#so its like what did they have to lose about acknowledging one more thing that made them different

[kooktrash]

UKIYO ✧ jeon Jungkook

summary: it’s the start of summer and there’s nothing better than dipping your toes in the sand and falling for a local boy who plays beach volleyball in his free time. he’s charming in a way you’ve never seen and you seem to understand each other better than one could imagine. both stuck in an awkward time of self discovery, you try to live in the moment and forget about your worries till they become too hard to ignore.

The Japanese word ukiyo (pronounced "u-key-yo") means "living in the moment" or "detached from the troubles of life".

✧ genre/au: summer romance, local beach boy!jk x city girl!y/n, [she/her, afab]

✧ 17.7k words

warnings: smut, fluff, ‘coming of age’ but they’re in their twenties, jk falls first. oral [f receiving]. unprotected bc they’re literally on a boat. hair pulling. jk is kinda rich boy. oc seems mean but she’s got mean vibes but just sassy and jk likes it. jk was previously engaged. law student jk. intimate missionary. jk is a volleyball player. think beach town vibes. his ex is kinda stuck up—all his friends are. jk is kinda lovesick puppy who needs aftercare lol

inspired by, Nicholas Sparks’ “The Last Song”

songs: tyrant — coldplay, mind over matter — young the giant, left hands free — alt-j, omg — suki waterhouse, sex drug etc — beach weather

✧

For a long time, summer was the only thing to look forward to in the year. The days were longer spent outside enjoying time with your friends and letting yourself sleep in until noon. As you grew older with more responsibilities that didn’t suddenly disappear when the temperature grew warmer, you began to lose feelings for the season. It made no difference in your life anymore and you longed for the days it would.

Maybe that’s why it was so easy for you to drop everything and leave your worries behind. A couple months in the sun, no stress, nothing holding you back.

”I still can’t believe I managed to convince you,” Your friend said for the third time in the last hour. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, again, “I still can’t believe it either, don’t make me regret it.”

Hoseok mocked you using a high pitched voice, turning the Jeep Wrangler into the driveway of a modern beach house, “How could you regret these next few weeks waking up to the waves crashing on the shore?”

”What magazine did you read that off of?” Your friend asked from the backseat, laughing to herself at his expense, “I hate when you talk corny.”

”Whatever, you guys are so ungrateful,” Hoseok jokes, pulling the car in ‘park’ and powering the engine off, “Next time I’ll invite someone else to come with—someone who I won't have to beg!”

”Boohoo,” You pretended to whine, getting out of the car and racing to get to your luggage first, “You love begging for me.”

”You wish,” He says with a scoff, “Hurry up and find your rooms, I want to get down to the beach as soon as possible.”

The beach was at its peak time of day where the sun sat the highest and almost every foot of sand was covered with people’s belongings. Not far from shore were rows of volleyball courts and crowds of people watching and as much as you wanted to avoid that busy side, it was the way to the boardwalk. You had no choice but to follow your friends in that direction. They were steps before you, already arguing about which store to go into first or what food stand you’ll go to but you were distracted by the large Ferris wheel in the back.

Maybe your focus should have been on the matches happening all around you but by the time you realized that it was too late. The white ball barely grazed your side when a tall figure headed straight into you with a loud thud.

A low grunt left your lips as you hit the sand with such a force that it physically ached for a moment. Your hands and face were practically covered in sand it was hard to acknowledge whatever gibberish your assailant spat out.

He didn’t have time to get a good look at you as he rushed to his feet, taking your arm and pulling you up abruptly, “Shit, I’m so sorry, I—“

“It’s fine,” your tone came out harsher than expected and it probably had something to do with the guy who loomed over you, and how embarrassed you felt. Up ahead your two friends were barely realizing you weren’t behind them and turning to find you, laughing once they did.

The stranger let his gaze trace over you with sudden curiosity, not at all intimidated by your attempt at a scowl. Now that he was looking at you up close, he had to admit he liked what he saw. He couldn’t help but grin nervously, “I’m sorry.”

His smile made you glare as you dusted sand off your jeans, “Really? I can’t tell.”

“I… it’s just, usually when there’s a ball flying people tend to dodge it,” he was walking backwards now as you tried leaving, he wanted to face you when he talked and it made his cocky smile all the more unbearable. You’ve just met the guy and he hadn’t given the best impression yet. Honestly, you’re just tired from the trip and you’re hungry so you blame that on your mood but you just want to escape this embarrassment of falling.

A scoff left your lips, “Are you saying that this is my fault? Maybe if you all played the game on the court, you wouldn’t have run after it.”

You were giving him attitude and yet he didn’t back down from returning it with a sweet smile.

“Jungkook!” Someone called from behind but the guy didn’t bother to even look back at the paused game. Instead he kept up with you, “You’re right, it’s partially my fault too so how can I make this up to you?”

You stopped walking, looking at him. You didn’t know him and he didn’t know you so there was no need to hold him up from his game any longer, “Don’t worry about it.”

“But I can’t go on like this,” The stranger, Jungkook, said, “Not until I know you’re not mad anymore.”

The way you rolled your eyes excited him in a good way. He wasn’t amusing enough for you and it was rare for him not to be.

“Jungkook! Come on man, the game!”

“Y/n!” Hoseok said loudly, “Hurry up, I’m starving.”

Just like that, the two of you walked away from each other and you had to tell yourself not to look back at him. You didn’t want to catch him doing the same before he went back to playing.

“Are you okay?” Hyeri asked, still laughing lightly, helping you shake off sand, “I was going to help you but then I saw you talking to that hot guy and I didn’t want to intervene.”

“So considerate,” you mumbled sarcastically, trying to hide your smile as you walked the steps up to the pier and forgot about whatever was happening on the sand.

The stranger really was attractive, and if he hadn’t toppled you over like it was nothing you might have stayed a little longer. When you spotted him below you couldn’t help but look him over. He wore a pair of blue and white striped swimming trunks and no shirt which gave you a good look at his muscular back and sleeve of tattoos. Compared to the players around him, he looked noticeably different from the rest and you kind of liked that.

“What are we eating?” You asked your friends who shrugged, still indecisive.

Hours after the sunset and Jungkook’s adrenaline from winning began to slowly settle down, he walked along the boardwalk with his partner. The two of them are trying to waste time for a while before their night plans come along.

“I know Yeaun is around here somewhere and if she’s here then that means Chae-hi isn’t far,” Jimin said looking around the crowded boardwalk while Jungkook followed behind lazily, “Which means a fun night for us so let’s find them.”

He could hear what Jimin was saying but he wasn’t truly listening. His attention had drifted away from the conversation the second he looked to the side and found a familiar silhouette in the distance. Well, not too familiar but he recognized it from when he crashed into you earlier.

You were with your friends at some jewelry stand looking over all the handmade bracelets and necklaces, such a short distance from him. He could easily make it over to you in no time.

“I don’t really want to see Yeaun,” Jungkook said, eyes trained on you. Jimin groaned in response, whipping back to his friend and shaking his head. He followed his line of sight and jumped in front of him.

“No, look over here, we’ve got plans,” Jimin said hoping to pull Jungkook’s attention away from some stranger, “We told Chae-hi and Yeaun we’d met them tonight.”

“No, you have plans, I never agreed to anything,” Jungkook said with a laugh, clearly amused. He tried to see if you were still there but when he looked back you were already walking away.

“Don’t be that way, think about me. Your best friend, who has been trying to get with Chae-hi for weeks now,” Jimin begged, making Jungkook sigh with defeat. He didn’t say anything as he motioned for Jimin to lead the way and went on with his life.

✧

There’s a story about how you found yourself moving into a beach house with your best friends for the summer. The opportunity sort of fell at your feet when Hoseok’s sister had to leave abroad for a couple months because of her job. She lived in a nice house on the beach that would need to be looked after and that’s when she decided to tell her younger brother about it.

Not long after, he came to you and Hyeri and asked if you wanted to join. It took a long time for him to convince you but when you realized how shitty life currently was back home, there was nothing holding you back.

Your first week has been fun getting to enjoy the warm water and sand between your toes. You’ve gotten into a bit of a routine in the area and you’ve begun to familiarize yourself with the roads and places. That’s probably why you were doing Hoseok a favor by helping him out today.

He’s busy taking care of some errands for his sister and asked if you could bring his car into the shop for some maintenance, considering Hyeri liked sleeping past noon, you had no choice but to agree to it all on your own.

“What can we do for you?” A guy in a dark gray button up and oil streaks across his hands asked you once you made it to the auto shop.

“Just an oil change.”

Jungkook had nearly forgotten about his encounter on the beach. There wasn’t much for him to remember anyway and he’s never been the type to hold onto something so meaningless. He carried on with his usual routine and busied himself away at work.

The shop he worked at was busy all of the time and it was a great distraction from whatever else happened in his life so he truly loved it. He loved getting to work with cars and getting his hands dirty. He worked with people he was friends with and sometimes, if he’s really lucky, someone who catches his attention will stagger in.

When he found you standing in the office with his boss signing papers he was visibly taken back. He had been too busy helping Namjoon take a wheel off a black Sedan, to notice when you came in but he was too late now. You were already finishing up whatever you were doing with Jin and leaving.

“I’ll be back,” Jungkook told Namjoon, tossing him the wrench he had been using and heading straight to the front.

You went across the street to the small diner and he had to think about this. Part of him didn’t feel the need to see you again, mostly because he was embarrassed by toppling you over and probably how he sounded. Part of him wanted to ask for your name, apologize and try and see if you’ll talk to him.

“I’m taking an early lunch,” Jungkook told him without much of a car as he hurried to clock out and leave for the diner.

You sat alone in a booth with your laptop open and scrolling through a website filled with job offers. It was partially out of boredom and a reminder that you needed to find somewhere for when you get back home. You could look for something in the field you used to study in but how far could you get with it?

“Excuse me,” he stood in front of you now, “I don’t know if you remember me from a few days ago but—“

“I remember,” you said blandly, looking up at Jungkook with a mixture of boredom and a small hint of possible curiosity. He looked very different with a shirt on, his abs weren’t as distracting but he still had an intimidating build. That’s why his pretty face surprised you under all that sweat and car grease. He was clearly one of the mechanics and has somehow made his way to you.

“Right, uh,” he swooped in to sit across from you, “I wanted to apologize. I didn’t mean to knock you down and sometimes when I’m playing, I kinda get a little too excited so I’m sure I was just talking and talking.”

You’re assuming he meant how he followed after you and smiled so arrogantly when you looked visibly annoyed with him. What you don’t get is why he’s apologizing again, you weren’t still upset over that.

“It’s fine,” you reminded him with a confused look, trying to read what he was really here for, “You work across the street?”

“Yeah, I’m Jungkook,” He finally introduced himself, “I saw you earlier and it was time for lunch so I came to talk to you.”

You didn’t say anything for a while and the silence wasn’t broken until the waitress came and asked what Jungkook would like. He brushed her off with a ‘Whatever she’s having’ and looked at you curiously.

“Okay,” You’re definitely not from around here because he would’ve recognized you so just who are you? He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Um, yknow, usually when someone gives you their name you say yours back.”

“Y/n,” You said distantly, “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes, anything,” Jungkook sat straighter, almost reaching up to fix his hair but stopping himself. He wasn’t nervous or anything but you’re not speaking to him with the same flirtatious tone and it’s confusing him.

“What are some fun things you can do around here other than the usual tourist stuff?” You asked him suddenly, “You are a local, I assume.”

“You assume right,” Jungkook nodded as he bit his lip in thought, “I could always show you better than I can tell you.”

“You’re a funny guy, y’know?” You smiled, “But seriously, what is there to do?”

He’s pretty sure that was just a rejection so it took him a moment to bounce back from it and tried to catch himself from doing it again.

By the time the car was ready, you were paying for your meal and hurrying to leave while Jungkook ate and enjoyed the last of his break. For the rest of the day he found himself thinking about you.

He’s lived a very repetitive and predictable life. Since early childhood he’s had the same classmates and friends, and gone to the same places and events. He’s known the same girls and has hung out with the same people for years. The only time he got any sense of independence is when he was gone for law school but now that he’s done and has returned home for the sake of his family and friends, he’s reminded once again of the repetitiveness.

Maybe that’s why he’s a little excited to meet someone new. He just had a strong feeling that you were more interesting than you let on and he wanted to know more.

He didn’t know that you felt the same and had to ignore these thoughts so you wouldn’t start anything with him. Jungkook was attractive and you’ve moved on from the fall aside from the slight bruising, and you were just trying to enjoy your time. Did you really need to meet someone?

In all honesty, he didn’t seem as arrogant covered in sweat, he looked good and he seemed nice.

But did that mean you wanted to waste your time with him?

✧

It was a crush, nothing but a small, schoolboy crush that occupied his mind from time to time. In all honesty, it was easy to ignore when he got carried away in his day to day life, it’s only when he sees you or you cross his mind for the shortest of seconds, that he finds himself getting lost. He doesn’t care for the girls his best friend likes to hang around, nor does he feel the need to upturn himself out there. Lately, all he’s wanted is to be with someone who makes him forget about himself and maybe he wasn’t looking in the right places if he thought you could help.

It was wishful thinking for him to hold so much thought over a stranger who couldn’t care less to know his name, but that’s what he liked. He wondered when he would run into you again, what he might say in hopes of getting a response and what would happen after that. He even wondered if you’d be at the beach tonight while everyone told ghost stories and drank bottles of Soju one after the other.

What does he say when he finally sees you looking at him?

You spotted him first, hating how much you wanted for him to look up and see you too. He was with his friends and you had no intentions to approach him but… well, he was cute. You can’t act like he isn’t and he’s oddly charming which makes him memorable but it was a bad idea. This trip was meant to be fun with your friends and that’s it—you weren’t going to make time for strangers.

“For once we don’t have to worry about an Uber and can walk our asses home,” Hoseok said standing over a keg, “So I don’t know about you guys, but I’m blacking out tonight.”

”When has anything ever stopped you from accomplishing that?” You asked him, turning your back to the familiar stranger, “You’re never the one ordering it anyway.”

”No, he’s usually the one we’re pushing into the backseat,” Hyeri joined in on the teasing.

“Shh, why do I always feel judged by you two? Is this what friends are for?” Hoseok pretended to be hurt as he filled your cup with beer.

“She’s not from around here, is she?” Jungkook asked as he looked across at you. You haven’t noticed him—he doesn’t think—but he’s noticed you and for some reason that excited him. Well, for one specific reason and it was simply the fact that he likes you. Does he know enough about you to pinpoint this statement? No, but he knows that he feels strange when you’re around. That has to mean something. The longest relationship he’s ever been in was with Yeaun and he doesn’t remember feeling this excited to meet someone.

“How would I know?” Jimin asked when a scoff, barely bothering to look over at you. He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “You rather think about her than Yeaun? You’re insane.”

“Are you sure it’s Chae-hi you like and not Yeaun? You sure do bring her up around me a lot,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to get back together with Yeaun so that Chae-hi will think about me instead of her ‘heartbroken’ friend,” Jimin handed him a cup of beer, “Take one for the team.”

“No, I don’t think so,” He chuckled, “We broke up for a reason so don’t push it.”

“Not a good reason,” Jimin mumbled under his breath but Jungkook chose to ignore it.

“There you are,” the devil herself said as she found him, “We were wondering where you two ran off, right?”

“Right,” Chae-hi agreed, “Hi Jimin.”

“So, it’s kind of boring here isn’t it?” Yeaun asked looking at Jungkook for assurance, “Plus all the low lives are starting to come in and I really don’t want to be around any of them. We were wondering if you guys wanted to come back to mine.”

“To do what?” Jimin asked while Jungkook stood back disinterested and distracted. He couldn’t even pretend to be interested when he was focused on someone else entirely.

By pure luck, he looked back to see if you were still standing where you were before and this time you locked eyes with him. Without much care for the conversation he was supposed to be in right now, he walked off while they discussed plans involving a hot tub.

“I’m starting to think you’re following me,” Jungkook first said as you nearly bumped into him in an attempt to get closer to the bonfire. He walked alongside you with ease, “First, on the court, then at my job and now here?”

That made you snort in disbelief, shaking your head and trying not to smile, “Someone seems flattered but I think you have it the wrong way.”

“As in I’m the one doing the most to run into you? No, never,” Jungkook spoke dramatically, “This is all by chance. There’s no way I could’ve seen you from over there and decided to come and talk to you instead. That would make me seem desperate, wouldn’t it?”

“It would,” you agreed, slightly amused now as you broke into a small smile, “I didn’t take you as the type.”

“Well that’s because you haven’t tried to get to know me, I’m honestly a catch,” Jungkook joked lightly, following you where you walked off to, “Or are you scared?”

“Scared? Of what?” You asked, stopping abruptly and turning to face him with furrowed brows. He couldn’t help but smirk, “Oh I don’t know… getting to know someone new. You give me the vibe that you don’t like meeting new people.”

“I love meeting new people,” You exaggerated childishly, “When they don’t fall on top of me.”

“I caught myself, so let’s not lie now,” Jungkook snorted, “Besides, who’s the one who walked into the middle of a game?”

As he said that, the two of you seemed to have drifted far enough from where the fire had been going, that you found yourself not too far from one of the volleyball nets on the shore. Jungkook looked down at you with clear amusement as you looked up at the net and he walked up to the abandoned volleyball that sat in the sand.

“Do you eat, sleep, and breathe volleyball?” You jokingly asked, finally giving Jungkook some response that implied you were interested in him even slightly.

“Only on the weekends, sometimes around noon or after work if I’m free,” Jungkook told you, picking up the ball, “Do you play?”

“No,” you told him as he began to bounce the ball back and forth between his hands. You looked back at your friends who seemed preoccupied with whatever new friends they made for the night.

“It’s easy,” Jungkook said, “There’s really only one basic rule, don’t let the ball touch the ground.”

“Are you giving me a lesson now?” You asked with slight amusement as he moved to the other side of the net, “I’m warning you, I won’t be any good at it.”

“I’ll take it easy on you,” Jungkook tossed the ball your way and although you reached out to hit it, you missed and it landed a few feet behind you. He couldn’t help but laugh, “Okay, maybe you try and throw it.”

“But how do I throw it?” You looked up the tall net wondering how you would make it over. You held it up and tried doing a practice hit while he tried teaching you.

“Just try a simple serve, you can hit it from under or thro—“

“Oh my god,” you broke out into a nervous laugh as Jungkook covered his face with his hand. The ball sat at his feet, completely oblivious to the fact it had just pummeled straight into his face. You covered your mouth in an attempt to stop laughing but you were embarrassed and couldn’t do anything but try and laugh it off, “I’m so sorry.”

“Really? I can’t tell?” Jungkook said sarcastically, sounding eerily similar to you when you first met but still playful. In all honesty, the pain wasn’t too bad but it was humiliating and the only thing he could think about is how you’re trying not to laugh, “You think it’s funny?”

“No! No, I don’t, I just um,” you tried to stop, “I just…”

“You just what?” Jungkook looked at you, slowly making his way to your side and you inadvertently began to step back, worried he might actually be upset, “You like laughing at causing other people pain?”

“Did it actually hurt?” You asked with surprise, still stepping back the closer he got.

“My ego, yeah,” he joked, “And I feel like we need to get even.”

“We did, think about it as me getting back at you for the other day!” You tried to say, feeling the edge of the ride begin to touch your feet the farther you walked from him.

“Really? So this was all part of revenge?” Jungkook asked, “I don’t think so, I suggest you run.”

“What?” You stopped to think, “Jungk—“

And it began. He kicked water at you once the tide was close again and without thinking, you jumped back. You weren’t wearing a bathing suit or anything appropriate for the water so he can’t. You’re in a simple top and flowy, long skirt, not something you wanted wet, “Don’t you dare.”

“Why? Scared of a little water?” He tried to kick water again but this time you moved back in time and he smirked, “It’s better than getting hit in the face. Will you take care of me if I get a concussion?”

You scoffed, laughing, “Don’t you wis—Jungkook!”

He ran after you as you took off in a jog and before he knew it, you were splashing water back at him, not caring about how wet you got. The night was young and you were having a good time, there wasn’t much to worry about other than making sure you got Jungkook before he could get you.

Not far from where the two of you played in the ocean with the moon reflecting against the waves, a few pairs of eyes watched you unimpressed. Jimin didn’t have much to think about the matter, he just couldn’t understand it. Why would Jungkook waste his time on someone he didn’t even know?

Yeaun was right here desperate to have him back and instead he’s wandered off with some stranger acting childish. It doesn’t make sense, and neither does the big grin on Jungkook’s face once he caught you and tackled you into the low tide, both getting drenched in water.

“Jungkook!” He ignored the call of his name as he watched you shake sand out of your hair with curiosity. You looked annoyed even if you smiled and he knows you probably are considering he pushed you into the water but you’re not cussing him out yet. You’re not screaming at him for getting you into the water so maybe it was a good sign.

“Are we even now?” You asked breathlessly as you looked forward to where your friends were and turned away from Jungkook.

“I guess, for now at least,” He teased, walking toward Jimin, “It depends on if I bruise or not.”

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” you scoffed, smiling and shaking your head in disbelief. At some point in your ascend back up the shore, Jungkook got you to finally give him your number. You didn’t question when his friend approached him, going on about something you didn’t bother listening to and turned in search for someone you knew.

“You look like you need a towel,” someone said from your right. It took you a second to realize she was talking to you, much less holding out a clean towel for you.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to wipe off some of the sand with the beach towel the stranger handed to you. Hyeri was off talking with some guy and you had no clue where Hoseok was so as of now, you were on your own here. The girl was pretty and she seemed nice enough so you didn’t mind responding to her approach.

“I’m getting sand all over it,” you tried to make some sort of conversation, “Sorry, I’m Y/n.”

“Don’t even worry about it, I’m Yeaun,” She said with a smile, “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, laughing lightly. Yeaun just shrugged as she got closer to you, “Not really, but, well… there’s just some people you should always avoid.”

Your brows began to furrow with confusion, “Like?”

“No, I don’t want to start anything,” she shook her head no, “We don’t know each other and you’ll probably think I’m meddling but… okay, Jeon Jungkook.”

You didn’t say anything to that as you tried to get a good look at the girl. Yeaun was pretty with sun-kissed skin and golden hair that shone under the moonlight. She seemed soft and glowed with a brightness that felt contagious but you didn’t know her. You don’t know why she brought up Jungkook or why she even approached you so you had nothing to say back to her.

“I just mean… you’re not from around here and you seem smart,” Yeaun said sympathetically, “Jungkook’s kind of a known player and I don’t want you to fall for his tricks, trust me, he’s not worth it.”

“Trust me, it’s not like that,” you said, suddenly disinterested in conversation with her and more focused on finding your friends, “Thanks for looking out for me though.”

Yeaun watched you walk away and not bother to turn back and she had to leave like it didn’t bother her to be brushed to the side. She can’t tell if you took what she said into consideration or if you couldn’t care less and she didn’t like that. She didn’t like that she didn’t know you and she didn’t know about your relationship with Jungkook or how you know him.

✧

His life was utterly perfect to anyone who thought about it. He had the bestest of friends, the closest family, the most money and a promising future. Everything he had ever wanted was handed right to him and in a sense, it made him arrogant. It was a given that he would end up that way and maybe that’s why he’s always surrounded himself with people of the like. He didn’t despise any of his friends, just sometimes, when he listened to the conversations they would have, he wanted to disagree.

“Yeaun said you’ve been avoiding her,” Jin said as he pulled a golf club out of his bag.

”Great, now you’re talking about her too?” Jungkook asked, lining his club up with a shiny white golf ball, “I already get enough of it from my parents and Jimin.”

“Well yeah, when you suddenly call off a year long engagement with someone you’ve known all your life, people question it,” Jin said, watching Jungkook swing the club back and shoot the ball into the air, “We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be,” Jungkook mumbled, “Besides, there’s someone else, I don’t know if you know her, her name’s Y/n.”

“Doesn’t ring a bell,” Jin shrugged, moving his visor down to block more of the summer sun out of his eyes. He wore white golfing gloves and a pair of Raybans, making him look straight out of a country club catalog.

Jungkook sighed, growing more restless by the minute. He’s only seen you on few occasions and he’s yet to leave a good impression on you where he can ask for your number or something, “She was hanging out with this guy, I know you know him but I can’t think of his name—you dated his sister.”

“Hoseok?” Jin asked, “I remember hearing about how he was in town. How do you know this isn’t his girlfriend you’re hitting on?”

“It’s not,” Jungkook said, “I don’t think. I don’t know.”

“But what about her?” Jin asked, hopping in the passenger’s side of the golf cart, “You don’t know a thing about the girl but you like her and you’re willing to throw away your future because of it.”

“I’m not throwing anything away,” Jungkook said with a scoff, “But whatever, you don’t get it.”

He spent the evening golfing on a private course not far from the beach where you wandered around with a book in hand.

You enjoyed passing time with your friends but sometimes, you just needed time to yourself and you would find yourself wandering off on your own without much care for anything else. Your friends didn’t mind when you went off and you always made sure to tell them where you would go so there was never any problem. Ever since you got here, you’ve been doing things on your own.

“I knew I would find you around here.”

You didn’t respond at first, still debating if the person was talking to you, but one look up told you he was. Although you wanted to resist the urge to smile, you couldn’t help it.

“Stalker,” You said with a small sigh, closing your book. He didn’t say anything as he took a seat down in the sand next to you. “You’re on my turf, remember? What are you reading by the way?”

You glanced at the cover of your book, “Nothing exciting—how’d you know I was here?”

“I looked for a dark, brooding figure and assumed it was you,” Jungkook joked, “And just an fyi, my face still hurts.”

“I’m sure you've been hit worse,” You said sarcastically, sitting up and watching him get comfortable. He was dressed in a light color linen button up and shorts, the first buttons were undone and a cliche shell necklace sat perfectly against his collarbone. He was attractive and you’ve thought so since the beginning but something was holding you back.

Did you really want to waste your time on a stranger you won’t know in a few months?

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks suddenly.

“Sleeping, hopefully,” you told him, a small smile when you noticed him roll his eyes.

“It’s the summer, the sun’s out, you live on the beach—don’t look at me like that, it’s a small town. Word gets around when a new person shows up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, knowing it’s him who had been asking about you.

“You’re just solidifying my stalker allegations, should I report you?” You asked, laughing slightly.

“I’ll have you know, a lot of people would love to be stalked by me, you should feel flattered,” He nudged your knee with his.

“What? Like it’s hard? Word gets around,” You said to him, “I’ve already been warned about getting too close to you.”

Jungkook let his brows furrow as he took in what you said but it didn’t take long for it to dawn on him. As much as he wanted to act like there was no way his ex girlfriend would approach you, he knew her too well. Who else would talk down on him? Who else would feel threatened when he ignores them? What does she think she gains from telling you to stay away from him? Isn’t it his decision who he approaches and does she think you’re just going to fall in line like everyone else does?

This is the sort of thing that pisses him off. He’s not a bad guy at all, he doesn’t sleep around, he focuses on his goals, he has fun with his friends… so why?

“But if it makes you feel any better, I’m not very good at listening to what I’m told,” You finally said, standing up with your book in hand and pulling the sand-covered towel, “And I’m starving, so where’s a good place to eat around here?��

As much as he wanted to act like the cool guy and seem indifferent, he couldn’t help but break out into a grin. Without wasting another second, he got up and motioned to carry your things, “There’s a good food shack on the boardwalk. I guess I could show you around.”

“If it isn’t too much of a hassle,” You said playfully, handing him your things.

“So, I want to know, what’s a big city girl like yourself doing all the way over here?” He asked on the way up, “Or do you still want to play at being mysterious?”

You rolled your eyes, “I don't usually play games like that, I think you’ve got me confused with someone else. I just don’t talk if I have nothing to say.”

“Interesting take, I personally never know when to shut up,” Jungkook smiled, pointing up to the restaurant and walking in behind you, “But seriously, usually the tourists come to pollute our water and get away.”

“Are you always so observant? You give me the vibe that you like to watch other people,” You told him, sitting down at a high round table across from him.

“And you give me the vibe that you hate talking about yourself. Why else would you avoid every question I ask?” He asked, raising a brow making you scoff but you couldn’t deny it. When the server brought out your menus, she made sure to greet Jungkook like old friends.

“Do you really care to know?” You asked quietly.

“Why else would I ask? I’m not pretending to be interested, if that’s what you think,” Jungkook said honestly.

You didn’t say anything for a moment, looking down at the menu contemplating what to order and what to say, “Things were getting a little too complicated back home and my friend asked if I wanted to pack up my things and follow him down for the summer and I said yes.”

“How broad,” Jungkook said with a small smile, lifting a brow and waiting to see if you would add to it.

“It’s the truth,” you shrugged.

“What was complicated?” Jungkook asked.

He looked amused when you narrowed your eyes in response to his probing. “Adulting.”

“You’ll figure it out,” Jungkook shrugged, waiting for the server to come back to take your orders. He let you order first, watching the server give you a look as she listened and followed after with his own.

“How wise of you to say. What about you?” You asked him, handing the menus back and sliding your drink closer to you.

Jungkook distracted himself playing with the wrapper of his straw and shrugged, “What about me? We’ll get to me when you give me the juicy details.”

You couldn’t help but scoff, looking out the window to the view of the waves crashing against the shore, “What? I told you everything.”

He chuckled, “Barely.”

