#we're supposed to understand him not excuse him

[kkewpiie]

A Promise.

Part 1 - Friends Since the Start

Pairing: Jacob Black x Human!Fem!Reader. Description: Reader has known Jacob since they where little kids, and as they get older her feelings for him begin to grow. A/N: Bella is in this story, I assume they hung out with her as well I just couldn't think of how to fit it in. - keww

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Your first memory of Jacob came from when you were about 6. You were playing on La Push, scouring the sandy shores for cool shells or any washed up creatures you could find- typical kid stuff.

After a whole day of running up and down the beach, you were sat on the sand, watching the sun hide behind the ocean as you sorted through the treasures you had collected that day. A push on your right shoulder, turning your head to a boy only a year younger than you, his hands held out right in front of your face, and a front-toothless grin on his.

"(Y/N)! It's for you! 'Caus we're best friends forever!" looking down into his grubby, sand covered paws was a little bracelet, made from broken shells strung along a fishing line, some of which that had familiar patterns.

"Forever?"

"Forever!" with that you jumped onto him, pulling him into the biggest bear hug you could muster.

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When playing hide & seek, it is only fun for the people that know they are playing it. One summer, while you and Jake were spending your time foraging around in the woods, you decided it would be a great idea to play a game, only you forgot to mention it to him.

After successfully sneaking away while Jacob was distracted by a rare kind of newt in the stream, you had hidden yourself behind a large tree trunk, sheathed in moss, and fallen leaves. Crouching low and your hand over your mouth to catch any escaping giggles, as you could barely keep yourself together at the thought of Jacob unable to find you.

Five minutes had passed... Then ten...and so on...

The woods got quieter, and the light started to fall behind the dense tree-line. The game stopped feeling like a game as you began to get cold, and jumpy at the scurry-ings of the forest around you.

Eventually, you stood up stiffly- "Okay.. You win I'm done hiding now.." You looked around, no one in sight, and the woods around you darkening quicker than before.

"Jake..??" You called a little louder, but to no answer. Your breath quickened, as you grabbed onto your shirt in a effort to soothe yourself as your face scrunched up to hold back your fear.

Then you heard it. Snapping branches, a heavy thudding getting louder and louder, you twisted around trying to discern the direction.

"(Y/N)!" A familiar voice- loud, and scared. Not annoyed, not playing- scared.

Before you could respond, he burst through the dense brush with wild eyes, and flushed face, hair clinging damply to his head, and a scratch on his cheek. Spotting you, he froze- just for a moment, before jumping again and wrapping his arms around you so tightly, it pushed the air out of your little chest.

Filling your lungs up again, you began to stutter out apologies and little excuses alongside cries.

"I couldn't find you anywhere.. I-I thought a monster got you.." he spoke softly, pulling back just enough to look at you. His eyes searching you all over for any damage, his face had a look you had never seen before, a look you didn't understand, at least not fully. It was a look boys your age weren't supposed to know how to do yet- look at you like you were theirs to protect.

"I'm fine.." you mumbled in embarrassment. "I just wanted to play.."

"Promise." Jake's eyes locked onto yours, black pools with little flecks of gold, filled with the upmost seriousness.

"Promise.. what?"

"no more hiding from me. Ever."

"Even during hide-and-seek??"

"Especially then." His little face making a mean look, you stared at him for a moment- your cheeks struggling to stay still, and hold in your laughter.

"Okay!! I promise!" You held out your pinky, and he held out his, looping them together with laughter and a big grins.

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Most of your younger years were spent that way, together. As you and Jacob grew older, you changed as expected but your friendship never did.

That was until one summer, under a tree behind Billy's house. You and Jacob sat backs against it, underneath a blanket as you listen to music off the iPod he had received as a birthday gift. One set of earbuds shared between you, threatening to fall out if you move any farther from each other.

Stuck in this position, (Y/N) felt Jake's head rest onto her shoulder. His eyes closed as he began to hum to the playing song. Your chest began to tighten as something was felt bursting within it, a feeling you had never felt before as you look down at his face.

It felt like just yesterday, you and Jacob were running around the rez getting into trouble... But as you stared down at him, you started to notice all the ways he had changed, his hair long and darker than it was before. His nose more prominent placed on his thinner face which had slowly replaced his chubby cheeks, Jake was no longer that little boy that would run around with you on the beach. The whole sight of it making your heart feel as if it was stone, weighing you down and keeping you unable to move away from looking.

Jacob must've sensed you staring, turning his head up to meet yours, your gazes connect, and it almost takes your breath away as your face burns red hot, all of this simply too much for your mind to process.

"..you okay..?" He said, turning up a brow at your staring.

You stuttered out an excuse, something about it being too hot under the blanket, scooting yourself out from under it, and hiding your face away from him.

When you got back home that night, you couldn't remove the image of his face from your mind. The feelings it gave you.. they were so unbearably strong...

Laying on your bed as you stared at the ceiling, trying to force your heart to be still; you remembered the promise you all those years ago.

His voice in the woods, the scratch on his little cheek, the way he seemed so scared because he couldn't find you.

"No more hiding from me. Ever."

That promise..

And this- this feeling... It was scarier than the forest that night, deeper than any of the shadows underneath the trees.

So you made a decision. A terrible one that made your heart ache even more.

You'd keep your feelings hidden away. You'd keep quiet- despite the overwhelming urge to say it as loud as you could.

Because you couldn't bare losing him.

"I'm sorry Jake... Please forgive me.." You whispered, eyes stinging, and your throat tightening- breaking your promise to him, and hiding from him in a way he could never find.

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And that's the end of part 1! What do you think?? I've never written a fic before and only recently watched through twilight! (super late- I knowww). Feel free to comment if there are any mistakes OR if you have any suggestions on where the story should go (still thinking on how to include Bella's role in all this)!

Thank you for reading!

[sincetheducksleft]

S3E3 "Fortunate Son": The past alive in the present

This episode invites us to look back at Tony's childhood, and just as much to look back at our own experience of Tony as viewers of the show. The pilot episode and the inciting event of the whole series drive Tony's realization, which also reminds us, the viewers, that this show is just a snapshot of Tony's life. We are only given access to his past to the extent that it is incarnate in his present. But it is vividly incarnate in his present.

This is one of those Sopranos episodes that changes our perspective not just on everything that comes after it, but much of what came before.

Looking back just a little, to S2E6 "The Happy Wanderer", Tony's exploitation of Davey Scatino's gambling addiction takes on a totally new meaning in light of his experience with his father. Johnny cut off Satriale's finger over a gambling debt, and then rationalized it to Tony by suggesting that an unpaid debt devalues a person more than indulging in violence. That Satriale may be a nice man, but he put himself in this situation. Exactly the justification Tony makes about Davey.

(It's probably worth noting that Tony never cut off Davey's finger -- and while his interactions with AJ in this episode make a weird parallel to his interactions with Johnny, he still seems like a better father than Johnny did. He's passing down a softer punch.)

As a kid, Tony is vividly aware of the connection between violence and survival for his family -- that the hands that cut the meat for his baby sister are the same hands that cut off Satriale's finger -- and because he had no way to escape that world he could only cope by rationalizing it. He deeply internalized what his father told him, and it became possibly the first pillar of his rationalization of this lifestyle. And by extension it became a pillar holding up his entire world.

