closer, instinctively. “And they’re all lucky for it. But if you want me to take the pictures down already, I understand.”

“No.” You tilt your head to the side. “You’ve worked on this for so long, I won’t force you to take it down. It’s just… strange to see my face. But you’ve edited the pictures, right? No way I look this good.”

He rolls his eyes, gently nudging you with his elbow. “You do. And my camera is good quality. But honestly you barely needed any editing.”

You clearly don’t believe him, and you blabber on about it for a while. He just lets you speak, smiling fondly at you whenever you gaze at him. You eventually apologize for talking so much, and he laughs as he pulls you into his chest for a quick hug.

“Don’t apologize,” he reassures you. “I like listening to you. And…” He glances at the pictures. “I’m glad you like the project. I’m sorry I didn��t tell you it was mostly about you before? Maybe you wouldn’t have been a blushing mess then.”

“Jungkook!” you yelp out, and you pinch at his side in retaliation. He cringes, and then bursts out laughing as you aim for his sides again. He blocks you, grabbing your wrists and holding you in place. “I’m blushing because there’s pictures of me and your ex is here! And like… all those strangers too. Doesn’t mean I don’t like the project.”

“I know,” he says, chuckling. “I’m teasing you.”

He likes doing that. Teasing you. It shows him how, all those times he did it when you were younger, he probably meant something entirely different and was just too immature to realize it. To realize that you were the one for him. Now that he knows, teasing you fills him with giddy happiness, like a kid on Christmas morning. Mostly because you usually tease back, and you don’t disappoint tonight.

No, you end up bickering, until Jo tells you that you’re acting like an old couple. You both glare at her, but it stops the bickering, long enough for Jungkook to actually present his project to a couple of other people that have moved closer.

When the evening is over, and the last of the visitors are leaving including his friends, you stick around to help him take down the pictures. You hand them to him, though you hold onto the July night sky for far longer than he thought you would.

He glances around, satisfied to see that Laura’s left, before stepping closer to you.

“You can keep it if you want,” he tells you, and he steals a kiss on your temple.

You don’t even whine like you usually do in public. You just sigh, looking up at him. “I miss this weekend,” you admit. “It was so fun.”

“Maybe we can go next summer again?” he suggests. “I’m pretty sure everyone would be willing.”

It makes you smile, and you say, “I’d love to!” Jungkook is about to speak, but you quickly add, “And JK?”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I…” you trail off, looking around, and your cheeks turn crimson once more. “I wanted to ask you something?”

You say it like a question, and it makes him chuckle. “What?”

“I know you’re… not going to go to Korea for the Holidays and…” You nibble on your bottom lip, meet his gaze once before letting yours drop to the floor. “Would you like to come with me? To California? I… my dad told me to invite you, and I’d like to have you there.”

His eyes well up with tears once again, and this time he doesn’t blink them away. “Of course! Of course, I’ll come.”

You step closer to him, wrap your arms around his middle and rest your head on his chest. “I know the plane tickets are expensive, but dad said he’d get one for you? So you don’t have to worry about it.”

“I can buy the ticket.”

“It’s a gift!” you insist. “Besides… he’s already bought it.”

Jungkook is surprised, because your father didn’t mention it last time he talked to him. But at the same time, he does understand why he wouldn’t have said it – your father probably wanted you to ask him yourself.

It’s understandable, and you look so cute fumbling with your words like that that Jungkook can’t help but press soft kisses on the top of your head. “Did he now?” He chuckles, and presses a kiss to your forehead when you gaze up at him. “Well, I guess I’m going to have to accept the gift, uh?”

You smile. “Yep, you’re going to have to,” you agree. And when you pull away, you let out an excited yelp that has him burst out laughing. “We’re going on a trip together!”

“We are,” he echoes, nodding his head. “I hope you don’t mind me sleeping on the plane ride. Planes make me sleep.”

You frown, and then chuckle. “You’re so weird.”

“That’s why you love me, uh?”

You look up at the sky as if annoyed, and then start giggling when he tickles your side playfully. “Stop!”

“Just because you’re cute,” he says, and he pecks your nose before pulling away.

He’s gone. He’s gone for you. He knows, his friends know, and sometimes he thinks the whole universe knows. And maybe that’s what happens when you’re destined to be with someone – when you finally reach them, when your paths finally cross and mesh to form one, it feels like the universe finds its meaning. And it does, for you. At least that’s how Jungkook feels, and that’s what inspired his photography project.

That night, when you lie in your bed, Jungkook makes sure to hold you close to him as he big spoons you. And when you mutter, half asleep, that you told your father your boyfriend will indeed be coming for the Holidays, Jungkook fights tears.

“Your boyfriend, uh?”

You nod against him. “You are, aren’t you? I think it’s time we make it official.”

And though it’s not like people didn’t already know, Jungkook still says, “So you’re my girlfriend, uh?”

You chuckle. “You did tell that girl at the Halloween party that I was your girlfriend, didn’t you?”

He had. He was embarrassed for a few seconds, until lust had taken over him, thanks to the alcohol and weed in his system.

“True,” he hums. “Well, then I’ll tell my mom that we’re dating? She’s been nagging me about you.”

“You… you talked to your mom about me?”

He presses a kiss on the back of your head. “Of course. I told her about you for the first time in June.” He pauses, then chuckles. “Well technically, she already knew who you were. I think I’ve been talking about you to her for years.”

“Kook,” you whine. “She probably hates me.”

He pulls you closer. “Nah, trust me. She loves you. She’s already talking about having us over during the summer break.”

He’d love to do that with you. To visit his home country, along with the person that feels like home to him. He thinks you’d like it there, even though you don’t know the language.

“Oof, you better teach me some Korean before then,” you say, and you both laugh. “All you’ve taught me so far is how to say hello and some curse words.”

“Got to start somewhere.”

You laugh again, and then you sigh, as you hold his arm a little tighter. “Indeed. Too bad I have nothing to teach you before we go to California.”

He chuckles deeply, and you talk the night away like that, even as you both grow tired. When you start yawning more than talking, Jungkook presses another kiss to the back of your head.

“We should go to sleep,” he says, and he fights a yawn. “We have to study tomorrow.”

You whine a little, in that cute way of yours. “Gosh, fuck studying. But yeah, we should go to sleep.”

“I… I love you,” Jungkook says tentatively.

He can hear the smile on your lips when you reply, “I love you too. Good night, Kook.”

“Good night.”

Monday, December 24th

                The house is loud, even though there’s only five of you. You think it’s mostly because Jungkook is playing with Louis, your father’s son. Your brother, sort of. They’re screaming in the living room, as Jungkook imitates the sounds Louis makes.

It’s adorable, it really is, and you reckon you like seeing how Jungkook acts with a kid. Even though you don’t want any, it just… rubs you the right way, you guess. Makes you want to hold him close to you, but then again you always want to hold Jungkook close.

Your father is currently working on something in his office. Even though it’s Christmas Eve, the grind doesn’t stop for him, and you know it won’t stop for you either once you graduate. Especially as you’re considering more and more to follow in his footsteps, as he suggested getting you in touch with the firm he was working at when he lived back on the East Coast with you and your mother.

That leaves you with Isabel, his new wife. She has been sweet to you – an angel, truly. Referring to you as her step-daughter, saying she always wanted a daughter and is really happy that she has you. You don’t know what your father told her about your relationship with your own mother, but you reckon it feels great to receive some motherly love, no matter how unexpected it is.

And she’s been giving you a lot. You got here three days ago and at first, it was a little overwhelming. But you’re already getting used to it, and you think it’s for the best. Because you do need it, especially in the middle of the Holiday season.

After all, it’s the first time you spend it without your mother. Even though you’ve never really received love from her, it still feels strange to be away, but you’re more accepting of it every day.

You haven’t really talked to her since she’s kicked you out. You don’t want to, and Mary agrees that it might be best for you to cut ties for now. She’s not opposed to you reconnecting in the future, as long as you keep a safe distance from your mother. For now, you don’t see that ever happening, and you feel comfortable with that. You don’t need your mother – she’s never really been a mother to you anyway.

“I don’t know who’s louder, your boyfriend or Louis,” Isabel complains and you chuckle as you glance at her.

You’re in the kitchen, and she’s putting the turkey in the oven for later tonight. You’ve been helping out a little, but she affirmed that she got it covered, so now you’re mostly just sitting on a bar stool, watching her work.

“Pretty sure it’s Jungkook,” you say, and you laugh as he indeed shrieks. “I think he prefers Louis over me.”

Isabel laughs, a crystalline laugh that sounds like she’s rehearsed it a thousand times. It’s pretty, and you’re a little jealous, knowing most of the times when you laugh you snort like a pig.

“Stop it, he’s head over heels for you,” she says, tutting. She rinses a cutting board, before putting it away in the dishwasher. “It’s actually kind of adorable.”

You feel the blush creeping up your neck, until it reaches your cheeks and turns them deep crimson. “Is it?”

Isabel nods widely. “It is! I wish your father still looked at me like that.”

“He does,” you reassure her. “He really loves you.”

Isabel smiles shyly, and she busies herself with washing some dish that she doesn’t usually put in the dishwasher. For a time, you both just listen to Jungkook and Louis, and then she speaks again. “I hope… I hope it doesn’t make you uncomfortable?”

You hear the question mark at the end of her sentence, and it makes you look down at a random spot on the kitchen island in front of you. “Uh… I think it used to. But… being here right now helps?”

“I’m glad,” she says softly, and when you gaze up you find her smiling fondly. “I didn’t want to push the relationship before, but I think you deserve having your father in your life more. We’re happy to have you over whenever you want to.”

For some reason, you used to think she’d rather not have you over. It makes you blink away sudden tears, and you chuckle awkwardly. “Thank you. I wish I could host you three at home too, but my apartment isn’t big enough.”

“Yet,” she teases with a wink. “If you follow in your father’s footsteps you’ll be able to get a nice house for yourself and Jungkook.”

The perspective of a future like that, alongside Jungkook, makes butterflies arise in your stomach. “That’d be great. I can only wish I’m half as good as him.”

“And you know, if you really want to do international law instead of something in a firm like your father, you can too! He’s got great contacts at some embassies in Europe.”