Rolling your eyes, “Rude.”

“Really?” He asked, biting back a smile.

“No. You’re actually pretty nice,” once again, you sighed, as if admitting that was hard for you.

“Nice? That’s what you tell a guy when you’re going to reject him. I just want to know more about you but there’s not much I can go with. How long are you staying?” Jungkook finally asked you.

“A couple months, are you already dreading it when I leave?” You asked, sounding sarcastic and amused.

“Maybe, you’ve left an impression despite what you might think. Crushing you under my incredible physique was destiny.” He could tell you wanted to laugh but were refusing to do so.

“Corny.”

“Funny.” He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair and making it known that he was going to wait for you however long it took.

“I had this bad roommate situation I couldn’t take anymore and my lease doesn’t end for another two months so when Hobi asked me to come with I jumped at the chance. I left my job because it’s draining me and I felt useless so I figured it’d be easier to run away to the beach and deal with it all later. Happy? I was honest.” You rushed the words, half-assed the pace.

It was his turn to narrow his eyes suspiciously but gave in, “Content. You’ll figure it out, you don’t seem like the type to wait around for things to fix themselves.”

“Really? Because that feels like what I’m doing right now. I’m all the way over here where I haven’t done anything but run into this strange guy at the beach who I think might be stalking me,” You said, joking at the end.

“No, right now you’re trying to live in the moment, nothing wrong with that,” he chuckled, ignoring your joke.

You don’t remember much of what you said to him but for some reason Jungkook was very easy to talk to. Maybe it’s because you don’t really know him or expect anything from him at all but he got you too open up to him like you’ve known him for years. In reality you didn’t know anything about him or anyone here for that matter.

“Okay, okay, enough about me. It’s your turn,” you had finally said between mouthfuls of whatever the two of you ordered and Jungkook couldn’t avoid it any longer.

“Alright, I’m… also trying to figure things out on my own. I’m used to being with certain people and doing certain things and I don’t know, at one point I kind of got fed up with everything being so predictable. I want to meet people on my own and not because they know who I am or something,” He rushed his words, “If I could, I’d move far away from here but right now I don’t think that’s an option so I settle for next best and stick it out. In all honesty, everything’s kind of been a bore until I met you, you’re different.”

You raised a brow, mirroring his earlier stance and crossing your arms over your chest, unamused, “How?”

He smirked, “I don’t know yet, I can just tell.”

You never believe a guy when he goes on about how different you are from other girls because usually they’re just full of shit. You’re not good at picking the right person so it makes you wary to believe anything he says despite how good he looks saying it.

By the time the bill came, the server made sure to sit it without checking if that’s what either of you wanted but you didn’t hesitate to reach for yours. Jungkook snatched the small slip out of your hand and hurried the server back so he could pay for it in full, giving her a tight smile, “Just one check, thanks.”

“Sure thing,” she said with a light scoff that had you looking after her with furrowed brows. Something about the way she acted left you feeling confused.

“What a good first date.” Jungkook said at the end, walking outside with you.

“This wasn’t a date,” you teased, thanking him for the meal nevertheless, “But I should probably call it a night, y’know.”

“Oh yeah, me too,” Jungkook shrugged “But if you’re not doing anything tomorrow night, we should see each other again.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” You said playfully, “If I’m not busy.”

“You won’t be,” He smirked, bumping your shoulder with his as the walk turned bumpy and more trail-like as he walked you home, “But why don’t you give me your number and we can talk about it more on the phone.”

“Hah, smooth guy, aren’t you?” You asked, taking his phone and typing your number in. When you got to the soft trail of greenery and sand that led up to the backyard of the beach house.

“How about we watch the last few minutes of the sun set together,” he reached for your head and stopped you before you could head up the wooden steps.

“How about you don’t kidnap my friend for the whole evening!” Hoseok shouted suddenly, tripping over his own feet as he ran out the sliding glass door that led to the pool deck, “I’ve been worried sick about Y/n.”

“Not true, he’s been sleeping!” Hyeri yelled after him, “But you’re the guy who tackled my best friend on our first day here.”

“My reputation precedes me,” Jungkook held his hands up in surrender, “I’m Jungkook. I was just asking if you guys wanted to join us and watch the sun set.”

“How aesthetic, let me grab some bottles of Soju.”

Your attempt to end your time with Jungkook failed and he seemed pleased with himself for that. He was also polite enough to try and get to know your friends too.

✧

He was having a crisis, he thinks. A real life identity crisis because for the first time in his life he thinks he likes someone—in a way he’s never liked anyone before. It’s pathetic and makes him feel so stupid because he barely knows anything about you but it’s the truth. If anything that’s what makes him like you so much. He likes that he can’t tell what you’ll say or how you’ll react to him, it’s exciting.

He just wants to know if he’s on your mind too.

“We’re still on for this weekend right?”

“What are we doing again?” The road ahead was a scenic path between mountain and sea that led all the way to this private property of his childhood home.

“Chae-hi’s birthday trip.” Jimin spoke from the passenger’s seat of the black pick-up truck his best friend paraded in when he wasn’t on his dirtbike.

“Oh, yeah I’m not going. I was thinking of taking Y/n sailing,” Jungkook said with a small smile, looking sideways, unable to miss the way Jimin stiffened and went silent. He looked back to the road, hand tightening around the steering wheel slightly, “What?”

“Nothing,” Jimin scoffed, looking out the window annoyed now. The drive was silent for a while, nothing but the low sound of music and wind blowing through the topless truck.

“What’s up with you lately?” He finally asked, “You barely know the girl and she’s all you talk about. We’ve had plans to go with everyone.”

By everyone he meant their mutual friends—not just his ex and her friend—which made things worse. He’s known them all for years and it’s hard to see them when he wants to move on and do his own thing. Jungkook tried not to let Jimin’s tone ruin his mood and sighed, “Sorry, man, but I’m not going. Are we playing later or what?”

“You sure you’re not busy with your new friends?” Jimin asked, remembering about the night Jungkook had dinner with you. He tried calling him that night to see if he wanted to go out for drinks just to be rejected because Jungkook was too busy with you and your friends.

Jungkook chuckled, “Don’t be jealous, you’ll always be first in my heart.”

“Oh fuck off,” Jimin rolled his eyes, trying to not sound bitter as he asked, “What’s your girl doing anyway?”

“Y/n’s not my girl—yet, I don’t know. She hasn’t texted back,” Jungkook said worriedly, making Jimin stare at him strangely.

It’s not that he had anything against you personally, he just doesn’t get it. You’re a complete stranger who won’t stick around so why has his best friend chosen to hang out with you so much recently. What did you have over the people he’s known all his life? What do you bring to the table?

What did you gain from being around Jungkook?

You couldn’t explain it either. All you really knew was that a cute guy who sort of annoyed you in the beginning was starting to rub off on you. You’ve come to enjoy running into him and forcing yourself to open up because he’ll listen. It made you feel weird in a good way. You wanted to think about how fun it was to be around him and ignore all the worries you’ve had recently.

Even with your close friends, you’ve long since stopped talking about the people you were interested in. It wasn’t because you didn’t trust them or want their advice but sometimes you didn’t feel the need to say anything—especially if it was harmless fun. That’s why when Hyeri approached you about Jungkook, you weren’t sure what to say.

“It’s no fair,” Hyeri picked through a crate of strawberries, dropping them into a basket, “I wanted to find a little beach boyfriend, why’d you get lucky instead.”

“What are you talking about?” You asked dumbly, following her down the aisle of produce at the farmer’s market.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” Hyeri said accusingly, “Jungkook.”

“We’re just hanging out,” You said with a shrug that made her laugh, pushing her sunglasses into her hairline. You knocked against one end of a green watermelon, hoisting it in your hands and continuing past her.

“Right, is that what you called your date the other night? Just a nice early dinner with a hot guy who asked to watch the sunset with you?” She said playfully, “You like him, don’t you.”

“I don’t know him,” You insisted. Yes, you’ve talked a lot with Jungkook recently and you’ve begun to talk about real things in your lives but did that really mean anything? “Besides, in a month and a half I’ll be in my new place settling back into the old routine. It’s just fun hanging out with him, nothing more, it’d be too complicated.”

“Whatever you say,” Hyeri sighed.

You’re lying, obviously you’re lying because you do sort of like him but you didn’t want to think about it. You didn’t want to think about what you could become, you only want to think about now and how things progress. Whatever happens, happens. That’s it. Could you pretend like you have no worries aside from who you’ll run into on the beach instead?

When your phone rang, you knew immediately who it could’ve been and although Hyeri walked ahead, acting like she couldn’t hear it, she was clearly listening. When you answered Jungkook’s call, he was quick to ask about your plans for the upcoming weekend.

✧

“You want to take me sailing?”

Despite the early hours where the sun has yet to shine through, you still couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Even walking along the dock following after Jungkook who led the way through the darkness of the starry sky. “Or are you plotting my murder?”

“Which would you prefer I do?” He asked teasingly, looking back at you with a grin, “But seriously, it’ll be fun.”

Fun wasn’t waking up before the sun did, nor was it following a man you barely know out to the sea. If it weren’t for Hyeri begging you to take up his offer, you wouldn’t be here right now.

The sailing yacht was bigger than you expected with a small cabin area below deck to sleep and wash up in. You’ve never been on a sailboat before but you didn’t think they would look this nice and clean.

“This is yours?” You asked, watching him put in the arm work to undo the rope that tied the boat to the dock.

“Um, yeah,” Jungkook answered blandly, “Kinda?”

“Kinda?”

“Yeah, it’s mine,” he cleared his throat, helping you carry your bag down to the room before bringing you back up to the galley, “I used to be on a sailing team when I was in school and after I graduated I got this for my friends and I.”

“Nice,” You looked around, still in shock at the size of the sails. It was a Beneteau Oceanis 48 with such a sleek, clean look you were scared to sit on any part of it. You wanted to ask how much it was but resisted the urge to, scared you’d sound rude.

Still half asleep, you watched Jungkook set sail behind the wheel, his jacket already off and the sleeves of his linen shirt.

“Sleep a little, we’ve got time,” he said lastly.

It went easy between you two, you felt comfortable and for some reason safe with him enough to letyourself relax around him. You can't remember falling asleep but at some point you had and when you were woken up it was with him dropping anchor in the middle of the open sea.

The waves were calm, breathtaking deep blue and you could see the line of gold separating the ocean from the sky. It was beginning to warm up but you still shivered in your thin sweater, looking up feeling awestruck by the view.

"Look who's finally awake," Jungkook said softly as he secured the wheel and came over to where you sat. He grabbed his jacket — that he had grown too hot for — and placed it over your front. You took in the light scent of his cologne that lingered on the Northface and thanked him, "You said I could sleep."

"I know," he sat across from you, looking at you with a gentle look on his eyes, "I did wake you up pretty early, but look at the view. Do you like it?"

"Yeah, it's nice," You leaned against the edge of the seat, staring down at the dark navy blue water, almost catching your reflection in it. The line of gold was beginning to widen and a circle of light was bouncing off the ocean beautifully. "If you plan on pushing me over the edge, now's the time."

"You're dumb," he laughed, kicking your foot with his playfully. You smiled, trying not to laugh as you looked at him, "Aren't you cold?"

"No, it's hard work getting a sail boat out and I was starting to sweat," Jungkook lifted an arm, flexing it, "But these guns never fail me."

"That's too bad, I was hoping you'd want to keep me warm but I don't want you to overheat," You teased, looking at him invitingly and his eyes shifted to the open space next to you. To set it off, you even winked.

"You know what, now that you mention it, being surrounded by this sea breeze is making me a little chilly," Jungkook pretended to shiver as he got up.

"The sun's rising, I'm sure you'll warm up again really soon," You said as he sat next to you, touching your leg and making you put it on his lap.

"Who knows, I'm suddenly freezing, come closer," he rested his arm on the back of your seat, pulling you onto his lap, "I heard body heat is good to warm up."

"You can always just put your jacket on," You pretended to argue making him roll your eyes, almost sassily.

"But you look so much better in it," He brushed hair out of your face that the wind blew over, finger softly tracing the side of your face.

"I hate to admit this but... you're too good to be true," You said honestly, shifting your gaze away, "Like, too perfect."

"But I'm not," Jungkook argued quietly, "I'm just... I don't know, I'm not acting like myself—or maybe I am and haven't realized it but I think it's you. I want to impress you."

You didn't know how to respond but he didn't mind. He was more focused on the soft glimmer in your eye as you watched the sky turn a powder blue with orange, hearing the seagulls and light whooshing sound of the sails.

It's bad how affected you're leaving him and you don't even know it.

"Y/n," Jungkook tried getting your attention again, leaned his head against your shoulder. You didn't have to say anything to know what he was asking. The first soft brush of his lips against your jaw had you succumbing to his effect. He tilted your chin with the tip of his fingers, catching your lips with his, finally.

How do you describe it?

How do you explain how soft and tender his lips felt? How his fingers grazing your skin sent a shiver down your spine and how he was surprisingly very loving with his affection?

This man who you barely knew and trusted too much was making you melt in his arms, kissing you and making it feel like you've never been kissed before.

"This is bad," he mumbled against your lips, pulling back to catch his breath, eyes still closed, "I really like you."

You gave him one quick peck of a kiss, sitting up, "Tell me all about it then."

Jungkook couldn't he'll but crack a grin, licking the taste of you off his lips. He wouldn't be able to shut up if he did.

You're beautiful, stunning, truly.

Even with your face in sand or your hair a mess, a scowl or pout, just beautiful to him. It was so stupid for him to be swayed by that but it's obviously what pulled him in first.

You were so mean—he thought, at least—but it never stopped him from approaching you. It's like he knew it wasn't your intention to come off so cold and when you'd joke back with him, he could see the hint of mischief in your eyes. It made him want to push your buttons or say something he knew would get a reaction from you.

You're different and he wishes it didn't sound so stupid like he knew you would think if he ever told you but you are. You're like no one he's met—really met, beyond surface level interests or habits. You responded differently, looked at him differently, treated him different.

"I won't shut up if I do," he said honestly, "Can't I just show you, instead?"

"How suggestive," you giggled, letting him kiss you again. There was more force to it this time, like he really meant it. The first one was firm and teasing, really testing the waters when his hand disappeared into your hair to keep you from pulling away.

You were spending the golden hour of the late sunrise with Jungkook sailing on a boat in the ocean. The view was amazing and his lips were so soft.

His lip ring is surprisingly warm when it brushes your lips, and his tongue feels slick against yours. He held you closely making you feel secure and safe [?], and at one point you made it onto his lap, practically straddling him.

You pressed closer to him eagerly and the movement makes his hands travel toward your hips for support, his jacket long forgotten on the floor. The seat was hard underneath him but if he mentioned it you might pull away and that's the last thing he wanted in the moment. Jungkook liked kissing you, he liked feeling your lips trail down his jaw and toward his neck where you didn't shy away from leaving open mouth kissed against his Adam's apple or under his ear.

"Y/n—" his hands circled around you tighter, "Have you gotten a good look at the cabin?"

Your brows furrowed momentarily, looking down the short steps to the cabin door where a big bed was seen through the window, "No, want to show me?"

You began to get up from Jungkook's lap, making his hands slide off down your hip, leading you to the cabin.

Jungkook wasn’t as subtle as he hoped to be when he pressed you into his chest, peppering your shoulder with light and teasing kisses taking you further into the room. A small smile played on your lips when you turned to face him, circling your arms around his neck.

He didn’t question it when you walked him toward the bed instead, making him sit down as you kissed and straddling him once more. You were a good kissed and Jungkook could attest to that by the way your tongue slid between his lips to seek his out. It was a surprise for you to be so forward with him but he wasn’t complaining at all. If anything it made him want to take it further. He wasn’t shy with his touches anymore and you could feel his hands circle down to your butt, pressing you firmly into his lap.

It was hard to ignore his arousal from your simple make-out. It was evident in his shorts and it made you want to keep going. You began to rock your hips against him lightly, feeling his growing bulge apply pressure between your legs.

“Can we get this off?” Jungkook asked about your jacket first, feeling you miles away and when you unzipped it, you pulled off your shirt too leaving him breathless, “You’re bolder than I thought.”

“Is that a bad thing?” You asked, watching his fingers trace down your bare sides, looking at your bra and chest. His finger hooked into the hem of your jeans as if to teasingly ask if they can come off next and you gave him the go ahead, starting to unbutton his shirt for him.

“Never,” he sighed, eyes closing when your hands touched his muscular chest. His hands snuck under her jeans playing with your underwear and grinding your hips against his worn more purpose drawing out a small groan in the process.

When your hips began to move on their own, teasing his aching member, he leaned forward to kiss along your neck, finding your pulse points with ease and reaching behind you for the clasp of your bra to get it off next.

Your arms circled his neck, hugging his head close to feel his lips on your skin and moved your hips with more determined rhythm. You’d be lying if you said his kisses weren’t turning you on and sending shivers down your spine. Jungkook slid your bra off letting it hit the floor while you wrestled his opened shirt off his shoulders and hugged him in a kiss.

“You’re so sexy,” Jungkook whispered, kissing the soft mound of your breasts, “Even when I had you in the ground covered in sand that’s all I could think about.”

“And here I thought it was my personality that drew you in,” You teased, letting him finally turn you on your back beneath him. He pulled your jeans off leaving you in your small slither of panty.

“Trust me, it did,” Jungkook said, kissing along your thighs, “Hurt my feelings that the pretty girl from the beach couldn’t care less about me.”

“A real shot to your ego,” you raised your knees

Jungkook leaned forward to catch your lips in a kiss, hovering over your body, “It really was.”

A small gasp left your lips as you felt his hand trace down the curve of your sides, slipping into your underwear and feeling the soft slope of your nether region. Your thighs parted more, letting his finger tease your clit.

“I wasn’t too impressed in the beginning,” You joked, lifting your hips when you felt his finger begin to feel around your folds, surely finding where the slick began to puddle. He used the wetness to coat your clit, raising a light sigh from your lips there he swallowed in a kiss.

“I’m well aware,” Jungkook whispered against your lips. You rose your hips to meet his hand, finding some stimulation that made your body respond with raise bumps in pleasure, “What about now?”

As he asked, his coated middle finger finally pressed into your wet cunt, with his palm against your clit and grinding into it as he pushed his finger into the hilt. You dug your nails into his tatted forearm to ground yourself against the sudden feeling and holding back the loud moan that almost slipped. He smiled, clearly amused by your reaction. He maneuvered his hand around so his thumb could find your clit and with it covered in your arousal it made the slide so much easier.

Jungkook’s long finger slide into your pussy with slight restriction, curling when he pushed all the way in and finding that sweet spot that had your breath hitching and probing at it. You were at a loss for words and he loved it, it made him want to kiss you as he brought you pleasure with just his hand. He wasn’t even asking for a response anymore, he was just trying to tell you how he’s felt while he makes you feel good on an expensive sail boat in the sea.

The sunrise had long been forgotten and replaced by the thought of how good he made you feel and he was happy about that.

"Oh, fuck." You gasped, gripping his armas he hooks his finger at just the right angle. You didn’t even have to tell him that was the spot that made your toes curl, it’s like he just knew it.

"Like it?" He asked, repeating his previous action, kissing along your neck for added stimulation.

He could feel you on edge of orgasm by the way you pinched his arm but he didn’t care about the slight sting. He cared more for the glazed look in your eyes, walls tightening around his finger.

It’s like he knew exactly when the last push would be, and his pace grew more rough, ready to get you there and finally your body gave way to pleasure.

“Pretty,” Jungkook said softly, feeling your release around his hand, letting you ride out your high and pulling his hand back when you were ready. Your breathing was shallow and the sight of your breasts falling and rising with each breath was hypnotizing. When he pulled back, he couldn’t stand the constriction of his shorts anymore. Without thinking, he licked your release off his hand before yanking his shorts down along with his usual Calvin Kleins.

Jungkook didn’t say he was ready to go further, but you could tell just by the way his cock sprung free from its confines. It was pretty and long, not too think nor skinny and fit his physique perfectly. He stroked himself here and there for some friction but didn’t hurry you along. Instead, he let you catch your breath as he watched in awe at the fact that he had you in bed with him.

“Come here,” you motioned for him to come closer with your index finger and sat up, fully naked before him and getting him in the bed with you. Jungkook followed in a trance, kissing you thoughtlessly and nearly biting your lip in surprise when your fingers touched the tip of his dick, feeling the pre-cum that leaked from the slit.

You barely had your hand wrapped around his pretty cock, giving him a small jerk up his length when his fingers circled around your waist to stop you, “Not tonight.”

You tried to read the expression in his eyes but he just kissed you lovingly, “I want to feel you, all of you.”

“What a giver,” You said playfully, kissing the tip of his nose and laying back with him following after you. He held your legs apart, lining his cock at your entrance, “Can I? I’ll pull out.”

You gave a nod of your head, looking down as his cock pressed forward, aching to feel the tightness of your wet walls hugging him.

You’re not sure what came over you then, but the feel of his dick pushing past your entrance made you feel bold. Your leg hooked around his waist, pulling him forward and watching how his jaw went slack. Jungkook looked down at how eagerly you took him and his arms nearly gave out, eyes rolling as he processed the sudden pleasure.

You still needed a moment to adjust to his size and he practically fused himself to your body, trapping you beneath his muscular figure, “Fuck.”

His movements were slow at first, thrusting gently to find what felt good and what didn’t, running gentle hands over your breasts so he could feel the fullness of them. When he thrusted his hard length in, his thumbs were circled your nipples, pulling his cock out and pinching at them. Something about the leg you had around him drove him wild, feeling your territoriality over him even if there was a chance it meant nothing.

“Jungkook,” you moaned softly at a particularly harsh thrust, scratching at his back unintentionally, “Feels good.”

Something was happening inside of him that he couldn’t explain. He wanted to say things he shouldn’t, things that were too soon to admit and he had to bite his tongue to stop himself. The only other way he could stop himself from sounding like a fool was with his mouth on you and the closest thing to him were your perky nipples.

Jungkook never slowed the steady pace he set fucking you but with the added pleasure to your chest, his tongue circling around your nipple and sucking lightly, had you seeing stars. You’d nearly forgotten where you were till you looked out the windows, seeing the clear sky and the pretty water making this all feel more surreal.

Jungkook hugged you close, hand gripping your thigh and inching it higher around himself as he fucked you rougher, taking pleasure in bringing you close again and this time around he couldn’t bother being as gentle. He wanted to, he swears, but he’s so turned on by you that he couldn’t be patient at all. You didn’t even seem to mind when his hips slammed into yours, turning you to lay on your side, fucking yourself on his cock with more vigor knowing he needed release too, and let him manhandle you however he wanted. His free hand snuck into your hair, pulling slightly when he dragged you into another kiss and groaned against your lips.

Neither of you had to say anything to know you were both close, and it made you impatient. You moaned at the roughness, letting yourself get lost in the feeling unripe you couldn’t take it anymore, once again cumming with little control of yourself. He held you so roughly to his body, not letting you go as you struggled to catch your breath and you knew it was taking everything in him to not let go inside you. That’s the only thing that had you pushing away from him, trying to sneak a hand down to touch him but the second you did, his cock spilled thick cum into your hand, creamy and white. You wanted a taste badly.

Jungkook moaned your name quietly, feeling pathetic to cum so easily by your hand but he couldn’t hold back anymore. It took him longer to bounce back than you, and when he opened his eyes he caught you pressing a finger to your tongue, taking a small taste that left him shuddering.

“Don’t do that,” his voice said, raspy and tired tone.

“You did it to me,” You said, licking your finger clean, “And you made a mess.”

“Sorry,” he couldn’t help but pout, looking surprisingly cute to you even with his hair a sweaty mess and the afterglow of sex on his naked body, “Kiss?”

A grin spreads over his face when you lean in to kiss him, happily kissing you back more gently now.

“Would I sound wimpy if I said I needed a nap?” It pained him to even ask but he was suddenly so tired and relaxed in your arms. It made him feel unmanly to even think to ask but he couldn’t help it, he could lay in bed all day with you if it was an option, “We can worry about breakfast later—perhaps when it’s consider lunch or an afternoon snack.”

You laughed softly, snuggling into him further, “Let me at least clean up a little and then we can sleep for as long as you want.”

Jungkook smiled happily, letting you leave to the bathroom as he hurriedly tugged the bedding off. He wasn’t too worried about the boat, knowing he properly set anchor and the water was calm today. If anything the light rocking of the boat could lull him to sleep if you were in his arms.

“Are you sick of me yet?” Jungkook asked, watching you drift in and out of sleep as he drove away from the shipping dock. It was the evening and the hours spent in the open sun was exhausting, even with how sweet it felt. At least he thinks you might feel that way.

If he were being honest, he could still be with you longer. There hadn’t been enough hours in the day for him, “Or do you think we could still get dinner?”

“We can, but I need a shower, I’m sticky and sweaty,” You said absentmindedly, catching the way he bit his lip with a smirk that had you smacking his arm, “Don’t be gross.”

“I didn’t say anything,” He laughed, grinning as he thought about the way you said his name when you were naked in his arms, “But, I want to take you to my family home. My parents are gone for the weekend and it’s closer than my apartment.”

“Are you hiding your apartment from me?” You asked jokingly.

“No, but I live with Jimin and I want to be selfish and have you to myself longer so your place is out of the question too,” Jungkook admitted.

“And what am I supposed to wear? I didn’t really pack clothes,” You looked down at his linen shirt you currently wore, only panties underneath thinking you’d be going home after the eventful day.

“Something mine, you look good in what’s mine,” Jungkook said with a wink, “I’ll make us something nice—maybe get something ordered…”

“Oh I guess.”

You didn’t question the drive away from the houses lining the beach in his pick up truck. You stared out the window and watched the view turn more scenic would hillsides and small rocky edges, more nature-esque.

Songs played quietly that Jungkook would sometimes hum along too with a perfect pitch that had looking over at him from time to time. When he would catch you looking, he’d stop immediately and tighten his hands over the steering wheel.

He was nervous.

His family home was empty and he could go to it whenever he pleased but did he really want to bring you along? Open up another side of himself just for a few more moments alone? Did you mean this much to him?

Swallowing his nerves, he turned down a private road with tall trees and white gravel. It stretched on for a mile before ending at private gates. You sat up, slightly more aware of what was going on when he lowered his window to type in some code, hearing someone speak through an intercom, ‘Welcome home, sir.’

He could feel your eyes on him and he just smiled, “Wash up first?”

“Please,” You said, looking away, staring straight ahead at the colonial house that appeared in view. It was obscenely large with endless windows and greenery surrounding it making it all the more intimidating.

This is his family home, yours couldn’t compare.

Still, you tried not to question it.

Jungkook didn’t bother driving back to the private garage, he pulled up to the circular driveway by the fountain of a water nymph and got out of his truck, opening the door for you. It should’ve dawned on him that something was going to happen. The lights were on when no one should be home.

Still, he’s already brought you this far.

“Jungkook?”

His hand stopped at the handle of your door, just barely pulling it open but with little room for you to step out. You stopped moving instantly, watching the way he visibly stiffened, face hardening as he looked off to the distance.

“You’re here, what a surprise.”

“Mom,” he turned around immediately, “I thought you guys weren’t home.”

“Well, if you would answer the phone, when I call, you would know your father’s trip was canceled,” a women in a tweed Chanel suit and a tight smile stepped down from the entrance, “You’ve brought company?”

As if being summoned, Jungkook looked at you, motioning for you to step out and although you didn’t want you, you did—undressed and exhausted. The woman was stunning and classy like you’d never seen, somewhat taken back that she was the mother of the beach boy you’ve met.

Not to mention, it was too early to meet anyone’s parents. It made you sick to your stomach even as you smiled politely, “Hello.”

“This is Y/n,” Jungkook reached for your hand, “We were just stopping by.”

“When you thought no one was home?” She asked, making you look at him. He was grown, clearly, but still scolded and questioned like a child.

Jungkook didn’t say anything but you could feel him squeeze your hand when her eyes traveled over your barely dressed figure. He at least had on a t-shirt that was in his truck and his shorts.

“Why don’t the two of you clean up, we’re having dinner on the terrace,” She said looking unimpressed, “I’ll have a maid find you something more appropriate.”

“Oh, we don’t want to bo—“

“We have guests so don’t make a scene, I already had to make an excuse for why you wouldn’t be here, you can’t leave now. Even if you do have sudden company.”

That shut Jungkook up quicker than you’d ever seen. It wasn’t that you couldn’t catch on to what was happening, but more so you could wrap your mind around the reality of it. You moved almost as robotically as he did, sneaking into the house unsure what was going on aside from doing as told. He took you into his bedroom, pulling you in the bathroom with him and washing up. His entire demeanor changed and you didn’t know what to do.

“Should I go? I could probably get Hoseok to get me,” You told him honestly. You weren’t upset — not yet. As far as you knew, Jungkook might have a complicated relationship with his parents meeting the person he’s sleeping with, especially considering how recent things are with you. Neither of you are ready to meet the family, it’s just fun summer things. You’d say the biggest shock was that Jungkook seemed to be wealthy and likes to keep that private but does that make you worried?

“No, I want you here with me,” Jungkook said, swallowing hard and opening the door to his room, finding something folded on the edge of his bed. He handed it to you without much thought as he got dressed.

It was nothing crazy, just a light colored sundress and you had to dry off quickly so you could join him downstairs. Part of you wanted to call your friends but what would it mean if you did?