Looking back a little further, to S1E5 "College", we know Tony once attended college, too. When Tony was approximately Meadow's age he had another world, another life, available to him. But, just like Meadow, he ultimately rejected it and returned to the world that was familiar to him.*

Maybe he worked too hard to rationalize this world as a child and now it's the only place that feels rational to him, that he understands. Or maybe he feels too deeply twisted by it to belong anywhere else. Or maybe it's the same thing. And maybe the decision he made to remain a part of this world is something Tony will also be rationalizing for the rest of his life.

Regardless, the association between his panic attacks and meat -- between his deep dissatisfaction with his life and the point at which he started rationalizing this life to himself in order to survive within it -- tells us the process of reckoning with our past is never complete.

The wounds of childhood do not heal. Tony's past is alive in his present, and every choice he makes is at the end of a long line of choices that brought him to this moment. And Tony himself is at the end of a long line of fathers who created their child's world and then tried to push them out of it. And he's not the first child to return to it. And he also won't be last.

*I know Meadow doesn't drop out of college, what I mean is over the course of the show she becomes more of an apologist for organized crime, pursues a career defending white-collar criminals instead of oppressed minorities, and never really escapes the world she grew up in like Tony wanted her to. Arguably because one of the theses of this show is that intergenerational trauma is something like fate.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Four

Can't stop thinking about reader losing her cool.

"So we're closed, John." You said, trying to be cordial.

"Is that all you have to fucking say?" He practically growled before huffing. A humorless chuckle rumbling out of his chest. "I suppose not since you won't respond to any of us."

"Don't do that." You said taking a step back. Trying to create some distance between you and him. John would never physically hurt you. That much you knew.

"What?" He asked. His voice rising as he stepped closer to you. "Be angry that you pulled that shit and then left? Stopped talking to us. Changed your fucking locks. Last thing we even knew about you was that you got on a fucking plane and left. Even your friends wouldn't tell us anything besides that you were okay." "Which considering this came out of bloody nowhere, I find it highly unlikely that you are in any way 'okay'."

You took a deep breath. You wouldn't be intimidated. You wouldn't clam up. You wouldn't cry. You won't go back on your decision. You will be cordial and polite and not unleash everything you want to.

"I understand you might be upset, but it's for the best. It wasn't working out and I wanted to end on somewhat good terms. I would appreciate it if you lowered your voice and stopped speaking to me in that way." You could barely recognize your voice. It sounded so scripted. So robotic. But it was something you had been telling yourself. Excuses you had been telling yourself.

Because if you told yourself the truth. The picture you would paint would tell a different story. It wouldn't highlight the fact that John spoke to you like he was one of your men or that Johnny had the emotional capacity of a teaspoon. It wouldn't show what a flake Kyle was or that Simon was well and truly a mean-spirited person.

It would show how you weren't worth it. Four possible men. Four possibilities of happily ever after and none of them chose you. That no one ever did and no one ever would. You weren't worth it. You weren't loveable.

It wasn't right, but it was what the voices had been telling you late in the night. When you would crawl into your cold bed. The silence of the room not filled with John's steady breathing or the sound of Kyle's heartbeat as you laid you head on his chest. The absence of Johnny's occasional snoring or whatever Simon was watching playing in the background of your dreams.

In the void, all your dark thoughts came back at you.

"Upset?" He asked, his voice still louder than you would have liked. "An understatement considering the stunt you pulled."

"You think it was a stunt?"

"So Johnny thought with his dick and didn't plan things out. You should have told him instead of crying to Simon and then pulling this shit." "Christ, I knew you were still young, but I didn't take you for that immature."

"You know what?" "I'm done." "I am so fucking sick of making excuses for you all." "You want to act like I'm the immature one, John?" "You are 35-year-old man who cannot separate his work from his work like. You have continuously talked to and down to me like I am one of your men, only to turn around and always blame your shitty fucking attitude on work. I get that your job is stressful, but I did not sign up to be your verbal fucking punching bag."

"And this come and fucking go incident with Johnny. It has been a consistent issue with him coming over just to fuck. I've asked him for that last six months that 'hey, we've been seeing each other for a year and a half, I would love to meet your family' and suddenly the dates stop. He doesn't ask to see me until after 7 PM. He brings food occasionally, fucks me and leaves. Sometimes before I even wake up."

"And the only reason Kyle is the person I am the least pissed off with is because I haven't even seen him." You took a step closer, not noticing how the anger in John's eyes had softened. "I have not seen Kyle in weeks, to no fault of my own. I stopped reaching out to make dinner plans after the third time he canceled on a date night when I was either on my way or already at the restaurant."

"And Simon?" You scoffed. "Well, it doesn't really matter. After all, as he said I get mine. You all make me cum which is supposed to magically erase how shitty you've all been as partners. It's supposed to erase the nights I've cried myself to sleep debating on whether or not there was something wrong with me. How I'm not good enough to meet anyone else in your lives like some dirty fucking secret. How none of you can even bother to pencil me for a group dinner so I can tell you a publishing house picked up my book. How at some point you all stopped caring or maybe never did."

You took a breath. Blinking quickly to keep the tears at bay.

You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't cry.

"As Simon said it best, I should have known that spreading my legs wouldn’t end with one of you putting a ring on your finger.”

For once, John was silent. Unsure of what to say. An apology starting to form at the tip of his tongue before realizing 'sorry' wouldn't cut it. Not this time.

Had he really been that sharp with you? He knew that there were times he had gotten short, but he almost always apologized immediately after. If not at the very moment he took in your crest-fallen face, then definitely later. But he almost always told you he was sorry. Didn't he?

"So as I said," you swallowed down the lump in your throat. "I'm closed. We're done. Now get out." Your face held no sadness. Even though your eyes were nearly full to the brim with unshed tears, you weren't sad.

You were finally angry.

[prongsx]

who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

[dilf-docs]

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger fem!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i too i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

cr: divider @kodaswrld / gif @a7estrellas

[muniimyg]

𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!jk (19) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*

series m.list // taglist request: closed

note: uhhh... angst, fluff,, face fucking/freaky sex (period sex) LOL .... nothing too crazy but it's def intimate. jus wanted to let u guys know part 20 is the 'epilogue' for the plotline ,, the continuation will go on from part 21-25,,, (onwards if i have more drafts) but that's all i have planned for now !!! thank u so much for reading along,,, it's truly been a pleasure to be loved and seen by u all <3 much love !!

୨ৎ playlist ୨ৎ

war - keshi ; you always got something you wanna prove / and i've got nothing left to lose / don't know what we're fighting for / i'm tired of going back and forth

intro (end of the world) - ariana ; i'd rather tell the truth than to make it worse for you / if the sun refuse to shine / baby, would i still be your lover? / would you want me there? / if the moon went dark tonight / and if it all ended tomorrow / would i be the one on your mind?

labyrinth - taylor swift ; uh oh, i'm falling in love / oh no, i'm falling in love again

//

that day.

when someone who loves you more than life itself proposes, you say yes. 

that’s what you’re supposed to do. 

you’re supposed to kiss, plan the wedding, get married, and live happily ever after. it’s supposed to work out. it’s supposed to. 

yet, there you stood in front of the love of your life and a ring between you two. silent, eyes flickering back and forth from his to the ring. your gaze traces the cut and falls in love with how the diamonds shine. the band is the perfect thickness and there is nothing more you want in the world than to put it on. 

you know what to say. 

the words are right there, waiting on the tip of your tongue. so easy to speak out, so tempting to do… but with every breath and exchanged look with jungkook, there’s something inside you that stops you. you search as fast as you can, running through your mind with the leftover excuses and justifications of why it’s still a no. 

then, your mind stops spinning the moment you realize; it’s just not the right time. at least, right now isn’t. 

it’s not that simple to understand and accept. you, yourself, have a difficult time figuring out why you can’t just live and be happy. why you can’t accept the proposal right now since you believe in jungkook so much… perhaps, the best way to put it is; it’s stormy. there’s fog, the rain is pouring, and it’s cold. you know the storm won’t last forever. the sky will clear soon… but it’s not now. right now, the storm needs to calm.

only time can do so. 

only time can bring the calm.

so, you answer jungkook with a heavy heart but a clear mind. 