You know that he does. But the need to get away, to live abroad, isn’t as strong as it once used to be for you. Because now you know that that was why you liked international law so much. Though you still find it interesting, you don’t wish to move away anymore. Not when you have Jungkook here at home.

“Honestly,” you let out slowly. “I think I want to stay here. In the US, I mean? I guess it depends on where Jungkook wants to go. He’s really close to his friends, and I wouldn’t want to force him to move away.”

Because the option of breaking up isn’t even there, and you don’t even want to consider trying long distance. No, you think Jungkook and you are made of stuff that lasts, of stuff that you can build a whole life on. He feels the same way – last night, he told you that one day he’d like to marry you. He was a little tipsy, that’s true, but it’s proof enough that he wants to spend the rest of his life with you.

“What about your friends?” Isabel asks.

You think of Jiho. Of Jisung and Heather and the rest of the dance crew. Of Jo, Bridget, and even Kiko. Of Jungkook’s friends too, because they’ve become your friends as well. You reckon you wouldn’t want to move away from them either. They’ve grown to be your family, even though you’re realizing you’ve always had a family here, in California.

“I love them too much to leave,” you admit, and it feels strangely relieving to say it. As if you’re allowing yourself to truly care about them, to truly accept that they occupy an important part in your life. “I think I’ve got a good future ahead of me, if I stay home. Yes, it’s hard because it’s close to my mother, but it’ll always be home.”

“And that’s totally okay!” Isabel says, offering you a bright smile. “You’re allowed to want to stay.” She pauses for a few seconds, before adding teasingly, “Even if your father really wants you to move here.”

You laugh along with her, and when silence rises around you again, you glance towards the living room. From the kitchen, you can only see a small part of it, and you can’t see Jungkook or Louis. But now that the turkey is in the oven, Isabel and you move over there, and you end up playing Just Dance with Louis, even though he’s a little too young to actually dance. Isabel says he loves the game, and Jungkook is happy to oblige.

You watch him as he dances. His movements have gotten more fluid over the last few months, as if all the physical therapy that he did has finally caught up to him. It’s to the point that you’ve discussed with him and the crew about taking him back in as a dancer, but he hasn’t decided yet. Everyone said they’d be happy to have him dance, but Jungkook seems like he’s been appreciating his spot as the choreographer more through the months.

Maybe because you’ve won an award because of his choreographies.

Jungkook catches you looking, and he winks at you over his shoulder. You smile as your cheeks tint pink, and then he’s back to focusing on the dance, even though he’s purposefully missing every beat to let Louis win.

Still, Louis doesn’t, but the toddler doesn’t care, only wanting to dance with you next. So you do, and Jungkook and Isabel talk together on the couch while you entertain Louis. Your father eventually joins the group, and you spend the rest of the afternoon playing around, until it’s time for Louis to take a nap.

You and Jungkook actually decide to take a nap too, mostly because Louis was throwing a fit at the fact that his sister didn’t have to sleep. He only agreed once you said you will sleep too, and you reckon you could use a nap in the comfort of your boyfriend’s arms.

And you do fall asleep quickly, as he’s holding you tight against him. It’s way too warm and you wake up drenched in sweat, but you don’t care. You take a shower while he remains in bed, bringing the clothes you’ve chosen for Christmas Eve along with you so you can get dressed right away.

It’s an ugly Christmas sweater, and Jungkook got one too, because your father insisted that you needed to dress with one to be welcomed at the table for dinner. To compensate for the silly look, you decide to put on makeup and curl your hair, and when you’re finally done, you exchange spots in the bathroom with Jungkook.

He quickly kisses you on the way in, telling you that you look amazing, and then you leave him to his own shower. You go back to your room to put away the clothes you were wearing earlier, and you’re about to head downstairs when your phone starts vibrating in your hand.

You freeze as your mother’s name appears on the screen, and as your heart drops down to your stomach.

It’s Christmas Eve, you think. She probably only wants to wish you a Merry Christmas, because surprisingly enough, she’s done that every year. Probably because Christmas is her favourite holiday. And it’s probably only because it is indeed Christmas Eve that you decide to accept the call.

“Hello,” you say as you put the phone against your ear.

She says your name, and she sounds relieved, as if she didn’t expect you to pick up at all. “How are you doing?”

“I’m great,” you tell her, but you don’t ask her the question back.

You don’t think she deserves you asking and, frankly, you don’t care about the answer enough.

“I’ve heard… that you’re not going to be at your aunt’s tonight?”

You sigh. “No. I’m visiting my father in California.”

“Oh,” she lets out. “Well then, Merry Christmas.” She pauses for a few seconds, as if she thought you were going to wish it back. “I was hoping to see you.”

“Why?” you ask, and you hope she doesn’t hear the tremble in your voice because, in truth, what she just said is breaking your heart.

“To… make amends?” she says. “I regret what happened earlier this year. It was mostly because I wanted to sell the house.”

You didn’t know she wanted that. It still doesn’t justify her actions – she could have just told you that instead.

“Ah,” you let out. There are a few seconds of silence, and then you add, “Have you?”

“Not yet,” she admits. “I haven’t been able to.”

You wait for her to say more, but she remains silent. You eventually cave in, asking, “Why?”

“Because I’ve been living there for a long time,” she explains. “It’s a place that’s dear to me, even though it holds a lot of bad memories.”

You scoff. “You know, you’ve got a lot of balls to tell that to me.”

“I don’t want to fight,” she quickly says. “I… I’ve been going to therapy. I’m still early in the process, but I don’t want to fight with you anymore.”

Your heart breaks a little more, and you move to sit on the bed.

“I want to make efforts,” she continues. “I have been a horrible mother to you, and I know it’s too late to change the past, but I hope I can make the future better.”

“Listen mom,” you say, stopping her before she actually makes you cry. “I appreciate that you decided to get therapy. It was way past time. But… right now, I’m not in a place mentally where I want to allow you to be in my life. I really hope therapy helps you to become a better person, but it doesn’t mean I have to let you be in my life.”

She sniffles on her side of the line, and you think it’s the first time you’ve ever heard her cry. It’s hard, almost makes you take everything that you said back, but you’ve worked too hard with Mary to just give up right now.

“I understand,” she eventually says. “If there ever comes a day where you think we can talk, I’m just a phone call away. We could grab coffee. I have a lot I want to tell you, and I don’t think it justifies how I acted, but maybe you’ll understand.”

The thing is, you don’t care. You want to keep your peace of mind, but you reckon it’s Christmas Eve. You don’t have to tell her this today and ruin her favourite holiday.

You really are the most mature out of the two of you, aren’t you?

“Okay,” you choose to say. “I’ll call you whenever I’m ready.”

“Thank you,” she whispers in the phone, voice heavy with emotion. “I’m sorry.”

Her apology hurts more than anything else could have. “Don’t apologize,” you tell her. “Instead, work on yourself, and prove to me that you mean it. If that can be the Christmas gift I ask for this year.”

“Yes,” she immediately says. “Of course.”

A long silence follows that, and you hear the shower turning off in the bathroom. You don’t want Jungkook to come back while you’re still talking to your mother, so you say, “Listen, I have to go now. Merry Christmas to you too.”

She wishes you goodbye, and she tells you to say hi to your dad for her. You know you won’t do it, because your mother will always be a sensitive subject when it comes to your father. But you still let her think that you will, because you don’t need to be a bitch right now.

You could be, you’re aware of it, but you think it’d upset you more than anything else. You don’t need the negativity right now.

You’re still sitting on the bed when Jungkook comes in, and it takes him one second to see your face and ask, “What’s wrong?”

You sigh, and you meet his gaze. “My mother called me.”

He looks startled, eyebrows shooting towards his hairline. “What did she want?”

You tell him everything about the conversation, and once you’re done, you ask for his opinion. He sits on the bed next to you, grabbing your hand and toying with your fingers.

“I think you’re very strong, and I’m proud of you for standing up for yourself,” he carefully says. “And it’s actually a good thing that she’s in therapy, but honestly, I don’t think you need to let her back in. You don’t have to, and you should never feel forced to.”

Your eyes fill with tears, and you rest your head on his shoulder. “Thank you, Kook.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, and even though he’s done it countless times before, it ignites a warm fire in your chest. A comfortable fire, one that can chase away any cold and darkness your mother brings to you.

“I got you,” he whispers in your hair. “Always. Whatever you need, tell me and I’ll get it for you.”

“You’re cheesy,” you tease him.

“You love it.”

You do. He knows that well enough.

You sigh, and then you sit straight once more. “Should we head downstairs? We could set up the table for Isabel.”

Jungkook nods, and he quickly pecks your temple before standing up. “How do you like the sweater?”

“You’re adorable in it,” you compliment him, standing up too. “I love it.” You wrap your arms around his waist, and he quickly hugs you back.

“Not as adorable as you, but thank you,” he says, and he giggles when you pinch his sides.

“Just take the compliment.”

He’s pouting when you look up at him. “Sorry, I can’t help myself. You really are adorable.”

You blush a little, and when he leans down to kiss you, you hold him tighter. Let him lead the kiss, though he keeps it soft and slow. It makes you feel reborn, complete, and when he pulls away, you sigh dreamily.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“Love you too,” he whispers back, and he pecks your forehead once before he leads you downstairs.

The evening ends up being a blast. You forget all about your mother as you’re laughing, chatting and eating along with everyone, with Christmas music playing in the background. When the subject of Jungkook’s exposition comes to the surface, you feel yourself turning beet red as Jungkook shows the pictures he used.

You still can’t believe he used you as a subject. Loved you enough to make you his muse, and to risk failing a project that was supposed to be a little more serious. Luckily enough, he passed with flying colours, and he even got a museum asking him to take pictures of their art for them, so they can put them on a web platform in an attempt to make their museum virtual.

Opening gifts has you all laughing till you are teary-eyed, with Louis being the receiver of most of them. You and Jungkook got him a small truck and a plush toy, and he’s been trying to fit the plushie in the truck, but so far he’s been unsuccessful.

To your surprise, Jungkook hands you a gift, a sheepish look on his features. You open it with a cocked eyebrow, because you don’t know how a trip to a winery fits in a box like this one. When you find an octopus plushie, one of those you can revert to make it happy or mad, you offer him a small pout, telling him you love it.