“What a surprise, brother, and I see you’ve finally brought someone new along,” an arrogant voice spoke up from the large dinner table on the terrace. It was a candle lit dinner with six guests aside from the two of you and you immediately reconciled a familiar face.

“Hello, sorry for keeping everyone waiting,” Jungkook said stiffly, “This is Y/n.”

“We’ve met,” Yeaun said when the others looked at you confused. Their greetings were bland and uncaring but you tried not to think too hard on it, “On the beach, right?”

“Yes, I remember,” You tried to smile, looking at Jungkook just as confused as everyone.

“Yeaun is a family friend,” Jungkook explained to you.

“An ex-fiancée,” His mother said coldly, making him freeze.

Why was she saying this?

“Darling,” an older version of Jungkook with salt and pepper hair said to his wife in warning.

“We’re on good terms though,” Yeaun smiled tightly, “Things have been changing recently, haven’t they?”

She asked you like you would know—like you were the reason for it but you were too stuck on what she was to care.

Ex-what?

“So, are you still going with the firm?” A woman sitting next to his brother said to him. That made his brother laugh, “He’s still playing around Jin’s auto shop.”

“Is everyone already eating? What about us?” Jungkook looked at you suddenly, “Should we get served?”

The firm? What firm? What fiancée? What was going on?

“Y/n, what about you? Are you new in town? Who are your parents?” The dad asked, making all heads turn toward you, a member of who you assumed was house staff, began to serve you and Jungkook dinner.

“Dad,” Jungkook tried to say but he didn’t get very far.

“I’m just here for the summer, I’m from the city,” You told him with a smile.

“How’d you meet?” Jungkook’s mother asked.

“On the beach,” You told her plainly. She didn’t say anything in response but you could feel the way her eyes narrowed at you like she was trying to read you. You weren’t lying or anything but it felt like she didn’t believe you. Under the table, Jungkook’s hand touched your thigh but in all honesty you didn’t even want him to touch you. It’s not anything serious, you were just confused and uncomfortable in this situation. He should’ve just taken you home or let you call Hoseok.

“A city girl, huh? You must have a big job, right? What do you do?” His brother asked.

“I’m in between work right now,” You said honestly, just as you had told Jungkook who seemed to be open to that idea and understood why. Sometimes, doing the same routine in a career you didn’t have passion anymore left you drained and you needed a change of pace. You explained this to him and he made it all feel okay so why were you being looked at strangely?

“So wasting your time over here is what you want to be doing?” His mom asked.

Jungkook took a deep breath, wanting to speak up but unsure how to do so. He obviously hasn’t told you anything but his relationship with his family is complicated. The added guests made it all the worse. Has he always been such a coward?

“That’s what it seems like,” You said bitterly, looking over at Jungkook with a cold expression.

You don’t remember much of the rest of dinner, only that you hated every second of it and how you just wanted to go home. You checked out of all conversations after a while and watched the tension between them with little interest. What you’ve learned is that Jungkook is good at keeping things from others even when he begs to know more himself.

The irony, it was annoying. By the end of dinner, you didn’t care to know what any of them had to say, much less Yeaun who everyone continued to remind you was his ex that they all loved dearly. They were saying it for a reason, like if you wanted to take her place and be with Jungkook who belonged to a group of people who won’t let outsiders in.

“Well at least she’s pretty,” you remember being told.

“I’m sorry,” was the first thing Jungkook said after dinner but you didn’t bother to acknowledge him. Instead, you led the way to his truck so he could take you home.

The car ride was so eerily silent that it felt deafening. He tried and tried to talk to you but you just ignored him, not caring at all for whatever might come out of his mouth and he can’t really blame you.

“You lied to me,” You said finally, staring holes into his dashboard.

“I didn’t mean to,” Jungkook admitted, “Everything I’ve said to you is true.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and looking out the dark window, “Just take me home.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook reached across the middle console for your hand but you crossed your arms over your chest and shifted away from him even more, “I’m sorry, we should’ve just gone somewhere el—“

“Look, it was never going to work out anyway so just take me home and we can both go on with our lives because clearly we’re nothing alike at all,” You said bitterly, “I was just dumb enough to believe we are. It’s been a long day.”

He wanted to argue but for the first time since he’s met you, he’s left silent. He’s a coward, he’s aware of that now and it felt sickening to realize it finally. He’s always been the type to do what he’s told, follow the plan his parents have set out for him and this is the first time he’s realizing how much he hates it.

When the truck pulled up to the front of your house, he began to unbuckle his belt, quietly saying, “I’ll walk you to the d—“

The car door slammed shut in the middle of his words and although he knew it was better for him to give you space, he just couldn’t. He couldn’t let you walk off on him without trying to really hear him out—just let him get his thoughts together. As pathetic as it sounds, Jungkook feels like a kid again. He feels anxious to be ignored or scolded.

Without a care for gentleness, he swung his side door open to the large truck and got down to follow after you, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t realize they would be home and if I did I wouldn’t have invited you over. I just wanted to spend more time with you.”

“That’s not the problem, Jungkook,” you said back to him, “The problem is that you’re so secretive about everything and fine, whatever, you don’t have to tell me but don’t act like you want to know anything about me then if I can’t expect the same.”

You released a sigh at his silence, turning away, “Go home.”

Your front door slammed in his face shutting him out and he could see people staring through the window; probably overhearing everything and he wanted to disappear. When had things gotten so complicated for him?

He missed the days when he didn’t have anything to worry about but now that he’s starting to see the people around him more clearly, he’s realizing he doesn’t like it at all.

✧

It took you days to think about Jungkook again, mostly because you wanted to ignore him and he was making it easy for you. He has only messaged and called a couple times before he got the hint that you don’t want to talk to him and gave up.

You can’t tell if you preferred that or wished he kept trying but you had to move on. The two of you weren’t dating, you hooked up on a boat before realizing his family are pretentious assholes and wanted nothing to do with him now.

You know he’s not his family but at the same time these are people he surrounds himself with and if he was attracted to someone like Yeaun, there was no way he was into you too. You barely know her but you know enough to see that you’re nothing alike.

“What are you looking at?” Hoseok asked, looming over your shoulder.

“Apartments, I still can’t find anything good, I think I need to go home for a few days and do some in-person tours,” You told him with a sigh, scrolling through listings, sitting alone in the beach themed living room that looked fresh out of a cape cod magazine.

“It’s not a quick commute,” He said, “Besides, I already said you can stay with me till we find you a place, there’s no rush.”

“I know, but there’s nothing better to do,” You said with a shrug.

“It’s called avoiding,” Hyeri said, sitting on the edge of the couch, “So Y/n’s probably not gonna come back if she leaves now. You’re mad at Jungkook.”

“No, I’m not,” you rolled your eyes, “That’s over and I haven’t done anything but laze around all day. I need to get my shit together.”

You just want to go home.

“What’s up with you? You’ve looked mad all day,” Jimin pointed out as he mindlessly dug his feet into the sand. He’s dragged Jungkook out after days of not seeing him but his friend couldn’t care less about the beach or hanging out with him. He actually didn't want to hang out with anyone.

“Is it the thing from the other night?” Jimin asked like it was so simple, “Yeaun was talking about it, so you’ve introduced your new girl to the family and it didn’t go so well?”

“Jimin.”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really my friend?” Jungkook asked, sitting at the bottom of one of the net posts, squinting up at the sun.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been around since you were in diapers, you’re like a brother to me,” Jimin said with a laugh, “I just don’t agree with some of the decisions you make.”

“Like?” He pressed for more.

“I don’t know, I just think you have a lot going for you and lately you’ve been acting like you don’t,” Jimin said, shrugging, “You passed the Bar Exam a while ago and instead of going to your dad’s firm you’re wasting time at Jin’s. You don’t answer the phone when your family calls and you ignore your friends for…”

“Say it.”

“For some chick you don’t know,” Jimin scoffed, “I don’t get it. It’s always been you and I, Chaehi and Yeaun. Always. Since we were kids and suddenly you break it off with one of the only girls who’s been here for you and find someone new to entertain yourself with. It’s weird.”

“Asshole,” Jungkook rolled his eyes, kicking off the ground and leaving his friend behind. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he just wanted to be alone.

Were you really just some girl? Is that what everyone thought? Yes, things had been incredibly easy with you but did that mean you weren’t anything more than a fling? As dramatic as it sounds, every interaction with you has been probably the best he’s ever had.

You’re funny, pretty, smart, and so much more than he ever imagined. You pulled him in and pushed him away in the best way possible. Of course it’s been strange getting rejected but you do it in a way that tells him to keep going. You were always there to listen to his obnoxious flirting and when he did decide to tell you anything about himself, you didn’t judge.

He’s so stupid for not doing the same. He wanted you to open up to him because he wanted to get closer to you but he didn’t allow himself to do it too. It was unfair so he understands why you’re mad but he can’t stand it.

He wants to call you but would you want to listen?

Jungkook found himself walking toward the boardwalk hoping the bustling energy from midday was enough to distract him. He thinks you remind him of something different, being somewhere different where he didn’t have to worry so much about what he did or who he was with. Jimin’s right that lately Jungkook hasn’t been doing anything to be apart of his family’s plans for him. He’s kind of been trying to live in the moment and clearly that wasn’t so bad. That’s how he met you and besides, it’s not like he hasn’t been thinking about his future. He just doesn’t see it here in this small town where everyone knows his name. He sees himself somewhere far in the city where he could just blend in with everyone else and do what he wants to do, be with who he wants to. It’s you, it’s seriously you.

You’ve opened up his eyes a little and he hates that his lack of honesty has pushed you away. He can’t even blame it on the uncomfortable dinner because if he wasn’t such a coward, he would’ve done more. He can’t deny that there’s something up with him and he has no doubt in his mind that you have something to do with it. Barely knowing you has done so much more for him than the people he’s known all his life.

Your best friends wanted you to forget about your plans on leaving, knowing you too well to believe you would come back. You’re not the type to do so. If you set your mind on leaving, even for a short time, you wouldn’t come back especially knowing you could run into Jungkook whenever. Maybe you were a coward too because all you ever wanted to do was run away when things get complicated and the last thing you had wanted was for this trip to get that way too.

They dragged you out of the house for a late lunch that you weren’t even hungry for and as a way to distract you but it did the complete opposite of that. Instead, you were brought to that restaurant you came to with Jungkook and the same server who you’ve seen now talk with a girl Yeaun was always around. They were friends and it should’ve been the first sign that you would never get him. You were never part of the plan around here, you were a step back to everyone involved with him and it made you bitter.

How’d you catch the attention of someone so unavailable?

“Come on, I haven’t bought a single thing here, I’ve been too busy working on my tan,” Hyeri said, pulling you along behind her to a clothing stand of sundresses, “We’ve got a few more weeks here, I think it’s time I fit the vibe, right?”

“Yeah,” You told her, looking through the rack of dresses absentmindedly. You wandered away just a little, to a table filled with jewelry and ran your fingers over certain metals and gems. You weren’t thinking much on what was going on around you, too distracted choosing between gold and silver to notice the person standing yards away looking stunned.

For the first time in over a week, Jungkook has found you again, on the beach, looking as breathtaking as usual. After all you’ve been avoiding him, he can’t help but hesitate. Does he approach you or not?

“Y/n?”

You looked up, brows furrowed slightly at who stood in front of you, “Yeaun.”

“Hey! How good to see you,” She smiled her usual tight smile that never quite reached her eyes. Up close you could see just how perfect she must seem to everyone from her height to her figure and tone of voice. She usually wore gold accessories and bikini tops or dresses. She was your perfect ‘Girl Next Door’ but if you paid enough attention to some of the things she said, you’d see how backhanded it all seemed.

“It was such a surprise to see you the other night. I guess none of us knew you were with Jungkook,” Yeaun said it so casually even if you could tell she was prying, “Where is he by the way?”

“Why don’t you ask his mother? The two of you seem close,” You tried not to sound bitter but you’re sure your body language gave away that you were. You searched for Hyeri who was looking at dresses on herself in the mirror and Hoseok left to get snow cones so once again, you were alone in her presence.

“Yeah, sorry about that, our parents go way back,” Yeaun said with a wave of her hand, “It’s a small town, y’know. Everyone knew we were high school sweethearts and when we got engaged everyone was so excited. You can imagine their surprise when we broke it off—sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about this again. I’m sure Jungkook has said enough.”

“It might sound strange but he doesn’t bring you up at all,” You told her, failing to say how you haven’t talked to him, “I guess he got over it a long time before anyone else did.”

“I guess so,” her stupid smile once again, “I like you, you’re good for him and I’m sorry if his family seemed closed off. They’re kind of exclusive with who they bring around. They don’t want just anyone around their sons. I’m sure you can see why, Jungkook is perfect, right? A lawyer in the making, athletic, kind…”

“Silver or gold?” You asked, holding up two different sets of earrings. She blinked in surprise, choosing one and trying to carry on, “What I mean is, he’s the whole package so everyone wants him but he also has a lot of responsibilities. If someone isn’t able to stand behind them all and support him… maybe they’re not the right fit—especially if they won’t stick around.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, setting the earrings back down and smiling, amused by her audacity, “Who broke it off with who?”

“It was mutual.”

“Doesn’t sound like it was,” You said with a smile, beginning to walk away from her, “But don’t worry, I don’t usually like competing for someone’s attention. I guess I didn’t realize you did, so good luck.”

“Meaning?” Her eyes narrowed.

“Meaning, you’re wasting your breath talking to me because I don’t care what you have to say,” You said sweetly, “But it was so nice seeing you again, hopefully next time we’ll have something new to talk about.”

With that, you left her behind, nearly walking past Hyeri on the way, “Where you going?”

“My phone’s dying, I’m going the house,�� you told her quickly, continuing to leave before anyone else could run into you.

“What’d you say to Y/n?” Jungkook asked, pushing his way through the crowds of people, getting to the stand too late and watching you walk away.

“Nothing,” Yeaun raised her hands in feigned surrender, “I was just catching up. Why so worried?”

“Where’s she going?” Jungkook asked Hyeri, ignoring Yeaun who called for him.

“To the house?” Hyeri said, confused by whatever she missed but she couldn’t even ask when Jungkook practically ran after you.

You cut through the beach instead of taking the long route down the street. You walked farther and farther away from him but he never stopped.

“Y/n! Can we talk?” He asks, catching you by surprise but you didn’t even act like it. You merely threw him a glance before walking faster.

“I’m kind of in a hurry,” You lied, stepping over the grassy parts in the white sand where you could see more residential properties.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am, I should’ve been more up front from the beginning but I swear I didn’t keep things from you to hurt you,” Jungkook said, not stopping his pace even when he can see your house in the distance.

“It’s fine, I’m over it,” You told him, not turning back again as you looked up at the back deck of your house. You still walked closer to down the shore than the trail but you would get there soon.

“But I’m not, I… can’t stand the thought of you being done with me,” Jungkook said honestly, “Since I’ve met you all I can do is think about you and I’m kicking myself over letting you find things out in a hard way. I don’t like the way you were talked to and I should’ve said more but I didn’t and I regret it so much.”

“Jungkook, I don’t care,” you groaned, whipping around to face him, “I don’t care that you kept things from me. I don’t care that there’s something seriously wrong with your family or your ex fiancée. I don’t care if everyone thinks I’m not good enough for you and do you want to know why? Because it’s the summer and I’m not from here and it was fun to fool around in the moment but it’s too complicated now. I don't want anything to do with it. Are you getting it now? I want to go home and forget all about this.”

“You want to leave?” He asked, getting closer and closer, “And what happens then? We just never see each other again because I didn’t mean anything to you?”

“I guess if that’s how you’re seeing it—“

“Bullshit,” He scoffed, “I don’t care how long we’ve known each other or not, you want me just as much as I want you but you’re letting everything else get in the way. I’m sorry, I don’t know what else I can say or do to express that.”

“I’m leaving,” You argued, stepping away, “I’m going back to my normal life and you can go back to yours. Stop making this a bigger deal than it was.”

“What if I don’t want to? What if I think you’re the best thing to happen to me in a while and the thought of you just leaving doesn’t sit right with me? What if I say I don’t want this to just be a summer thing and I will follow you wherever you go if it means I get to talk to you more?” Jungkook kept going.

“Oh my god, Jungkook. Open your eyes! Join the real world, please!” You groaned, too frustrated to bother getting away, “We still don’t know much about each other, clearly. You live in this perfect little bubble with people who care about you and have plans for you. Why can’t you see that? Why are you wanting to throw that away for someone you barely know?”

“I’m not mad, I promise,” You tried to say, “Our lives are just too different and I’m ready to go back to mine—“

Your words were cut off by the rough pull into his arms. Jungkook’s touch was tender yet forceful, dragging your face toward his until your lips clashed messily and you kissed him back. Like a fool, you kissed him too despite everything you were saying.

It made your heart race, practically feeling his want for you and unable to help yourself from succumbing to it.

He can’t remember how long the kiss was, but long enough for his chest to grow heavy with a need to breathe that he had to pull away. His forehead rested against yours, “If you still want to leave… okay. I can’t make you stay but I really want you to, Y/n.”

You didn’t say anything, knowing you did want to leave. At this point it was more for yourself. No matter how harsh they were, they were right. You needed to get your act together and stop avoiding the problems in your life and that meant you needed to go home.

“And I promise that I’m going to see you again whether it be here or somewhere else,” Jungkook said.

FOUR WEEKS LATER

Jungkook was enamored by city life, he’s grown to learn about himself. Something about the tall skyscrapers and bustling traffic excited him like no other while other people hated them. Of course he missed the beach, surfing, volleyball, his friends… but this was for himself. He needed to do something on his own even if it meant doing something unimaginable but it was for the better.

He misses working with cars but he knows better. He put all that work into law school just so he could avoid it and do something else and he needed that to stop. Even if he didn’t work in his father’s firm, that didn’t mean he couldn’t get his foot in the door somewhere else.

After you left and all his distractions were gone, he was able to focus more on what he wanted to do. He got on his laptop to look at internships at other law firms and one day, in his endless searching, he found a small office to work in. It was in the city and it didn’t take him long to pack up his things and go to it. It started problems—of course— but it didn’t stop him, especially knowing you were somewhere here too.

You’ve barely talked since you moved back but he still misses you. He missed you and him on the beach or sailing in the sea. He misses making you laugh or roll your eyes and he wonders how you’re doing. He kept in touch with Hoseok and Hyeri after you left and when they followed suit at the end of vacation, he wanted to ask them about you but he knew better. He knows you weren’t just a fling but maybe one day you’ll come back and give it another shot.

“Iced Americano?”

“I didn’t order one,” Jungkook said as he sat alone at a table in a nice cafe. He didn’t look up until the cup was set down in front of him and when he was ready to tell the barista it wasn’t for him, he froze.

“I know, you don’t really give me ‘Coffee Drinker’ vibes but I figured it was worth a shot,” You sat down across from him.

“Are you stalking me?” He asked, dumbfounded and confused but more excited than anything. He couldn’t believe you were here, at the same place as him by chance.

“Well, I was going to ask the same, this is my usual stop before work and I’ve never seen you here before,” You said, continuing the conversation with him like it never ended.

Jungkook couldn’t help but smile, “Well, you see, I’m new to town and trying new places since this is on my way to work.”

“Is it?” You asked, “You must live around here.”

“As it turns out I do,” Jungkook cleared his throat, “It’s a recent move but one I don’t regret.”

“How are you?” You asked with a shy smile and flushed cheeks, the autumn air beginning to take over.

“Better now—after this coffee I mean,” he teased, taking a sip and scrunching his face in disgust.

You bit your lip in thought, “Actually um, it’s good I’ve run into you. I think there’s some things we should talk about but I have to get to work soon.”

“Well I still have your number, and we can always catch up over dinner?”

“Yeah, I’d like that,” You smiled nervously, standing up, “Tonight?”

That made his heart race, “It’s a date.”

::.

holy shit that took forever for me to update

idk how I feel about this but also after a while I think too hard on my work and can’t look at it anymore so please lmk when you think

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[shadowbriar]

Five Hargreeves - Back To You

Pairing : Five Hargreeves x (she/her) Reader Word Count : 2.8k Warning : Angst. Season 4 references. Synopsis : After one too many subway trips, Five's plan of temporal refuge extended as he met someone he refuse to lose. Notes : I refuse to acknowledge what happened in Episode 5 and 6 though I use the gif of said episodes. Don't come at me if you don't agree. If you like this story and would like to support me, please visit my kofi page and perhaps get me a coffee?☕

Living in a small cottage by the lake has never been in his cards. To settle down and watch the sun sets everyday, hearing the rocking chair creak as he takes a sip of his coffee. This was beyond anything he could ever hoped for, anything he could afford. He knew that this wasn’t the life he’s supposed to lead. Lord, this wasn’t even a life he owns to begin with. But with each second passed in this universe, Five finds it hard to drag himself back to that subway and return to his own timeline.

“Enjoying the scenery, are we?” She whispers as she sits on his lap, clinging her arms around his neck “You know, I could really use the help stuffing that chicken. It is afterall your special request.”

The boy raised an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t I be off of any chores since it is my special request?”

“Just because it’s your birthday, doesn’t mean you’re having a vacation, big guy,” She reasoned “We’ve only got two hands and this house is only getting bigger than smaller.”

The boy couldn’t bite his grin when he leaned in to kiss her. His heart swells. She was right. The house feels like it’s growing along with them. They might not have much, certainly far from the wealth his father possesses, but it was much more than enough. Having her was much more than enough.

“You know that I love you, right?” Five asks as he pulls away, his left hand still cupping her cheek as his thumb caresses her gently.

“I know,” She nods, smiling “But you can’t sweet talk your way out of kitchen duty, Mister.”

Five chuckles, standing from his seat as he carried her in his arms, “Alright, Missy, let’s see what this chicken fuss is all about.”

—-

The muscles on his cheeks were aching but he couldn’t fight the need to grin as wide as he could. He was happy, watching her carry that awful looking cake out of the oven. The icing that supposedly spelled ‘happy birthday’ was crooked, its colour pale compared to the bright fondant covering it. Thank God the candles were their only source of light, otherwise she wouldn’t even bring it out, he reckons.

“It’s ugly, I know,” She says as she lets it rest on the table “But it tastes better than it looks, I promise.”

Five shakes his head, disagreeing with her discouraging comments as he steals a kiss, “It’s perfect.”

“Well, go on and make a wish!”

The boy closes his eyes. His hands holding hers as he whispers his wish: I wish for this to last forever. Her squeals of excitement was music to his ears as he blew the candles. It is indeed the best birthday of his life.

“I’d ask but I know you wouldn’t tell me your wish.”

“Who said I made any wish?”

“You did,” She says as she helps him cut the cake “You make that little frown everytime you say your little prayer, do you know that?”

“I don’t pray, Love.”

“You do. Well, not religiously, but sometimes you do. You say your little prayer, your hopes. You whisper them sometimes, but most times you just close your eyes and do that little frown thing.”

Five raised an eyebrow, “Have you been watching me?”

“I might,” She teases “I mean who wouldn’t watch such a handsome man like you?”

The night continues as the couple finishes their dinner. Fulfilled would be such an understatement for what he feels right now. Everything he ever wanted, everything he ever dreamed of, is served right in that room. He wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

“So can I take a guess about what you wished for?”

“Really, Love?” He asked, putting down his glass of wine.

She shrugs, “We’ve talked about everything else, haven’t we?”

“You know, there’s a belief that if you say your prayers, it won’t happen.”

“Well, you’re not saying what it was, I’m just taking a guess what it’s about.” She argues, still persistent “And what’s so bad with it not happening? Do you really want it that bad?”

“I— Nothing, I just don’t—”

“What is it that you could wish for? What is it that you don’t have?”

“Nothing, I’m not saying that I want anything, I just—”

“Is it your family?”

Five pauses. It was as if he was stupefied. He hadn’t thought about his family in a while. Shameful of him, sure, but after one too many subway trips, he figured that a little rest shouldn’t be so bad. He just had to find a timeline where there weren't that many people shooting at him. Perhaps take a week or two to rest and gather his strength before jumping into another subway.

It just had to be her. The girl he bumped into right after he got out of the station. He remembers vividly the concerned look on her face when she saw him. He was littered with bruises, dirt and dust covering his body. He looked more like trouble than a lover yet she still found it in her heart to ask if he needed any help.

And here he was, feeling the happiness in his heart wither as the thought of his family returned to his consciousness. He knew that the universe is cruel, that he couldn’t have the best of both worlds in this lifetime, that he had to choose between his lover or his family. Some nights he wonders if his family had succeeded in preventing another apocalypse without him. Some nights he wonders if his family had found a way to another timeline. Some nights he wonders if his family were still alive. But most nights he tried his best to ignore these wonders. His family must have found a way to stop the apocalypse, or at least escape another one.

Taking a deep breath, Five reaches for her hands. Guilt and regret were evident on her face. He knew that she didn’t mean to sound as cruel. Perhaps it was the wine that made their blood more sensitive or that the fatigue of the day had clouded their minds. Either way he knew that they both would be sorry when the morning came.

“I love you,” He starts gently “I love you more than anything in this and every timeline.”

A tear left her eye. It was painful. To love someone you know doesn’t belong to you. To desperately grasp into the moments you knew would end anytime soon. To selfishly stay in a relationship that was doom from the start. Neither of them deserved this, yet neither of them wanted to let go.

“It’s been six years, Five,” She reasoned “As much as I love you.. We can’t keep living like this.”

“Time works differently there, my love. Six years here might only mean a couple hours there.”

“That doesn’t make it any less wrong for you to stay. Those couple hours might be the most crucial hours for your family. They might be fighting for their lives right now, they might be dying, for all we know! You need to come back to them, Five. You have to.”

Five forces a laugh, “Wait, what are you saying?”

She remained silent. Her tears were falling, biting her lips to conceal her tremble. A bitter feeling is brewing in his stomach now.

“Your family needs you and—”

“Okay, stop,” He stood from his seat with an offended look “Are you breaking up with me? On my birthday?”

She looks away, unable to meet his eyes.

“Goodness, you can’t be serious.”

“What choice do we have, Five? One way or another, you’d have to go back to your family. They need you—”

“And you? You don’t need me anymore?”

Her jaw clenches, “That’s beside the point.”

“No, that is the whole point, actually,” He argues, this time coming close to her “I love you, alright? Why is it so wrong for me to want to be with the person that I love? I’ve lived more than a lifetime alone, why can’t I have someone for once?”

“You don’t belong in this timeline. I—”

“I belong with you,” He cuts in “It’s not the timeline that matters, it’s where you are. I belong with you.”

If there’s anything she loves most about Five other than his gentle and caring nature towards her, it would be how adamant he is once he’s set his mind into something. There’s no doubt in her heart about the genuinity of his words. But as much as she’s grateful and touched over it, she knew that they could only spend so long before the guilt eats them whole.

She lets go of his hands softly, placing them on his cheeks instead. She admires him. The beautiful man that’s now standing in front of her with his heart on his sleeves, announcing his devotion to her on the day when he’s supposed to be the one showered with attention and love. His eyes were glossy, clearly conflicted.

“I love you, Five,” She whispers, gently caressing his skin as if it was their last goodbye “But I can’t keep you here, I can’t. I can’t keep you from your family.”

Five looks defeated, silent.

“Don’t you want to know what happened to them? If they’re okay? If they’ve figured out how to stop the apocalypse? Don’t you want to know?”

“I— I don’t know.” He answers “What I know is that I want to be with you.”

“I’ll always be with you, Love,” She reassures, kissing his cheek “I might not understand how this whole different timelines work, but I know that whichever timeline it is, whatever universe we live in, I will always belong to you. I will always be with you.”

And he finally cries. His tears flowing and wetting her palms. His heart shatters, finally succumbing to the guilt he’s tried so hard to bury and forget. He misses his family, he wanted so badly to get back and pick up where he left off, but would it be worth it? Would leaving everything here be worth it? Would leaving her be worth it?

“We’ll find our way,” She reassures, pulling the broken man into her embrace “You’ll find me in your timeline. Maybe we’ll meet at the grocery store, or at a bar, or perhaps at another train station.”

Five chuckles a little, letting a shaky breath as he asks, “And if we don’t?”

“We will,” She says firmly, giving a little space between them so they could gaze into each other’s face “I’m too much of a troublemaker and you’re too much of a problem solver for us to not meet. It’ll be too hard to ignore each other with our nature, Love. We’re bound to meet each other, in any timeline, in any universe. Trust me.”

The boy forces a smile. He leans in, kissing his lover gently as if she’d burst into petals if he pushed too much. Her hold around his neck feels different. Like she wasn’t looking for support but giving one instead. He could feel her trembling a little as his hands pulled her closer by the waist. Her heart is breaking too, as much as his is, but they knew that it’s inevitable. It’s only a matter of time before time pulls them apart and it certainly would be much more painful then.

“I’ll find you,” He whispers “I promise.”

—-

Canada is certainly much colder than home. Five rubs his hands and blows some air to his palms in hope to gain some warmth, but it’s obvious that the only comfort he’ll find in this weather is to get in Viktor’s bar and ask for some drink. That is, if Diego could start the car and get them going.

“It says here that Viktor’s bar is only five minutes by foot,” Klaus says “Who wants to run to the bar with me?”

“No one is getting out of this car!” Diego says in frustration, irritatedly trying his best to start the engine “We’re going to get to his bar together, in this car. That’s the whole point of a family road trip. We go to the bar by car, not by foot!”