“can i have some time? please, jungkook…” 

his shoulders drop, but his heart feels more than ready to wait. why? because contrary to popular belief, the world didn’t end when you didn’t answer jungkook’s proposal.

who was he to deny you of some time? both of you knew the real issue wasn’t whether you loved him—it was everything wrapped around it.

he gives you until the end of the week to make your choice.

jungkook fills the next 3 days with clingy text messages and random visits to your place. each day, he makes playful comments about how he’s packing up and doesn’t know where to put his things... should he drop them off at your place or ship them to new york.

you roll your eyes and ask, “are you staying there forever?”

in response, he huffs cheekily and says, “only if you break my heart.”

the truth is, you could never do it.

you could never break his heart.

it’s too precious.

it’s quite literally half of yours.

after he proposed and granted you time, the two of you talked about how the week should go. yes, you would give your answer eventually, but more importantly, the focus should be on zion. he’s the center of your relationship, and your decision shouldn’t change the fact that you’re both his parents.

which brings us to now...

sitting in the back of zion’s daycare room with your phone out, more than ready to capture the upcoming moments. but as excited as you are, a nervous buzz hums beneath your skin. maybe it’s just a mom thing. watching your son grow and take part in these little social moments moves you in ways you never expected.

“honey, why are we sitting so far away—”

“oh, you made it!”

“i wouldn't miss this for the world,” jungkook smiles, rushing to your side. he leans in and kisses your cheek, the warmth of his lips sending a comforting flutter through you. settling beside you, he glances at the classroom filled with eager children. “hi mama. is it his turn yet?”

you nod, a mix of excitement and nervousness bubbling in your chest. “is it weird we’re here during their circle time? like, are we controlling parents? we could’ve just asked for a video to be sent to us—”

“next, we have zion sharing—oh, wow! friends, it looks like zion brought so many toys to show and tell for us today… maybe he can pick just one to present?” zion’s teacher announces, patting his back and helping him open the bag.

your cheeks flush with a blend of embarrassment. wide eyed, jungkook whispers, “holy fuck, you packed him so much shit—“

“shhh! what was i supposed to do? he couldn’t decide, and i didn’t want his first show and tell to be something he wouldn’t remember!” you playfully shove jungkook, who chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“you spoil him too much.”

“says the father that buys his 3-year-old stussy clothing and calvin klein underwear.” you bite.

jungkook shrugs and tilts his head. “dilf behaviour, i don’t know.”

his reply makes you laugh. then, you both turn your attention and watch zion bend over and shuffle through the bag. his small hands search for the perfect item, only revealing he’s found it through a big smile. when he finally makes his choice, the teacher smiles brightly and helps him retrieve a photo from the depths of the bag.

“friends, today zion wants to share a family photo!” she announces, handing the photo to him. zion beams with pride as he holds it up, encouraged to walk around the circle to show everyone. when he notices you and jungkook in the back, his giggle fills the room.

the family photo he chose to share is one of you, jungkook, and zion in bed. zion is 2 years old in the photo with bedhead. it’s his birthday. there’s a cake and a sleepy smile on his face while you and jungkook have paper party hats on, both cheek to cheek with zion. 

you should’ve seen this coming.

of course zion picked this. his favourite memory in his entire 3 years of living is when he woke up in bed and had birthday cake for breakfast. you all look so happy. 

“guys, look! that’s my mommy and my daddy!” he exclaims, pointing excitedly.

suddenly, all twenty pairs of wide eyes turn toward you and jungkook, and you can’t help but laugh awkwardly, waving at the children. “hi friends,” you say softly. “i’m zion’s mommy, and this is zion’s daddy—”

“daddy bought mommy a new car!” zion adds proudly, his voice echoing in the small space. “can i show and tell the car? is it outside mommy—oh! and he bought her a ring too! it’s so big! like a rock—”

a few children burst into laughter, while others shout out eager questions. just then, one little girl runs up to you, her eyes wide with curiosity. “zion, where is the ring?” she asks, looking up at you with innocent expectation.

zion shrugs, clearly unfazed. “at home,” he replies. “mommy always puts it on and then takes it off. on off, on off, on and off!”

“is your daddy rich?” one child shouts out. 

“my mommy is richer.” zion says proudly. “she’s a lawyer.”

“what’s your daddy’s job?” 

zion shrugs. “i don’t know. he always looks at art on his computer. daddy, what’s your job?”

jungkook chuckles. “i’m a visual director for advertisement.”

“yeah, okay. that.” zion nods. “... anyways, i want to be a lawyer like mommy when i grow up.”

your heart skips a beat as jungkook’s lips tighten. you exchange a panicked glance, his brows furrowing as he takes a deep breath, trying to suppress a laugh amid the unexpected attention and embarrassment from the twenty curious kids.

zion’s teacher gently guides his friend back to the circle, asking zion questions like, “how does this photo make you feel?” “where was this photo taken?” and “why did you choose to share this photo?”

zion, beaming with pride, answers one of the three questions. 

“i wanted to show and tell this photo because i love my family. mommy always kisses my booboos and daddy always makes me pancakes. i love it when we sleep in the same bed and they tickle me in the morning… i think they tickled me here too! and i love it when i'm sick and they buy me lollipops... oh, and i love my daddy because he teached me my abcs...” he says, nodding his head with determination. “but also, i love my mommy more than daddy because i just do.”

the other children burst into laughter, their voices mixing in a delightful cacophony of familial love. some shout out their own preferences, choosing sides between mommy and daddy. you can’t help but chuckle at their innocence. jungkook claps, his laughter joining yours, and together you send zion an enthusiastic thumbs up, a shared pride swelling in your chests as you watch him bask in the attention.

when the circle ends, zion’s teacher insist you two stay for a bit and observe zion with the children. you and jungkook spare 10 extra minutes before needing to leave for work. before you leave, you pick up zion and give him a tight hug. 

“i can’t believe you chose us over your toys, my love! that was so speical to us, z!” you exclaim, showering him with kisses on his cheeks and neck. he giggles, jumping in your arms.

“because i love you, mommy—”

“hello?” jungkook cuts in, scooping zion from your arms. “daddy is here too... say you love daddy too…”

zion nods. “okay, i love daddy too. i love mommy more—h-hey”

jungkook also attacks zion with kisses and tickles, their laughter filling the room. when the moment ends, he puts zion down and ruffles his hair. you and jungkook bid him goodbye, promising to come back for pickup in a few hours.

tonight you two plan on celebrating the fact that you and jungkook—despite all the distress and separation—made it known to zion that you are family no matter what.

he is loved no matter what and he is chosen above all else.

which is why this is so special to you and jungkook—

zion chose you two.

for dinner, you and jungkook decide to cook together. 

you two haven’t done this in almost a year. usually, it’s one or the other. tonight, it was special… and for important reasons, zion requested a cake. you and jungkook grant it under the condition that he entertains himself with his toys while you and jungkook cook. 

jungkook takes over with the prep as you begin to cook the meal together. he teases you a few times, joking that the food is burning. before you know it, he’s wrapping his arms around you and helping you cook. 

it's crazy, isn't it? you would think that jungkook would be sore loser when it comes to rejection... but since it technically wasn’t rejection; he's soaking these moments up. any and every moment with you—he's taking.