Luckily enough, you got him a gift too, with the help of his mother. She wanted to get him plane tickets for Korea, and asked you to give them to him. It was an awkward conversation, and you still have no idea how she got your phone number, but even with the language barrier you still managed to talk to her. She was sweet, kept saying how she can’t wait to meet you, and now you know you’re going during Spring Break.

Jungkook tears up when he sees the tickets, and he kisses you deeply in front of everyone else. Louis makes you laugh, letting out a disgusted sound and throwing his own plushie at you. It makes you pull away from Jungkook, though you keep hold of his hand for the rest of the evening. At a certain point, Isabel and you go upstairs with Louis since it’s way past his bedtime. The only way to get him to actually sleep is to tell him that he needs to be asleep for Santa Claus to come, and he begrudgingly says that he is going to try and listen for the reindeers on the roof. It’s adorable, and you refrain from telling him that the house doesn’t have an actual chimney for Santa to climb down in, refusing to be the one to kill the childish magic that Christmas still holds for him.

After that, you move to the other side of the house, to a private room with a bar, a pool table and a board game table. You settle at the board game table with Isabel, Jungkook and your father, and it’s there that your father gives you your gift, saying that he preferred not giving you that in front of Louis.

You understand why. It’s a bottle of whiskey, the whiskey you’ve seen him drink countless times growing up. You always asked him for a taste, and he always refused, saying that when you’re old enough, you’d get your own bottle. You cry a little when he pours you a drink, and then wince at the strong taste of the alcohol. Everyone laughs, and you tell your father it’s the best gift you’ve ever received, because frankly, it is.

You go to bed late that night, even though you have a dinner planned with Isabel’s family tomorrow night. You didn’t want to go at first, but since you’ve been getting along with her so well, you accept the invitation and then wish her and your father good night, before going to the room you share with Jungkook.

Jungkook groans as he plops down on the bed, face hidden in the covers. “That whiskey hit hard,” he complains.

You laugh, and you sit next to him, playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. “It’s strong, yeah. No wonder he never let me drink it as a child.”

“You would have died,” Jungkook agrees. He turns his head to the side, looking at you with a sweet lovesick smile on his lips. “This is fun.”

You’re confused, and your brows meet over your eyes. “What?”

He glances at the door, before looking back at you. “Everything. Your family, the vibes. Getting to spend time with you.” He pauses, then precises, “Getting to spend the holidays with you.”

You smile, scrunching up your nose shyly. “Right? I’m so happy.”

“And the plane tickets?” He looks away, hiding his face in the covers again. “How the fuck did you manage to do this?”

“Your mother called me. No idea how she got my number,” you tell him. “She asked me if I could give them to you, as a gift from us both. As if I thought of it. It was all her. But she said you’d be happier if you received them from me.”

You can hear the grin in his voice when he says, “Told you she loves you.”

“I can’t wait to meet her.”

He turns to lie on his back, one hand behind his head. He looks heavenly like this, and you climb on his lap.

“Oh,” he lets out.

“What?”

“I don’t know,” he says, chuckling. “Merry Christmas to me.”

“Is that so?” you tease, and you grind your hips against him.

He looks alarmed for half a second before his expression turns dark. “Oh, is that where this is going?” he asks, and his hands find your waist. “In your father’s home? You’ll have to be extremely silent.”

“Good thing we’ve got pillows, I can hide my face in one of those.”

It doesn’t take you long before you’re rid of clothes, and you’re back on Jungkook��s lap, kissing him languidly. He guides himself to your entrance, and when you sink on him, the lack of foreplay makes you wince in pain. But he soothes it right away by gently caressing your thighs, and when you kiss him again, it’s slow and sweet.

You make love that night. Like that first night at your apartment, emotions, passion and desire driving all of your moves. And for some reason, while you’re impaled on him, the lines of his poem, his dedication to you, come back to your mind.

In the forgotten space between then and now, her smile lingers. Healing, shining, like the sun after a long winter. Months that led to her, and now warmth clings to the world. The sun rays refuse to go away, and they shine ever so brightly after the darkness. Her light gives life, her smile gives hope, and her heart gives love.

You make love, hands holding his cheeks, rocking of your hips slow and steady. He reaches deep inside of you, filling you with pleasure and hope and life and love. Your forgotten space, where you’ll always meet. The forgotten space of your world ending, together. Of you and him, becoming just one for this last and first dance. Your boyfriend, your person, always and forever.

When you’re lying next to him after, you think about the months, about the hurdles. About the pain and that July night sky. About dancing, with him, about loving him. About getting to be his person, getting to spend your life with him. You think about everything, your soul filling with love – yours and his, entwined in the most beautiful tapestry. You think about his scars – the ones on his heart, on his body. The ones on your own heart. They’re beautiful, all of them. They make him, they make you, and they make the both of you together. You love him, deeply, more than you’ve ever thought you could love. You know that for the rest of your life, you’ll show him that love. Shower him with it, gift it to him without asking for anything back even though you know he’ll give it to you, no questions asked.

You know then, that you were put on this Earth for a reason. Like a fated connection – your souls meant to latch together, to mesh until they’re just one.

You can only hope that he knows it too. You hope that he knows his light gives you life, his smile gives you hope, and his heart gives you love. From this moment, until you dwindle away into the void of eternity.

You sit on the threshold of your memories, with him. Them that breathe for you. Your forgotten spaces.

Prev | Teaser for the sequel When the End Comes

☆☆☆☆☆

The way I am crying right now as I finish rereading? This story, I'm telling you... it makes me far too emotional. Thank you for accompanying me on this beautiful journey. For the last time, I'll ask you guys, what did you think? Did you like it? Was the healing enough after the angst?

All rights reserved to @/oddinary4bts, 2023. Do not copy, repost or translate.

Taglist (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you my bad):

@pamzn | @whoa-jo | @sugaluvmyg | @kelsyx33 | @mafameal | @allisonstonex | @daisies-and-dandelionpuffs | @nadzzzblog | @bloopkook | @synnfulqt | @ggukiepie | @quarter-life-crisis2 | @amylouisecullen | @melodiesforari | @chimchimmarie | @jk-190811 | @notbotheredtho | @jjkluver7 | @chiefdreamercherryblossom | @soland1s | @kingofbodyrolls | @diorjgguk | @babycandy111 | @mindiary

#btswritersclub #btsafterdarknet #the forgotten spaces ch 14 #the forgotten spaces #jjk #jjk fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jjk fic #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jungkook #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook fic #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook angst #jeon jungkook fluff #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #the forgotten spaces series

[hellonearthtoday]

3, 5, 7, 14

Thank you 😌I needed a break from this damn drawing

3. Who is your favorite character outside the main 7?

This is kind of harddd man 😭 born to say Cherry forced to say Curly. Cherry's a character that we actually saw more of, but I have this idea of Curly in my head that's so perfect to me...he's like half my oc...I'm superrr attached to Cherry but I do have to be real w myself cuz whenever I see Curly's name mentioned in any fic or any post it's like a wild lion sighting i get sooo hype

5. What are your favorite ships?

this is NOT hard. My favorite ship is purly I'm an evil purly shipper. I don't typically do shipping because I'm that aroace who is romance repulsed not just for myself but in the media I consume too, but idk something about their dynamic I've half made up in my head abt them...I guess I just really like the dynamic of 2 bros who are friends who might also fall in love We dont know

MARBIT. I really like couples who just giggle together. Couples who justtt rock w eachotherrr something about them....Also they got that forbidden love thing going on and idk the power of laughter could save them. But other than that I'm a platonic power ranger

7. What are your fave non-romantic relationships? (This can be close friends, familial, enemies or even just acquaintances)

This thang is about to get so long. I love non romantic relationships sooo bad I'm romance's biggest hater.

TBH can i say purly here too....they got a friends to lovers thing going on I'll shut up abt them for once this time though.

Johnny and Pony are really the best friends ever, and my idea of them might be fandom crutched more than what's shown in canon, but It don't matter anyway that book came out a bajillion years ago.

Johnny and Dally. I know the jally nation is huge and unstoppable and I can kindaaa see where you're coming from even w how I am...but in my head they aren't brotherly or romantic they're a secret third thing. No labels no nothing. They have something that none of us can touch and it's not romantic to me but they're tgt in every universe

Dally and Ponyboy idk they're funny to me. Like 2 cats put into a fighting ring and one is evil and one just want to sleep and go home idk

CHERRY AND PONYBOY I START CHEWING ON THE WALLS WHEN I SEE THEM PIT AGAINST EACHOTHER IN FICS OR WHEN CHERRY IS BARELY THERE goddd i msis them so much there's something so special to me about an opposite sex friendship that prevails even though it's not seen as a normal thing people do at the time.

14. Tell us five of your headcanons you basically see as canon

POC shepards. It's just kind of real man. I like seeing all the different versions the fandom comes up with but they're a black latino family to me <3

Johnny and Curly hating each other so bad. I think it's the funniest thing ever. Especially if they just don't like eadchother solely off of vibes ...or Curly doesn;t like Johnny bcz Johnny doesn't like him and he's like wtf 😕

It's never said outright but Johnny has anxiety disorder to me.

Ponyboy has low empathy and he just does things out of the kindness of his heart and not bcz "treat people how u want to be treated" bcz whatever LOL! he's autistic to me whatt who said that

PB talks really casually but also somehow rlly awkwardly, and u think he's just chill like that but he's just autistic. He could hate your ass but he talks like some unsocialized forest nymph so you dont know bcz he sounds so docile

#the outsiders #ponyboy curtis #purly #ig #cherry valance #asks #thank youu for the ask i didnt expect it to be so long tbh

[nobibiname]

Ever wondered why the Elucien arguments pulling out Sarah’s 2016 interview and Facebook comment (yeah that one after ACOMAF came out) are SO annoying? 🙄

Ok so I ended up in a TikTok comment section today (yes I know that was my first mistake) and it occurred to me, we are once again not on the same page about some fundamental ideas on writing. The OP argued Sarah hasn’t changed her mind on the next books &elucien and that she said so in an interview after ACOSF.

Ok, but there’s a huge GLARING problem with that.