“Yes, but it’s freezing here, Diego! The heater is not even on!” Alison argues.

“Well, it won’t be unless the engine is on.”

“No shit, Luther,” Ben says “I vote to run.”

Lila raises her hand, “Second to run.”

“No! No one is getting out of this car!” Diego yells once more, hitting the steering wheel frustratedly “I just need to—”

And by God’s miracle, the engine turns back on. Though their trip would soon reach its main destination, the bicker done by the family persists. The coldness of Canadian weather and how the heater broke almost twenty kilometres ago has made the seven heads’ temper raise. They really need to get to Viktor’s bar before they start to kill each other.

“I’m out of here,” Five announce as the car gets into the parking space of the bar. He space jumped inside, finding himself on one of the empty stools “Good to see you, Viktor.”

“Five,” VIktor greets, a little startled but his smile grows “You’re here. Where are the others?”

“Still figuring their way out to get here. Can I get whiskey on rocks?”

“On it.”

Five taps on the wooden table as he waits for his drink. His heart was content, as much as it might mean now. Their plan to stop the apocalypse worked. Viktor managed to take the marigold off of Ben before the Cleanse happened and now they’re trying to get back or rebuild their life. For once they finally managed to stop the apocalypse from happening.

Right after they succeeded in preventing the cleanse, Five found himself running to the subway station. He could still feel his feet burning from how fast he tried to get back to the station, wanting to jump in the train and go back to her timeline, but once he got there, the station vanished. There was no trace of it, no matter how many times he tried to run around and look for it. The subway is gone. She is gone.

Perhaps it was the price he has to pay for saving the universe. One’s happiness in exchange for the lives of millions doesn’t seem to be a hard sacrifice to make, but it’s still a tough pill for him to swallow. He knew that she would be proud. That she would hug and kiss him for doing all the hard work in saving the world. But the more he thinks about it, the more it stings for such touch would only be as good as a dream now.

“You ordered whiskey on rocks?” A voice asked, breaking his train of thoughts.

Five’s mouth went agape. He couldn’t tell if he was daydreaming or if this was some sick new power he gained from the marigold, but she was there. Standing right in front of him with a glass of whiskey in her hand.

“Viktor said his brother ordered whiskey on rocks, I assume that’s you?”

“I— Uh, yes,” He stammers, getting off the stool “You’re here.”

Five couldn’t believe his eyes. In his heart he knew that they would meet again, that somehow the universe would let him keep both her and his family, but he never expected that it was true. He never expected that he would meet her again. Not this fast, not this way.

“Sorry?” She asks, raising an eyebrow “Are you okay?”

“Y-Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” Five said, shaking his head and taking the glass “Thank you.”

The girl smiles. It was a different smile than what he’s used to seeing. There wasn’t much love in her eyes, but he wasn’t in the position to complain. The girl he’s staring at and his lover might be the same person but she’s yet to know him here. She’s yet to know that he’s hers. She’s yet to know that he loves her. She’s yet to know that he belongs to her.

“Sorry, but have we met before?” She asks, still staring back at him “You look very familiar.”

“Uh, no, I don’t think so,” He lied, offering his hand “I’m Five. Five Hargreeves. Viktor’s brother.”

She took his hand, telling him her name, “I didn’t know Viktor had a baby brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not really his baby brother. It’s— It’s complicated.” Five could feel his cheeks burning like a little boy, bashful “It’s a long story.”

“You mind telling me about it?” She asks, leaning on the table “I’ve got time. I love hearing stories.”

“I know you do,” He says with a big smile “Well, where do I start..”

[roosterforme]

Too Much to Lose | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Leaving for deployments had always been rough, but then Bradley met you, and the time apart and risk involved made the ache even stronger. But nothing felt quite as isolating and scary as acknowledging that he had to leave his pregnant wife with an uncertain future. Now more than ever, he had too much to lose.

Warnings: Angst, panic attack, mentions of smut, pregnancy topics

Length: 2300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

Bradley hated that he felt like he was going through the motions. You'd been clinging to him all day long, your eyes always on the verge of tears. His bags were packed, his flight would leave tomorrow morning, and there was nothing left for him to do at this point except wait. Wait for your tears to spill over. Wait for one last look at you for who knows how long. Wait for the official start of another deployment.

Getting hard for you was not the problem. Your lips were on his body, and his name was the only word you seemed capable of saying. Nothing ever felt as good as your touch, and you always smelled sweet. Best of all, you were carrying his baby. But the doubt still crept in, even as his body rocked against yours, even as he filled you up. Because for Bradley, this felt exactly like those months when you and he had been desperately trying to get pregnant. It felt like the two of you were focusing on an uncertain outcome instead of each other. 

"I love you, Roo." 

You had just uttered the most perfect words in your state of bliss, but he couldn't fully accept them. Why did you love him? How the fuck could you? Your hands came up to caress his face, and he was completely helpless to do a god damn fucking thing besides come for you.

"Oh god," he grunted, practically crying as you kissed his scars before gradually going limp beneath him. You were smiling as you rolled onto your side, but instead of joining you for one last cuddle, he made his excuses to retreat to the bathroom. 

Bradley splashed some cool water on his face and examined himself in the mirror. All he saw was someone who didn't know what he was doing. Someone who wasn't good enough for you. He hadn't felt this way a few days ago, rather he'd been absorbed with shopping for the baby. But the fear started to creep in around the edges today, and now it felt like it could strangle him if he let it.

Leaving home in this state could only spell disaster, but he couldn't shake it. At least when he finally managed to walk back into the bedroom, you were asleep on his pillow with one leg under the blanket and one on top. You could always make him smile, but this time when he did, he thought about what would happen next if he didn't come back. What would happen if he was no longer here to claim that pillow as his own. 

He checked his will a few days ago, and the thing was ironclad. It all went to you. Every last penny and possession. But that wasn't what had him rattled. Everything was ten times more exciting and also ten times scarier with the baby on the way. He had too much to lose. 

He kissed your forehead and then your belly, and he pulled the blanket over both of your legs, and then he went out to the living room with Tramp at his heels. The house still smelled delicious; you'd made him Marry Me Rooster and lemon cupcakes for dinner. You always pulled out the stops when he was leaving, and he loved you for it. But what the fuck were you getting in return?

He grabbed his phone from where he'd left it on the kitchen counter. You and he had been sharing a plate of dinner while he started to consider what your life would be like without him. You'd have the baby here with you, but you'd really be alone. It was too hard to breathe while he thought about it, so he unlocked his phone and dialed the only person who wouldn't think he'd gone completely off the deep end with his request.

"Bradshaw. Shouldn't you be enjoying your wife before you fly off into the sunset?"

"Hangman," he rasped, walking to the couch and collapsing down onto it. "I need to talk to you."

There was a brief pause before Jake said, "I'm all ears."

Bradley cleared his throat, feeling like an absolute idiot as he said, "I bought a jungle gym playset for my backyard. A really big one. For the baby."

Jake hummed and said, "Right." And somehow that was enough to make Bradley keep going. 

"It's on pallets. On my driveway. There's an instruction book on top of my refrigerator. Everything should be here."

"Okay," Jake said quietly. 

Bradley swallowed and swallowed, his throat burning as he managed to force out the rest of the words. "If anything happens to me, I need you to... build it."

The only thing he could hear was Jake's soft breathing before he muttered, "Shit." 

Bradley ran his palm back and forth over his face as tears streaked down his cheeks. "Hangman. I need you to promise. I need that fucking thing in the yard."

"Yeah," Jake grunted. "Yeah, I promise."

Bradley sucked in a deep breath before he added, "And I need you to promise to take care of her. Take care of them. Make sure she knows you're around if they need something. Make sure she knows she can go to you and Cat for help."

There was no way to tell if the barely controlled sobs were his own or Jake's as he held the phone tighter to his ear, waiting for an answer. "Yeah, Rooster. I'll take care of Angel. I promise."

Bradley managed to choke out two words before ending the call. "Thank you." His phone fell from his hand onto the floor, and he curled up on his side. He thought about his dad. Goose died during a training exercise. If the most basic parts of Bradley's job could become deadly, he was honestly tempting fate at this point. Was this still the right thing to do? With a baby on the way? He wasn't so sure anymore.

Both of his parents were gone before he was an adult. If he made it just a few more years, he would live to be older than either of them had. This wasn't the first time he'd thought about that number, but right now, he was having a hard time catching his breath. 

Forty. Carole died when she was forty years old.

Thirty-seven. Bradley was just three years away.

"Fuck," he gasped as he rolled onto his back, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. He was nauseous and dizzy, and his chest was aching like there was something pressing down on him. Something heavy. He shouldn't leave you alone now, because he might never come back. He might never get to meet the Nugget who he was already so in love with. The baby might never have a dad at all, but at least Bradley got to have one of those for a short time. He could remember little bits of how it felt when Nick Bradshaw picked him up, and the soft laughter in his voice when he read a bedtime story. But the Nugget deserved more than that. This baby deserved everything, including a dad who was already so devoted that it hurt. A perfect mom and a loving dad, just like Bradley had once upon a time.

He could feel Tramp licking his elbow and whimpering, but he couldn't open his eyes. He couldn't move at all. He needed to catch his breath. He started counting in his head but couldn't keep track of how far he'd gotten. He wanted to meet his kid. He needed to.

"Bradley?"

Your voice was the most perfect sound in the world, and when you spoke his name, he had a visceral reaction to it. Then your hand was on his cheek, and the heavy feeling lifted away a little bit. 

"Oh, Bradley."

You replaced your hand with your lips, and he could feel how warm you were as your body came to rest on his. Your voice and touch invaded him in place of that terrifying weight on his chest. He felt safer because it was you. And the baby, too. When he opened his eyes, you looked concerned, and he hated to be the cause of that.

His voice didn't sound like his own, but you looked relieved as he said, "Sweetheart."

All he could focus on was the steady stroking of your fingers through his hair and your lips on his. "Tell me what's wrong, Roo," you whispered between soft kisses. "Talk to me."

He wasn't sure how long it took or how you managed to do it, but he ended up sitting on the couch with you curled up in his lap, ready to talk. Your cheek was resting against his heart, and his hand was under his old gym shirt that you were wearing, pressed to your belly. He wanted to tell you everything he was thinking. He wanted you to understand. But all he could say was, "I'm scared."

You nodded and hummed softly. "Me too."

When he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tighter, he asked, "Then why do I keep doing this? The last thing I'd ever want to do is scare you."

Your fingers found their way back up into his hair. "It's scarier this time, because of the baby," you whispered. "But you're an amazing pilot, and you love flying, and that's important, too."

"Not as important as you," he swore immediately. "Never as important as the Nugget. I just don't know if the risk is worth it anymore." He swallowed hard but let the tears slide down his cheeks again. "What if I burn in or get shot down before the baby is even born? Then what? Because I had no fucking clue until pretty recently how badly I want to be a dad."

"Come here," you whispered, your arms winding around his neck as you straddled his hips. You didn't seem alarmed by this conversation as you ran the tip of your nose back and forth along his cheek, letting him get used to feeling calm again. "It's all risky, Roo. All of it. We've talked about it before, and the facts are never going to change. But being married to you is worth it. Having to figure out how to potentially live without you is a risk I'm willing to take for the chance to be with you now."

"Fuck," he whispered, melting into your touch. 

"You're worth everything," you told him sincerely. "Getting to hold you right now is worth every bad feeling that might come later."

All he could do was nod, because he felt exactly the same way about you. But there was another layer. Another wrinkle. It was with a steadier voice that he managed to say, "I don't want to end up like my parents. Or worse... I don't want to miss the chance to meet the baby altogether."

You leaned away from him a little bit, running your knuckles gently along his cheek. "You promised me you would always fight for the chance to come home again."

"Always. Please, don't ever doubt that I will fight until my last breath, Baby Girl."

Now you had tears in your eyes. "I never knew I could feel this loved. And you've already given the Nugget so much of yourself through your notebooks and your little private conversations with my belly where you pretend I can't hear you." Bradley laughed as you touched his face and neck. You kissed his forehead and whispered, "He or she is going to be just like you. I can tell already. And you'll fight your way back home to find out for sure."

"I will," he promised, throat tight with love instead of fear this time. "God, I fucking adore you."

As he ran his thumb around the diamond in your engagement ring which once belonged to his mother, you said, "I know it."

Twenty minutes later, once Bradley felt almost completely calm again, you stood and disappeared into the kitchen. He missed your warmth immediately. It was late now, and he knew you both needed to get a good night of sleep, but you insisted you knew what else would make him feel better. Just when he was about to say that the only thing he wanted to do was hold you in bed, you returned with a plate and a steaming mug. 

You settled onto his lap again, so certain that was where you belonged and where he always wanted you. He took a sip of the tea while you nibbled on the lemon cupcake, then you held it up to his lips for him to take a bite. He ate half of it in one go, making you smile. 

When you took another nibble, he whispered, "I'll be home in no time. Back with my perfect wife. My family."

You gently shoved the rest of the cupcake into his mouth as you smiled and said, "We'll be here waiting for you."

You started kissing his scars as he chewed and muttered, "Let's go to bed, Sweetheart."

He was still thinking about his brief conversation with Jake as you stretched out on your back and let him run one big hand along your belly and down to your tattoo. Bradley touched you everywhere, memorizing the softness and flawless warmth of your body with the Nugget. He would come back home to this because he had to. He would be here to construct the jungle gym himself. There was simply no other choice. 

"I love you both."

---------------------------

That phone call between Bradley and Jake made me cry. Bradley has been dreaming of that jungle gym playset in the backyard for so long, he needs the guarantee that it will happen for his Nugget even if he's not there to see it through to the end. BG always knows what to do when he's struggling, but she's not going to be there to take care of him while he's deployed. In the next one-shot, we'll see how Bradley and Payback are holding up while away. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls and everyone who reads and interacts and makes this pairing so fun to write!

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[genderqueerdykes]

i love you so much i love the way u talk abt trans men and our struggles i makes me feel so seen especially bc youre older than me, i want to be understood , keep posting please

THANK YOU !!

i appreciate that. i feel like nobody (aside from some very cool bloggers on here) is advocating for trans men anymore. like unless its a trans man talking about these issues, it just doesn't happen. nobody advocates on our behalf for the most part. everyone just leaves us to the weeds. we have to help each other because most people just don't even understand what trans men and mascs want. like it's absolutely positively insanity inducing

when i was in college, at my pride group, there were just. no conversations about trans men. at all. in fact. at the time i was beginning to realize i was a trans man but i couldn't find support or acknowledgement of transmasculinity anywhere. whenever i would participate in the conferences, and large group meetings for LGBTQ communities in our part of the country... I was forced into queer women's groups. i did not identify as a woman or bigender at that time. i asked them where a female-to-male genderqueer person should go, and they put me in every queer women's group. i was not being considered trans. i was being viewed as a cis butch lesbian.

i was fucking pissed.

i learned the word transgender and what it meant and the example that was given was male to female, which was informative. i heard a lot of things about feminine transition, drag queens, cis gay male culture, bisexuality, pansexuality, and even asexuality. i want you to know that my college's pride group in 2011 - 2012 was more accepting of asexual people than trans men, which is insane for that time frame. i was actually allowed to help with a presentation on asexuality

i had to go online and research trans men, though. there were none to be found in the group that were at least out and able to talk to each other. we were all very stealth and nervous. my long term friends there ended up being gay men, lesbians, and a transfem agender person. i never met a single trans man there. it was heartbreaking.

i am tired of participating in transmasculine silence. i will not participate in self-erasure. trans men are trans. we're men. we're mascs. we NEED support, community, and care. we need to learn how to access transition resources, to comfort each other, to laugh with each other, to help each other find what clothes make us feel like ourselves, to say each other's names and pronouns, to see one's self in the other.

we need people who will protect us from misgendering. we need to be able to talk about our unique issues. we need to be able to talk about how yes, we experience misogyny, but also that transandrophobia is literally a thing. we need people who will stand up for femme trans men and gay trans men. we need people who understand that it's not okay to call every single trans man a confused butch lesbian and assume that they're a queer cis woman. trans men can be butch lesbians and that's okay. but you can't rip away a trans man's manhood for the sake of being a catty asshole. it's misgendering. it's transphobia. care about being transphobic. transphobia hurts all trans people no matter where it's directed. we all lose when you opt to deny trans men and mascs the right to community.

i am transmasculine. i am a trans man. i love being a trans man. i'm not ashamed. i'm not going back in the closet. i love my transmasculine brothers and siblings. i will not silence them. silencing them is a disservice to us all. i refuse to do that to us.

thank you for sending this ask. stay safe, take care of yourself, you're an important part of the LGBTQ community, don't let anyone take that from you.

[jaspvids]

The Diagnosis Of David

Disclaimer: I am by no means a mental health professional. This is just a meta-analysis.

What do we think of when we think of David?

His values of kindness. Optimism. Hope. Conviction. Passion. His drive to do his best every single day. The way he always makes an effort to reach out to others.

But also:

Attachment issues. People pleaser. Rose-colored glasses wearer. And at times, though the fandom doesn’t want to acknowledge it — Selfish. Unstable. Rude. Hypocritical. Kind of a dick.

See this video I made;

He’s complex, so let’s try to unpack him, and figure out what he’s got going on under that floof.

On David’s Childhood

David has been through a number of traumatic events in his childhood, most notably:

Witnessing Jasper fall to his near-death.

Finding Jasper, and being almost mauled by bears during the escape.

Clown school was apparently very bad, given the flashback-like reaction he had when it was mentioned. I’m unsure of his age when this occurred, however.

The fight with Jasper at the cave before they parted ways.

Losing Jasper. He says Cameron told him he was picked up by his parents, but I’m not convinced it’s not just his mind trying to erase painful memories.

As far as what we don’t necessarily see in the show, but can infer, David’s father was either not present or not great. He dreamt Cameron was his real father, as seen below.

And we all know Cameron is an awful father figure to begin with.

Yet, that’s better to David, apparently, than whatever he had at home. Which implies it was likely a pretty bad situation.

This can also be backed up by his attachment to the camp — growing up (and even now) it seems to be more of a home to him than his actual home.

That’s a home that hasn’t ever been mentioned, by the way. Contrary to Gwen, we know absolutely nothing about his family. He hasn’t talked about them once, if I recall correctly.

David is often open with emotions, if not wearing his heart on his sleeve. So why would he never mention his family and home?

We know why.

Even as an adult, he has retained this attachment to Cameron (who has in turn, continued to use this attachment to his benefit). He gets very excited about helping Cameron change in “keep the change” — because he needs to believe people who hurt him can get better. Otherwise, it’s too painful to bear.

The Loss Of Jasper

Part of his childhood, but significant enough to warrant its own section.

Jasper and David had a very interesting relationship. We’ve seen in the past that David was pessimistic, foulmouthed, and hot-tempered, directly compared to an optimistic, peppy, popular Jasper.

But then Jasper saw Cameron’s real self, and David received a modicum of praise for what was likely the first time based on his reaction. And so, they basically did somewhat of a switcheroo.

(David takes on many traits of Jasper after this experience, showing that he does admire him at the end of the day. I believe these traits are the foundation of David’s many masks.)

Despite the whole shebang, further episodes show us that they form a strong bond (or maintain one, we don’t know what happened before the first Jasper and David episode.)

What makes this friendship especially crucial in David’s development is that I believe Jasper was the first person to truly stand up for David.

David is, as we have seen, easily manipulated. Jasper picks up on this, and knowing Cameron’s just trying to use his best friend, tries to take Cameron down.

Jasper essentially died trying to protect David.

If Jasper hadn’t died, I don’t think David would have ended up as gullible and dependent as he is. If he had the more rational and realistic Jasper by his side during the rest of his developmental years, I believe things would have ended up much, much differently.

With Jasper’s death, there seems to be nobody else at camp who knows of Cameron’s crimes, or possibly, doesn’t want to speak out about them. Nobody to stand up for him. Nobody to redirect him.

So there’s nobody to stop the unhealthy-attachment-train from picking up speed.

Cameron And David’s Relationship

Cameron is manipulative and abusive towards David. This even becomes physical:

Despite this, David continues to idolize him as is seen in many cases of abuse. He works his ass off maintaining Cameron’s camp. Cameron’s approval makes or breaks him, because this is the man he sees as a father, unfortunately.

In addition, David is unable to let go of the hope that Cameron can change, because he’s convinced himself that deep down Cameron is still “good”, based on his skewed perception of him. And we all know how that ended.

But as Diane from Bojack Horseman once said —

And that is David’s problem — he wants so much for there to be a “deep down”, that there will be a day where Cameron showers him with praise and throws signed adoption forms at him, etcetera.

He judges Cameron not on who he actually is, but who he wants him to be. And so, the unhealthy attachment remains.

(Which is, of course, incredibly destructive to his mental health.)

Other Things We Know About His Mental Health, From Canon

We know he takes meds.

We know he has (sometimes dissociative) panic attacks.

We know he has been seen to suddenly snap, even to the point of violence.

My Final Conclusion: C-PTSD

(As the trauma has been not just one event, but many over the course of his life, and among other reasons, I believe CPTSD fits better than PTSD.)

David meets much of the criteria, most notably:

Lack of emotional regulation

Dissociation

Flashbacks

Anxiety

Guilt and shame

Distorted perception of abuser

Relationship difficulties

Okay this was long I’m tired good night.

[profound-imagination]

Flightless (Reimagined) - Azriel Shadowsinger

A/N - Okay so this is a rewritten version of this fic - I really hope you enjoy.

T/W: Very brief mention of S/A it isn't talked about in detail, the R word isn't used but please keep yourselves safe and don't read if at all triggering for you. Talks of violence.

W/C: 7.7K

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you took a deep breath, steeled yourself against the biting cold, and approached one of the most terrifying males you knew. You wanted to do this, wanted to learn. "Excuse me, Lord Devlon?" He took his sweet time before he looked at you, before he acknowledged you. "What is it, girl?" He asked, no malice in his voice, but it wasn't kind either. "I was wondering if it would be acceptable for me to join training with the other girls in the mornings?" The two warriors next to him snorted, the third sneered, "What use would you be, girl? Your wings weren't even clipped, I don’t think there's a word for what happened to your wings, your missing half of one and the other is bent all wrong." A shudder ran through you at the memory, the agony, the heartbreak of never being able to feel the wind again, of never being able to answer its call again. 

Devlon paled slightly as he looked past you and snapped at the three warriors with him to get back to work, the third still sneering at you as he went. "I survived sir." You told Devlon quietly, "I survived what happened to me, I'm strong enough to train like an Illyrian." He ran a hand down his face, and you felt someone approach behind you, you did not turn but your spin straightened, and your broken wings flared as best as they could. "You'll get yourself killed, you'll be thrown into the Rite, just like the others. Besides, we start training as children, your age is against you." You looked up at him and met his eyes, "I can do this sir, please, let me try." He opened his mouth to reply but another voice came from behind you. "Why do you want to train so badly?" You turned slowly only to be met by the Lord of Bloodshed himself. The General of the Night Court stood tall, proud, and strong. The wind was whipping the lose pieces of his hair around his face. Seven ruby red siphons glinted in the sun. You had never seen him up close, but from here you almost crumbled under how powerful he clearly was.  

"I was held down as they mutilated my wings, my Lord. I was helpless, I couldn’t defend myself, I didn’t know how to." You could have sworn the air thickened, and the sky darkened as the Shadowsinger and the High Lord himself approached. "Who took your wings?” Cassian growled, glaring at Devlon as he did. “Well, it didn’t happen here!” Devlon snapped at the General who bared his teeth in response. These two clearly were not friends. “It happened at the Ironcrest Camp.” You told him quickly, your nerves fraying due to looks being exchanged between the two males you currently stood between, the last thing you wanted was to be caught between two fighting Illyrians. “This camp has been good to me.” You continued. “Devlon.” The High Lord greeted, “Rhysand.” Devlon gritted back. “Why won’t you train the girl?” Rhysand asked and Devlon gestured towards you, “Look at her, she’s in no shape to train, to fight. She wouldn’t last an hour in the Rite.” Rhysand studied you, “What happened to your wings?” He asked, his star flecked eyes meeting your own. “This isn’t a traditional clipping.” He said and you shuddered against the memory. “Let me see.” He said as you felt his power caressing your mind and then there, he was, in the middle of that night with you.  

Ironcrest was cold. Colder than Windhaven. There was a reason it was known as the cruellest camp, and it wasn’t just the biting weather that gave it that reputation. You were making your way back to your decrepit tent after clearing up after dinner. The males, as usual had eaten more than their share, your own you had split between the few daughters of the camp. Those who were discarded as soon as they were born. Urchins the males referred to them as. Stomach cramping with hunger you prayed to the Mother you wouldn’t run into Malakai, the Lord's son, the Male with the cruellest reputation, one that was well earned. You felt a flinch on the edge of the memory, and you knew it was the High Lord sensing your fear as you continued to walk through the dark. You had seen Malakai at dinner, drinking heavily and you knew that would do nothing to improve the perpetual sense of rage he seemed to live in. He, for some reason, had taken a shine to you and not in a good or kind way. You could see your tent in the distance, so so close, when all of a sudden, a hand wrapped around your mouth, trapping any sound, another arm around your waist, trapping your already weak wings from the lack of flying, females were not to be seen in the sky here, most of which had already been clipped. Everything went black before you could react. When you woke, three males surrounded you, Malakai and his two, equally sadistic friends. They were a band of brothers, much like the High Lord, the General and the Shadowsinger. You weren’t sure why you thought about them in that moment, maybe because they’d be the only ones to save you, but they wouldn’t come and why would they? You felt Rhysand flinch again at the thought.  

“Welcome back, sweetheart,” Malakai crooned at you, you didn’t look at him, you kept your gaze downcast. A good, submissive female. “You’ve been struting around here unchecked for too long.” He said, “I made it quite clear that you were to be mine and seeing as you won’t submit on your own, I’ll take what is rightfully mine.” Fear shot through your entire being and your body went numb as his friends held you face down in the dirt. You couldn’t fight, couldn’t move due to their weight. Laying there helpless you cried as Malakai hacked at your wings. Not at the base as you had expected, as you had witnessed in previous clippings while on your knees, holding the unfortunate females hands, promising her everything would be okay. There was no one to do that for you as you felt your left wing tear, as you felt the right one break. No one to tell you it was going to be okay as he forced himself on you as his friends laughed while you were bleeding out in the snow. You weren’t sure how long you cried in the snow, naked, cold, broken, it could’ve been hours before the daughters you looked after came looking, before they dragged you as best they could back to your tent and sat with you. You weren’t sure if the Mother herself was watching over you because even though part of you died that night, you were still alive come daybreak.  

“Enough! Rhys, enough!” A voice like night personified spoke, close to your ear. You felt the cold seeping into your tattered dress as Rhysand retreated from your mind. There was a warmth at your back you noticed as you looked at the High Lord’s face and saw nothing but rage there. “Are you okay?” The same voice asked you, “It can be unsettling the first time he does that.” It continued, you craned your neck and saw the Shadowsinger, looking down at you and you came to the mortifying realisation that you were in his embrace, on the floor. You scrambled away from him, “I’m sorry my Lord, I’m so sorry!” You rushed out. The General let out a laugh and pulled you from the ground gently, setting you back on your feet and making sure you were steady before he stepped away. “She trains.” Rhysand spoke, authority coating his words, daring Devlon to argue with him. “If she wishes to train, to learn how to defend herself, she trains.” He said. Devlon was silent for a long moment. “With me.” It was not Devlon who had spoken but the Shadowsinger. “She trains with me, personally.” He wasn’t telling Devlon, nor was he asking permission, he was telling the High Lord that training you was going to be his task, and his alone. The two of them seemed to have some kind of silent argument if the tick in the Spymasters jaw was anything to go by before Rhysand finally said, “So be it Az, she trains with you.” You couldn’t fight the small smile that graced your lips, even if your cheeks were burning with embarrassment from having been in his lap only moments ago. “Thank you, Shadowsinger.” You said quietly. He didn’t smile, he just nodded. “Azriel, my name is Azriel.”  

As instructed you were outside one of the only shops in Windhaven at daybreak. The door clicked open, and a female slipped out. “Oh, you must be Y/N.” She smiled gently. You returned her smile, “Yes, are you Emerie?” She nodded in confirmation that she was indeed Emerie. She looked you up and down and you didn’t miss her eyes snagging on the half of a wing hanging from your left side. “So, you’re Azriel’s new project.” She mused. “His new project?” You asked, “He’s just training me?” You said. “He’s a wonderful male, kind, gentle, but he’s dangerous and he’s easy to fall for.” She warned, “Have you?” You asked, “Fallen for him?” You clarified and she laughed, “Me? No, I prefer the company of females.” She told you with a smirk. Oh, oh. “I have no plans to fall for him, I just want to learn.” You told her and she smiled gently again, “Just be careful.” was all she said as the most beautiful female you had ever seen appeared and gave Emerie a dazzling smile. She bounced up to you, “Hi, I’m Mor!” He voice was like windchimes. “Hello, I’m Y/N.” You smiled, “Ready to learn how to kick these males asses?” She grinned and offered you a hand as you nodded.  