“is this really a two person job?”

“mhmm,” jungkook says, sneaking a kiss on your neck. “you know what else is a two person job?”

you tilt your face and squint at him. 

he mimics your expression before pecking your lips. 

“focus on cooking. i know it’s hard with me being this handsome and my big ass dick—”

“shut up.”

“yes honey.”

the rest of the evening slips by in a blur.

the dinner is simple but comforting, the kind that fills your heart as much as your stomach. laughter bounces around the table, mixing with the quiet clinking of plates and the warmth of home. after the meal, the three of you gather to cut the cake, zion’s small hands eager as he grabs his slice. it doesn’t take him long to devour it, chocolate smeared across his cheeks and lips. before you can reach for a napkin, he’s off—bolting toward the living room with that familiar burst of energy.

jungkook chases after him, laughter trailing in their wake, filling the space even after they've left. you excuse yourself, slipping away to the bathroom, the echoes of their voices lingering in the hall.

when you return, you pause at the doorway, the sight before you making your heart melt. your boys—your entire world—are sprawled out on the carpet, toys scattered around them in a beautiful mess. zion’s baby trash talk fills the room, his little hands batting at jungkook’s as they wrestle in the softest, silliest way. it’s these moments that make time stop, where everything feels so perfect it almost hurts.

"what do you love the most about mommy?" jungkook asks, his voice playful but curious, pulling zion close until their noses nearly touch.

zion scrunches up his face, clearly deep in thought, but you know him too well—he’s stalling. "umm... i don't know. she's pretty."

jungkook raises a brow, amused. "yeah, she is... but you pick her over me any chance you get and you don’t know?"

zion shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. "yeah... i love mommy because i just do." then his face lights up as if he’s stumbled upon a great revelation. "but also because she buys me better toys than you..."

jungkook’s laughter rumbles through the room, shaking his head. "i think my favorite thing is how hard she works for our family."

zion’s head tilts, curious. "cos she’s a lawyer?"

"yeah," jungkook agrees, then his voice softens. "but also because she loves us a lot. she does so much to make sure we’re fed, loved, and somehow always on time. you know, z, i’ve loved mommy for a while now... i can’t wait to love her for even longer. you think she’s gonna marry me?"

zion thinks about it for a second, then shrugs again. "maybe."

"maybe?" jungkook gasps, feigning panic. "you're supposed to be on my side!"

zion's laughter explodes as jungkook attacks him with tickles, his tiny body squirming beneath jungkook’s strong arms. the sound of their laughter fills the room, wrapping around you like a warm blanket, making your chest tighten with an emotion you can’t even name. it’s love, yes, but it’s more than that—it’s contentment.

the kind that comes from seeing your entire heart laid out in front of you, scattered in toys and giggles and moments too precious to capture fully.

you step into the scene, quietly noticing how zion’s eyelids have begun to droop, a yawn escaping his small lips. jungkook notices too, his eyes flicking to the clock before he decides it's time to get zion ready for bed. surprisingly, zion doesn’t argue this time. instead, he bounds toward the bathroom, his energy fading but still there in the way only a child can manage.

as jungkook jogs past you, he smacks your ass, a cheeky grin tugging at his lips as he chases after zion. you huff in mock annoyance but can’t help the smile that spreads across your face. there’s a lightness to it all, a warmth that settles deep in your bones, and even as you start tidying up the scattered toys and cluttered living room, you feel that fullness.

by the time you finish, jungkook and zion are still in the bathroom, their voices muffled by the sound of running water and sleepy giggles. you head to the kitchen, your movements slow, deliberate, as you begin washing the dishes, the weight of the day catching up with you. but even through the exhaustion, all you feel is love. it's in the quiet moments, in the laughter, in the way your home feels more alive when the two of them are near.

it's everything.

it always has been.

as you stand by the sink, hands submerged in warm soapy water as you scrub the dinner plates; you can’t help but think about today. 

today was good. 

after you and jungkook left zion’s daycare, you had to get back to the firm. jungkook insisted on driving you, but you brought your car too. instead, you asked him to walk you to your car. happily, he does so. when you two got to your car, you opened the trunk and gave him a gift bag. 

“what’s this?”

“open it.”

“an umbrella?”

“use it.”

he laughed, kissed you, and uttered against your lips; “we’re so not over.”

then, you two parted ways. 

as you wash the dishes, you think back to it.

how his hands were placed around your waist as you two walked out of the daycare. how he kisses you whenever his eyes fall onto your lips. how he laces your fingers together every chance he gets. how he shows up as zion’s father despite all the shit you throw at him… it’s everything to you. 

he’s a good man. 

your mind begins to wander as you think of all the things you want to say to him but can’t. things you’ve kept tucked away, hidden beneath the day-to-day rhythm of life. you think about the moments when everything felt too heavy, when the world seemed to close in on you, and all you wanted was him. 

in the depth of your misery, all you could think of was crawling to him—slipping into his arms, burying your face against his chest, and letting the weight of everything fall away as you cried your heart out.

you wanted to ask him to fix it, to take the burden from you like he always could, as if his love alone had the power to make everything right again.

because love... love should be enough, right? 

in your heart, you know that’s all you’ve ever wanted from him. for the love between you two to be enough to overcome the exhaustion, the stress, the compromises...

you’ve built so much together—beautiful things, a life, a family—but in the quiet moments, you still find yourself wishing it could just be about the two of you again. before the responsibilities, before you had to be anything more than his and him yours.

you imagine a different version of this life (not that you want it. you wouldn’t trade zion for the world). one where you’re still young, where the only thing you have to worry about is each other. no careers pulling you in opposite directions—no complications that need constant juggling or guilt. just him and you, lost in that simple, intoxicating love you both fell into so easily.

if it were like that, you know you’d choose him in a heartbeat. without hesitation, without the doubt that sometimes creeps in when the days get too long. you still would choose him, even now, with all that’s at stake.

because the truth is, you always choose him. 

you choose him in every quiet glance, in every tired smile at the end of a long day. you choose him when he makes you laugh, when he frustrates you, when he softens just enough for you to see that vulnerable part of him he hides from the rest of the world.

and even when things get hard, when life feels overwhelming, and you're standing on the edge of that misery, you still want him. you want him beside you, even if love isn’t always enough to fix everything. because, deep down, you know that with him, it’s enough to keep going.

and maybe that’s what matters most. 

not that love can fix everything, but that it's the reason you keep trying.

but it’s different now in the sense that you have more things to consider. zion, the people around you, your careers, and your own desires. how do you do this? how do you love him and give him everything but at the same time; do it for yourself too?

every day for the past 9 months felt like war. like you had to constantly choose one or the other. 

marriage or new york.

why can’t you have both? 

maybe that’s the answer. 

as jungkook finishes putting zion to bed, the quiet creak of the floorboards announcing his presence behind you. without saying a word, he picks up a dish towel and starts drying the clean plates, his shoulder brushing against yours gently.