Basically, a writer makes promises in the text. I’m paraphrasing Sanderson here (I watch his lectures for fun, even tho I don’t write cuz I’m a dork) so he was talking about the first chapter and prologue of a book, or movie… but if you’re writing a multi-book epic, then you’re probably going to make promises about plots and characters of your future books, right?

So what are these promises? Basically what kind of book it is, plot&trope hints, the tone, goals, journeys and obstacles.

Ok back to SJM: why is the argument that “she said Elucien and hasn’t changed her mind infuriating? Because she made different promises in the books. And that is what Elriels mean when we say “set up”.

I mean just from the amount of interactions, Elriel have more than Elucien.. not to mention the warmth, positivity and thoughtfulness she put into their interactions over seriously 4 books. The promises are crystal clear: there is a romance that started as friendship==plot, but she has a bond w/someone else==obstacle, and Rhys forbade it in a moment resulting in her thinking he rejected her, but he didn’t == twist.

These promises need to be addressed, resolved, fulfilled. Is there something even CLOSE to this kind of story promise existing for Elucien?

I have seriously seen people claim that Elucien are both “friends to lovers” AND “enemies to lovers”…. These cannot both be true, like come on… you’re not even sure what kind of story they promise to be? You’re not sure what kinds of promises Sarah made about Elucien?

Why are you not sure? Because it’s not in the text. My personal view is that Elucien is neither… if they happen it’s kind of worse than either trope, they’re certainly not friends, they are at best indifferent to each other and at worst resentful. Mmmm … delicious “indifferent to lovers” 🫠

On a serious note, I don’t “hate” Elucien, but SJM hasn’t made a single promise in the text that I can quote in here that would make me excited about them. He gave her gifts that she didn’t throw away…. ?? Really?… she made a half step toward him… once… no, just no! And that’s how I feel, regardless if “Lulu deserves love”… sure he does, then write a love interest that brings out flirty firey fox boy from book1 and I’m on board 🫡 ….and don’t try to convince me after 4 books of a tepid nothing that all along it was Elain. Because. I. Don’t. Buy. It.

And my last point (I swear!) why did I get my panties all up in a twist… basically this: a writer makes promises IN THE TEXT, and if what you are saying in interviews directly CONTRADICTS your actual text, then you kinda have a problem. … at that point either you’re a bad writer, or you can’t blindly trust an interview from 7 years ago, it’s outdated!

The great GRRM himself said how often his “gardening style” of writing led to character arcs and romantic pairings changing… so why don’t we start treating Sarah as an adult author, and trust the text, and not an old interview?

It also comes down to trust. You don’t wanna be left feeling like “hmmm this doesn’t feel real, I don’t buy it” it takes you out of the text, and it happens when an author messes up promise-delivery . When an author foreshadows well, and sets up the story with their promises, still manages to surprise us while keeping the promises… well I trust THAT PERSON to tell me the most satisfying story.

#rant post #elriel #bad arguments that make me mad #why I can’t love Elucien even if it isn’t horrible

[unforgivablego]

I don't like how people after Comic Con continue to be unhappy. I mean, Neil gave us literally everything. That is, this is the best that he could provide nine months before the release of the S2. The content could've come out much later, I think around May when the official trailer comes out. But we were just given so much interesting cool information literally a year before the release and people just say that they don't like it.

I a little understand why people felt bad abot Neil because of the S1. Like there was no official confirmation of the relationship of the main characters. It meant that the cherished "I love you" didn't sound. Like, the second Sherlock, queerbaiting, Neil wants to get more audience using homo relationships that are so popular right now. But hey, Neil always said that AziCrow were in love. This was long before gay relationships in movies were the norm.

The book was published over 30 years ago. In the fucking book were so many hints of something between the main characters that I don’t understand why people even get pissed off. You don’t need to run far for an example, let’s take everyone’s favorite: “Just remember I’ll have known that, deep down inside, you were just enough of a bastard to be worth liking,” — which literally sounds like “you are a fool, but I love you / you gave your flaming sword to people and impressed me to the depths of the soul,” or when they hold hands, saying their last words to each other before they die, or “Come up with something or… or I’ll never talk to you again,” after which Crowley just stops damn time, because, of course not talking to an angel is much worse than death. Guys, the rest of the characters in the book think that they are together, people and angels, Shadwell generally calls them a couple of Southern pansies (thanks for correct me). “Many people, meeting Aziraphale for the first time, formed three impressions: that he was English, that he was intelligent, and that he was gayer than a treeful of monkeys on nitrous oxide.” — many also liked this moment. And that's not all there is. And the book was published in the 90s!

In the S1 were many new scenes built mainly on the development of their relationship. There were events that were not in the book at all, which were invented specifically for the series to diversify the concept of their "from enemies to lovers" canon. In the third series Neil gave us excerpts from different time periods, in which AziCrow gradually converge.

The most popular scene in 1941, when Crowley runs into the church to pull the angel out of the hands of the enemies, knowing full well that Aziraphale can do it himself at any moment. BUT NO, he like a real knight, runs to save his princess on the consecrated ground, which burns his legs and, most importantly, saves fucking angelic favorite books. “You are important to me, take the books that I saved at the cost of my own life,” — he doesn't say this, but hey, how obvious is it, especially after the words: “I don’t need you, I have lots of people to fraternize with, Angel,” he said in a fit of anger at the last meeting. He apologizes for 1862 and tries to say that he has no one but an angel. When they, a minute earlier, after so many years of quarreling, start such a stupid conversation about a name change:

“- Anthony?

- You don't like it?

- No, no. I don't say that. I'll get used to it”

Because there's nothing that Aziraphale couldn't get used to in Crowley. Despite the differences, they will always be together, they still have a whole life ahead to discuss it. This short, ridiculous conversation is actually very important. Here Crowley understands that Aziraphale in his: “I’ll get used to it,” — informs (yes, that’s the word) that they will see each other again and more than once, that this quarrel is not an obstacle to their relationship. And then Crowley says, very gently, “Lift home,” as if he knows for sure that the angel is okay with it. The only question is, whose home are you going to, Crowley? Since when do you have one concept of home for two?

The whole mess is completed by a freaking shot in which angel looks at Crowley in such a way that here only a stupid person will not understand what the heck he is thinking about. As the background color changes from gray to pinkish, the music, Crowley heroically leaves the frame and this damned love look after him, that the viewer just sits there thinking: "Oh, look at this blushing bastard — he is so in love." All that's missing is some romantic 40s song that starts off with something along the lines of "And I realized..." Because Aziraphale really realizes in this scene that his feelings are mutual. Somewhere someone wrote that in this scene Aziraphale doesn't fall in love with Crowley and I so much agree with this. In this scene, the angel is already in love, but before that he didn't know if Crowley could feel something in return, and the freaking “I don’t need you,” — in 1862 finished him off. He thought Crowley had someone to hang out with besides him, that Crowley doesn't need him. It hurt him. But Crowley had just walked into the church for only him and saved his books at the cost of his life. This is not a moment of awareness of his love, this is not "the princess fell in love with the prince who saved her from the dragon and they lived happily ever after." This is the moment when Aziraphale realizes that YES — he is loved in return.

And Crowley's “I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go”, in gratitude for holy water, in 1967. Crowley, you're sitting in a car right across from Aziraphale's shop. Where are you gonna take him? You planned to rob a church a stone's throw from the angel's house. “I'll give you a lift, anywhere you want to go”. To where?

Aziraphale also excelled just great: “No thanks. Perhaps one day we could go for a picnic. Dine at the Ritz,” which definitely means, “One day we'll have a date and I'll let you do whatever you want, but not now”.

“You go too fast for me, Crowley,” — that he said in the end, leaves the viewer in a knockout. Because this phrase makes us understand that they have not been talking about friendship all this time. Here it is, the official confirmation of their love. Aziraphale gives him holy water, which means: “Despite everything, you are very important to me, I don't want to lose you, but I trust you”. He's trying to make sure Crowley knows he's loved. And Crowley understands, Crowley is used to speed and he takes the next step, but Aziraphale stops him: “Can you give me some time?”. Aziraphale is not ready, he just got here and hasn't yet got used to it. The phrase: “You go too fast for me,” sounds in most direct meaning — everything is developing too quickly, I can’t keep up with you, could you wait a little more? It finally hits me.

Fucking flirting in a scene in the Bastille during the French Revolution. Yes, then they still didn't have any definite understanding of what was happening, but I think in those years the atmosphere of the 18th century had a special influence. Debauchery, accessibility, openness and lack of shame in people. It seems to me that this was precisely what caused Aziraphale to flirt so openly and intricately. And of course the clothes. It was so seductive.

This is the best scene ever and I won't stop thinking that. What Michael as Aziraphale is doing here — OMG, his game should be banned from showing to kids because it's freaking so obscene it's embarrassing. The way he just lights up when he hears a familiar voice behind him, the way he pronounces his name, so joyfully, as if it weren't Crowley, but the She Goddes herself, who condescended to talking with a mere mortal. Angel, hello, Crowley just said about the cruelty of people, where did you swim, stop your vulgar thoughts and focus. The way Aziraphale scans him from head to toe, the way he sighs languidly, and then the phrase: “Oh... Good Lord,” said with such an expression as if Crowley had suddenly undressed in front of him. The short appraising looks that the angel gives him, as if Crowley is more sweeter than any pancake for which he swam the channel during the revolution (yes, we definitely believe you, Aziraphale) — these are the looks that are called undressing, here it is, in full physical incarnation. And the situation in which the angel allegedly fell. It's just not possible to describe how obvious it is on purpose. He's handcuffed in a local prison that definitely looks like a dragon's castle, waiting to be killed by the guillotine (isn't that romantic already?), dressed in his chicest outfit, even fucking changed his hair — for the first time in 5,000+ years! — and pretends to be very helpless, playing his standard: “I'm an angel”. He can literally snap his fingers and be home. But what does he do? He lets Crowley take care of him, creating a situation similar to rescuing a poor helpless princess from the tower, while portraying such affected and understandable innocence, as if he is not an angel, but a whore maiden who argues before losing her virginity. And why is he doing all this? Why do you think? Because at the end he just invites Crowley to bloody dinner. I fucking love this scene.