Winnowing was a strange sensation, it felt like falling and staying still all at once and then you really were falling. The air left your lungs as you collided with something and then you were flying. “Welcome to Velaris.” You opened your eyes to see the High Lord and you were flying. A grin split across your face; it had almost been a year since you had last flown and the wind felt incredible against your skin. Rhysand smiled down at you as he did a couple of loops of the house below while you grinned before he eventually landed. You finally took in the view of the city he had called Velaris. “It’s beautiful here,” you breathed. “You should see it at Starfall.” A female spoke from behind you. Turning to face the voice you saw the High Lord with his arms around a beautiful female and you knew exactly who she was. You dropped into a courtesy, “High Lady,” you greeted. She smiled warmly, “Just Feyre is fine.” She told you, taking your hand and helping you straighten and regain your balance, the wind causing your wings to knock you off kilter. “Is that what you are training in?” She asked, referring to your tattered dress and your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “It’s all I have.” You admitted and she frowned at her husband. “It’s fine, really!” You insisted and she didn’t argue with you.  

“Are you ready?” Azriel’s voice sent chills down your spine. You took a deep breath and turned to face him. “I am.” You told him. “We’re training a level up.” He told you, “This place goes higher?” You gasped, “It does, all that’s up there is a training ring, slightly smaller than this one, Cassian will be training Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn down here.” You nodded at him, “Once you're caught up you are welcome to join them, Nesta has already extended the invitation.” You smiled, that was incredibly kind of her, you had never been included before. In anything. “Let’s go.” He said, walking towards the door leading into the house. The interior took your breath away. You had never seen the outside of the camps before and you couldn’t comprehend how grand this house was. “Do you live here?” You gasped, freezing in place and taking in the parlour room. Azriel turned upon hearing your footsteps hault. Due to your half a wing your steps had a telltale uneven sound to them. He allowed a rare turn up of his lips at the sight of wonder on your face. “Yes, with Cassian and Nesta.” You didn’t acknowledge his words, still taking in the rich wallpaper, the plus sofas and chairs. “I’m not here much though, I’m often away for work but whenever I’m in the city this is where I reside.” He continued, that seemed to pull you back to him, “Oh, am I keeping you from that?” You asked gently, concern coating your eyes, “I can train at the camps, honestly, its fine.” You rushed out. Azriel shook his head, “You aren’t keeping me from anything.” He inclined his head towards the door and you followed next to him, running your hand along the back of the sofa, “I’ve never felt something so soft!” You exclaimed; an amused raise of his brows was all he gave you in return. You struggled up the stairs, your wings leaving your gait uneven, stairs was something you hadn’t faced in a long time, and it seemed you could no longer go up them very well. Azriel didn’t push or hurry you like you expected, he merely kept a step behind you to catch you if you fell. You were exhausted by the time you’d reached the training ring but more than determined to prove yourself. 

Training that day was brutal. Not because you got hurt, in fact, Azriel didn’t touch you once, didn’t once enter your personal space. He had started you off with footwork. It was much harder than you thought simple footwork would be, but your uneven wings made life difficult as did the shadows that constantly danced around you, but you loved your new little friends and he couldn’t seem to call them back no matter how much he told them to leave you alone and find something useful to be doing, apparently they thought nothing was more useful than being around you. He never once lost his patience, he let you work through it. Let you pull yourself from the ground time after time with nothing but gentle encouragement. “Good,” he said at midday, “You did well today, we’ll do the same again tomorrow.” Sweat was pouring off of you by the time he was guiding you through a cool down. “How did it go?” Rhysand asked, appearing on the roof with the pair of you while you were lying on your back, fighting for your life trying to catch your breath. “It went well.” Azriel told him as you just stuck your arm in the air showing him a thumbs up. Rhysand just laughed at you. “Y/N, I have asked our healer, Madja, to take a look at your wings, just to make sure, if you’ll allow it?” He asked, your sat up, crossing your legs and looked at him, “Make sure of what? They can’t be fixed? Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” You told him, “I know they can’t, but I’d like to know if they are causing you pain and if we can do anything about that.” He said a kind smile graced his face and you found yourself nodding. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Azriel said shortly, his attitude suddenly switched, and storms seemed to be brewing in his eyes. “Okay.” You mumbled quietly, slightly scared of the person he now seemed to be. “Azriel.” Rhysand growled, “You are to leave it alone, do you understand?” He commanded, pure High Lord. Azriel levelled him with a look, nodded once and took to the skies.  

Azriel:  

“Half of one is probably still in that field in Ironcrest.” Azriel wasn’t sure why the words had gutted him like they had or why they were playing over and over in his head. He knew something tragic had happened to her, something unforgivable, Rhys hadn’t shared with him or Cassian what he had seen in her mind yesterday, but it had taken all afternoon, several glasses of whiskey and Feyre perched on his lap before his brother had calmed. All he knew was that when she uttered those words a rage like he hadn’t felt for a long time consumed him. He was to leave it alone. That was an order from his High Lord, not his friend, not his brother, his High Lord. So alone he would leave it, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t investigate, Rhysand hadn’t said anything about investigating. So, naturally, he flew to Ironcrest. He kept quiet and out of sight of the main camp and sent his ever-helpful friends to investigate. He didn’t fail to notice the littlest one, the one that usually stuck to him like glue, rambling in his ear like an excited child, the one that hadn’t left her side all morning was the first to dart away at his command.  

It didn't take long before he heard a howl on the wind, they had found something. The remaining shadows engulfed him like a swarm. When they cleared again, he was in a small clearing. It was the little shadow howling for him and upon his arrival it came shooting towards him. "Look! Look! See, Master! See what they did!” It was frantically whispering at him. “Show me.” He answered it aloud and followed its lead. The smell of blood hit him first. Something that didn’t make sense, but he knew on instinct it was hers. Her injuries weren’t recent, not recent enough for the blood to linger, not with the weather up here anyway but it was as if her blood had permeated the earth and his wings unfurled with the anger that once again hit him like a tidal wave. He spotted it then, lying in the grass, half of a wing. Just like she said. The cuts were crude, as if the instrument used was too blunt for the cartilage of the wing. He knew, from his experiance in breaking people, that once they had sawed through the bone, they had torn through the skin with their bare hands, like one would with paper. Even as someone who inflicted pain for a living, he couldn’t imagine. His knees gave out without his permission, and he vomited. “Kill them! Make them suffer! Kill them all!” The little shadow was hissing as it darted around his head. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand, he forced himself to his feet. “I will little one, I will.” He told it, “I’ll help!” It insisted, “You’ll all help when the time is right, for now, some of you stay here, find out who did this to her, keep me informed.” He addressed all of his shadows, the sneakier of which took their leave at his command. The little one floating by his ear like an unofficial second in command.  

Y/N: 

As predicted, there was nothing Madja could do for your wings, other than keep you comfortable with them. Which Rhysand insisted she do despite your protest that they had already done far too much for you by allowing you to train. You left of course, with ointments, tinctures, and vials for your wings. You arrived at training the next morning, aching but determined as ever. “Go on up!” Nesta told you with a smile and you give her your best smile right back. Gritting your teeth you pulled yourself up the stairs to the second training ring. Azriel wasn’t there when you arrived so you wandered over to the edge of the ring, bending at the waist to feel the wind over the wall. Your right wing, the broken one tried hard to unfurl and feel the wind but shattering pain lanced through you and it quickly stopped its movement. You stood there, a small smile on your face, hair whipping around you. “I like it up here, I can feel the wind again, I can hear its song.” You told Azriel who looked downright shocked you knew he was there as he emerged from his shadows. You let out a small laugh and put your hair behind your ear, “This little one gave you away.” You told him, showing you the little shadow curled around your ear like it belonged there. Azriel glared at it and it dived into your hair. “Don’t be mean to my new friend!” You scolded him and half of his lip twitched up into a smile. He came and leant against the wall next to you, taking great care not to knock your wings, Rhysand must’ve told him about the exposed bone and nerve on the left one that you wouldn’t even let Madja touch. “It must be nice to live somewhere like this, up in the wind.” You told him, “Do you miss it?” He asked, and you looked at him to find him already watching you, “Of course I do, but this is as close as I’ll ever get now.” You told him with a shrug. “Shall we start?” You asked. “Not yet, let’s enjoy the wind a bit longer first.” He said. From that day on, the first 45 minuets of training, Azriel dedicated to sitting on the wall, enjoying the wind. Slowly and surely, the Shadowsinger started talking to you more and more.  

Azriel:  

Six months later Azriel had found himself looking forward to morning training. It was no longer a motion to go through. He found he enjoyed Y/N’s quiet company. Enjoyed that she had never once been scared to call him out on his shit. It was her that had finally gotten through to him about Elain. He was repeating old patterns, and he knew that now. “You’re worth more than you think, Azriel. You deserve real and true love, mate or not. But this thing you have with Elain, this isn’t it. You know it isn’t. She’s using you and you know it, deep down you know it.” She had told him three days ago. He was furious. How dare she think such a thing about Elain about him? All he had tried to do is help her! He hadn’t shown up for training the last two days, but he knew from Cassian that she had and stubbornly carried on without him. Today, he was swallowing his pride and apologising for his actions. He had reacted badly at the time and she had flinched, she had been scared of him in that moment and it made him sick. He knew she knew he would never lift a hand to her in such a way, but she had still flinched, and he would not forgive himself for it, for the scent of fear that filled the air as he walked away from her in the middle of a session.  

When he made it to the training ring, she wasn’t there. So he waited, five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Emerie came bursting onto the roof, Mor on her heels, Cassian, Nesta and Gwyn behind them. “She never turned up this morning!” Emerie told him in one breath. “Mor and I went to her tent but she wasn't there either!” He met Cassians gaze and saw the worry there, the tick in his brothers jaw. Cassian ran these camps as best he could but even Cassian wasn’t enough to corral the old ways and he could read it on the General’s face that he was worried about what they would find. “Find Rhysand, meet me there.” Was all he said to Cassian before launching to the skies.  

Azriel wasted no time in heading straight for Devlon when he landed, his shadows skittering in all directions in their own search. The littlest one that she had become so fond of stuck with him, wailing in his ear. The commander met him halfway. “I know why you are here, Singer.” He said, “None of us had anything to do with it, we don’t know where she is, just that she’s gone.” “Truth, truth, truth.” The little shadow wailed in his ear. Azriel nodded once, “You and everyone here is to stay here, in the centre of camp and out of my way.” He said, his voice promising a cold death if they disregarded his order. Devlon nodded once and Azriel strode away. “Not here, not here, not here!” the little shadow repeated over and over again. “I know!” He growled at it, “Unless you know where she is, be quiet!” The shadow darted from his ear, up into his hair where it hid. He took to the skies again, circling the camp and the surrounding areas in slightly largest circles each time when Rhys and Cassian arrived. Rhysand took over sorting out a plan of action as the urgency and panic was starting to eat away at Azriel. He didn’t understand what was going on but the Spymaster almost suffocating with the frantic anxiety that was crawling up his throat and constricting his chest. His brothers shared a knowing look but did not enlighten him. He didn’t care. If it wasn’t her location, he wasn’t interested. The little shadow slid down his face, to its place curled round his ear and began to whisper once more. “Taken, hurt, taken, hurt.” “Where?!” He demanded and a swarm of shadows engulfed him, taking him to where they had found her.  

Azriel almost vomited again when he saw her, lying broken in the grass, in the exact spot where she had been broken a year prior. “Find out why she was at Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of shadows that quickly departed. y she’s in Ironcrest!” He snapped at a group of nearby shadows. Whether she came here of her own free will or was taken against it, the outcome was going to be the same. The torture master of the Night Court was coming out to play and they were going to suffer. People were going to die and this camp would be red by the time he was done. Her favourite little shadow was already racing towards her. Azriel had never heard a shadow scream before, and it was haunting. A sound he would never forget for as long as he lived. He would wake from nightmares to that sound, just like he did to the sound of the flesh on his hands sizzling when he was a child. There was no way to describe the state of her already broken wings, or the amount of blood she was covered in. “Help her! Master! Help her!” The little shadow was screaming at him as he fell to his kness beside her, checking her breath. She was still breathing, that was a start. He heard Rhys and Cassian land behind him. “Not again.” He heard Rhys mumble and he whirled on his brother, “What. Do. You. Mean. Again?” He demanded, Cassian was the one who spoke, “Not now, she needs us!”  

Azriel turned back to the beautiful broken female lying in the grass. “Y/N? Can you hear me?” He asked, her eyes flew open, unfocused, and wild. Unsure of who was in front of her she went to move away and defend herself when she screamed. He assumed due to the pain she was currently in. “Y/N, it’s me!” Her eyes focused for a second and softened upon seeing him, she croaked his name, and a snap took place deep within his chest at the sound of his name and all of his instincts got stronger, harder to fight and he knew exactly what had happened. “There it is.” Cassian said to Rhys quietly who nodded back at the General. She went limp again. She would’ve hit the ground if not for Cassian catching her, placing her gently back down, from the seated position she was in. “No, no, no, baby, stay with me!” Azriel said desperately reaching for her. “Rhysand, help me!” He begged his High Lord, “Madja is the only one who can help her now, we need to move.” Rhys told him, Azriel stood, cradling her in his arms. Shadows were racing towards him from the trees. He handed her to Rhys as gently as possible. “You can winnow faster than my shadows. Take her.” Rhys nodded and was gone.  

“In the trees, in the trees.” The shadows told him upon reaching him. He and Cassian followed, both males freezing upon finding a young girl, no older than 4, crying softly under a tree. Cassian made himself as small as possible when he realised Azriel was in no state to deal with this and met the little ones eyes, “What are you doing out here all by yourself little lady?” He asked with a gentle smile at the girl. “Are you going to hurt her?” The girl asked, baring her little teeth at Cassian, Azriel would have laughed if he had it in him. “No, we’re her friends.” Cassian told her softly, “She helped me.” She croaked, “They tried to take my wings.” Azriel ground his teeth so hard he thought they’d break. “Are you hurt?” Cassian asked and she shook her head no, “Just a little cut.” She said, expanding her tiny wing so show them a graze. “Where’s your mother? Your father?” her bottom lip wobbled at the question, “Dead.” She said as another fat tear rolled down her cheek. She crawled towards them, completely by-passing Cassian and holding her little arms up to Azriel. He complied, picking up the girl and resting her on his hip. “Please don’t take me back. I want to go with her.” She begged, placing her little hands on either side of his face. Azriel and Cassian had a silent conversation between them. There was no question, the girl would come with them, they would find her a good home. She'd never come back to the camps. “You don’t have to go back,” Azriel said as calmly as he could manage, “But you need to go with Cassian now, okay?” She studied him some more, “Are you coming too?” She asked, why this girl had picked him to trust he didn’t know, especially now, with shadows pouring out of him and death radiating out of his pores. Azriel nodded at her, “Yes Little One, I’m coming too, but I have to go to the camp first.” She nodded at him and let Azriel hand her to Cassian, “Ready to fly little lady?” He asked her with a grin, “I can’t fly yet. Don't know how.” She told him, Cassian ruffled her hair, “That’s okay, I’ll fly us.” He said. Azriel was already walking away, “Where are you going?” Cassian called after him, Azriel didn’t stop moving as he said. “To work.”  

Rhys was waiting for him on the edge of the camp. Fucking Cassian. “Do not try and stop me, Rhysand.” Azriel warned and Rhys held his hands up in mock surrender. “Stop you?” He asked, “I’m here to help you.” That stoppped Azriel in his tracks. “To hurt an innocent like they hurt her is one thing, to be handled diplomatically as they see no issue with their ways, ways that I am trying to outlaw.” He said, “To hurt my brothers mate? That is another and for that, they will pay.” Azriel almost smiled. “You knew?” He asked, “I had my suspicions,” Rhys told him, “But I didn’t know for sure, not until today.” Rhys’ eyes glazed over for a second. “Cassian is on his way.” Azriel didn’t get time to ask his question before Rhys carried on talking. “The girl is fine, she's with Mor, she met Cassian halfway, she doesn’t know her own name though, so you’ll have to think of one for her.” Rhys told him, “Me?” Azriel asked, “Shall we start calling you Daddy Az now?” Cassian asked as he landed beside them. Azriel shoved an elbow into his ribs. “What?! Cassian asked, “She was asking for you and Y/N the whole way back.” The three of them strode into the camp, their intentions clear. Illyrians began to scatter but none got far thanks to the wards Rhys had thrown up around the camp. Malakai and his friends were easy to find.  

Once the brothers had gotten their prisoners situated in that chamber far below Hewn City, Rhys and Cassian once again departed, off to tell the Lord of Ironcrest his son would not be returning, Azriel got to work. Their deaths would not be quick, would not be merciful. He would not start with their wings, oh no. That would be a day two or three job. He wouldn’t take them too early, wouldn’t let them think they had lost that what Illyrians held most dear at the start, it would take all the fight out of them and that’s what he wanted, a fight. So he’d start small, Azriel knew exactly where to cut to cause the most amount of pain with the least amount of threat to life, but they would not leave here, not alive, not whole, and certainly not through the door. When the males were groaning, bleeding and full of Fae Bane, he left them hanging by their wrists. To spend their night being tormented by the beasts below.  

“Absolutely not!” Mor said as soon as she saw him. “Go and bathe.” Azriel growled at her, the need to check on Y/N and the tiny girl they had found pressing down on him so much he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “That little girl has been through enough without you showing up looking like that and terrifying her!” Mor hissed at him pushing him down the hallway towards his own room. “They are both fine, both strong.” She told him and the weight lifted enough for him to get a breath down. “Come back when you’re clean.” She said, turning away and walking back down the corridor.  

Once clean, he returned. His bath had done nothing to heal the tension in his body. He found his family gathered in a tight circle, whispering amongst one another. “I want to see her.” He said, garnering their attention and Rhys nodded at him, gesturing towards the door. He and Cassian followed Rhys him in. Every muscle in his body froze when he saw her. “Before you lose it,” Rhys said, “What was done was for the best, for her health.” “For her health?” Azriel repeated as a question. “Yes, she already had a nasty infection setting in and-” Azriel cut him off, “Her wings are gone! Gone Rhys, completely gone!” He roared. “It was for the best Az, It really was.” Cassian piped up. “With the new damage caused and the infection setting in, she would’ve lost the ability to walk as well, Rhys and Madja made a difficult decision, but it was the right one.” Panic was crawling up his throat, “I can’t.” He choked out, “I can’t be here!” Gods he was pitiful, she deserved a better mate than him. One that would sit by her bedside until she woke, one that helped her through this, but Azriel could barely look at her. “Az!” Feyre called after him as he fled the room, “There's someone in the sitting room whose been asking for you since they arrived.” She said catching up with him and taking his elbow, steering him towards the sitting room.  

“Mama!” Nyx called out, running into Feyre’s legs as soon as he spotted her. She picked him up, placing a kiss on each of his cheeks, “Hello my love!” She greeted him warmly. “She doesn’t know how to play.” Nyx whispered quietly to his mother and Azriel didn’t miss the longing in the little girl's gaze as she watched Feyre interact with Nyx. So, he took a deep breath to steady himself and crouched down, opening his arms to her in invitation, he was going to do something right today. She hesitated, for only a moment before a brilliant grin split across her face and she ran into his arms. “How’s your wing, Little One?” He asked as he stood with her, she extended it to show him, “The lady fixed it.” She told him and began rambling on and on about the light in Madja’s hands and the tingly creams she had used. He took a seat on the sofa, the one he clearly remembered Y/N telling him was the softest thing she had ever felt. He was going to buy her 12. The little girl situated herself in his lap, still talking a mile a minute.  “They tell me you don’t know your name.” She looked up at him, her big brown eyes shining, “Never had one.” She said and his face softened, even in that cell, all those years ago he had a name. Something that belonged to him. “Why don’t we pick you one?” He asked her, so wrapped up in this child he didn’t even notice Feyre and Nyx slip out of the room. “Okay?” She agreed, sounding doubtful. “Hmm,” He mused, “What about Luna?” He asked and she screwed her nose up, “No you’re right,” He said, “Sounds like a hounds name.” She giggled at him, placing both her hands on his face again, he took a mental note to figure out why she did that. “Selena? It means the Moon?” He asked and she shook her head, “I’m not a moon! I’m a girl, silly!” He huffed out a laugh, “My mistake, Little One, Lennox?” He asked, “No!” He grinned down at her, “This is hard!” He told her and she nodded her little head in agreement. “Theodora, Theo for short?” He asked, “Does that mean moon?” She asked, “No, Little One, Theodora means Gift of God.” She pondered it for a moment, “What god?” She asked, he had no answer for that. Azriel knew in his bones that this girl was a gift of God, but it didn’t suit her. “I don’t think it suits you,” He said, “Marceline?” He asked and her face softened at the sound of it. He watched her mouth the word, testing it on her tongue. Her smile answered his question, she was Marceline, she was his Little Warrior. 

Nyx came running back into the room, “Dinner!” He announced and Azriel caught the excitement on Marceline’s little face, and he wondered when the last time she ate a proper meal had been. His family would have fed her when she arrived, but a proper dinner, he didn't know. She scrambled off of his lap, “I have a name!” She told Nyx proudly, “What is it?” Nyx asked, “Marceline!” She told him, Nyx seemed to ponder the name she had told him, “Marcie.” He said, “I’m going to call you Marcie.” She grinned at him, “Let’s go!” She said, offering her hand towards Azriel to hold on the way to dinner and he felt lighter than he had in days smiling down at the two children clasping hands at his side. He made a note to talk to Cassian after dinner about turning the rooms that they used to share into somewhere for himself and Marceline to reside seeing as Cassian moved into the main bedroom with Nesta what seemed like years ago and to ask Mor to go with him for clothes and toys for the little girl. He had thought they would find her a good home, but he knew in the very marrow of his being that there was no better home for her than here, with him and hopefully Y/N. Besides, she had a built in best friend in Nyx here.  

“See, she’s not scary!” Marceline told him days later when she had coaxed him into Y/N’s room. He sat stiffly in the chair next to her bed, Marceline perched on the bed next to her. Wishing he could switch places with her. She didn’t deserve to be lying there. Marceline had been begging him to come with her for days and he had finally relented. “She wasn’t scared at all, Azzy!” Marceline told him proudly, “She hit him real good until the second and third one turned up.” Azriel knew she had. He’d seen the bruises on Malakai’s face himself. “I want to learn how to fight like her!” She continued, “Nyxie says when we’re old enough we can train together but I told him we’re not going to the camps to train.” She rambled on, “He said his Daddy went to camp, with you and Cassie?” She asked, “We did, Little One, that’s where we met.” He told her, “So, Nyxie is going to be High Lord, I’ll be whatever you are and we need a Cassie!” She said and his blood ran cold at the idea of this sweet little girl being anything like him. “Nyx will be High Lord,” He agreed, “But you, you Little One, you can be whatever you want to be.” He told her, “But what if I want to be like you? A hero? Brave?” She asked him, “My Little One, you already are those things.” He told her. Movement in his peripheral vision snagged his attention. After three long days, she was waking up, “Marceline, can you go and find the others for me please?” He asked, she nodded happily, jumping off of the bed and gliding towards the floor, her little legs already running before he feet touched the wooden floorboards, “Be careful!” He called after her. Unlike the little shadow that had chosen Y/N and that had not left her side since he had found her, the one that had chosen Marceline was bigger and clung to her little wings most of the time, “Go with her, keep her safe, make sure she doesn’t run into an important meeting if Rhys is in one.” He told it. Realistically he could’ve called the others himself, but he was unsure of how Y/N was going to react, what headspace she would be in, and he needed Marceline safe and out of the way. “Keep an eye on her and Nyx, make sure they are playing.” The shadow shot off after the little girl.  

Y/N:  

You could hear Azriel. He was nearby and talking to someone, move, move move. You urged your hand and to your infinite surprise. It did move. He was here, he had come. You had heard everyone else over the past however long you had been in this darkness, including a little voice you didn’t know, but it rambled at you a mile a minute. “Y/N, come back to me.” Azriel spoke again and you wanted to shout at him that you were trying! Your eyes darted around the darkness and a shimmer urged you towards it. The closer you got to it the brighter it shined. A beautiful golden thread. You grasped it in one hand and pulled as hard as you could. You heard a gasp, then felt a tug back and with that your eyes flew open. “Azriel.” You said, except it didn’t come out as his name, rather a garbled mess of letters. “Here,” He said, propping you up gently with one arm and bringing a glass of water to your lips with the other and you drank deeply. “I need you to stay calm,” He said, “But I have to tell you something.” You looked up at him, “My wings are gone.” You said before he told you. He nodded, “I’m so so sorry.” He said, “If I could give you back the sky, I would.” His eyes shone with nothing but truth. “Is she okay? The little girl?” You asked and a dazzling smile graced his lips, “Ask her yourself.” He said as a little girl with big brown eyes came bounding into the room, a shadow chasing after her. “You’re awake!” She exclaimed. “I’m awake.” You told her as she scrambled onto the bed next to you, helped the last couple of inches by Azriel. “Are you okay?” You asked her, “Are you?” She replied, “I think so.” You told her. “I’m okay,” She said, “Just one little cut that's going to be a scar like Azzy’s! How cool is that?!” She asked, extending her little wing to show you. Azriel visibly cringed that this little girl thought anything about him was admirable. “What’s your name?” You asked her and she looked at Azriel with a big grin before turning back to you, “Marceline.” She said proudly, “Azzy gave it to me!” Azriel cleared his throat, “Well, technically, we picked it together.” She ignored him. “I didn’t have one before!” She told you.  

Azriel sent Marceline and her shadow to go and find Nyx to play with and he was seated back in the chair next to your bed. “So, you're like a dad now?” You asked teasingly and he shrugged, “I guess so.” You smiled up at him, “It suits you.” He smiled bashfully. “Do you know?” He asked, “Know what?” You said, confusion washing over you, “What we are to each other?” He asked gently, it was then you remembered the thread and you gasped. “Are we, Mates?” You asked and he nodded. “How long have you known?” “When I found you. It snapped.” He told you. You just stared at him, “I understand if you want to reject it, if you don’t want me, I’m hardly the kind of male you deserve, hel, a 4-year-old had to drag me in here because I couldn’t face it, seeing you, looking so lifeless.” You cut him off, “Azriel?” He stopped talking, “Are those three males hanging in a dungeon somewhere, bleeding and wishing they’d never been born?” You asked and he nodded dumbly, “Of course they are, they laid hands on you, twice. You no longer have wings so neither do they.” He said, your smile clearly took him by surprise, “Then you are exactly the male I deserve, I see you, Azriel, all of you and I’m not scared.” You said softly, “Let’s just take it a day at a time, see where we end up.” He smiled, “A day at a time.” He agreed.  

[crowsoundsonly]

dr. barnes

pair: fbi instructor!professor!bucky barnes x fem!student!reader

word count: ~6.5k

summary: you ask for some advice from your reclusive and very attractive professor.

warnings: teacher student relationship so slight age gap but i had pictured it being less than 10 years, super soft bucky, smut at the end (~1.3k), fingering (f rec) but not super descriptive, crime scene descriptions, descriptions of blood, some christian/religious references at the crime scenes, (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this one held me hostage for weeks. i literally could not stop thinking about it. do i have uni exams this week? yes. but did i spend my time writing this? also yes. i hope you guys like it !!

“Explain the killer. What does he do? What motivates him? How would you catch him? A thousand words printed by the next class. Have a good weekend,” your professor, Dr. Barnes, announces with a nod, cueing the shuffling of laptops and bags belonging to FBI trainees eager to get home on a Friday afternoon.

You load up your things, your mind still thinking about the brutal crime scene photos shown on the slides of the lecture today that made your stomach turn over. While you know you have chosen to be at the FBI, you can’t help but wonder sometimes what you are doing there. Your degree in psychology and doctorate in criminology has led you to the FBI Academy, but your mind still swirls when the most horrible acts of violence are placed in front of you. You chalk it up to you retaining your humanity and sanity, so you are not exactly upset over the fact. It just makes your job more difficult.

Dr. Barnes’ class is always the most brutal, but it is by far the most fascinating class you have. It does help that your professor is the most fascinating part, being very good looking and extremely private. He shares very little personal information, telling you only that he used to work homicide at the police department before beginning teaching. You notice that he does not talk to students often, simply giving his lectures, packing up and leaving after the sea of students flood into the hallways.

You are curious about him, about what he is like when he is not lecturing, and figuring that you have little to lose, you decide to come back after your classes to ask for some help. 

…

“Dr. Barnes?” you call out as you step into the lecture hall that is still lit, leaving you to believe that someone is there. You take a few more steps and find your professor sitting at his desk, photos piled around, staring intently at the laptop in front of him. He makes no movement to acknowledge you, his focus completely locked onto his work.

You walk all the way up to his desk, repeating his name which does little to deter him. You reach a hand out and give his shoulder a slight squeeze, causing him to jump in his seat and look up at you, eyes wide. 

“Sorry, Dr. Barnes. I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

At your words, he scans your face, recognition dawning on his features. 

“Sorry, I didn’t hear you,” he says quietly, his eyes focusing on the books you are holding in your hands. 

“It’s okay, Dr. Barnes,” you assure him.

“Is there something I can do for you?” he trails off a bit at the end of his question, asking for your name in its absence.

You fill in your name and explain, “I just have a question. I’m writing a paper for another class and was hoping that you could give me some insight on the topic. I’m really just looking for another perspective.”

“Of course,” he says as he leans back in his chair. There is not another chair, so you take to sitting on the edge of his desk.