"so... i was thinking," he starts casually, “maybe we should start planning for these 3 months. you know, like, zion’s schedule, dinners... that kind of stuff.”

you sigh softly, rinsing a glass. "we’ve got time," you mutter, brushing it off without meeting his gaze. "it doesn’t have to happen right now."

jungkook pauses, drying his hands before leaning against the counter. "i just think we should be prepared," he says, his tone still light but with a hint of seriousness creeping in. “i know you still have time left, but i’m not so sure our plans do—”

“what do you mean our plans? jungkook, you’re not taking zion—” you place the glass in the drying rack, feeling the pressure of the upcoming separation tightening in your chest. "we don’t have to plan every single moment, jungkook. why do you always do this? we have time."

“we have 4 days.”

“4 is plenty.”

“is it?” jungkook asks, voice shaking. “is it easy for you, ___? going back and forth, putting the ring on and off… telling me i can’t make plans—”

“that’s not what i meant—”

“what do you mean, then?”  

the room feels charged with tension as jungkook’s gaze hardens. he can see the conflict written all over your face, the way your shoulders tense and your hands move a little faster. "___, i just want us to be ready," he insists, his voice softening. "we need to figure out how to make this work."

you turn to him, frustration bubbling to the surface. 

"no. it's not easy for me, jungkook. it’s scary as hell when you do this,” you snap. “planning the rest of our life together when we’re only just recovering from the one we lost. i’m scared that if we make plans and start over—we might lose again." your word slip out before you can filter them.

“lose what? we don’t have to have another baby until we’re ready. until you’re ready—”

“it’s not that,” you bite your inner cheeks. “well, it’s a part of it… but what if i do it again? what if i lose myself and lose you? what if i fuck up too much the next time around and you don’t come back? everything we’ve built—us… i… fuck, what if you don’t fight for us because i burned everything down—”

“you won’t.”

“jungkook—”

he huffs. “___, you’re not wildfire, you’re hearth. you’re the reason this all feels like home. yeah, you’ve got heat, but it’s the kind that pulls people closer, not pushes them away. you don’t ruin, you ignite. you’re the reason we’re still burning bright. i burn for you."

you tighten your lips. “have you been watching bridgeton?”

“i’m trying here—”

you kiss him. 

he chases your lips as you pull away.

“i trust you. it’s myself i’m still unsure about. it’s getting better but it just freaks me out when you plan ahead… i used to look forward to those moments, you know? now it feels complicated.”

jungkook nods, bringing his hands to your face. he fixes your hair and looks into your eyes. “honey, even if the flames get high, we’ll handle them together. and if it burns, then fine—then we can slow dance in the burning room. you don’t just burn, you keep me warm. you make everything brighter, stronger. don’t think for a second that i’d let you lose yourself to the fire. i need you. you’re my warmth. you’re the light of my life, ___."

you pout, completely in awe of his words. 

jungkook then leans in and just when he’s about to kiss you, he murmurs; “so are you marrying me or what?” 

his words catch her off guard. as you open your mouth to retort, the teasing glint in his eyes makes you pause. for a moment, you’re defensive, but then the corners of her mouth twitch upward against her will.

“don’t be a coward,” jungkook says. “you’re a million things to me. don’t be that.”

“coward?” you scoff, trying to keep your tone light, as you push away from him. “you think i’m a coward?”

“well, you’re avoiding the tough stuff,” jungkook replies, his playful tone breaking through the tension. “... and we both know you’re tougher than that.”

you can feel the weight of his words settling in, the understanding lingering between you two. the walls of anxiety you built up start to crumble, and you let out a small laugh, shaking your head. 

“maybe you’re right.”

he steps closer, nudging her playfully. “see? that wasn’t so hard, was it? admitting that i’m right… wanting to marry me—”

“whatever you say, you cocky son of a bitch—”

jungkook chuckles, kissing you to shut up.

by the 4th day, jungkook begins to lose his mind.

the waiting has been unbearable. a slow kind of torture that gnaws at him from the inside out. every passing second feels like he's being pulled apart, suspended in limbo, unsure whether his future will unfold with you by his side or shatter into something unrecognizable. his thoughts go in circles—one moment, he’s convinced you’ll say yes, and the next, a creeping doubt settles in, making his chest feel tight.

he imagines every scenario, every possible response, and the worst part is that there’s no way to know.

he has packed all his belongings into boxes that line the walls of his studio apartment, the space feeling more hollow than it ever has. his game plan is simple: if you say yes, he’ll leave the boxes at your place, move back home, and everything will fall into place. if you say no… well, he’ll burn everything and cry the entire way to new york.

kidding.

(maybe)

realistically, jungkook will bring his things to his parents’ house, regroup, and try to act like he isn’t completely devastated. but even if you say no, there’s no universe where you and him don’t end up together eventually.

he’s sure of it.

there’s a certainty in his heart, a pull that refuses to let him believe otherwise. if it takes time, then so be it.

he’ll propose again and again when he gets back, until you see what he sees—that you’re meant for each other.

by the 6th day, yoongi comes in to bring his boxes.

jungkook spent the past 2 days at work, going over files and preparing documents for new york. it felt like going through the motions, like he was acting out a version of his life that wasn’t real yet. when he steps back into his studio, the air feels stagnant, the packed boxes looming like reminders of the uncertainty ahead.

he finds yoongi slumped over on the couch, lazily typing away on his laptop, his legs sprawled across the cushions as if he’s already made himself at home.

“have you been like that all day?” jungkook asks, toeing off his shoes by the door.

yoongi doesn’t look up. he lets out a wide yawn. “yeah,” he says, stretching. “your new york assistant better be patient as hell with you. you're a bitch sometimes... anyways, i actually moved a few boxes and put my clothes in the closet. oh, and i went out for some coffee.”

jungkook squints at him, making a face. “what? i literally have a nespresso machine.”

yoongi stands up from the couch, his hands sinking into the deep pockets of his sweatpants. he tilts his head slightly, a look of lazy amusement on his face.

“no, you don’t.”

jungkook frowns, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. he turns to the kitchen counter, where his nespresso machine has always been, only to find it missing. his heart skips a beat, and he takes a step forward, blinking as if maybe he just missed it somehow.

“what? where’d it go—”

“___ came by and took it,” yoongi says casually, as if he’s talking about the weather.

jungkook’s mind races, processing the information. “what? why would she take it?” his voice is laced with confusion, but there’s a flicker of something else—a hope he doesn’t dare entertain too much just yet.

yoongi rolls his eyes, walking over to the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.

“congratulations on your marriage, jungkook,” he says, twisting the cap off. “now get out of my place. go home.”

jungkook blinks again, his heart pounding as the realization sinks in. you took the nespresso machine.

you took the fucking nespresso machine.

that’s your answer. his chest tightens, but this time it’s not from uncertainty. it’s from the flood of emotions crashing over him—the relief, the joy, the love.

his body moves on autopilot as he starts grabbing things, adrenaline coursing through him. yoongi watches from the couch, a smirk tugging at his lips as he lazily sips his water. “you’re welcome,” he mutters under his breath.

jungkook doesn’t hear him.

his mind is already on you.

the wait is over, and he’s finally going home.

jungkook bursts through your door, calling your name, the sound of his voice filled with excitement and urgency.

“___? honey, where are you—”

time seems to stop as the world around you fades away.

as he catches sight of you on the living room floor, laughter bubbling between you and zion, the warm glow of the afternoon sun filters through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. the ring on your finger catches the light, sparkling as it draws his gaze.

his breath hitches, and his heart feels as if it’s been thrust into a whirlwind—stopping, skipping a beat, and then racing wildly, unable to contain the rush of emotions flooding through him.

it beats for you.