"You're my best friend" playing in the background as Crowley tries to find Aziraphale in the burned down bookshop. And the words: “You make me live, whenever this world is cruel to me,” — just aches in the heart. Even though the angel was wrong a thousand times (only because he tried to protect the two of them, sometimes out of stupidity, angelic naivety and a desire to do everything right — yes, they sometimes behave as stupidly, just like people), Crowley still considers him his closest person (?) (creature rather).

A small heart on Aziraphale's contact screensaver on his phone when Crowley can't get through (maybe an accident).

And then when he walks into a burning bookshop and breaks down for the first time in 6 episodes. He's really emotional in this scene. It's so unexpected that it's unnatural to see him like that. His voice is different, he no longer controls the tone and words, for the first time his walk tense, in this scene he cries, which has never happened before. Aziraphale is dead and Crowley feels and expresses as many emotions as he has never felt and expressed in all the 6,000 years that we have been shown. When Fredy goes into post-chorus in the background, I love that part so much. Did anyone even notice that in this scene he literally confesses his love? At the end, Crowley yells “Somebody killed my best friend!” — I can't, it's just heartbreaking.

“It's a big universe. Even if this all ends in a puddle of goo, we can go off together,” — I won't stop crying from now on, my heart shrinks every time (this is one of my favorite scenes, every word really hurts).

“I don't even like you!” — thrown by the angel for no clear purpose: to convince himself of this or to hurt Crowley. And Crowley's “You do!” in response, because, Aziraphale, who are you trying to fool. 6000 years together and you never once thought about to stop communicating. Potential enemies communicate with each other only in two cases: if they are ordered from Above, or if they themselves want it. Remind me when you received a request from the Heavenly Chancellery: "You must get close to the enemy in order to find out his insidious plans." Don't remember? No one remembers, because there was no such thing.

And when Crowley again offers to run away together in a couple of hours — YES! — Alpha Centauri — the best place to wait out the apocalypse, the main thing is not to forget my husband, otherwise he's not at all a person dear to me and in general we had a fight today, I strongly offended, but without him I won’t move a finger in the direction of escape. I'd rather die right here than start saving my carcass without this stupid feathered asshole.

Also don't forget about «holding hands» scene in a bus.

I’m not sure I have much time to end this digging.

And even this is not enough for people? The series not only improves the book and confirms their romantic line, but with the help of the actors and their wonderful performance, creates a masterpiece using gestures, facial expressions and removing innuendo, taking away the opportunity to imagine something left, allowing you to focus on what your eyes see.

Neil said three hundred times that this is a fucking love story. And people just shit in his canon and say: they didn’t say “I love you”, they don’t fuck, what kind of love is that, you're doing everything for popularity. Shut your fucking mouths! Neil is just tired of repeating endlessly that they are an angel and a demon, they are supernatural entities that do not fall within the framework of human relations. Their love is on another level. They are not gay because angels and demons are genderless, which means they have no gender (which also means they can choose their gender at will and change at will, as Crowley did). They are not asexual, because these concepts are invented also for people.

And you know what? Neil just spat in the faces of the fans with a fucking poster of the AziCrow standing in front of a fucking heart made of wings. “Here it is, just choke with this your's canon, here are both main characters against the background of the wrong organ which means love to you, and just try to say that this is not an official confirmation of their relationship.” He crumpled up a piece of shit that prevented him from living and smeared it all over our faces. “Eat,” he says, “I am a local Goddess here and have descended to give you food (for fanfiction). Don’t thank.”

Neil talked about how after the events of the proposed third season, they would move into a fucking cottage in the St. Downs and live together like fucking old husbands. He gave a nod to Crowley's already-acting move to Aziraphale's bookshop at Comic-Con, showing exactly that moment from S2 and no other. In a bloody interview after the panel, he revealed that this season is gonna be "quiet and gentle and romantic" compared to the first and hypothetically third season, and given that the show will have 2 kisses - just choke on fucking tears of happiness. He bombarded Tumblr with answers to leading questions, gave information about when the S2 would be released approximately, leaked new characters, a teaser, part of the plot, a concept photo and people like: we don’t like it. So what is wrong with you, guys? Because I believe that what we have is the best that could be, the best that we could have. And we got it for absolutely nothing.

Yes, golden potato jokes are funny, I wrote a couple myself. And kindly mocking Neil can be fun too, especially when we get the same thing in return. It's a relationship between the author and the fandom, and I really like it. But let's at least sometimes be understanding and patient. I don't like to watch other people's dissatisfaction knowing how much Neil has done for us. So I want you to don't forget about it too. No need to buzz about the teaser and video that we didn't get for Christmas. We all want to please Beelzebub with a tick in front of the task “Annoy Neil every day”, but can we show angelic patience? Neil knows what he's doing. Let's trust him.

#crowley good omens #david tennant #crowley and aziraphale #michael sheen #ineffable idiots #good omens spoilers #neil gaiman #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #good omens season two #good omens tv #good omens theory #good omens ineffable husbands #good omens icons #good omens prime #good omens aziraphale #good omens crowley #good omens show #good omens series #go s2 #they like holding hands #wait and hope #good omens s2 #good omens fandom #good omens headcanons #good omens nycc 2022 panel #good omens book #good omens memes #aziraphale

[reneethekraken]

What a Doll

Being an office rep at the Revision of Hero Society comes with costs, talking to everyone and trying to not make an enemy out of the wrong ones. Somehow this means becoming business partners/ Frenemies/Pining lovers with Backugou and Kirishima. Though, Gangsters, they know everything about their community and these people are still people, and it's your job to help them. Being so young and running for office means being bullied by the older members of the Pro Hero society and eventually being pushed to the company, laying her off and leaving her alone with her thoughts. Shutting everyone out for weeks before finally leaving to party with Mina for a bit and when she sees Bakugou in the bar she dashes leaving her purse and keys on the bar counter. And of course, seeing her he follows her taking her keys with him.

WARNINGS: Angst, emotional, Bakugou doesn't realize how mean he is because Kirishima likes it, Reader is soft asf, Bakugou is definitely still an asshole. Blank blogs and ageless blogs DNI

PAIRING: Bakugou x reader, suggestive kiribaku x reader

WORD COUNT: 1.5k 

A/n: constructive criticism is always appreciated

This is ridiculous. I couldn't think of a sillier way to go home than this one. Walking slower than my thoughts so I can keep up with myself and not throw my eyes over my left shoulder. My feet are sore from the jacked up heels, my blouse is too wet from my urgency to have a good time and my pants are too thin as the wind blows around me on this street. All while my car slowly rides to the left of me.

He's mocking me, he has to be

He mocked my choices trying to tell me that he's already won. I don't know what to say because the thought of speaking to him brings tears to my eyes and my throat gets so tight I want to die.

I’ll never be prepared.

I'll never be able to stand up to them. Even on the days, everyone thinks I have them right where I want them, a board full of pieces that I've already accounted for. They'll never understand that the two of them are the ones who drew up the board. It's greedy, to have someone who shares similar ideas as me yet degrades my every move

“That was a selfish decision. You would have done better writing up your damn think pieces and putting them in a burn book instead of slathering your name all over an unfinished piece that makes you look like a lousy piece of uptown nobility. I don't live here but you all are making a ruckus and it makes me feel bad that I get to sit in my highrise and even look at ya.”

“If I was on the board you would have been put out the commission a long time ago, fixing my city yet telling me how’re gonna take my job, drink my coffee, and fuck my wife all before noon.” 

That's a sick way to live, miss board member, good plan. Even better spokesperson. The Daughter of mass Mutiny comes from the 3rd and last gang in the U.S. and yet she sits here in the Commissioner's office thinkin’ she's better than me. That title doesn't negate that if I wanted you and your bright ideas I'd take I’d still side with the very office that's shooting down every punch you make. And when you're beaten down thinking there's nothing else you could do, I’d give you my hand and let you realize there's nothing ever you'd be able to do in my city without my okay.

“You're lucky he sees something in you otherwise we wouldn't be friends, Doll.” 

Always had that same condescending tone as he called me about whatever decision I publicly made. Most of them were good ones; he was literally just a hater. 

“Did good out there today Doll, real good. Eiji and I are real proud of the progress ya making in sectors 7-9 keep that up and maybe I won’t have to berate ya every other day. Don't get too comfortable though Yakato is speaking wi-”

On the rare days I did get a good call he always managed to put his stamp on it. And sometimes even when he talked down on me I sat there and took it with wet panties and bated breath ready to hear him be soft with me again right before he stamped it.

Friends?!? Friends, I wouldn't even bat an eye if he choked tomorrow! In fact, I would be the first in line!  Until he knew exactly what it felt like to have his entire life's work spit on and shredded because of it being work of public relations community service logs. He's greedy and he won’t have me, because that's all it’ll take for him to win. Presenting me to his partner like a Christmas present. Popping champagne while I sit there naked and waiting for orders like all the other sick fucks that follow behind them as they need them.

I don't need them. But I do need him to get the hell out of my car. Maybe that's why I put my pride aside, I tried not to let my tears show and my anger release through my words.

Teeth clenching and eyes lowered into the passenger window, “What do you want Bakugou, why the hell are you following me late at night? You know stalking is a crime, correct?”

“It is if there's proof and your life is endangered. It could be from someone else looking to have a lucky night with a lady walking on the side of the road at 2 am looking like a call girl.” He smiled, put the car in park, and opened his door slowly. Standing over the side of the vehicle like he wanted more, needed it. “Nobodies seen ya in 3 weeks. We all thought that Having to step down from the board made ya yoke. I was hoping it had not.” He said the last part softer but that boyish grin never left.

“ It’s temporary.”

“What?”

“My decision to step down from the board is temporary and if it runs till November I’ll resign and apply again.” I was closer now to the passenger side. I wanted to show him that he didn't own me and that he didn't scare me.

“Always the fighter. Did you not have time to come see us before ya left?”

“I came because Mina said I could have a good time, I left because I was ready to go.” He sucked his teeth hearing my quick retort.

“You're hurting my feelings, thought we were friends?” He slowly rounded the car, stopping in front of the hood to play with the radiator grill.