“The paper is about female serial killers, and I was wondering what you think the most common traits and motives are. We have discussed some examples in class, but I wanted to ask what your experience has been.”

He thinks for a moment, taking his glasses off and rubbing his eyes. “They usually work in health care professions. They’ll, um, they will be married or have been married before. They usually kill to improve their situation, so they’ll target people they know, usually men. But not all women,” he stops and looks up at you before continuing to explain a case he had while working homicide where they investigated a series of killings that followed the signs of a male killer but ended up being a woman. 

Dr. Barnes runs a hand through his hair when he finishes, leaning back in his chair. You can’t help but notice how good he looks in this position and at this angle. His dark hair tousled and glasses twirling between his thumbs, you think about how it would feel to reach out and feel his hair between your fingers. You school yourself, your face becoming hot at the idea. He is your professor, and you would do well to remember that. 

You continue the conversation, asking him questions and prodding for more insight. When you figure you have taken up enough of his time, you bow your head a bit and begin getting up from your place on the desk.

“Thank you for your help, Dr. Barnes. I really appreciate you taking the time.”

He nods in acknowledgment, a small smile adorning his lips which you watch perhaps a little too intently as he says. “It was nothing. I’m glad I could help.”

You begin walking toward the door of the lecture hall but are stopped by your name being called out.

“Would you actually mind taking a look at these pictures? I’d like to know what you see.”

You turn back around. The look on his face is one of curiosity. You wonder why he would want to ask you, and part of you wants to believe that it is because he wants you to stay, but you know better. 

“Sure,” you shrug, making your way back to his desk. “I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, though”

“Just take a look. It’s not a test, if that’s what you’re worried about,” your professor says, standing up to hand you the crime scene photos.

They are gruesome, but you don’t know what else you could have expected with Dr. Barnes. You examine them all the while trying to ignore the way he leans over your shoulder as you fail to concentrate. You are so close that if you took a single step back, you would be flush to him. 

Pushing those thoughts away, you focus your attention on the photos, flipping through them, noticing the odd blood splatter near the baseboard that doesn’t have a body laying anywhere near it. 

“What would make the killer climb on top of the counter to shoot someone, get down, and move the body?” you think out loud as you turn your head to look at Dr. Barnes. You notice how close your faces are and let out a breath at the discovery. “Dominance?” your voice is more shaky than you wanted it to sound.

“I was hoping you could tell me. My guess is they were waiting there, but it still doesn’t make sense,” he says, looking past you and to the picture you are holding. You look back down as well, grateful you did not make eye contact, the idea of the intimacy of it alarming.

“If they were standing on it, that would make sense, but the angle doesn’t really fit. It seems as if they were waiting for them to get home, and they sat, swinging their legs, completely calm and casual about shooting this person,” you pause, mulling over your words before saying, “Maybe they even knew this person. The proximity to the counter could mean that the victim was comfortable enough to approach them, and that the victim was unaware of what was going to happen.”

He hums in agreement in your ear, and a feeling of satisfaction washes over you. Turning back around, you hand the photos to your professor and take a step back. 

“I think you may be right,” he says with a nod, a small smile again creeping onto his features. You make eye contact and keep it, somewhat entranced by it.

“I’m glad I was able to help,” you smile. “Thanks again, Dr. Barnes. Have a good night.”

…

You anticipate going back to classes on Monday, knowing that you have to attend Dr. Barnes’ lecture. You don’t know if anything will be different after the night you spent talking to your professor. Part of you knows that nothing should be different. While there are only a few years between you, you are still his student.

But part of you wants things to be different. The entire weekend, you could not get out of your head the image of his face so close to yours or the sight of him as he leaned back in his chair, legs casually falling open. 

Dr. Barnes is not in the lecture hall when you arrive for which you are grateful. You settle into your seat and wait for the lecture to begin by fiddling with your laptop. When your professor does come in, you notice that he combed his hair today, letting it fall neatly over his forehead. The plaid shirt he wears still doesn’t match his suit, but you find it charming. He slips his glasses on and begins teaching.

The whole lecture you try valiantly to focus on the subject, but you fail rather miserably, unable to think of anything but how you stood right where he is, your back a foot away from his chest with him humming in your ear. It is going to be a long term if this is how every lecture is going to go.

You are brought back to reality when Dr. Barnes makes eye contact with you. He smiles which you quickly reciprocate, then he turns around, gesturing to the screen before anyone notices.

It is definitely going to be a long semester.

…

Weeks go on with you and Dr. Barnes smiling at each other from afar, both of you knowing that you would be playing with fire if you do anything more than smile. But the longer you go simply smiling, the more you want to do something about it.

And one day, he does something about it. On your way out of the lecture hall, Dr. Barnes stops you, calling out your name. You walk over, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

“I’ve another case I’d like your opinion on. Do you have time tonight to take a look?” he asks you quietly so as to not draw the attention of the students still exiting the room.

“Yes. Here at 7:30?”

He nods, making a flash of eye contact which you return with a smile. 

…

You make your way to Dr. Barnes’ lecture hall, your stomach roiling with nerves. You have thought too much about him, fantasized a little often for you to not think about it when you talk to him. The soles of your shoes click on the tile as you walk the hallway. You take a deep breath and open the door.

Dr. Barnes is reclined behind his desk, crime scene photos in his hand as he flips through them intently. At your entrance, his head flicks up to find your figure approaching his desk.

“Hey, thanks for coming,” he says as he stands up. 

“Hi, yeah. It’s – yeah it’s no problem, Dr. Barnes,” you manage to get out, tripping over your words more than you would have liked. Another deep breath to collect yourself. “What can I do to help?”

He leans against the front of his desk and reaches behind him to grab the photos he was examining before. You take a few steps closer to grab them from his outstretched hand.

“A recent set of murders. It’s odd to say the least,” he starts, watching you intently as you study the photos. 

The scene is horrifying, blood smeared across the walls, not as blood spray or splatter, but in an image. A lamb. Your mind spins as you look through more of the pictures, each of them showing blood splashed on the walls. You wonder what the killer did in order to get that much blood. There is too much for it to have come from just one body.

“How many people were found dead?”

“Only one,” he answers, leaning in to help you find the image of the body heaped over the table. You can’t help but notice everywhere his body touches yours, how his breath flutters against your neck, but you cast those thoughts away to focus on the case at hand.

“There had to have been more. There’s too much blood,” you mumble as you cart through the images again, counting as you go. A beat passes as you take in the scene, contemplating before constructing ideas.

“What do you see?”

“In ancient religious practices, a lamb would be sacrificed and the blood would be sprinkled around seven times. There are seven places where the blood was thrown on the wall,” you pause to show him each one. You glance up at your professor who is looking on intently, urging you to continue. “Then you have the body placed on the table. It could be sacrificial. The lamb was supposed to be perfect. Without blemish. Maybe – maybe the killer saw this person as their perfect – their perfect lamb, as someone who would put them in favor with God. The sacrificial lamb is sacramental. Symbolic. Messianic. It’s an act of repentance. So what was the killer repenting from?”

A hum from Dr. Barnes pulls you out of your reverie and breaks your focus from the crime scene photos. You lean around his form to place the pictures back on his desk, your shoulder brushing against his arm. His eyes follow you before he brings a hand up to rub his eyes, almost like he is physically rubbing away the images.

“Do you think the killer knew the victim?” he asks quietly, bringing his hands down to meet your eyes.

“I think they could be family. Family or close friends. They were their savior,” you answer, matching his tone.

Dr. Barnes nods in agreement and in that moment, you can see that he looks like a man who is carrying the world on his shoulders. He slouches forward slightly, his hair strewn around his ears with bags under his eyes. It takes everything in you to not reach out a hand to touch his cheek, to rub a thumb across his lips as you have in your dreams.

Appalled by your own thoughts, you take a step back to give yourself space to halt that train of thought. The movement makes him stand, subconsciously trying to keep the close proximity between you. You don’t break eye contact, making the moment intimate. Intense.

“This case has been keeping me up at night,” he confesses as he brings a hand to run through his hair with a sigh, breaking eye contact. “I wonder where the other bodies are. I can’t seem to get my mind around it.” 

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” you say in nearly a whisper. “You’re good at what you do.”

“Thank you for your help. It’s some really great insight you had.”

“It’s no problem, Dr. Barnes.”

“Bucky,” he says quickly, rushing it out like he knows he shouldn’t let it pass his lips.

“Bucky,” you repeat, trying the name out on your tongue. 

You then fall into easy conversation, learning more about each other. You discover that Bucky has a PhD in criminology as well, and that he used to be a field agent but decided to leave it to become a teacher at the academy. Part of you wants to ask why, but you figure that it isn’t a conversation he wants to have while still getting to know you. He asks about your life, your family, your education. He is interested in why and how you landed at the academy. You answer him honestly, not inclined to hide away as you normally do when people ask those questions.

Bucky is surprisingly sociable. Based on his reclusiveness when it comes to students, you were not expecting to hold such easy and fun conversation. It makes you want to spend the whole night chatting, joking, exploring. But you know you should not stay. 

When the conversation lulls, you glance at your watch and ask, “Is there anything else I can do for you, Bucky? I think I might head home.”

Before you can even register what is happening, he takes a singular step forward and leans in to meet his lips to yours. In shock, you stand limply, not sure how to respond. You can’t deny that you have thought about this moment for weeks, dreaming about it, imagining what it would be like to kiss him. Bucky. But you hadn’t expected it to happen tonight.

And before you have time to respond, he pulls away, opening his eyes to look at you with wide ones of his own.

“I’m sorry, I–”

You don’t acknowledge his apology, instead leaning in to kiss him again, only you are prepared for it this time. He responds immediately as his lips move slowly over yours, testing the waters. Your hands are still by your sides, but his come to settle in your hair and over your arm. His kisses are controlled and soft, not pressing for more than what you are willing to give. A sigh flutters from your nose which ghosts over his cheeks.

Breaking away for a second, you open your eyes and find his already looking at you. The both of you know that you are playing with fire. You are still his student, and he is your professor, but the feeling of his lips on yours overrules any rational thought at the moment.

You give a slight nod and he takes that as a green light to kiss you again. Bucky pulls you closer, and your hands find their way around his torso, snaking up into his hair. It is his turn to sigh at the action which causes satisfaction to roll down your back in waves that has you leaning further into the kiss, opening your mouth ever so slightly. He takes advantage and kisses you deeper. A soft moan escapes you at the feeling, followed by a shaky breath.

He pulls away, a triumphant smile playing at his mouth. 

“I’m not sorry,” he whispers.

“Me neither.”

He kisses you once more, chaste and short, but it carries more meaning than any of the other kisses. It tells you that he has thought about this, too. It wasn’t a spur of the moment, impulsive decision. And it tells you that he plans on doing it again.

…

You settle into a routine with Bucky. After class on Fridays, he stops you on your way out and quietly asks you to come back to look over a case or his lectures. You always nod and come back at 7:30. 

The unspoken truth of the need for secrecy looms over your blooming relationship, but you are almost spurred on by the illicitness of it all. You haven’t done anything more than kiss. You haven’t even interacted beyond the walls of the lecture hall. You both know that it is safest that way. 

The more time you spend together, the more you find yourself falling in love with Bucky. His quirks make you smile. The way he perks up when you walk through the door makes your heart flutter in your chest. You have never felt so valued by anyone before. He trusts your opinions. He respects your honesty. You admire his dedication to what he does. You find his quiet nature calming. 

The list of things you love about Bucky keeps you up at night as you replay scenes of kissing at his desk behind your eyes as you fall asleep. Bucky kisses you like you are ice cream on a sunny day, slow and hungry like he savors every second of your mouth on his. He never presses you for more, only going so far as to set you up on his desk, pulling your hips to his, allowing you to wrap your legs around him as you wind your fingers in his hair. He always sighs when you tug at it which gives you the opportunity to kiss at his neck, your chin always getting scratched by his stubble. 

You love the routine. However, it makes it hard to concentrate during the lectures since all you can think about when you look at his desk is how good his hands felt on your hips and how his lips were pressed to yours when you were propped up on the wood yourself.

The semester continues on following your routine. If anyone suspects anything, they don’t say. You can’t imagine that someone hasn’t picked up on the soft smiles he sends your direction during lectures, and stragglers leaving class late on Fridays must hear his whispers for you to come back. 

Steadily approaching the end of the term, you begin to question how long your routine will continue. You will no longer be Bucky’s student. Could you actually date? Would he want to? Is that what you want?

…

The familiar tug of nerves settles in the pit of your stomach as you walk to class with Bucky — Dr. Barnes if you were still professional, but you figure that his lips have kissed you a few too many times and in a few too many places for you to call him that. It is your last class in his lecture hall, meaning that beyond today, you are free to make a decision as to whether this is serious or not.

In your heart of hearts, you want this to keep going. You love how you feel around Bucky. While you have not said it out loud, you love him. You feel yourself aching to hear him say it, too. 

When you arrive in the room, Bucky is already there, nervously flipping through crime scene photos while running his hands through his hair, creating a rather haphazard mess on his head. He looks more anxious than usual, and it takes everything in you to not to stride to his desk and ask him what’s wrong. 

Instead, you brush past him, trailing a quick hand over his arm, hoping that it has a calming effect over him. His eyes flash to yours as you cast a look over your shoulder, smiling at him. He sends you a tight lipped smile back as his shoulders shrug down from their place beside his ears. 

From your seat, you watch Bucky pace around a bit, obviously concerned about something. You rub your palms over your thighs when you discover them clenched in worry. You wonder if his stress has anything to do with the reason you were nervous coming to class today — the talk you know is coming tonight. You figure it does when his eyes glance over at you every few minutes before beginning the lecture.

You find yourself becoming sentimental about the semester as you look around the room, taking in the feeling for the last time. If you and Bucky do decide to continue your relationship, you can never take one of his classes again. If you don’t continue to see Bucky, you doubt you will want to take one of his classes again. You will miss his funny side comments that come out of left field. You will miss his mismatched suits and disheveled hair. 

The sound of Bucky announcing the end of class breaks you out of your thoughts, and the shuffling of backpacks and feet brings you back to reality. A stream of students thank Bucky as they flow out of the classroom for the final time. You stall a minute, waiting for the throng to exit out the doors before approaching your professor.

“Hey, Bucky,” you say quietly, clutching your laptop to your chest. 

“Hey.”

You watch him lean against his desk, hands pressed to the edge of the wood. 

“How are you doing?” you ask the question that has been waiting to erupt since you entered the lecture hall an hour previous. “You seem nervous.”

A chuckle that comes out more as a sigh escapes him. “Yeah. I’m fine. I, uh, I just didn’t get much sleep last night. How are…how are you?”

“Wistfully contemplating the end of my time in your class,” you reply playfully, hoping that the happy tone will hide the melancholy you really feel about the idea.

This elicits a laugh from Bucky as he looks at you through his lashes — a look that always has your knees threatening to come out from under you. You take steps closer and set your laptop down on his desk, then place your hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms to settle in his hands.

“Do you want to get dinner with me tonight?” you ask, the words barely more than a whisper. You want to catch them in the air, afraid that your proposal to disrupt the routine will be rejected.

But Bucky smiles immediately, thinking for a moment before saying, “Why don’t I cook dinner?”

Your stomach flutters at the thought of watching him in the kitchen. You nod in response.

“7:30?”

“7:30,” you repeat before letting go of his hands to walk out the doors, throwing a smile over your shoulder as you go.

…

The drive to Bucky’s house is quiet but comfortable. About halfway through the trip, your hands link together, resting on your thigh. You talk lazily, asking questions about each others’ days since your morning lecture. There is something so calming about Bucky. You trust him. You love him.

Every once in a while, your eyes flick over to watch him drive, eyes intently focused on the road ahead. He can feel your gaze, so he sends a glance over to you with a soft smile playing on his lips. 

“What?” he asks when you don’t shy away from his eyes.

“Nothing, Buck. I just like being with you.”

“I do, too.”

The sweetness of his simple confession does more to your confidence than you ever thought possible. You feel comfortable around Bucky. You need only be yourself when you are with him, and hearing that same sentiment from him gives you hope that he wants this to continue just as much as you do.

You squeeze his hand, at which he laughs softly, squeezing yours back, brushing his thumb over the knuckles on the back of your hand.

Gravel crunching under tires and the faint sound of dogs barking indicates that you have arrived at your destination. You open the car door and follow Bucky to the front steps of a small house on the edge of town. A large open field is situated behind his house, neighbors nonexistent. Given Bucky’s personality, you are not surprised to discover that he lives alone, away from people, away from the city. 

A flash of nervousness pricks at your mind, as no one would be around if Bucky shows you that isn’t the guy you think he is. But you trust him, and you trust him enough to accept your fate if it does prove to be your downfall.

The door creaks open, and Bucky flicks on the light. Two big dogs come bounding to greet you both, circling his feet until he crouches down to give them the attention they are begging for. To see Bucky with his dogs makes your mind go fuzzy and warm, the tenderness of the scene eradicating your doubts from before.

“Charlie and Duke,” Bucky says, showing you which dog belongs to which name, rubbing each of them affectionately before standing and grabbing your hand.

“They’re adorable.”

“They’re good dogs.”

He leans in for a quick kiss, the domesticity of it causing your breath to catch in your throat. He pulls away smiling, then tugs you into the kitchen where he drags a chair out from the table for you to sit on.

“Sit,” Bucky says with mirth in his voice.

You laugh but do as you are told. 

“I was thinking of making steaks. Is that okay with you?”

“Sounds great.”

You watch Bucky make his way around the kitchen, obviously having done this a lot. He looks comfortable. He catches you staring, meeting your gaze head on, an easy smile adorning his mouth before asking, “What are you smiling at?”

“You. I like seeing you here,” you say quietly. 

“Not as much as I like seeing you sit at my table. I’ve thought about this a lot,” he admits with his back to you as he throws the steaks in the pan. “I like being around you. I’m more comfortable with you than anyone else. You make me feel — you make me feel normal. Most people don’t do that. They don’t — they don’t want to understand me. My old friends can only think about who I was before I quit the force. They don’t — they don’t want to like who I am now.”

The words spill out of Bucky before he can stop them, opening up to you in a way that he has not before. He has let you in here and there over the months you have been spending together in the lecture hall, but he has stayed rather private even then. Not sure what to say in response, you simply move from your place at the table to stand behind him, wrapping your arms around his torso, resting your cheek on his back. You can feel him relax into your touch, and it is a comfort to you both.

“Bucky, I think I am in love with you,” you whisper into his shirt. His body tenses, the sizzling of the meat in the pan filling the silence. Your heart pounds in your chest as you wait for him to say something. Burying your face further into him, disappointment and embarrassment creeping in your stomach, settling heavily when he doesn’t say anything. When a minute that feels like an eternity passes in silence, you mutter a quiet, “I’m sorry.” 

You let go of Bucky and take a step back. He quickly takes the pan off the heat and whips around to face you, pulling you back to him, whispering your name. 

“I love you,” the words are sure and confident coming from his lips. “I know I do.”

He looks at you intently, not shying away from your eyes before leaning in and kissing you softly. You get lost in his kisses, the pounding of your heart racing at a steady quick beat. Bucky backs you into the counter where he cages you with his hands as you weave one of your hands into his hair, the other running up his spine.

“Stay the night,” he mumbles between kisses.

You pull away and nod, meeting his eyes again, kissing him once without breaking the contact.

…

Settling on his couch after laughing yourselves silly over the dinner table, Bucky is close behind you with bowls of ice cream in hand. He hands you a spoon before sitting down right beside you, pulling your legs to stretch over his lap. He runs a hand absentmindedly over your shins as the two of you eat your ice cream. 

“Why did you come talk to me that night?,” he asks between spoonfuls. “You didn’t really need my help. You knew everything I was telling you.”

You smile like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “I did need your help,” you assert before admitting, “but I also just wanted an excuse to talk to you.”

The sound of his laugh makes your heart flutter the same way it does when he looks up at you from behind his desk. 

“Hey, not all my professors are attractive recluses who deserve a starring role in my nightly fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasize about me,” he presses, the smirk on his face unlike any expression you have ever seen on him. He looks smug, proud, teasing. It makes heat flash to your core.

You hum but it comes out more as a squeak, your focus turning intently on the ice cream melting in your bowl.

“Do you want to know what I’ve fantasized about you?” Bucky asks lowly, grabbing the bowl from your hands, causing your eyes to lift to his. You watch him set it on the floor. Your heart begins pounding again as he moves to climb over you, settling between your open legs.

“What have you fantasized about, Bucky?” you ask quietly, voice shaky.

You take a breath when he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You open your mouth to deepen it, and he takes advantage, his tongue pressing to your upper lip. The feeling has your hips rolling and sighs falling from your throat.

He pulls away to murmur into your neck, “Every time I would sit on my couch, I thought about laying you down and kissing you until you can’t remember your own name.”

Your eyes are screwed shut as you tug at his hair, his words forming pools of heat between your hips where his own apply pressure. Your words fail you, only a whimper escaping you. His lips move along your neck, working their way back to your mouth, giving due attention to the places on the way that have you squirming beneath him. You hands tug at his shirt to slip your fingers beneath the fabric, skimming up his back, scratching lightly.

His kisses become feverish at the feeling of your nails down his back. One hand hooks your knee to pull your form even closer to his, hips slipping into place. You can feel yourself becoming wetter by the second, the slow circling of his hips against yours creating friction that has you moaning.

In one swift motion, his hands are gliding up your sides, taking your shirt with you. You lean up to help him before settling back down against the pillows. He sits on his heels to take his own shirt off which allows you to see him in the faint light casted by the lamp in the corner.

You notice a shining scar that extends from one hip to the other below his navel. Fingertips reach out to touch it, barely making contact before his own hand stills your movements. 

“Is this why you quit the force?” you ask barely above a whisper.

He only nods, his feelings of vulnerability silencing him. You aren’t disgusted by it. It doesn’t change how you see him. You don’t pity him. You are simply curious. And amazed at his strength. He survived whatever left him this scar.

“Can I see it?”

Bucky takes a fluttering breath through his nose then nods again. You climb to the floor, resting on your knees between his legs. You glance up at him and see his head lolling to the side as he looks down at you, eyes hazy and soft. His eyebrows are scrunched, letting you know that he is concentrated, but the dam of secrecy surrounding Bucky is breaking with every passing second.

Tentatively, you stretch a hand forward, your fingertips grazing the scar. His stomach flexes beneath your touch. 

No one has seen his scar since the doctor sewed him back up. He has a fear of pity. He knows that people won’t see him the same when they see the effects of what happened to him — of what was done to him. But he doesn’t see pity in your eyes. He sees awe and amazement. 

Without warning, you press your lips to his stomach, the intimacy of it rendering his mind blank. You hear him swear quietly which urges you to keep going. You kiss all along the scar, his hips, then upwards before you climb into his lap. You find his lips again and kiss slowly, surely, passionately.

“I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you, too.”

You share a few more kisses before he stands up, pulling you with him to his room. He fumbles through his dressers to find a shirt and pair of shorts for you to wear. He hands them to you, then rummages through the bathroom cabinets to find a new toothbrush for you to use.

You thank him after he says that he will meet you back at the bed. The calm and comfort of being with Bucky is undeniable. The domesticity of the night has your heart skipping beats. You quickly change and brush your teeth before making your way to his bed. Noticing books stacked on the nightstand on one side, you slip under the covers of the other, sighing contently when you settle in.

Bucky comes in a moment later with only sweatpants hanging low on his hips. He decided to not put a shirt back on, relishing in the freedom that being with you gives him. He doesn’t climb into bed immediately, but rather stands and looks at you for a moment, curled up in his sheets.

“What have you fantasized about here?” you ask teasingly, but your voice comes out thinner than you had intended. 

At your words, his tongue darts out to lick his lips. He approaches the bed slowly, kneeling down beside you. 

“I want to know yours,” he says, his voice husky and low. You bite your lip, your eyes widening. A shaky inhale.

Soft kisses line the inside of your knee, trailing a path up your thighs. You let out a hitched moan when he places a kiss to your clothed core, your hands winding themselves in his hair. You tug slightly, inviting him to come up to the bed with you.

When he climbs up, you lean back, your shirt riding up over your stomach. Wordlessly, you pull his hands to your body, his calloused palms caressing the exposed skin. He runs his thumbs under your breasts, causing you to arch into his touch. Bucky can’t believe that you respond to him so keenly. He barely touches you and you are curving beneath him, aching for more. 

His lips find your neck, behind your ear, sucking gently. Your hands pull his hips to yours, rocking steadily into him. You suck in a breath, gathering the courage to grab one of his hands to lead it to where you want to feel him the most.

Bucky follows your lead without resistance, kissing you softly in an expression of consent. He helps you pull your shorts off, then presses two fingers to the wet patch on your panties. The pressure has your hips jutting into his touch, overwhelmed by the sensation when his fingers push the fabric to the side.

Your hips move in circles with his movements, his lips kissing you through it all. Moans slip and tumble from your mouth, leaving you hiccupping in pleasure. The cords in your stomach begin snapping when he speeds up his ministrations, your body contracting through your release.

“You did so good, sweetheart,” he whispers to you as he helps you come down from your high. 

Your eyes are crimped shut, but after a moment’s respite and a few encouraging kisses from Bucky, you come back to yourself. You open your eyes to find him watching you intently. You smile lazily then breathe, “Your turn.”

a/n: yayayay !! thanks for reading this !! let me know if you want to be on my taglist :):) and here is my masterlist if you want to check out my other work ! and check out MY SLEEPOVER going on right now !!

[azure-cherie]

𝑷𝑨𝑪 : 𝑻𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇

Pile - 1-2-3

Please choose with your intuition. Only take what you can relate to as this is a general reading

🕊️Masterlist

🕊️Paid services

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1:

Hii dear pile 1 I hope yall have been well . No matter how much you like to be in the shades or how much you are of an introvert , did you know that you make n excellent leader , that under your guidance, finest of the lillies shall bloom . You might think that you ar a thinker but my dear , your gut feelings are stronger and lead you better , you better start acknowledging them , don’t lose your command on who you actually are , your gift can save you . You're well balanced , being a little more organised is something you really wanted to be for a long time, and you don’t have to sabotage yourself thinking youre not already , you are really doing good and you will continue to do it , sometimes its okay to leave room for unpredictability . You sometimes feel scared of things , get into the depth of this matter , is this coming from an older thought you have . Are you letting go of an important material prospect excusing saying its because you have been spiritually involved . For ex : even though you have to save up for the month , you tend to buy weed , just an example tho . Youre going towards something coz you think you like it , in this case it might be a relationship , but do you seee this person reciprocting or are just going mindlessly into the abyss , spirit wants you to take some time and evaluate your choices . Please don’t sabotage yourself into thinking that your struggles are less than anyone elses , recognise and accept that you have toxic parents and that life can go wrong . You bring people with so much clarity about themselves , like you are a start for spiritual awakening for people .you might have suffered a great loss and might be lowkey right now , but to lt you know , these people hold no grudge and judgements and they already love you , think youre confident and outgoing , this applies for family and close friends .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2 :

Hii dear pile 2 I hope yall have been well. You right now might have been isolated because you confronted someone for their ill doings , you did what should be done and it has left you alone and you might be confused about what has happened and why , but don’t worry this thing that has occurred is a building block to what you are becoming in the near future. You are really a loyal friend , do not worry about what others say or do. Youre very abundant and you draw so much inspiration from everything around you , what others don’t see , you see , you do it so well . You might be overusing your resources , to a point where you could face problems so be head on about where and how you are spending your money . You're intuitive , you might be a witch , someone from your blood line was one , you are also blessed with those powers . They try to give you signals through your dreams , learn to see the meaning behind those common looking words . You have achieved a lot , almost to the point of satisfaction , now you want to call people over and celebrate so mote it be you are a party girl and its amazing . Youre analytical , perfectly intelligent and logical and at times you feel shy to accept compliments but that’s just who you are so accept and cherish it . Lastly I get you might be obsessing over something and ignoring whats already there , already handed to you , don’t loose what you have because of a delusion .

❦︎𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3 :

Hi dear pile 3 , hope y'all have been good . You don’t know that youre in love , because of something that has happened in the past has lead you to close your heart , youree beautiful but broken , but I don’t see that as being much of a concern for you right now as youre very slef assured and satisfied with what you do , a change is necessary . For the other lot of you , this is a confirmation for you to get married , yes the love has carried on , don’t be afraid of commitment . You have a very good communication style and people value what you have to say . I also get that some of you might be dissociating bad, like not realising that something has happened to you , being one of those people who shut themselves when something happens to them . Open your eyes youre not what they made you , you will be what you choose to be , you think the damages are irreversible but you got a long way to go , chin up bestie . You have achieved my dear you must treat yourself with something , maybe velvet cake or cheese cake , that’s what I get specifically . Take a break and leave for a vacation alone you have worked so hard already . Some of you here are starseeds , indigo children , you should connect to your soul family , they are always rooting for you . If you are a person who stays in the middle of arguments in work area , its okay that doesn’t give you less personality , infact you are benefitting by being in the middle as most of the people in your work place are too opionated or too judgemental . Your focus should definitely be you always.