“hi, honey,” you wave him over, your smile radiant and genuine, illuminating the cozy space. “look! zion can count up to thirty now!”

jungkook rushes to your side, the weight of the day lifting with each step. he forgets that yoongi is still with him, his entire focus on you. kneeling beside you, he takes your hand in his, his fingers brushing over the ring—the very symbol of the love and commitment he has always wanted to share with you.

“you’re marrying me?” he asks, disbelief and joy intertwining in his voice. "it's a yes?"

you look at him lovingly, warmth radiating from your gaze—the kind of look that speaks volumes. it’s the same way you’ve always looked at him, but now, there’s an unmistakable depth to it. the courage, the trust, the love shines brighter than ever, enveloping both of you in a cocoon of intimacy.

"i've loved you forever,” you reply, cupping his cheeks with your hands, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. “i have things to work on and so do you... but we're gonna do it together, right? cos this was difficult. this was way too difficult... and loving you has always been clear... so, yeah. i'm toughening it out. i'm trusting you and i'm not going to burn this to the ground. jungkook, you’re the only one i love in this world. you’re the only one who understands me. i fought so many wars in my mind to be with you—it has to be you.”

as jungkook’s lips curve into a radiant smile, a surge of emotion wells up within him. he leans in, capturing you in a kiss filled with promise and passion, pulling zion into a hug, enveloping you both in the warmth of his love. laughter bubbles up, mingling with happy tears as he holds you two close, the room echoing with the sweet sound of family and joy.

“oh my god,” he cries, the happiness spilling over. “i can’t believe this. okay, i’m going to get my stuff and—”

“yoongi?” you call, and he raises his hand, responding as if it were all part of a well-rehearsed script.

“wanna have a sleepover at uncle yoongi’s place? we should give mommy and daddy some privacy, huh?” he explains, scooping zion up into his arms and tickling him, making the little one giggle uncontrollably.

“can we eat ice cream before bed?” zion asks, eyes sparkling with excitement.

“duh!” yoongi replies with a grin.

“yoongi—”

“my son, my rules,” yoongi hushes you playfully. he puts zion down, urging him to say goodbye to you both, and they exchange sweet kisses before you point to the kitchen counter where zion’s overnight bag sits. yoongi picks it up and holds zion’s hand as they leave.

the moment settles around you and jungkook, and he looks at you with a mix of wonder and concern.

“you said yes,” he states, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“i did,” you confirm, a hint of hesitation in your voice.

“what’s with this vibe, then?”

you swallow hard, feeling the weight of what you’re about to say. “jungkook... i still want you to go to new york.”

jungkook tilts his head, his expression shifting to confusion.

“are you guys coming with me?”

you shake your head gently. “no.”

“no?”

you reach for him. he lets you hold his hand. bringing it your lips, you kiss them. “jungkook, i don’t want it to be one or the other. let’s do both, okay? go to new york. let’s get married. both. we do both.” 

“but 3 months?”

“we’ll come and visit!” you suggest, fully meaning to do so. truth be told, you already bought your tickets for the first visit. “i decided to take a leave from work for the rest of the year—why are you looking at me like that?"

"that's huge. are you sure that's what you want?"

you nod. "i want you."

"oh god..."

you laugh. "i want to get this right and i want to be okay. i want to figure it all out and i want to do it with you by my side. so, do this for us…. and 3 months isn’t forever. you’ll be back soon and we’ll be visiting every month. it’s too much of a hassle to move… but i truly want you to go and explore your options. i want you to go knowing that i don’t only love you for who you are and for what you’ll ever be—but i love you so much that i believe in you. in the dreams you have and the dreams i have for you. so, go. go, and when you come back, come back home to us—to me.”

the sincerity in your words wraps around him like a warm embrace, and jungkook feels the weight of your love and belief in him, making him all the more determined to chase after his dreams. he nods slowly, understanding the depth of what you’re offering.

in that moment, everything feels right.

"w-we can’t—" your voice breaks, barely a whisper, trembling with hesitation. your heart is pounding, the room feeling warmer by the second.

“why not?” jungkook’s eyes are wide, pleading, filled with a desire that mirrors your own but with an urgency that’s hard to ignore. his breath fans over your lips, just inches apart.

he’s been kissing you for almost 20 minutes, his lips soft but persistent, his tongue teasing yours in ways that make it impossible to think straight. his hands have long since slipped under your shirt, fingers trailing over your bare skin, sending sparks up your spine.

the heat between you two is overwhelming, consuming. his touch is soft but possessive, his fingertips grazing the edge of your bra as he pulls you closer, pressing you flush against him. you feel his heart racing beneath his chest, a rhythm that matches your own.

every inch of you craves him, craves more.

“i want you,” his voice is a low, husky whisper, filled with need. his hands move slowly, deliberately, like he’s memorizing every curve of your body, every reaction. “i want all of you.”

his words send a shiver down your spine, your resolve weakening with every second. he looks at you like you’re everything he’s ever wanted, like he’s been waiting for this moment forever... and you have too.

the tension between you two has been building for so long, the unspoken feelings bubbling under the surface, waiting to explode.

his lips find your neck, pressing soft, heated kisses there, and you arch into him, your breath hitching. your hands tangle in his hair, pulling him closer, your body betraying the protests on your lips. every touch, every kiss, makes it harder to think, harder to hold onto the reasons why you shouldn’t.

you can feel how much he wants you, the way his hands tighten their grip on your waist, the way he presses himself harder against you, his need undeniable. his lips move back to yours, capturing them in a deep, searing kiss that leaves you breathless. and in that moment, it’s like nothing else matters but him, but this.

you’ve never felt anything like this—so intense, so consuming.

“i’m on my period.”

jungkook bites his bottom lip. 

“so?”

“i think i’m gonna be more sensitive and it's gonna be so messy—”

“are you okay with being more sensitive? we don’t have to fuck if you don’t want to.” he insist, putting you first. your eyes flicker to his cock, poking through his jeans. "and mess is just mess. we can clean it up."

“i want to,” you say. “should we just put a towel underneath?” 

he nods, getting up from your bed and out the hall to the linen closet. there, he picks the thicket towel and hurries back to your room. he bends over and places the towel on your spot. you get up to go to the bathroom and freshen up as he prepares. 

when you get back, jungkook is already naked. he grabs you by the waist and pins you down on the bed. 

“let me suck your dick first.”

jungkook gulps. 

“actually, c-can i.. can i fuck your tits first?”

you laugh, puckering up for him. he leans over and kisses you. against the kiss, you answer him; “whatever you want, honey.”

with that, jungkook sets himself on top and places his cock in between your boobs. his cock is bigger than ever. you take it with two hands, pumping him slowly and adding some pressure to it. he throws his head back, hissing at the perfection of your touch.

“f-fuck…”

then, you let go and hold your boobs together. jungkook then begins to pump himself in between. the tip of his cock pokes out every so often, causing him to pant at the sight. you lower your chin, opening your mouth for his cock to enter it. jungkook takes the hint and shoves his dick inside. 

you suck on it.

twirling your tongue around and playing with his tip—jungkook just might combust. you breathe through your nose as he begins to fuck your mouth. he can’t help it and you wouldn’t want it any other way. jungkook fucks your mouth in a desperate and almost brutal way. god, did he need this. 

he loves this. 

jungkook places his hands against the wall to help his stability. as he pulls himself out, you hold his cock with your two hands and continue to give him a handjob. he loses his breath for a second when he looks down and sees you drag your tongue around his hard cock. 

he moans, eyes shut and the feeling of the pit of his stomach twisting. 