“YOU and Kirishima are not my friends, were business partners who come together to correct hero society on blue moons-

“Then I’d say we've had more blue moons than the smurfs”

“I'm trying to be serious and professional and you're making it hard for me.”He was in front of me now and I couldn't help but look past his neck. I wasn't strong. I let the media get the best of me and the hero community. I let Bakugou and Kirishima’s backhanded compliments and weird pinning throw me off my game and accept my resignation, no temporary relief of position. He was too close, his collared button down hiding the swirly black ink of his gang insignia. The ring holder chain held a ring with opal on it. I wondered what my ring would look like next to Kirishima's

 “I don't need you rubbing my failures- I lost and because of me the city and its people will be without someone advocating for them, all of them. Someone who cares about them. WHO WANT THE BEST FOR EVERYONE EVEN IF IT MEANS DISMANTLING THE VERY SAME SYSTEM THAT KEEPS THEM SAFE BECAUSE IT ALSO KEEPS OTHERS IN SITUATIONS THAT LEAVE THEM WITHOUT.

The Tears fell and I was finally looking at him. He wasn't smiling anymore. I pushed his chest, again and again, and again. “And you were nowhere to be found, NEITHER OF YOU AND I

 CALLED AND PLEADED AND CALLED AGAIN AND MY SO-CALLED FRIENDS WERE NOWHERE TO BE FOUND.”

He grabbed my arms and pinned them to my side as I cried, into his shirt, into his skin, holding onto the very fabric that held the man that I swear I hated “I know and I’m sorry. Some things were more important at that moment–”

With a croaky voice and a tighter grip, I asked what I always wanted, always needed, needed to know from him.“Am I not enough? Am I not important enough to come to the rescue? Are my problems not satisfactory on your list of important shit that needs to be tended to. What about my feelings?” He hugged me tight and sighed into my hair. “ You won ya know.”

“I didn't wanna win, I wanted to make you work hard, I promise I just wanted to prepare you for what was out there. If I coulda I woulda been on the first flight back to help but I couldn't and were sorry, Doll. Eiji is waiting for us at the house. You want me to drop you home or do you want to stay the night at ours because I swear–”

“I wanna see him too, I’m tired of this runaround. Are we friends, are we enemies, our business partners on the occasion when both sides of the coin retire us to some janky place to drink scotch? Are we pining after each other? I Don't know what we are or how we're gonna make,” I point to the space in between us, “work but I’d like to see where it goes just lessen up all that damn bark. I’m sensitive.”

He pecked the top of my head and opened the passenger door for me. Jogging over to the other side. He threw on some random radio station and put the car in drive.

 “Okay.” 

Please please reblog if you like it so I can get feedback, and find things others like to read so I produce more content! 🥰

#bakukiri x reader #kiribaku x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #Reneewrites:p

[deafmangoes]

Netflix's take on The Last Airbender is pretty good, actually.

Right, well, after having a good cry about shit this morning, I'm going to pen some thoughts about the new A:TLA.

T'other day I described it as just "okay" after watching the first two episodes. Today I finished up through episode four and actually, I've changed my mind. It's good. You hear me? It's good.

Episode one dragged a bit, but with episode two I could see why they were making certain changes (and actually, I preferred the Suki and Sokka interactions in this version). Will probably write about them later.

Episodes three and four are set in Omashu and adapt elements of the Book One episodes "The Northern Air Temple", "The King of Omashu", "Jet" and the Book Two episode "The Cave of Two Lovers", with a few additional plot points taken from Book Two with regards to Azula, Zuko and Iroh's storylines.

These two episodes are really good. Gonna put spoilers below here just in case, but I'll put my conclusion here so you can skip the rest:

If you were on the fence about this adaptation, like I was, then I think this pair of episodes really show you what it's about. This is the story without the cartoon veneer. It's confronting just what a century of protracted warfare does to people, and treating their trauma seriously. Yes, it has lost a lot of the original comedy, but it's not completely without heart (we still get the Cabbage Merchant, he's still great).

Give it a go. If you're like me, and you grew up with this cartoon, then take a deep breath and remember that you're older too. Let the story age with you, and bring you back into the world for a more mature take at it. It doesn't need to replace the original, it's just another adaptation. Enjoy both of them.

First let's talk about the changes: instead of showing up at the Northern Air Temple, the Mechanist (now given the name Sai) and Teo are citizens of Omashu. Jet and his gang are also introduced early, still as resistance fighters. Zuko and Iroh turn up to Omashu in person, instead of being largely absent during the trio's visit.

Unlike in the original show, Aang wasn't planning on visiting Omashu until he saw Teo flying in his glider and mistook him for a surviving Airbender. This starts the episode, and we're introduced to this version of him and his father. I appreciated that they kept the important elements of both characters even after removing them from their original context (as squatters in the Northern Air Temple), and tied them neatly into Omashu's technology advances.

Sai the Mechanist is turned into an active collaborator, out of fear for his son's safety. Jet's black and white morality is dialled up when it's revealed he's been behind the bombing campaign in Omashu. King Bumi retains a lot of his original character but they really, really drive home how much a century of war and compromise has eaten away at the young child Aang remembers, and his bitterness is entirely justified.

I could gush about this for a while, but trying to keep it short: all the changes made to this pair of episodes work. Nothing felt out of place, everything meshed together into a well-woven, well-written story that gave a real gut punch of emotion during Aang and Bumi's confrontation. I also really liked that instead of Aang and Katara in the tunnels, it's her and Sokka - they get to have the argument that's been brewing for a while, and it helped ground that they're still just kids. They've been thrust into a conflict that they're not prepared for. Jet's portion took the themes of his original episode and ratcheted them up, showing how the trauma of being raised in war can seriously mess with your worldview, and that if you're not careful you can begin to perceive everyone as the enemy.

If I was on the fence about this adaptation before, these two episodes have fully convinced me of it.

#netflix avatar #netflix atla #atla live action #avatar live action #avatar netflix #atla netflix

[emsuemsu]

@hprecfest day 24: holiday fic

I didn’t prep anything for the 22nd and 23rd and I've been sick and still am, so I just skipped those but…

A few words in advance for todays recs. My dumbass brain really fucking thought holiday as in GOING ON A HOLIDAY. As in GOING ON A VACATION. I really had zero thoughts running through my mind regarding this. I thought of re-doing this but man... I'm tired. And the weather truly is frightful here, so I was really happy with the summery vibes going on with these recs. So here you go, couple of my fav vacay fics on Christmas eve 🌚

The Coefficient of Friction by @13pawns 🩵 18,080 words, draco/harry

The war is over, the Death Eater trials are complete, life in the wizarding world is finally getting back to normal, and Harry Potter is restless. Unsure of what he really wants and growing increasingly confused in his personal life, Harry decides to take a holiday—alone—to clear his mind and find himself. He books a trip to a wizarding resort, expecting to be the lone guest, only to find out Draco Malfoy will be there as well. Falling back on old habits, Harry determines Malfoy must be up to something. In his search to uncover Malfoy’s secrets, Harry inadvertently does what he had meant to all along—find himself.

This is such a perfect example of "Harry Potter thinks Draco Malfoy is up to something". He's such a fucking creep honestly. I had such a fun time reading this story, the second-hand embarrassment is real. The Greek beach vibes are vibing hard. I love me a little self-discovery while on a vacation, all my personal milestones of self-discovery I’ve achieved on a holiday.

Starkissed by @zigster-ao3 🩵 32,631 words, draco/harry

“Your tattoos!” The intruder says, boldly stepping over Ron’s chaise and crossing in front of Hermione to get to Harry, eyes wide and hungry. Harry immediately sits up, pulling the towel draped across the back of his chair down over his shoulders.  “No! Don’t cover them. They’re beautiful.” . Harry hopes an indulgent trip abroad will help shake him out of the doldrums of his life. What he finds once he gets to Venice is more than he ever expected.

This fic and this art lives in my head rent free for all of eternities. I could read 500k of this universe, the fatis atramento is such a clever and intriguing thing to come up with. And who doesn't love the Italian summer? I absolutely adore everything in this story, the OC's are magnificent, such a beautiful, sexy read.

Terrible People by @wolfpants & art by @getawayfox 🩵 52,801 words, draco/harry

What happens when Harry and Draco end up on the same Muggle gay cruise? They certainly didn't plan for it to happen (but their friends might have). They're stuck with each other for a week, they might as well make the most of it, right? Featuring a holiday-long game of Truth or Dare, a very ill-judged FWB proposition, decades-long pining, lots of gin, and a small pair of green swimming trunks.

There's nothing I love more than enemies to fwb to lovers-trope when talking about Drarry. It is the ultimate best thing in the whole wide world. This fic had me delirious and left me spiraling. It's incredibly warm and funny and steamy and hot and everything I need in the debts of winter and more. I am a slut for slutty Harry here. I swear I got a tan just from reading this story, the mediterranean vibes are so spot on. I'm booking a one-way ticket down there as we speak. The gorgeous art has me absolutely floored, merry fucking christmas to me 😌

#yes sir im really this fucking stupid #hprecfest2023 #drarry #drarry fic rec #my rec

[jilyarchive]

OCTOBER AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: MISSGRYFFIN

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @missgryffin​, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: Intense, sexy, snappy, and fast-paced. I have a rampant imagination and love a good sexual tension build-up, so my fics usually include a lot of plot, drama, and (of course) smut.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: It’s such a grab-bag. A pretty substantial number of my fics have originated from prompts, actually! I also draw a lot on TV shows/movies I’ve seen, novels I’ve read, tropes I see that I’m inspired to try, etc. Also, I find that a lot of my ideas actually form while I’m writing. I’ll go in with a sense of direction, but it’s not until I’m writing and really in the thick of it that the details take shape, and then new ideas begin to spout off from there, based on what I learn about what the characters and story need.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: Technically, during the two-year wait between the releases of books 5 and 6, because I was utterly HP obsessed, my imagination was in overdrive thinking about what could happen in the final two books, and I had discovered MuggleNet fanfiction / FFN by that point, so I’d been devouring all of that early era of HP fanfic. I actually have a giant binder of my own fanfic writing from that period; I would type up stories in Word, format them with fun fonts and fan art covers I found online, and print them out for myself. (Which, I still do this!) Fun fact: there’s even a Marauders story in there that I had completely forgotten about that has a striking resemblance to the bones of Eternal Summer. It genuinely freaked me out a little when I found it, ha! 