Thank you so much for reading i hope this resonates

love love 💕

[wpdarlingpan]

Ken really does give off Worshipper!Yandere vibes. He’s the type that would think you are literally flawless, the most wonderful and beautiful thing to ever exist and all he wants is for you to look at him

Ken x Fem.Reader

I wanted to expand on Ken so here is a short o little blurb

Warning: spoilers, fast-paced

Ken used to only have a good day of sterotypical Barbie smiled at him or even acknowledged him. That was until almost turning Barbieland into Kendom and taking over her Dreamhouse.

She of course told him to go find himself, make something of him that wasn’t associated with a girlfriend.

He really did try. For a whole 2 days.

That was until he saw Y/N Barbie.

She had been walking past him down the street when he saw her. It was as if a ethereal beauty dropped down from the sky. Well, some Barbie’s did drop from the sky, After all who needs stairs in Barbieland.

Y/N Barbie had a slight distase for the blonde Ken. After all he did brainwash all of her friends into something demeaning. But a part of her realizes he didn’t want to hurt them, he just want to be recognized. He was hurt and when someone’s hurt their actions sometimes aren’t led by logic.

“Hi Ken”

Ken stared at Y/N for a moment, frozen. He snapped out of it and quickly turned on his ‘charm’.

“H-Hi Y/N!” He smiled brightly at her as the girl in question gave him a polite smile and was about to continue on her way before he lightly grabbed her wrist.

“What are you up to today?”

“I was just going to go shopping. I want some new clothes for the party tonight.”

Ken immediately saw the opportunity.

“Can I keep you company?”

Y/N Barbie was hesitant. She heard the whole ‘you aren’t your girlfriend speech’ and she didn’t thing it was possible for someone to move on within two days. But a part of her was battling her, begging her to say yes. After all, Y/N never had a Ken.

“Um… Sure Ken!”

And that was the day everything changed between them two.

Ken followed her around the store. If she even admired it long enough he would grab it and hold it for her. By the end of the trip he had quite a few clothes in his arms but he wasn’t even tired. Only asking if you wanted anything else.

Then you two went out for food.

He took you to the fanciest restaurant in Barbieland. One that the Barbies and Kens would go to on dates which was quite obvious to Y/N but she couldn’t bring herself to mention it.

Then the two of you thought it would be a wonderful idea to go run along the beach. Of course Ken was all for it. He was of course a professional Beacher. The other Barbies, Kens, and even Allen so you guys together and were curious. All with the same thought

“Well that’s new.”

They didn’t mind all too much. Although Allen was slightly concerned. You are the closest person to him and he was worried Ken wouldn’t treat you the best. Of course they are friends, after all Allen is ‘Kens buddy and all his clothes fit him’ but it was a natural platonic instinct to be cautious

Next you shared a ice cream cone and even played a game of Volleyball. It was the perfect day, which was expected in Barbieland. Even when the world had changes it still found a way to be perfect for its inhabitants.

As the shining sun went down Ken finally drove you back to your own dreamhouse for you to get ready.

He had opened your door for you, grabbing your hand to lead you out, and walked you to the door. But he didn’t want to push it for once so he was about to leave. He couldn’t risk losing you like Stereotypical Barbie. Even though he was a lot more nervous for you than he ever was with her.

This time, Ken wrist was the one whose was grabbed.

“Would you like to come in?”

Ken could only stare in shock. Barbie never let him in. Y/N did.

“Yes.”

That was the single word that solidified Kens love, forever. Y/N was his and luckily, they don’t die. So it truly is forever.

[un-lawliet]

“Present.”

— in which Dazai wants to kiss you

part two here <3

“Osamu…”

Dazai lifted his gaze, his eyes narrowing at your figure.

It was cold.

The Summer, having prolonged its stay, pliantly welcomed the first cool breeze of Autumn, inviting the ember shafts of the moon a little earlier, cutting the day shorter and introducing the night before the clock struck nine.

And Yokohama appeared to come alive at night.

The streets bustled with crowds, lively and impeached with an alacrity one would expect to see when the sun was much, much higher in the sky.

Dazai found himself outside the Lupin Bar, leaving a half empty glass of sake idle on the cracked confines of the bar top, the crisp air steadying his somewhat dizzy state, un-fogging his senses and clearing his head.

Leaning against the bar wall, his hands in his pockets, an indiscernible look in his eyes as he watched the ever moving city around him.

It was moments like this when you knew his mind was elsewhere, reminiscing over memories in which you did not know, memories that left you except and puzzling over the glimmer of recognition in the depths of his eye.

Breaking his trance he regarded you with quiet solidarity, as if debating weither or not he should throw up his defences or continue to stare, an eyebrow raised in subdued acknowledgment of your appearance.

He didn’t seem shocked at your return, having been on a mission at the other side of Yokohama for a few days, you feel a sickly indulgence of disappointment in his lack of reaction, your shoulders dropping as you approach him slowly.

He probably knew of your return, he has a habit of knowing seemingly every action and it’s equal reaction before they are even taken, it’s a habit that leaves you uneasy at best, and terrified at worst.

Sighing, you join him against the Bar, leaning your head back against the bumpy surface of the wall.

He looks at you for a moment longer, and it’s as if you can feel him back away, creating an insurmountable distance between the pair of you.

In reality, you know he does not move, but at the sight of an ill placed smile stretching his face, you have never felt so immeasurably far from him.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” He grins, and it’s ugly for a man so devastatingly beautiful in your eyes, you hold back a grimace.

“I’m back.” You say simply, unable to look at him anymore, the footpath suddenly becoming the most interesting thing you’d ever seen before.

A street lamp flickers, the light momentarily dies leaving the pair of you in the dark for a split second before the light returns, Dazai glances upwards to look at it, you don’t even notice.

You don’t know why you even sought him out, your feet seeming to move on their own after Kunikida grumbled that Dazai had headed to Lupin’s Bar just after his shift at the agency.

You have a gift for him from your mission, you tell yourself, attempting to justify your foolish actions, ignoring the voice in your head that reminds you that you would have seen Dazai at the agency at some point the following day.

“You’re back.” He mimics, and he’s back to looking at you again, trying to understand your actions, trying to comprehend why you were currently standing outside in the cold, cold night with him.

“The mission was successful then I suppose?” His smile seemed less indulgent now, and if you were to look up you would surely notice how his body swayed slightly, a testimony to the tipsy feeling resonating in his chest.

You don’t however, your eyes staying downcast as you nod; mumbling about how it was more boring that anything, you hear him laugh at your admission, you hate how empty it sounded.

“Is everyone at the agency ok?” You ponder, clinging to the tail ends of a conversation you were slowly losing.

“You didn’t visit them before you came to see me?” Dazai questions an undeniable tease in his voice, you feel yourself flush.

“I did, it’s how I-” Found out you were here.

The words die on your tongue, refusing to go into detail of how you actively asked for his whereabouts about five minutes into your return.

“Hm?” Dazai coaxes you, although you’re certain he knew what you were about to confess.

“Nothing.” You mumble, your hands clammy, “I uh did, but I only saw Kunikida and Yosano so..” You trail off.

“Ah” He muses.

And in the back of his mind, he wonders if you were simply here because you felt like it, that you had no alterier motives, internally frowning at himself for his suspicions despite knowing you were part of the ADA, critiquing himself silently for falling into old habits that should have died when he left the mafia.

He supposes that maybe you just wanted to see him.

The breeze falls over you both and he’s moving to leave, you look at him again, your head cocked, holding yourself back from questioning, restraining yourself from clinging onto his hand and begging to follow him, indulging yourself in the warmth of other human.

The bar door opens, and for a brief moment you hear the drunken giggles and exclamations of careless patrons, before the door swings shut again, muffling the voices. It grounds you.

Dazai takes a few steps and then turns to face you, his face unreadable, before he tilts his head gesturing for you to follow him, you think your heart soars.

“You coming?”

And you’re pushing yourself away from the wall, nodding.

He doesn’t wait for you to catch up, and you find yourself walking at a pace slightly behind him, your hand subconsciously tracing the box in your pocket.

You wonder if you should give him his gift now, or if you should wait.

When you can’t decided you stay silent, choosing to speed up to level the distance between you both.

You have no idea where you’re going, simply following a man who’s actions you couldn’t begin to understand. He makes no effort to inform you of the destination and so you make no effort to ask.

Dazai likes to think when he walks, constantly scheming, devising ways in which he could encourage Atshushi to grow, or better yet, another way to end his life, and fail, over and over again.

A bitter cycle that infringes upon his thoughts like a bullet.

Tonight however, his thoughts circle back to you, and your silence, and how your face seems to glow in the dim light of the night. And he blames the alcohol that’s coursing through his blood, the last of his drink finally hitting him as he walks, dizzying him and rendering him in a state of concealed vulnerability.

“So.” His voice comes out steady, despite his tendency to slur his sentences when under the influence.

You look at him, gently urging him to continue.

“You’re hiding something.” He states, and you curse him for his intellect and damn observation.

You grip your coat tighter, eyeing the bulge in your pocket, defeat already coaxing you to reveal your intentions.

“I suppose.” You whisper, concluding to yourself that there was really no reason to hide the present from him, after all it was just a gift shared between two work colleagues, there was no need to plaster it with a hidden agenda.

Reaching into your pocket you timidly lift it out, his gift was wrapped, just like everyone’s gift from the agency, a pretty ribbon tying it all together in a clumsy bow. You feel foolish.

“I brought you something from my mission.” You explain, your eyes trained on his face.

And Dazai pauses, his steps slowing to a stop as he stares at the box in your hand, and you scramble to explain yourself, eyes wide.

“I-I got everyone from the agency something!” You stammered, “I just…wanted to give it to you.”

He doesn’t move for a second, his eyes moving between your flustered face and the present.

A car drives past, it’s headlights cause you to blink.

“Do you plan on giving them their presents in such an intimate manner as well?” His voice was softer, as if he himself is unsure of your answer.

His question makes you freeze, feeling as if you were caught in your own actions.

You whisper a tiny “No” and Dazai just nods.

And you hate how you don’t understand.

His hand brushes yours as he picks up the box, his hands are cold, you try not to shiver under his calculating gaze.

“You don’t have to open it now.” You mumble, willing yourself to look him in his eye.

Truthfully you hope he doesn’t open it in front of you, unable to cope with the silent weight of the consequences to your actions.

Dazai finally breaks eye contact to look at the bow, his finger going up to play with the flimsy material.

You brought him something, you had thought of him. Dazai, was unable to fathom how you could be so pure and act so well intentioned to someone with his past.

Did you not believe him to cruel? A man desperately trying to patch over his history with the excuse that he had changed. Changed from the eighteen year old who’s presence struck fear in those unfortunate enough to know his name. Who’s presence alone caused the death of the only person who-

Bitterly, he reminds himself that you had thought of everyone at the ADA.

Without a word he pockets the gift, that same ugly smile rippling his features yet again.

“How kind of you to think of me!” He exclaims, his voice far too loud for the quietness of the gesture, clapping his hands together in an enthusiastic display of himself.

The distance between the pair of you stretched for miles and you shake your head.

“I think about you plenty.” Your voice is hushed, edging on exasperated, because (although you would rather die than describe your complicated feelings for Osamu Dazai out-loud) you don’t appreciate being pushed away.

The moon appears to hide behind the clouds, leaving the street lights to fend for themselves. Their glow emphasising your features as he looks at you.

And Dazai wants to kiss you.

It’s a desire that materialises amidst the acutely awkward silence that follows your admission, it breathes down his neck and forces him to lose any and all words that might escape his lips.

He smiles, a bandaged hand reaching up to cup your cheek, your eyes squint; confusion, admiration and need seeping out from their sockets and onto your face, and Dazai, for once, is grateful for his ability to read people, to read you.

He wants to kiss you, but he doesn’t.

You lean into his hand as his thumb gently draws circles across the area just below your eye, your lips part, a question you will never ask bubbling in your throat.

The pair of you look at each-other for another brief moment before Dazai removes his hand from you and turns, hiding his expression.

“You’re cold.” He states, starting to walk, “You should go home.”

And you watch him go, your feet refusing to move, body overcome with a melancholy you only ever seem to experience around Dazai.

The moon peaks out from behind the clouds again, as if to ask if you’re ok. Illuminating both you and your surroundings like a blanket.

And you feel exhausted.

masterlist <3 or part 2 here :)

feel free to leave a request !

A/N: this was supposed to be fluff idk what happened- i think i started thinking of chapter in 109 half way through, i’m sorry ANYWAY hi bsd fandom ily ily ily and thank you for reading !!!

[detectiveneve]

How To Know If Your Evil Vampire Boygirlfriend Really Likes You (a meta on Astarion's manipulations of Tav deeper into the romance.)

Okay, this was supposed to be a response to this ask right here, and it got so long I decided to just put it in its own thing for slightly easier reading. Thank you again to the asker for giving me an excuse to go off the rails talking about THE BOY. This also got long enough that it needs. Subheadings. And it is [checks notes] 3.6k words long. If you're interested in skipping the act 2 Scene Breakdown and going straight for the character analysis of Act 3 specifically, you can jump to the uhhh 3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition) subheading.

Prefacing that this is just my personal interpretation of Astarion here, the game leaves several moments ambiguous on purpose & I'd be super intrigued to hear what anyone else thinks is going on in this rancid little lad's head. This became more of a process of breaking down what I think he's doing in each scene than anything else, so I hope it's interesting to... you? reader? Since it's a bit long-winded and a lot of speculation and interpretation on my part for his wild ass behavior.

(Also, I haven't played far enough with an ascended Astarion to properly break down the differences between both--he'll have his own playthrough for sure but since I haven't gone far enough in that path, all of this is with no-ritual Astarion in mind) (I also don't have screenshots for everything but hopefully that's alright. just trust me bro.)

Fair warning, I didn't proof-read this & I moved paragraphs around so if it sounds incoherent that's a feature not a bug. Now. Let's get into the EVIDENCE.

1. but did he mean the kisses????

So, before the hug scene, the game leaves us a bit of room to interpret the progression of the relationship. I kind of wish we had one extra scene to sort of solidify his growing feelings in the in-between period of his "I'm just sleeping with you to secure my safety here," era (pre-confession as we'll call it) and his "oh shit I actually kind of care about you," era (post-confession, pre-ritual), but I understand why it wasn't included. Game mechanics & cost aside, the space between these two periods is left entirely up to player interpretation, & has lots of room for HC up to each individual player & Tav.

To address the easiest examples the asker gave, the repeatable kiss dialogues are all ones I'm going to mark under "sincere." Mostly because those are all post-confession, and after Astarion has acknowledged to himself (& the player) that he doesn't want to do anything sexual, but presumably kissing is fine (given that he's enthusiastic about the kisses & will shut down sex/intimacy acts otherwise.)

There's not really a logic to him being slinky here, and I didn't interpret any of his post-kiss repeated dialogues as insincere, much more so playful or coy or cheeky. The voice acting is subtle here, but I found it to be much more playful than his annoying little, for lack of a better word, purring "hello, beautiful" etc etc in act 1 / early act 2. Also, all these dialogues stay the same after the ritual happens, and your romance has been solidified in the grave scene, where he wholly says:

"I feel safe with you. Seen. And whatever the future holds for me, I don't want to lose that."

^ Not a lie. So I think we can mark off those particular dialogue as sincere.

In act 2, there aren't really a lot of places for Astarion to actually get into his manipulative tendencies. He overtly needs your aid with Yurgir (Repeat after me: thank you for helping me. It was very kind.) so he doesn't really manipulate you at... all...? in my opinion? Act 2 shows you his most sincere moment yet in the confession/hug scene. He is not lying. He is more honest in those moments than he has been in the entire game, and it shows in his wording, his body language. He's uncertain of himself, maybe. He doesn't know what to make of the situation yet. He says as much to Tav when you ask him "What are we?" and he says:

"I don't know. But isn't it nice? Not to know. You're not a victim. Not a target. Not just one night it's better to forget. But then... whatever in the world could you be?"

He has no reason to say that without sincerity. He could say you're his specialest babygirl if he wanted to keep up the lie. And other than helping him with Raphael, there's really not a moment where Astarion has an opportunity to manipulate you....

EXCEPT.

EXCEPT. For this moment in particular. which is one of my FAVORITE Astarion ones because it is gloriously bitchy.

2. what if we took over a cult, babe.

Context first: I played a paladin of devotion, rough around the edges but fairly good-aligned Tav. She was a bit of a jerk but she saved people for free, and I adhered to her dialogue roleplay hard, choosing the "destroy the Absolute" dialogues at every turn. I don't have a save for this scene sadly otherwise I'd replay it and compare/contrast answers like a pepe silvia meme, so I'm only able to break this scene down from that particular lens.

Secondary context: This scene is important because it highlights Astarion's manipulative routine while still with a Tav he's very fond of (exceptional approval in this scene) and the way he lays it out is necessary to understand the moments later where he tries to manipulate Tav again, since it has components of the same themes, ideas, and tendencies that go on.

So, Astarion will hit you with this hot take early-ish on.

"You know. I feel a connection between us. Like we're two souls walking the same path (...)" Astarion establishes emotional connection, and a foundation of similarity/commonality/shareed interest. This is pretty standard fare for him. He does the same thing a lot early in act one, where he's almost CONSTANTLY asking you to "trust him," (when you really should not.)

"You might be a little naive in the ways of the world, but I see promise in you. Ambition." - He kind of snidely reveals what he actually thinks--you're a bit naive, you "have a big heart,"--he's hoping that his emotional cloying and little comment and connection with Tav will be enough to sway them over to what he wants to do, and they'll give him what he wants because We're So Similar, See?

"So I was thinking, what would be the right thing do when we get to Moonrise Towers?" - He wields his language carefully. The right thing to do. That's a language he thinks Tav speaks. An interest in doing the Right Thing; so, he adjusts accordingly. He wants to do the right thing too, you see, and the right thing conveniently lines up with what he actually wants, which is real power. Astarion confesses he's not a details guy, yada yada, then--

"If we can take that control from them, imagine the power we'd wield." <- He lets slip what he's actually interested in. Astarion generally can't keep a charade up for too long. His real thoughts always come through, and he reveals his hand in conversations often, but usually in offhanded ways and, well--he's never made a secret really of where his actual interests lie. His attempts at currying your favor and persuading you (and you can really feel the persuasion here) are prettyyyyy overt, but still, he's trying anyways.

"I'm just saying there's an opportunity here. If we can control the tadpoles, we can keep ourselves safe and liberate the world from this evil." <- He brings the conversation back around to what's more neutral than Absolute Power -- keeping ourselves safe. He uses the We and Us language a lot when he wants to convince other people of anything, really. "We're all such good, trusting friends!" he'll say, lying through his FUCKING teeth. His manipulations here are like.... pretty clear, but he still gets an A for effort for trying to align himself with Tav & Tav's perceived goals & see if he can wriggle in his own in the process, put "become god-cult-leader" up as a Reasonable and Rational thing to Want to achieve.

The actual question here: does he care about Tav at this point? Up for interpretation, but I'm going to say yes with... the caveat that I don't think he's fully acknowledged it to himself, and I don't think it's love here. It is high approval though. I do think he cares about Tav, I do think he's including Tav in longer-term goals, he's depending on Tav at this point as an ally he can count on, and he's starting to get chipped away at.

I don't even really think it's a lie that he on some level would like to see Tav safe, and takes their wellbeing into account. He's been with them long enough to worry over their safety to some extent, and to at least partially lump it in with his own (in my opinion). Is that love? I don't think so. "We can finally be safe," is a reoccurring theme in the other scene I'm going to break down in just a second. And it's interesting for a lot of reasons.

And furthermore: you can care about someone and still be manipulative toward them. That's a core thing going on here, I think, with Astarion.

3. Yeah He's Manipulative (Trauma Edition).

"Is Astarion Manipulating Me In Act 3? " YES. A little bit. And here's why it's INTERESTING.

So, the confession scene in act two has already happened. Astarion has confessed some of his big mushy feelings to you. He likes you. You've slammed the "can I kiss you?" dialogue 100 times already because you're really super normal about the vampire twink. He doesn't know what to make of his caring about Tav yet. See: his "what are we??" dialogue.

MOVING ON. Astarion is also, a manipulative little shit, and he will NOT change his ways just because he likes you a lot and giggles when you give him a little kissy kiss.

Astarion is deeply, deeply traumatized, and his trauma has in his own words makes him act out the same cycles of behavior that he did prior to escaping Cazador. In its most obvious format, one of those behaviors was seducing Tav because that was the kind of behavior he knew, and it was the only thing he could think of to secure his own safety. By act 2, he's somewhat aware of the cycle, but--

Traumatic behaviors, like anything relating to surviving abuse & getting out of it, come and go in waves. You'll likely not find a survivor of abuse who doesn't revert back to coping mechanisms at times, especially in moments or episodes of heightened stress, or being put back into the old environment again. ->

Astarion going back to Baldur's Gate--and specifically with killing cazador in mind--is him going back to that same place where traumatic events occurred... almost constantly. Thus, he goes back to his old behaviors. Not to the exact same level, but it is there.

Safety. THIS is a word that comes back a lot with Astarion, it is one of his most reoccurring (if not the most) themes. He wants to feel safe. He associates power with safety, because the safest person in the world--as in, literally safe, not "safe for other people"--in his mind, is Cazador, who is powerful enough to repel any threats to himself & what he owns, has, possesses, and keeps.

Astarion is still, at his core, no matter what, self-serving. He will do what's best for himself first and foremost in almost every circumstance you put him in. Or at least, he will want to--if Tav or someone else stands in his way, and he sticks it out, it'll be begrudgingly. That's a fundamental aspect of his character & to try and do away with it makes no sense.

And in case it got lost, I'll reiterate that I do think Astarion's actual feelings for Tav at this stage are entirely genuine, & deeply felt. It shows, and it's obvious. He's just got several layers of behavior going on in the process.

"But I thought astarion liked me??? why would he consciously choose to manipulate me??" The thing is, once again, you can like someone and still try to manipulate them, pull on their heartstrings, or quite frankly guilt trip them into helping you kill like, a lot of fucking people so you can become godlord supreme emperor of mortals and vampire kind.

Let's get into the second scene I want to break down. Keeping all of what we've established above about how Astarion goes about establishing connection & togetherness & the idea of shared safety to sway Tav over to his side.

So let's set up one thing for sure. It's pretty obvious, everyone gets this scene, but let's set it up anyways.

"What's a handful of the wretch's servants? IF they're anything like me when I was enslaved, they'll all be begging for death anyways." <- apathy toward others, generally motivated by self-interest, lack of empathy for others' plights, a callousness that is fairly unrepetant. He's fairly sure this is what he wants, and--

"After two hundred years of pure shit, I think I deserve something better." Again, Astarion tells us exactly what he's thinking. And what he believes. And he's not wrong! He does deserve something better than what he had before. Or, at least, he doesn't deserve the level of cruelty he endured at Cazador's hands. However.

And then he follows it up with, "I know you do [care]. It matters to me too. I want to be able to protect you too." <- finally, we come back around to the reoccurring theme he'll use to sway Tav over to his side. He sees the soft point of Tav in the conversation--they care about him--and he needles that in; they care about him, he cares about them, they should help him complete the ritual for it, it's what's best for everyone. Except for the 7000 spawn, but. You know.

NEXT IMPORTANT SCENE. let's take a look at the scene that follows after you confront his fellow vampire spawn in the tavern.

I'm keeping the full screencap so I can keep his shifty little look in here. It's not the best format, I wish I'd kept videos, the body language & voice acting adds a lot to this moment, but. Neil you're so good at balancing Astarion's careful shiftiness, his gleeful/vindictive revelry at being so close to his end goal & confronting his siblings without flinching, his coy little pleading, and his near desperate watchfulness. He needs Tav. He cares about Tav, yes, but he needs Tav to help him.

Astarion is, again, fairly callous about the deaths of his brethren. You have to remind him time & again to maybe empathize with their suffering & similarity to him. But each time he reverts back to, "their lives" serving a greater purpose.

Astarion then follows that up with "But we're a team. If I become all powerful, then we become all-powerful." <- I think he genuinely does think of himself & Tav as a team, and as a good one at that. More than anything, Tav is the first person Astarion, in his own words, feels he truly cares for. They've killed a few gods chosens together, Tav has given him respect, patience, care. He feels fairly assured of their presence & kindness at this point. And assurance tends to breed............. let's call it, taking for granted?

I believe he's trying to again emotionally bid for their help & loyalty as much as gauge if they're still with him, as he does by going -> "We are a team after all. You're still with me?" Once again, the easiest way to secure aid is through emotional connections; someone's attraction to you, or better yet, their care for your well-being, are easy strings to pull on to try and entice someone to do what you want them to do. It's not necessarily maliciously intended, but it is a kind of manipulation.

"But Astarion just genuinely wants to know you're on his side!" Yes. And he also really wants you to help him with the ritual. ANY arguments against the idea that he's benignly trying to manipulate Tav's feelings, I'm just gonna put up this screencap right here, one of the last times he bids for Tav's affection & loyalty in this, in this particular conversation:

Look at his stupid pouty face and his "You want what's best for me, surely?" and oh god the voice acting. We're smacked right in the face with Act 1 Astarion's slinky, whiny little "truuuuust me it'll just be a taste I promise &lt;3333" voice. That PURE "I'm trying so hard to connive my way into your good will because I REALLY want this." voice.

His strength is your strength. And he will pleading face emoji his way through getting you over to his side if he needs to. It's honestly so funny, how the writing plays out, because SEVERAL times you can choose to fully fall for it, "yes of course I want whats best for you / want you to be safe / feel good" and every time, he's like "I know I know <333 and I want YOU to feel safe too <3333" and I don't even think that's a lie! I don't think it's a LIE, I just think it's the same pattern of manipulative behavior he's exhibited time and again even when he cares for you.

Astarion is still Astarion. He is very willing to kill, lie, and cheat his way through just about anything to protect himself, & all of that makes PERFECT sense for him. And if you're not on board with his plans, of course he will use every tool at his disposal to get you on board. It is, after all, what's best for both you and him. His power is your power.

4. "I'm doing this for you too." He said, lying. Or genuinely believing that but lying to himself too and executing it in the weirdest way imaginable.

So, this is probably my favorite interaction in the entire Astarion romance. Love the grave scene. Love the horny evil vampire turning. But this moment in particular is fucking brilliant, because it illustrates the dilemma here perfectly.

Astarion outright tells us exactly why he is the way he is, and why he cares for Tav while being able to be so cruel and callous about others. "No one ever looked out for me [...] you're the only one." Tav is exceptional--as in, THE EXCEPTION to the rule--because they cared for him in a way no one else ever has. He has ZERO reason to even bother lifting a finger for anyone else besides himself, because in his mind, none of them ever bothered to help him, why should he bother with them. But TAV. Tav he can make promises too.

On some level, I do kind of believe him when he says things like "I'm doing this for you too." -- As in, I believe that he believes that he's taken Tav into account here as well. I do think he genuinely thinks they'll be an even more magnificent duo of glorious bastards together once he's God Vampire Emperor Of Eternity. And on some level, he's probably right. They do take over the world together in some endings, so. Good for them.

However, do I think he's primarily motivated by anything but himself? No. Tav also benefitting from his mega vampire powers is just a bonus in a laundry list of reasons why Astarion wants to ascend at this point in the game. Why Astarion is willing to pull out every guilt-trippy, pleading face to get Tav to help him, if they show even a hint of reluctance. More than anything: Astarion is a survivor, and a survivor of severe abuse that pretty quickly explain why he is the way he is. Does that excuse what he does in the aftermath of that abuse, when it comes to harming other people? Not really. But it explains it pretty clearly.

Because Astarion is back where he came from, he's immediately thrust back into the cycles of behavior that both traumatized him & were what he had to do. The pattern of behavior, coping mechanisms, rooted in traumatic cycles, that he has done time and time and time again that has successfully gotten him, not what he wants, but what he needs to survive. Does his manipulation of Tav here mean he doesn't care? Not at all. It's just that he needs this work. He needs his allies to help him make it work, and he's willing to pull out every stop to see Cazador dead and himself with enough power to never feel so helpless or vulnerable again.

Astarion can love you & still be himself. He will never stop being a bit bitchy, a bit conniving, extremely focused on self-preservation at all costs. He might not seek out active maliciousness, but even in act 3 after the ritual, he still approves of generally being a sneaky bastard, taking short cuts, taking easy ways out. And none of this is necessarily... a problem? It isn't ""moral"", sure, but it's not really a problem. In some endings, he can pursue ""better"" paths, but his general deceivery and typical behavior aren't going away. Feature, not a bug. How each Tav feels about his ... fairly obvious deep romance manipulations is up to each player though, and that is what's interesting for each playthrough.

There are five more essays to write in here. There's the Astarion after the ritual, who agrees that fine, killing 7000 people is wrong. And there's the Astarion after the ascension, who is now fully entrenched in the idea that Power Is Everything, and all that means for him afterward, and his visceral, intense, obsessive controlling dynamic with Tav where they descend into Chaotic Vampire Evil Marriage. And there's Astarion and Tav together finally, honestly, openly, with the heart-wrenching intimacy of the grave scene. And this is almost 4000 words so I'm shutting the fuck up here.

So. I will end this by saying I'm peeling him like an onion rn I'm obsessed with him. He's gods horrible princess and he's never going to die.

[chefkids]

It's clear that Carmy can be with Claire after he fixes stuff with Donna. He sees her stuff in the basement the same way he saw Claire's pic there. We know they shot him bringing the box to her. Calo even said you have to fix the parent stuff before you can be in a relationship. The fact is, they don't hide much. The trailer showed everything that happened AS IT HAPPENED. The contract S talked to P about was the contract. Ice Chips WAS about ice chips. We have to take them literally. It's time.