“g-gonna cum—fuck, fuck, fuck!” jungkook chants.

you suck his dick more intensely. taking in every inch of him and tiring your inner cheeks out—he finally cums inside your mouth. 

pulls out, you don’t let go. you continue to pump his length and kiss it. 

jungkook feels like he’s going insane. he moves his body and matches to your eye level. he kisses you, tasting a bit of himself. 

“thank you.”

“any time, daddy.”

“oh god—”

you laugh. 

jungkook wipes the cum that spilled outside of your mouth with his thumb and shoves it in your mouth. you suck it clean. 

“do you want me to eat you out?”

“that’s nasty!” you cry, hating the idea. “just put it in.”

jungkook smirks. “no prep?”

“aren’t i wet already?”

he ignores you and fixes your position. he lifts your hips, dragging you closer to him. jungkook then places himself on top of you and his cock in between your legs. he parts your folds, looking down at your bloody entrance.

“ready?”

you nod, lacing your hands together around his neck. he lets out a breathy moan as he sinks himself inside you. 

you wince. 

“f-fuck, should i pull out?”

you shake your head. “n-no.”

“does it hurt?”

“yeah.”

he lowers his head, placing kisses on your neck and collarbone. “sorry, mama.”

“why are you so fucking big?” you hiss, feeling his thickness push inside you even more. your body jolts and he chuckles. 

“that big?”

“mhmm,” you agree, closing your eyes to help regulate the burning feeling in between your legs. “j-just keep going. think it’s better when you—oh, f-fuck. yeah. like t-that, daddy. s-so nghhh, f-fuck. so good.”

“you like that, mama?” jungkook asks, pumping himself inside and out of you deeper and deeper. “fuck, you’re so tight. so fucking tight. can we do this again next month?”

"oh my god!"

you hit his shoulders and he laughs. 

it’s not long before your arms wrap around him. you drag your nails against his skin, digging deep as he fucks you. 

jungkook rests his forehead against yours. there, he watches as you make fuck me eyes at him, and as you wince and gasp between each thrust. your arms move up, holding onto his shoulders. 

then, you feel it. 

the tingle in between your legs and the tightness that follows. jungkook’s cock throbs inside you and you feel it like never before. 

wrapped in his warmth, your heart swells with a love that feels like a tsunami—overwhelming and unstoppable. it’s a powerful wave that crashes over, rising higher with every shared look, every gentle touch. you can feel it building inside me, a rush of emotions that surges forth like water cascading from a great height, and you’re completely swept away.

you’re done for.

the intimacy of this moment is everything. his pants and murmurs of ‘i love you’s echo in your ears, and the way he looks at you with light in his eyes make your heart race like never before. 

it makes you want to cry. 

you’ve known and felt loved by jungkook before. for a long time now actually… but never like this. never has it ever felt this raw and real. 

never has it ever felt this consuming. 

it engulfs you, leaving me breathless yet exhilarated. in this moment, everything else fades away. there are no worries, no doubts—just you and jungkook suspended in time, hearts beating in sync. you can feel the tide of your feelings, crashing and receding, drawing me closer to him with each pulse.

as you gaze into his eyes, you realize that this love isn’t just a fleeting moment in time. 

it’s endless. 

uh oh. 

i’m falling in love. 

you want to surrender to it completely. to be swept away in the depths of our intimacy. with jungkook, there’s a promise of haven in chaos and as the waves of love continue to swell, you know that you’re more than ready to embrace every moment. 

to let this tsunami carry you wherever it may lead.

“fuck, ___… a-are you crying? i’m sorry. i’ll—”

you hold onto him. 

uh oh.

i’m falling in love again.

eyes burning with your tears, heart lighter than ever. 

“i love you, jungkook.”

“i love you too, mama.”

jungkook kisses you, continuing to ask if you’re okay. you assure him you are and that period sex is a lot more emotional than you expected it to be. it’s not freaky—it’s just a fucking moment. he continues to fuck you, digging in deeper and deeper. 

you think to yourself; no one will ever know me the way he does. 

no one will ever love me and want me as wholeheartedly as he does… for that, you’re grateful and fall in love with the closeness everything has brought you two. 

you lose yourself to him.

he carries you through 3 more orgasms before helping you up from bed, starting you and bath, and cleaning you. together, you two sit in the bathtub and hold each other. you two talk about the plans that you have and what to expect during the next 3 months. 

as you lay next to jungkook, his soft breathing fills the quiet room. his body sinks deeper into sleep. you feel the gentle rise and fall of his chest against yours, his arm draped loosely over your waist, pulling you closer. the warmth of his skin against yours, the weight of him in the stillness—it all feels like home.

the world outside could be moving a million miles an hour, but here, with him, time seems to slow down, just for the two of you.

yet, something stirs within you, a reminder of a truth you’ve held onto for years—time doesn’t stop for broken hearts. it never has, it never will. yet, it always seems to move a little slower when love slips through your fingertips—when it’s about him.

something you’ve always known about loving jungkook is that he fears the end. he’s never been good with losing people or things, never able to fully let go. he loves and lives like he’s running out of time, even though he isn’t. but that’s what makes him so different, so captivating—he loves in full force. he loves with his entire heart... and he loves with all his time.

as his breaths even out, you stay awake, thoughts swirling around you. you realize how long it took to get here, how many battles you fought—most of them with yourself.

pride had been a constant companion, keeping you at arm's length from the very love you craved. there were moments where you couldn’t imagine letting yourself be this vulnerable, this open. loving him meant risking the one thing you protected the most—your heart.

but somewhere along the way, you let that pride slip away, piece by piece. maybe it was the way he looked at you, the way he never let go, no matter how many times you tried to push him away. maybe it was realizing that you didn’t have to be so strong all the time, that with him, you didn’t have to carry the weight of everything alone. the moment you put pride aside, everything shifted—time, love, and life all started falling into place.

you’ve both waited for this.

for the space to just be with each other without the weight of past mistakes or the fear of losing what you’d built. now, time feels like it’s on your side. for so long, it seemed like you were always too late or too soon, like everything was just out of reach. but here, in this moment, with his warmth wrapping around you, you know you’ve finally caught up to where you were meant to be.

he stirs a little, tightening his arm around you as he shifts closer. a soft smile tugs at your lips, the kind of smile that only comes when you realize that all the walls you’d built were finally down. you’ve let go of the need to protect yourself from him, because you know now that loving him is worth more than holding onto pride.

the first light of morning spills through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. jungkook wakes slowly, his sleepy eyes finding yours, a lazy grin spreading across his face. in that moment, without either of you needing to say a word, you both know—time isn’t something to fear anymore.

it’s finally yours.

“coffee?” he mumbles, voice still heavy with sleep.

"coffee."

you move together, the rhythm of your morning routine as easy and familiar as breathing. side by side, you make coffee, the smell of it filling the kitchen, your hands brushing as you pass him his cup.

and as you stand there, cups in hand, you feel a quiet sense of peace. the pride that once kept you from this moment is gone, and in its place is something stronger—trust, love, and the certainty that no matter what time brings, you’ll face it together.

whether it's the beginning or the end;

you and jungkook are timeless.