 But even though I wrote creatively through most of my childhood/school phases of life, I had taken a pretty substantial break in early adulthood and didn’t “return” to writing until the pandemic in 2020. Life was bizarre, Netflix had gotten boring, and I was craving a creative outlet or hobby that could make lockdown bearable. I randomly stumbled my way back to fanfic / fandom, and here we are!

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Buckle up! 🎢 Also, I hope you are either i) at home, or ii) have a really great NSFW poker face 😅 But to give a more serious answer, I’d say that I write a wide range of tones, and I really lean in to what that tone is. If a fic is tagged for fluff and crack, it will be so adorably sweet and cringe-funny that your face will hurt from smiling. If a fic is tagged for angst and darker themes, it will feel like a knife to the gut. (If it’s tagged for all of the above—cough Eternal Summer cough—you’re at the front of a line for a wild rollercoaster, my friend!) Since I write both extremes, I’m never offended when readers skip fics or prefer one “genre” to another. But please know that Jily is always endgame in all of my stories—that’s the whole reason why we’re here 💗

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Enemies to lovers is my #1, even if it’s more of that “enemies-ish” rivalry at the beginning. There’s just nothing more quintessentially Jily to me than the process of them discovering more layers to the other person and slowly realizing that the other person is so much more than the antagonist they’d built up in their head. (And that they -gasp- actually…like them! Worse, they like them like them! A lot!) Gets me every time. 

Other favorites include There Was Only One Bed, Hurt/Comfort, and Forced Proximity/Stuck/Trapped. 

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: That we celebrate how much of a power couple Jily is. I’m going to quote @jilyss’ answer for this because it’s so true: we understand James has an arrogant streak but grew up, we celebrate Lily for the intelligent, strong, cool, bamf woman she is, and we appreciate how they’re true, complementary equals finding real, raw love with one another. (And also all the wonderful reader and fellow-writer friends I’ve made! 😘)

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: My man JP. From only the few hints we get about him in the books, we know he’s such a dynamic person, and I really love bringing him to life. Also, his growth/redemption story deserved more air-time, so I’m glad fanfic is here to fill that gap.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

Eternal Summer – My first born! Even though it’s far from being finished and needs a lot of work, I’m really proud of the world-building I’ve done thus far. 

Vindicated – This was thrilling for me to write because it’s a total departure from what I’d previously written: second chances, canon-divergent AU, American settings, original characters, more adult relationship, etc. I have more planned for this universe and I’m really excited for it. 

for the hope of it all – My latest completed fic. I challenged myself to write a softer, friends-to-lovers, mutually pining kind of summer fic, and this came together in a flood. But what makes me proud is that with this fic, I could really see how much my writing has evolved and improved from those early ES days. 

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A:

Of Chrysalism by @maraudersftw​ – It’s only a short one-shot, but the way this fic haunts me!! Exquisite. 

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl​ – Lauren is the Nancy Meyers of Jily, and this fic is the epitome of that. A total comfort fic for me; I want it to be a movie that I can play in my living room over and over again until I know it by heart. 

Eighteen Again by @scriibble-fics​ – If I didn’t know scriibble was getting her PhD in History, I’d think she was a screenwriter. The world-building in this fic is like no other—I’m in a constant state of chills when I read it. The emotional depth, the heartbreak, the romance, the political intrigue…it’s one of those fics that never leaves you.

Thank you @missgryffin​ for letting us ‘interview’ you and for sharing your fics with us! ❤️

#october author spotlight #author spotlight #thank you!! #its requested author month #next will be another random selection :)

[saratinz]

Maneater (Chapter 8)

pairing ➩ Ex!Bucky Barnes x Promiscuous!Reader (College AU)

series warnings ➩ drinking, asshole!Bucky, enemies to lovers, exes to lovers, love triangle, smut, slut shaming, cursing

chapter warnings ➩ cursing, slut shaming, mentions sex, reader is roofied (nothing bad happens)

synopsis ➩ Y/n goes to the hospital.

word count ➩ 1k

Peter stays silent for a while, digesting everything you just told him. “Hey, you wanna go to a party.”

“You really want to go after what happened last night.”

“I mean, yeah. We spent all this time talking about me, it’s time to do something for you.”

“Well, sure.” The two of you hung out for hours, becoming the most unlikely of friends. You went more in depth about what has unfolded in the last week, and he told you about his crush on a girl named MJ.

“Hey, we should call ourselves ‘the freshie and the whore’. And there should be a book written about us.”

“I don’t love that name, Y/n.”

“It’s okay, we can workshop it.” The two of you have now gotten to the party. 

“Hey Y/n.” It’s the third to last person you want to see, besides Bucky and Steve.

“Hi, Jane.” You say, trying to dial back the awkwardness.

“I just wanted to say that, I forgive you. We all make mistakes, and even though you made a really big one, I can’t hold that against you forever. So here’s a peace offering.” She hands you a drink. You look for Peter, but when you don’t see him, you figure he ran off to avoid this strange interaction. You take a sip.

“Okay, thank you for understanding, I know what I did was super shitty. And I know it was really hard for you, so I really appreciate this.” You take another sip. Not wanting to ruin this, you walk away, quickly downing the whole drink to deal with whatever the fuck just happened. 

You start to feel super dizzy, but there’s no way you could be drunk. Your brain feels like it’s on fire, despite the fact that you are getting really cold. Your thoughts moving so fast that you are never able to retain a single thought for more than a couple of seconds. Oh shit. You were drugged. Jane roofied you.

You are desperately trying to find someone, anyone, who you knew would never take advantage of you. That’s when you spot him. Bucky is standing alone in a corner, with a drink in hand. You stumble over to him, hoping to get there before you inevitably pass out. “Bucky!” You flash a dopey smile.

“Hey sweetheart, you alright?” You wrap your arms around his neck

“Nope.” He looks concerned.

“What’s wrong?”

“I was drugged.” You slur your words.

“Wait, what?”

You giggle. “Yeah I need to go hospital.”

“Shit!” He groans as you faint in his arms. He hurriedly picks you up bridal style, and walks with you all the way to his car. He doesn’t care that he’s speeding because you are the most important thing right now. When you get to the hospital, he stays by your side every step of the way. He doesn’t know who you want to wake up to, he just knows it’s not him. He calls Steve, figuring he’s one step above the guy who broke you, twice.

“Steve, hey, Y/n’s in the hospital.”

“What’s wrong?”

“She was roofied, but I don’t want her to wake up to find the guy she hates is the only one with her. Please come.”

“Are you dumb? She hates me too.”

“No Steve, she thinks you’re an asshole, but she has real feelings for you. And it would be really nice if you were here for her. Don’t you want a chance to be with her again?”

“Fine, I’m coming.”

“Alright I’ll text you the room number. Bye.”

“See you soon.” He hangs up

“Mmmmm.” You groan. 

“Hey, doll, you awake?” 

“Can you hold me?” 

“Sure.” He stands up from his chair to take his shoes off. Scooting you a little bit to the left, he gets in bed with you. You hum as his arms envelope you in their warmth.

“Mmmm, Bucky.” He melts at the use of his nickname. When you fall asleep again, he carefully removes himself from the cramped twin bed. It takes 30 minutes for Steve to get to the hospital, and that makes Bucky furious. 

“What the fuck took you so long?”

“I had to do some shit, okay?” That is not the answer Bucky was going for, and he smells alcohol on the blonde’s breath, but he drops it. “Why do you care so much about her anyway? She’s never gonna do anything else for you.”

“Shut the fuck up, you asshole. She’s a good girl.”

“Yeah, in bed.”

“You came to have a chance with her, right?”

“Maybe to sleep with her again.” He shrugs.

“You remember I dated her, right? She cares. You’d be lucky to be with her.”

“What? Are you in love with her or something?”

“No!” He startles you awake

“Bucky?” You ask, still out of it. He gestures at Steve to take over.

“It’s Steve, actually.”

“Oh, hi Steve.” You give him a slight smile, your eyes still closed.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, y’know what sucks though?”

“What’s that?”

“When the person you love hates you.”

“I don’t hate you, Y/n.”

“I wasn’t talking about you.” The room falls silent. “Can you get Bucky?”

“You love Bucky?”

“Shhh, don’t tell him.”

“She’s all yours, Buck. I’m done with her bullshit. Waste of my fucking time.” He storms out.

“It’s okay honey, I’m right here. He’s just tired.”

“Okay. Wait did you hear all that?”

“Umm, yeah.”

“Whoops.”

“Do you need anything?”

“Just, I have one question.”

“What is it, doll?”

“That night we had sex, you convinced me Steve was this great thing I was just throwing away for nothing, but you knew he was using me. I guess I've just been wonder why you said those things.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you, I just knew I needed to stop you from seeing him. So I tried to scare you away, and I know how bad that sounds. I just, I couldn’t break your heart again.” His eyes well up, and he grabs your hand. “But I will never lie to you again, I promise.”

“Pinky swear?” He lets out an adorable laugh.

“Yes, hun, I pinky swear.”

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taglist:

@cjand10, @afraidofshrimp

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve x reader #college au #enemies to lovers #exes to lovers #love triangle #angst #bucky barnes smut #steve rogers smut

[acephysicskarkat]

Hello, saw some of your anti c//a that mention how you think c//a is a bad enemies-to-lovers ship while griddlehark is a good one, and may i ask how that is? Genuine question, because i don’t like c//a, and i’m neutral on griddlehark (mainly because I don’t know much atm), from what i’ve seen/heard, it seems like it’s a lot more toxic of a dynamic than c//a is initially/pre canon? Again not trying to bait, am gen curious /genuine

This is going to be kind of disjointed, and I apologise, but this is kind of a topic that defies a simple summary.

Bear in mind that ahead be big Locked Tomb spoilers and the SP0P spoilers that basically everyone already knows.

I would say that the two critical differences are 1) the handling of the toxicity within the narrative, and 2) the structure and arrangement of the toxicity.

You are absolutely correct that pre-canon Griddlehark's mutual hatred is a toxic dynamic. They initially detest each other with a passion; one of the main plot points driving the entire series is a young Harrow having Gideon's blood under her nails after a fight.