Can Carmy be with Claire after he settles his childhood trauma? Sure.

Does he actually want to be with her? No.

He didn't want to go out with her in the first place so he gave her a fake number. He didn't want to hang out with her until she guilted him and brought up her dead cousin. He didn't want to call her his girlfriend until Sydney made him feel bad about it. He didn't want to tell her he loves her and the only time he even said it was to Fak when he posed it as a leading question. He didn't want to spend time with her after he promised to make Sydney his priority and only went to see her after being guilted by Richie. He has only ever done anything for Claire because other people have told him to, including herself who guilted him to cook for her. He hasn't apologized to Claire because he does not want to be forced to prioritize being in a relationship with her again if he fixes things.

Sydney has always been his choice out of his own volition from the start. He kept her around when everyone at The Beef did not like her. His mind brought her back in a middle of panic attack about Claire because he wants to choose her. No one told him to make her a Thom Browne jacket. No one pushed him to try and get her a star even though he doesn't want one. No one has ever told him to try to be better for Sydney or to choose her. He keeps trying to do all that on his own because she is his choice.

Claire leaving him was not a wake up call to be better and face all his emotional baggage with his mom. His own brother dying and his sister pushing him wasn't even what made him want to start getting better. He only started trying to address his issues and going to Al-anon meetings after he met Sydney, because she saw the good in him and realized he does want to be good, as a person not just a Chef, for her.

That's what his whole talk about amusement and enjoyment was about. That's what the legacy talk was about too. Fixing things in his life in order to make something good out of The Bear, for her, because he does not want to do this without her. Sydney possibly leaving him is his wake up call to settle the things in his life with Donna and Claire so he can fully focus on Sydney and The Bear, because he cares about losing Sydney a lot more than he has cared about losing Claire or his mom.

Putting Claire in the freezer and the garde manger was intentional. Putting Sydney with fire was intentional. Claire being backwards and Sydney being forward was intentional. Making Claire Sydney's pasta was intentional. Taking Claire to the post office, like UPS, was intentional. Having Claire be his cigarette addiction that he quit once he left her was intentional.

If you want to take everything that is said literally at its most basic form and think Claire is Carmy's peace and that he loves her because the Fak's said so and not bother to acknowledge everything else going into the show, go ahead. Be a Fak.

But Carmy fixing things with Donna and Claire does not equal him being with Claire in the end. They are just the steps he knows he needs to take before focusing on what matters to him.

[phantomchick]

Naruto and being the Underdog

Okay so recently I was discussing naruto's characterisation in the comments section of a fanfic and the author was explaining that they don't like/never vibed with Naruto's character (which is totally fair). But then they explained how they felt the supposed underdog setup was contrived and didn't really work because Naruto never actually starts at zero thanks to his jinchuriki powers and being the yondaime's son. (And so here I am, on my soapbox to discuss how Naruto and the concept of being and underdog relate.)

On a physical level perhaps this applies, but Naruto places an equal (if not larger) amount of focus on the emotional action as it does on its plot action.

On an emotional level he has to work for each and every one of his personal relationships.

He wants to be hokage a role he can only take if he is both respected by his village and powerful enough to protect it. It''s a twofold goal. And in terms of the social aspect this is clearly stacked against him due to the hatred and exploitation of jinchuriki as well as shinobi in general, achieving emotional connection and dialogue between people who are used to might makes right or who are pre-disposed to look down on him or want to kill him puts him firmly at a disadvantage narratively.

With the notable exception of Hinata whose love is unconditional, whether it's Tsunade, Neji, Sasuke or Gaara or even Kurama the respect and attention that naruto craves are things he actively pursues in both good and bad ways and he earns them through his own effort.

He does this both by striving to understand these very different people and where they're coming from as well as surviving all the shit the world throws at him. Emotional and physical tasks.

In terms of being a jinchuriki and getting the rasengan easily thanks to his shadow clone bullshit / birthright connections to the yondaime It must first be acknowledged that the jinchuriki power is more of a disadvantage than a boon to him at first. First, because of kurama actively going out of his way to mess with his chakra control as a kid while doing the leaf exercise he was unable to learn the regular clone jutsu; it also results in him experiencing the trauma of discrimination and isolation from a young age which could easily have led to festering self-hatred and alienation if not for Iruka's intervention, it results in multiple S ranks who are fully capable of killing even shippuden level Naruto targetting him, and while the trade-off of boundless energy and survive-ability is immense those same boundless resources have the potential to burn him alive if he loses emotional control/gives into his most negative emotions - that's basically making the subtext text at that point, the story is about his emotional development and growth, something his "OP buffs" don't earn for him. Let's talk about boundless chakra resources for a moment. At the end of the original series, he only knows the rasengan; the rasenshuriken, the shadow clone justu and sage mode/yinyang mode by the end of the series and that's like 5 justu tops if we're counting yin/yang/bijuu mode and sage mode as jutsu. The majority of what he learned from jiraiya for three years seemed to be taijutsu only with a side of failed bijuu control. Naruto has his jinchuriki chakra from the start but that doesn't translate to an ability to use it, he has to spend hours working out how to do the shadow clone, he did not figure out how to do the jutsu because of his chakra even if that was the reason he was able to use it at all, and when it comes to the rasengan I will cite [someone who deleted their reddit account] here:

Naruto completed the first stage in three days and one night. He figured out how his chakra needed to move to burst the water balloon (thanks to a cat) but because he didn't have the necessary chakra control, he improvised by using another hand. He completed the second stage in three weeks or so. The next day(?), Jiraiya gave him a hint to improve his focus which allowed him to finally complete it. And the third stage was completed seven days later to win his bet with Tsunade. Once again, Naruto didn't have the control to focus his chakra the correct way despite his continuous efforts. It wasn't until he came up with another improvised method by using a shadow clone to focus the chakra that he was able to complete the final stage.

Meaning he is the one who comes up with unorthodox methods, such as also using his other hand, or using a shadow clone to focus the chakra, to learn it in four and a half weeks but he still had to figure out how to do it all himself. The shadow clone would've been useless without his understanding of the jutsu or his ability to do the individual parts of the jutsu. He earns the jutsu and could conceivably have learned it the old fashioned way were he not under an artificial time limit as both Jiraiya and Kakashi, both without jinchuriki power, know it and can use it.

Now I'll talk about his supposed privilege as the yondaime's child: Sasuke gets chidori and later kirin thanks to HIS connections but that's never remarked on in the same way. And in fact most people in the naruto-verse learn a big jutsu from their clan or parent; see Might Gai, the genius of hard work, learning the eight gates thanks to his father. The rasenshuriken is something he's only capable of learning thanks to his chakra and shadow clones I hear you quote Kakashi, but it's again, something he couldn't do without actually putting the work in to learn the jutsu. Naruto is on a time crunch because of Akatsuki, the fact he is capable of learning the jutsu once he has advice on wind chakra from Asuma and has practiced forming the rasengan and doing windblades enough means he didn't need the extra chakra to do it, having the chakra didn't automatically make him capable of the rasenshuriken all it did was speed up his chakra control practice exponentially, it would have taken him more time practicing but he could have learned the jutsu eventually even if he wasn't a jinchuriki. Now summons. Being the Yondaime's child might get him an in with Jiraiya to let him have the toad contract, but Sakura and Sasuke also get summoning contracts thanks to personal connections with Tsunade and Orochimaru and Jiraiya only gets him the opportunity. It's Naruto who has to use his willpower to stay on Gamabunta's back and it's Naruto who has to form relationships with his summons like Gamakichi, (a bond that becomes instrumental toward the end of the 4th war). Additionally learning Sage mode wasn't just a result of Naruto getting the contract because neither Sasuke nor Sakura achieved it despite both having contracts (and despite Kabuto managing it where Sasuke didn't) Sasuke with the Hawks as well as the Snakes. And importantly Naruto was unable to use clones or his extra chakra to speed up his training in this. In fact the clones only come into it after he has successfully mastered sage mode and function as a limited extra resource that's can't go beyond three shadow clones meditating and this doesn't function as more sage powah but as a means of extending his sage modes duration, a workaround that's only needed because his being a jinchuriki gets in the way of him gathering sage mode in real-time with the toads on him. In conclusion while his chakra lets him practice jutsu to learn them faster, this is not the case in either his sage mode or the yin yang release and only applies to the shadow clone, rasengan and rasenshuriken - all of which he had to actually learn and understand the mechanics of otherwise the jutsu wouldn't have worked no matter how many shadow clones he had try it and that with the exception of shadow clone he demonstrably could've learned them without being a jinchuriki. And in the case of rasengan and rasenshuriken he is under artificial time-limits imposed by Orochimaru and the Akatsuki.

So that's shadow clone, rasengan, rasenshuriken and sage mode covered but what about bijuu mode. An overpowered special mode he only gets for being a jinchuriki, that B only bothers to teach him because he's a jinchuriki, surely that's LEGIT op bullshit. No? No. At least not in comparison to the Sakura's forehead seal from Tsunade, Sasuke's Mangekyou abilities like izanagi, giant purple warrior and amaterasu, Obito's mokuton, Madara's sage of six paths abilities or the rinnegan's everything, anyway. Not to mention what the edo tensei are capable of.

The only reason bijuu mode works is that he earns Kurama's regard on an emotional level, it's not something which being a kage's kid or having jinchuriki chakra levels actually does fuck all to contribute to. He was that all along but Kurama still hated him and tried to take over his body. It's Naruto himself who has to reach out and make that effort to understand this person who he's always seen as a burden or a curse or an annoying tenant who doesn't pay rent, a monster who tries to kill him and take his body. It's Naruto who has to put in the emotional labour and see Kurama as a person, no matter the harm he's done.

Naruto is the underdog in spite of being "the chosen one" and having the strongest bijuu and a kage father because emotional labour is never easy and in a world like his it seems insane to even try. It's why everyone except him was prepared to give up on Sasuke, Naruto recognises his anger at Itachi and desire to avenge his family as valid, Naruto when he finds out the truth about Itachi from Danzo tells Sasuke he gets it, why he wants to destroy the village, why he's so angry, when Sasuke changes his mind and decides to become hokage instead of destroying it so he can change it, Naruto understands WHY even if he still wants to be kage himself. The problem with Sasuke is that his anger is self-destructive and self-isolating, not that it exists, it's when Naruto fights him one last time and makes Sasuke realise that he's only hurting himself and his loved ones at this point, that "talk no jutsu" finally works and Sasuke is able to listen to Naruto and come home.

It's also why Naruto earns being hokage; in a world full of killers, someone who is capable of acknowledging the harm done and not ignoring or forgetting it (like how he tells pain he can't forgive him), but who is also capable of looking past that and understanding the motivations and feelings of the person he's dealing with and talking to them on that level as equals hits so hard. It just felt like a fantastic set up for a diplomatic hokage capable of dealing with other kages and achieving a peace in spite of the fact they're all to the last, untrustworthy ninja mercenaries who are generally very ends justify the means. In a world of kill or be killed Naruto is still willing to kill, but he's also willing to understand and to talk. And he wasn't born with that, he worked for it and failed often, especially with Sasuke, it was never easy, it often appeared hopeless but he kept trying.

And we rooted for him because of it.

[beegalactica]

How I journaled every day in 2023, and you can too in 2024

I heard someone wants to become "that girl" in 2024...

Well, let me tell you, "that girl" is the type of babe who embodies consistency; consistency in her thoughts, feelings, words and actions. Now one of the ways I have personified this aura of consistency is through frequent inward reflection through journaling.

I know, we've heard it a million times now. And with the new year approaching, it's so easy to set the intention to journal every day and do it well. News flash, my love, you must do much more than just set the intention. Let me tell you how I did it so you can do the same ~

Equipment

Believe me, I've tried it all: countless notebooks, diaries, bullet journals, apps, all of it, but this past year, only one app *stuck* for me, and that is Notion. Whether you prefer to journal with a good old pen and paper, or even if you prefer to make a big Google document, go for it!

The reason I settled on Notion was its table view/ calendar view database features. I liked being able to add properties like what rating out of 5 I would give my day or being able to label whether I was on my period, or any major milestones. I found that these labels made it really fun to look back and laugh at all the crazy things that I came up with, and reminisce over those 5/5 star days when I really felt like that girl. (see example below)

What the hell do you write about?

"You can write about whatever you feel like!" is the usual response, and while that's great if you're anything like me, you'll need more detail than that. I opted for some classic prompts that I would simply respond to at the end of every day, but if you want to freestyle it, try some shadow work prompts, or even just sum up your day in one sentence, you are more than welcome to.

My prompts were:

1. Three wins of the day: 2. One thing I learned today: 3. One thing I will do tomorrow: 4. Am I worried about anything? 5. Favourite thing of my day: 6. Song of the day: 7. A story from today: 8. An affirmation for my mind to sleep on:

You don't have to write paragraphs upon paragraphs if you don't want to, and some days, it might be hard to even think of three wins, but an it girl can be present and celebrate the endless blessings in life, even when it seems like there are none.

How to be consistent?

Going back to the central theme of this post, consistency, it is important to acknowledge that no matter how pretty you make your journal, or how thought-provoking your prompts are, the most important thing is to actually do it.

Life is fluid, it's never going to be linear. Some days you'll feel amazing, gorgeous and ready to take on anything, but other days you'll just wish you were a flower instead that doesn't have to deal with anything. That's just life. Some days, the last thing on my mind was my silly little journal, but I knew it was something I needed to do for myself, so I took 2 minutes to write a few sentences down, even when I'd rather be doing other things.

How to maintain your consistency:

Set reminders - at the start of the year, I had 2 reminders every day to journal; after the first few months, I cut it down to just one at 9pm, and by the end of the year, I was just doing it because it had become a routine for me.

Reward yourself - at first, you'll just be able to say you journaled for 1 day, then it will be 2 days, then slowly up to 1 week, 1 month, and soon you'll be like me, bragging about how you did it for a whole year! It's an accomplishment! Never lose sight of that.

Be kind to yourself - ultimately, this should be something you do for you and you only, so if you miss a day, it's not the end of the world. Every now and then, I didn't journal for a day - maybe I was too busy, or just exhausted by the time my day was over - so I accepted it and caught up first thing the next day. You make your own rules.

JUST START!!!!!!! - do it! Even if you mess up, start again and again and again! Nothing changes if nothing changes.

What's the point?

You've read this far, and you may be wondering, what's the point of journaling?

Well, I can confidently say that journaling changed my outlook on life immensely. 2023 was the best year I've had so far. Yes, there were setbacks: I lost friends that I thought would have forever, I struggled with my mental and physical health, and I reached points where I thought I was too low to get back up. But recording little bits about my day every day showed me, with actual tangible proof, that I will always get back up. I also had some amazing moments this year: I started a whole new school and era of my life, I made amazing friends, I fell in love with myself again and I found my voice.

Journaling has helped me to see the little positives in everyday life. Even when a situation seemed absolutely awful and I thought that I could never recover from it, I developed the mindset that not only could I recover, but I would absolutely recover. This new mindset helped me to laugh at myself in moments when a previous version of me would've shrivelled up into a ball and disappeared from the outside world.

Looking back over my life these past 365 days has helped me cultivate a new outlook on life, where I don't see setbacks as obstacles or barriers to my success, but as little stories to journal and laugh about when I inevitably overcome them. If that isn't the most it girl attitude to have, then I don't know what else is!

Journaling changed my life, and I hope that it can change yours too! Happy 2024! 🎀

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 410: Kacchan Fights a Baby

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan was born and then he grew up and murdered the Demon Lord.

Today on BnHA: Kacchan fights a baby. Tomura and Deku finally remember that they were supposed to have been fighting too this entire time, and get on with that once again. Tomura is all, “[literally just reaches out and grabs Deku’s face because Deku’s main character powers suddenly abandoned him in a fit of confusion].” Deku is all, “[chops off Tomura’s fingers which is somehow not even in the top twenty of violent things that have happened in this series in just the last five chapters].” Tomura is all “joke’s on you I still got your quirk :D” and fuck me he actually stole Danger Sense, what the fuck.

logically I knew AFO still had to be alive somehow because he’s too big of a villain to go out that easily without a proper sendoff. but deep in my heart, I’m still secretly disappointed

it just isn’t fair, lol. this guy has died more times than Rasputin and he’s still out here scheming his schemey schemes. when oh when will it end

sir you did not just say you had yet ANOTHER unused trump card up your sleeve??

(ETA: the translation isn’t fully clear here, but I think the trump card he’s referring to is the whole “I’ll just go back inside him and join the part of me that was already in there and we’ll take over Tomura’s body again together” plan that he was trying to pull off. I think. if not though, that’s certainly something worth speculating about.)

well as always the psychology in this series is unironically fascinating! he just wants acknowledgement at the end of the day, huh. just wants some love and attention. too bad he was born in a rat-infested hellscape and learned all the wrong lessons and turned into a crazed omnipotent murderlad

also he really did turn back into a baby sdfsdlkjfl oh no. I need to see Katsuki’s reaction to this immediately

oh my lord

(●__●)

lmao this is so incredibly fucked up

ngl though, this is karma at its finest. he tortured and killed so many people trying to earn everyone’s fear and awe and reverence, only to literally blip out of existence at the end with absolutely nothing to show for it

everyone please enjoy this series of panels of a deeply vexed Bakugou Katsuki picking a fight with this slowly melting evil baby

“you think I care that you’re a baby now. you think I won’t fight a fuckin’ baby. let’s do this you little punk”

also I’m sorry but it’s absolutely ridiculous that the gigantic chest wound Tomura inflicted on him got sewed up so neatly lol. AFO’s not the only one who stubbornly refuses to die no matter what

...

just once, it would be nice if Horikoshi didn’t immediately shred my plot nitpicks to pieces mere seconds after I write them

LMAO

BABY AFO DON’T CARE. BABY AFO WILL THROW HANDS WITH ANYONE ＼(｀0´)／

KACCHAN MY BELOVED FAVE OF ALL TIME, ARE YOU REALLY ABOUT TO LOSE TO A LITERAL FUCKING INFANT

WHAT HAPPENED TO “PERFECT VICTORY” LMAO. MOVING THE GOALPOSTS EVEN AS HIS CONSCIOUSNESS FADES. “EH, CLOSE ENOUGH”

-- OH FOR THE LOVE OF --

me: wow it sure is uncharacteristic of Katsuki to just pass out before he properly wraps up this battle

Horikoshi: oh yeah good point, sure would be a shame if someone... IMMEDIATELY ADDRESSED THAT CONCERN ON THE VERY NEXT PAGE

me: ఠ_ఠ

ldskjflaksdjfkds

fdsfsdkf. “SORRY ABOUT THAT, FOR A MOMENT THERE I ALMOST FORGOT TO BEND THE ENTIRE UNIVERSE TO MY WILL”

holy fucking shit. his body was all “um, just a quick reminder that you’re HORRIBLY WOUNDED and have lost like ten gallons of blood and all of your cells are about to call an emergency meeting to shut this thing down before you get us all killed.” and he was all “WHAT WAS THAT?!” and his body was all “oh my GOD, FUCK, OKAY just forget we said anything”

and meanwhile Baby AFO is just lying there all “(◉⌓◉)”

this six-month-old child is truly and sincerely still trying to kill Kacchan while screeching death threats in high-pitched baby talk

this actually would have killed him too, if he’d succeeded in passing out. all that just to be punk’d by a damn baby

you are actually shitting me right now

at this point I’m genuinely not sure which of them has the more powerful angry toddler energy

oh no ffuffkdsfk

meeeeelting. meeeeeeltiiiiiing!!! oh what a world what a world

jesus Horikoshi I am genuinely speechless

... welp

WAIT NO WAY, REALLY?!?!

?!?!?! WAS IT ACTUALLY THAT SIMPLE THIS WHOLE TIME

-- lkjf

three times. three times in the same fucking chapter. I give up. apparently I’ll literally believe anything this man says. does it feel good, Horikoshi. preying on your readers’ hopeful naivete

yeefuckinghaw lmao

GOOD JOB KACCHAN YOU DEFEATED THE EVIL BABY

awwwww

I actually had a theory about this! well more of a wishlist item, really. I can’t remember if I’ve actually posted about it yet or not. but it’s like. you know how Deku and Kacchan are always being really dramatic about holding hands? wanting to hold hands; not wanting to hold hands; being afraid to hold hands; holding hands via proxy, etc. etc.?

and you know how both Endeavor and All Might have each done their own version of the victory pose that Kacchan is referring to here? with each one using a different hand?

so you see, I was thinking that it might be nice. might be a little poetic and all that. if at the end of the fight, Deku and Kacchan did, in fact, hold hands. and then did the victory pose together. and it became like their iconic hero moment. them standing there together. having accomplished their goal and defeated TomurAFO through teamwork. realizing their shared childhood dream. and sharing that moment of triumph with each other and with the world, ushering in a new era of heroes

anyway yeah. I was thinking that might be a pretty good ending. but it looks like Kacchan maybe really is about to pass out here now, lol, so maybe not? anyways time to finally scroll down

-- okay I literally said awww again out loud

what a fucking nerd. I have never felt more fondness for a character in my life

every damn person watching this on the news better have leaped to their feet and started applauding, goddammit. those motherfuckers better be CHANTING HIS FUCKING NAME. all those nagging reporters better be bombarding his phone with calls. those fuckers who deleted his footage from the Shouto interview better be shamelessly leaving him dozens of voicemails acting like none of that ever happened and presumptuously asking when he can free some time in his schedule to visit their studio again. all the heroes who haven’t hugged him yet better be lining the fuck up. that one guy from the post-kidnapping press conference in chapter 86 better be writing a fifty page letter of apology!!

oh hey it’s a random pre-battle flashback mysteriously taking place in Troy “a few days before the battle” even though I thought they only moved into that place the night before the fight

I love how Katsuki immediately narrows his eyes (I assume. we can’t see for sure but that’s the vibe I get) at Jeanist and has to resist the urge to call the police on him for that pun

so Hadou’s wondering what Jeanist is talking about because they already evacuated the civilians, so what else are they trying to protect. and Edgeshot is all, “well obviously we’ve gotta protect everyone’s future,” which is a nice... rearshadowing?? for him saving Katsuki’s life later on lol

and now Mirko is all “get to the fucking point already.” which, same

so Jeanist says that Tomura is an even bigger problem than AFO, because at least AFO doesn’t want to murder everyone on the entire planet. and he concludes with “he’ll probably try to touch the ground and use his quirk.” which is a conclusion that I have to say wasn’t really worth two pages of flashback buildup for, considering that we all figured that out years ago

I’m guessing this is all just some sort of awkward transition back to Deku’s fight now lol

and now we’re getting two pages of exposition on how long it would theoretically take Tomura’s Decay to spread throughout the city, and then the entire country, yikes

damn. talk about stakes

and now finally back to Deku!!

shoutout to everyone who correctly predicted that Deku was once again talking out of his ass when it came to being out of Gearshifts. we all knew. unlimited supply

wow Tomura way to throw AFO under the bus

the way I recall it, AFO wasn’t the one who failed to kill him back then lol. but go ahead and talk your shit king

DEKU WHAT ARE YOU DOING

holy shit?!?!

like my first thought was “well last time he did this he just tried to steal OFA rather than Decay him, so he’ll probably try that again and it’ll be fine.” only to remember that the AFO inside Tomura is currently permanently(?) out to lunch, and Tomura himself doesn’t give two figs about stealing OFA. so, uhhhh >_>

(ETA: nevermind.)

but then this happened

Deku what the actual fuck

OH MY GOD??!?!

HOLY SHIT

okay. okay, fuck. lemme gather up my thoughts, and then we’ll wrap this up

they’ll never admit it, but you know the other OFA Vestiges secretly resented Shino a tiny bit for being the only one of them to not be gruesomely murdered. bet they all feel guilty for thinking that now

Shino and Banjou also seemed to have this cute little pseudo-rivalry thing going on, so I really feel bad for Banjou now. :/ he looks so horrified in that bottom right panel

gotta admit, I did not see this coming in the slightest. OFA has been this immutable “I do what I want!” quirk for so long that I never thought Tomura or AFO would actually succeed in stealing it, even partially. that shook me to my core

BUT, it’s also really exciting to me because it’s going to make this battle much more interesting if Deku can’t use his get out of jail free card. shit just got way more real and I’m here for it

lastly, so! let me tell you guys my prediction. I still can’t see Tomura being the final villain lol. I just can’t. it feels too anticlimactic. if I’m wrong, I’m wrong, and I’ve certainly botched MANY predictions in the past, but I have not yet learned my lesson from any of it and I will not apologize lol

so here’s what I think. Deku and Tomura battle it out for the next chapter or two, and Tomura snatches up more of Deku’s quirks one by one. we see all of the Vestiges disappearing and the mood gets more and more desperate. eventually we’re down to just Kudou and Yoichi. Deku is panicking, but for some reason Kudou seems even MORE panicked

Kudou/Gearshift eventually gets stolen too, and it looks like this might finally be it for Deku (I have no idea how he’d stop Tomura from Decaying the ground once Blackwhip gets stolen, btw, but maybe Katsuki or someone else interferes in desperation towards the end). but just when it looks like Tomura is finally going to take the last piece of OFA, Deku’s vibes suddenly do a 180, stopping Tomura in his tracks

cut to the OFA Moon Gorgeous Meditation Realm, where Deku and Yoichi are staring at the door -- yes, that door -- in shock. because it’s finally been opened (now that the other Vestiges are no longer there to keep it at bay). and just like that, enter AFO, for the THIRD FUCKING TIME :D :D

tl;dr, HERE’S HOW HORCRUX!DEKU CAN STILL HAPPEN!!! wait where are you all going. wait come back

anyway so wow that was a really bizarre chapter that I truly thoroughly enjoyed, which should probably be a bit concerning. on to the next two week break! (for anyone who’s not aware, Shounen Jump will be on break next week, so yeah.) I’m on chapter 391 now. so close but still so far. the end of the year has gone by too damn fast tbh

[aceof-stars]

(Edited to adjust my argument).

I think RTFA confirming that Miles Edgeworth didn't intentionally forge evidence aligns with his established character in the first four cases. It does take away some audience interpretation but personally I'm fine with that.

First of all I don't think the rest of AA1 ever confirmed it one way or the other. There are a few instances where Phoenix thinks of Edgeworth as an evidence forger but it's not like Phoenix would know for sure either. (Do correct me, with specific lines please, if I'm wrong though).

But more importantly, if you only look at the first four cases of AA1 Edgeworth being an evidence forger doesn't make sense with his character. Why would a prosecutor forge evidence? Not including reasons like being blackmailed. 1) If they don't care (enough) about the truth (prioritizing things like success over it), or 2) if they truly believe the defendant is guilty and are desperate for a conviction (aka the reason Adrian Andrews forges evidence in 2-4).

Does Edgeworth care about the truth, before the start of his redemption arc at the end of 1-3?

Yes... kind of. I don't think he prioritizes the truth or consciously cares about it. As the "Demon Prosecutor", Edgeworth cares about justice, and achieving it through punishment. However, convicting the wrong person would not be justice to him. Which is what makes Edgeworth change sides to convict the right person in 1-3. So in that sense, he does care about the truth.

You could argue that Edgeworth had already lost once to Phoenix and thought "screw this, my perfect record is already gone, another loss wouldn't change that fact". But compare him to two characters who are actually obsessed with their perfect records. Manfred, a perfectionist control-freak, getting a penalty (not even losing!) unraveled him so much that he killed Gregory in the heat of the moment. Franziska after losing in 2-2 declares that: "That spirit channeling trial was a sham! I refuse to acknowledge its legitimacy! It did not count!" She doesn't even want to admit that she lost. Edgeworth, on the other hand, doesn't act like someone who truly prioritizes his win record over the truth.

Because Edgeworth didn't just let himself lose in 1-3, he made himself lose. He made Vasquez testify again. She would have gotten away if Edgeworth didn't say anything. And after the trial he tells the judge "Will Powers was innocent. That he should be found so is only natural… not a miracle."

Okay but if Edgeworth does care about the truth (to some extent), and believed that every defendant being guilty was the truth, he could have easily gone down the path of forging evidence to ensure the verdict reflected what he believed to be true. That leads me to my next question:

2. Does Edgeworth truly believe that every defendant he prosecutes is guilty?

Actually no. He says this in Turnabout Sisters: "Innocent"...? How can we know that? The guilty will always lie, to avoid being found out. There's no way to tell who is guilty and who is innocent! All that I can hope to do is get every defendant declared "guilty"! So I make that my policy.

Yeah I think that line speaks for itself.

Miles Edgeworth can't bring himself to consciously care about or prioritize the truth, but the moment it's presented in front of him he also can't bring himself to ignore it. He doesn't think it would be just to knowingly convict an innocent person, but he's so disillusioned and distrusting of people that he's lost faith in finding the truth.

So, he commits himself to getting guilty verdicts because he believes that's the best shot he has at enacting justice, even if he accidentally convicts innocent people from time to time.

And to me that aligns with his reaction to finding out he unknowingly used forged evidence in 1-5. Edgeworth was so disillusioned with finding the truth that he has accepted that some collateral damage would inevitably happen as a result of his mindset. However, because he still can't let go of his dedication to the truth, he wouldn't want to lie or rewrite the facts to achieve his verdicts.