As Gideon and Harrowhark work together, however - and here is the point where 100% of bad enemies-to-lovers arcs crash and burn - the toxicity goes down. It never becomes totally healthy - indeed, post-GtN Harrow invents an entirely new way to have an unhealthy relationship, involving performing brain surgery on herself at 17 - but the majority of the narrative is spent showing them moving from "would piss on the other's grave given the chance" to a mutually tolerated working relationship, to a growing loyalty, to the pool scene where Harrow shows Gideon more honesty and trust than she's had from anyone in her life. A lot of what makes this work is pacing and structure; every new step works because it's building on the previous ones, none of them feeling jarringly fast or unmotivated.

More than that, a big help is that the toxicity feels intentional. The relationship being Kinda Fucked is a 100% intentional thing that I'm pretty sure I've seen Tamsyn Muir talking about in interviews. It's a narrative element that Muir is monitoring and adjusting with the care of a good zookeeper trying to keep the humidity in the reptile enclosure exactly right.

(I genuinely cannot praise the writing in these books enough.)

Turning to SP0P as a contrast, its relationship has a more understated toxicity, but a much more pervasive one. Young Adora and C*tra weren't clawing at each other's faces whenever left unsupervised, but young C*tra sure did claw at Adora's face for wanting to have more than one friend! It's not the PVP arena of Growing Up Griddlehark, but "you are my friend, therefore your needs are subordinate to mine" is still far from a healthy dynamic, and the narrative never addresses it.

The bigger problem, though, is that the toxicity doesn't so much "go down" as trace out a parabola. The entire first half of the narrative shows the toxicity going up sharply, to the point of C*tra being willing to die just to make Adora miserable, then it hovers there for another quarter, and then it returns to an earlier level of toxicity. S5 C*tra's treatment of Adora stays awful. She spends "Taking Control" throwing a tantrum over how the real problem is Adora and the others being mad at her; she portrays herself as the wounded party in her like four separate murder attempts on Adora in "An Ill Wind" to produce the worst line of the show; she continues throwing tantrums whenever she doesn't get what she wants and making everything about herself right up to the love confession, including that confession ("stay with me, the person who spent four seasons refusing to stay with you!"). It feels bizarre that Adora goes from "even if you're my best friend, I won't let you blame me for shit that isn't my fault" in S4 to doing nothing but looking sad when C*tra portrays her as being in the wrong for not just meekly standing by while C*tra burned down her home and murdered her friends.

And - and I'll acknowledge that a big part of this is probably executive fuckery, I just don't think that really matters - the pacing and structure absolutely are not helping. I could buy S5's sudden reversal if C*tra and Adora had had a fun, weightless enmity where there was an obvious respect between them. They don't. C*tra spends a truly distressing amount of time utterly consumed by the desire to cause Adora as much pain as possible, to the point of attempting a murder-suicide on the entire world. No point in S2-S4 shows a C*tra who Can't Bring Herself to Really Hurt Adora, regardless of the things the stans have convinced themselves they saw; she's so totally driven by spite that she tears her own life to shreds in the hope Adora will be caught up in the edges. The relationship has to do a sudden R*ylo swerve rather than building on what's gone before because "what's gone before" is like three plot points in the first season that have been narratively overwhelmed by C*tra's multiseason campaign of cruelty like a single pea being weighed against the USS Nimitz.

This is where intentionality comes into play. The toxicity in c/a is just there. For all the bullshit about C*tra's story being about what happens when you're the toxic friend, it doesn't feel like an intentional narrative element that is seriously being examined; it feels like a writing fuck-up where C*tra was supposed to feel like way less of a stalker asshole.

Anyway, I hope this has made some vague semblance of sense, but I've been at this for like an hour and I'm tired and I need to go check on a craft project.

#spopcrit #locked tomb spoilers

[piedoesnotequalpi]

🍉🍒🍊🥝🥭 for the fruit asks!

So many! Thank you :) Also I've never heard the turn of phrase cheese grater memory before but I think it's very funny

🍉 (Do you prefer to write short fics or long fics? Multichaptered works or single ones? Why?):

So, funny story: before I got the idea for Not till a hot January, which turned out to be ~25k words, I didn't think I was really capable of writing long things in general, and my writing strengths mostly lay (I just had to google the correct form for that) in short comedy pieces that made my love of Terry Pratchett books incredibly obvious (I'm still proud of those pieces, and might post them here someday!) as well as the occasional very gay short story.

All this to say, short fics are definitely a lot less stressful--I don't need to plan as much, I can write in a way that's closer to the comedic style I used to use more, and I will probably not question my ability to finish. But with long fics, it's really fun to build towards stuff over several chapters, and it's very satisfying to be like wow I wrote all that. So I'm not really sure which one I like better!

🍒 (What's your favorite character dynamic to write?):

I think I've given Spot and Race the most interesting (but wildly different) dynamics across everything I've written, so they've been really fun to write. I also like writing group dynamics, partially because the result is usually entertaining and partially because it's easier to move the conversation forward when there's more than two people.

🍊 (Who's a character you don't write for that often, but keep meaning to write for more?):

Crutchie's role in HIWB actually came in part from me realizing I hadn't incorporated him nearly enough into the other big AU I wrote! But now I think I should write more about Specs, because he's a fun guy but definitely a bit more in the background of HIWB.

🥝 (What's your favorite trope/AO3 tag to write?):

Enemies to lovers and Only One Bed/bedsharing in general have been the most fun, I think. This might be a little outside the scope of the question, but I absolutely love writing anything that has dramatic irony involved.

🍍 (What kind of AUs do you like? Are there any AUs you hate or just generally have beef with?):

I've read so many different types of AUs; I haven't written nearly as many. I tend to like writing things that give me a chance to use some of the random knowledge I've picked up over the years, because it makes the world/activities feel more real (and I'm not great at worldbuilding) and also because a major pet peeve of mine is when people butcher, say, rock climbing in a piece of media (I have a grudge against the movie Princess Diaries for this reason). Nothing I've written really falls into this category, but AUs where the authors ask weird, going-down-the-rabbit-hole questions about a common trope or variety of AU are really fun (I've seen this with soulmate AUs a few times, for example).

As for AUs I hate...well, the main thing that comes to mind is the omegaverse. I'm also not a big fan of student/teacher or anything with a similarly uneven power dynamic, but I haven't encountered that as much.

#i still have such a headache (yes even though sleeping should've helped it go away) but this was a nice distraction #thanks for sending these in! #alex! #asks #ask game #isabel.tex #my writing

[tonberry-yoda]

Hi Berry it been a minute since i last sent you something. I been really busy lately haha. How are you? Is everything going well? I have a small secret to tell you hehe

recently I kinda... have a small crush on a coworker... he's super smart and charming and really fun to talk to... i let him know i'm interested in him and he told me he's not interested in me but i'm hopeless so i'll just keep bathing in this unrequited crush and listen to love songs 🥲 and it's one of those night where i'm deep in my feeling and... god... i just... i just want to be in love so badly...

i've been in love before and got hurt badly from it, and I'm perfectly okay with being single, love it even. But still, I want to be in love... the mundane type of love, the soft type of love, then laundry and taxes type of love, the looking at the stars type of love, the shy hand holding type of love, the quiet type of love, the "hearing it in the silent of the night" type of love, the "i'm here" type of love... i want it 😭 I played it off to everyone around me and be all nonchalant about romance and this crush I have on this guy like "oh it's just for fun, nothing serious" but 😭i'm not falling... i'm sinking at this point lol. I'm a hopeless romantic that's scared of showing that i'm a hopeless romantic 🥲 i gues all of this rambling is to say... i want to be in love with this person, but i know I shouldn't because it's unrequited, and I'm also scared. But 😭

Idk who to tell cuz my friends all will shake their heads and disapprove so here's my lil secret to the internet 🤪

Have you ever fallen in love? What type of love do you want? Tell me about your vision of love

-🍓

strawberry anon, please tell me you're a writer

this is beautiful

i appreciate that secret being told to me and I understand how you feel

edit: hey, this is tonberry after writing this. underneath is a long ass ESSAY about this subject! you can keep reading under the cut if youre interested. this is what tonberry's writing sounds like outside of fanfic lol

as for me (we're about to get some real writing from Tonberry and not the fanfic kind lol) I have never been in love. I've always been the second choice. I've always been the girl who "dresses like that, so it's not my fault I think of you this way." Over the years, I have been objectified.

But I am not desperate.

Yes, I am a hopeless romantic who writes fanfic and romance novels. I read books and watch media that makes me sigh and go, "I wish that were me." I want more than anything to go bowling with him, to watch the stars with him, but most importantly to laugh with him, and cuddle him when he needs it.

I need someone who loves me as much as I love him. I have so much love in this heart of mine that I am willing to share, but I need it to be the right one. I can't settle for a man who asks to see me naked right off the bat. I can't settle for a man who claims he has an "internet addiction" and asks me to fix it. I know my worth and I am thankful to have a mother who taught me that very young.

I want the kind of love that's domestic. One of my absolute dream men is Peter B. Parker from Spiderverse because when I write fanfic for him, it's at home and it's comfortable. I want that kind of man. I need the Simon Petrikov to my Betty Grof. I want someone who laughs at my jokes. I want someone to love me the silly way that I am. I want someone smart.

I like this guy that I met through my brother. He is sweet, funny, and unbelievably smart. I met him just weeks ago. We went out for lunch together.

Am I delusional to think that we might start dating? Or am I being oblivious when I think nothing is going to come out of this?

I have never dated before. I knew my worth in high school and above all, I know who I am and what I want in uni.

So, strawberry anon, I know exactly how you feel. Loving as a woman is something else. We fall in love so hard. I mean have you read romance novels or enemies to lovers stuff written by women?!?! We are creatures of love and self worth. When we fall in love, we want what's out of the movies, and I think that's okay to expect.

I think what you're feeling for this boy is great, but if he doesn't give it back, there might be someone out there willing to love you the way you want to be loved.

You are allowed to settle for things you like.

And you sound like you're doing great with your self worth! You know you like being single, as do I. But let's be fr, when the snow starts to fall, nothing is better than to imagine someone we like cuddling us while we sleep. <3

Sorry for the long rant, but this is the type of poetry and shit I write lmao. For any other hopeless romantic out there, me too, girl, me too. Write fanfic, it's cozy <3

#tonberry answers #asks #anon #strawberry anon #🍓 anon