[ladyfocalors]

Understanding Bright Things and Kind Hearts

summary: Kalim is friendly, excitable, genuinely the nicest person you’ve ever met. But you have spent enough time around him that you start to pick up on a few things and keep those points in mind.

pairing: kalim al asim x gn!reader

warnings: Jamil's overblot and the attempt to harm Kalim is mentioned but not detailed (only one line), emotional suppression, mention of exploitation (taking advantage of Kalim's generosity)

word count: 2k

the fic about this sweet sunshine is the one with the most warnings. i have too many thoughts on kalim. he takes up too much space in my brain. him and jamil both, hate these two so much /j

Understanding the Housewarden of Scarabia

(thoughts in the head of a self-proclaimed expert on the subject, or at least trying to be an expert)

i. Accept that Kalim Al-Asim is a lot to handle.

There are many ways to describe the housewarden of Scarabia, Kalim Al-Asim. He is cheerful, excitable, endlessly kind. But he can be overwhelming.

Kalim enters the room the way fireworks enter the night sky: bright, loud and impossible to ignore. He moves like the sunlight bursting though a storm. And once he notices you, once his focus lands on you like a beam of light, there is no escaping. Not that he would ever trap you, per se, it's just that Kalim's enthusiasm is like a riptide and once you're caught you might as well go along with it.

"Prefect!" His voice rings across the hall, his voice startling nearby students. You only have a few seconds to brace yourself before he is upon you, eyes lit with excitement. "You have to come to Scarabia tonight! We're having a feast, and you are invited."

You open your mouth to respond, but he barrels on before you get the chance.

"Wait, did I invite you yesterday?" He pauses for one second, then waves a hand dismissively. "You should come again anyway! We have so much food, and I can ask the kitchen to make whatever you like! Ooh–" He suddenly leans in, eyes shining as if he just had the most brilliant idea in the world. "What’s your favourite dish? I’ll have Jamil make a whole platter just for you!

We just got a shipment of fruits from the Scalding Sands," he continues, his hands gesturing wildly. "They’re supposed to be super sweet, but also a little tangy, and also really juicy, so I definitely want you to try them–"

"Kalim," you say, voice a bit louder, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to slow him down.

He stops immediately, tilting his head. "Yes?"

"First of all, breathe."

He blinks, then lets out a quick laugh and does, in fact, take a breath.

"Secondly," you continue, raising an eyebrow, "calm down."

Kalim nods.

"You should come to the feast," he insists, now bouncing on the balls of his feet. "It wouldn’t be the same without you!"

Before you can formulate an actual excuse—though, really, there isn't one, because when Kalim invites you somewhere, it’s more of an enthusiastic assumption than a question, and you find it difficult to say no to him—Grim speaks up.

"Free food?" Grim’s ears twitch. "We're going, hench-human!"

"See?" Kalim says, clapping his hands together. "Grim gets it!"

Grim puffs up proudly.

And just like that, the matter is settled. Kalim flashes you a blinding smile, as if you’ve done something wonderful simply by agreeing to him. He then begins ushering you down the hall, already talking about all the dishes you just have to try.

You sigh, resigned but amused.

There is no arguing with Kalim Al-Asim. There is only keeping up.

ii. Kalim is not naive. He just refuses to be anything but kind.

There is an assumption people make about Kalim Al-Asim.

It’s an easy one, and you understand why they make it.

Because Kalim is bright. He is the kind of person who welcomes everyone with open arms and never seems to expect anything in return. His generosity is effortless, his trust given freely, his forgiveness even freer. He greets the world with the boundless enthusiasm.

And this is why people assume he is naive.

You did, too, once.

The realization doesn’t hit you all at once.

It only clicks when Grim, disgruntled and munching on yet another plate of Scarabia’s food, grumbles, "I don’t get it. Doesn’t he know people are using him?"

He doesn’t sound particularly concerned, more confused, really. Like he’s watching a mouse walk into a cat’s open mouth and wondering why it hasn’t run away yet.

You don’t know how to answer him. You’ve wondered the same thing. You’ve seen it happen yourself, the way people flock to Kalim when they need something, the way they sing his praises.

And Kalim, warm and trusting as ever, lets them.

So you ask him.

"Kalim," you start carefully. "Do you ever wonder if people only stick around because they want something from you?"

He blinks, surprised by the question. Then he laughs, all light and easy. "Oh, sure! Happens all the time."

You stare at him, quite dumbfounded. "You know?"

"Of course I know!" He grins at you, as if this is obvious. "I mean, I’m not dumb. I can tell when people are just being nice because they want a favour. Or money. Or gifts." He shrugs, unconcerned.

"So why do you still… you know, go along with it?" You frown.

Kalim leans back, the jewellery around his arms catching the light.

"Because it doesn’t really matter," he says simply. "If I have something I can give, why not give it? If someone’s hungry, I’ll feed them. If they need help, I’ll help. Maybe they only see me as a way to get things, but if I have something to give, I will."

He turns his head to look at you then, eyes bright and unwavering.

"Besides," he says, softer now, "I don’t want to be the kind of person who stops being nice just because other people aren’t."

You don’t know what to say.

Because Kalim does not say this with bitterness. There is no resentment in his voice, no anger in the way he speaks. There is only certainty that he is doing what he thinks is right.

Perhaps it's best you say nothing.

And that’s when you realize that Kalim’s kindness isn’t something fragile or foolish. It isn’t a weakness. He chooses kindness, over and over again, no matter how many times people take advantage of it.

Not because he doesn’t see but because he does.

You like that about him.

iii. If Kalim likes you, you will know.

Kalim cannot hide it when he likes someone.

You don’t notice it at first. Or rather, you chalk it up to Kalim just being Kalim.

The invitations to Scarabia? Those happen all the time, and to plenty of people. The food set aside just for you? Well, Kalim is generous, surely, he does this for others, too. The way he brightens whenever you enter the room? Kalim brightens for a lot of things.

It isn’t until Jamil sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose, and mutters, "This is getting ridiculous," that you even think to reconsider.

"Getting ridiculous?" you echo, watching as Kalim darts across the Scarabia common room, almost tripping in his haste to meet you.

"You’ll see," Jamil says, sounding both resigned and vaguely amused.

You do see.

You see it when he practically vibrates with excitement whenever you’re near, how he always tries to be near you, how his laughter always seems louder when it’s directed at something you said. You see it in the way he lights up at the smallest things you do. You see it when he brings you gifts, although way too extravagant for you. But there are gifts that are more personal too. A flower he thought you’d like, a trinket that reminded him of you, a sweet treat he got just because he knew you’d enjoy it.

So, Kalim does not know how to hide things—not his happiness, not his excitement, and certainly not his affections.

You start to wonder how you hadn’t noticed it before.

"Kalim," you say, watching him eagerly.

"Yeah?" He beams.

You tilt your head. "Do you treat all your friends like this?"

Kalim pauses, blinking at you. Then he grins, as bright as the desert sun.

"Well, I try to make everyone happy, but–" He stops, then scratches his head, looking a little sheepish. "I guess I do a bit more for you."

"Why?" you ask, already knowing the answer but wanting to hear him say it.

"Because I like you!" Kalim exclaims, beaming. "You’re amazing, and I want to make you happy! Why wouldn’t I?"

Your heart stumbles over itself.

Because, of course he would say that. Of course, Kalim wouldn’t dance around the truth, he wouldn’t hesitate.

You don’t know what to say.

Kalim doesn’t seem to need a response, though, already launching into a story about something that happened earlier that day, eyes sparkling, hands animated.

And you sit there, warmth blooming in your chest, feeling a little overwhelmed and a little breathless and a lot happy.

iv. Kalim is cheerful even if he is upset.

Kalim does not lie. He simply deflects.

But you do start noticing certain things about this behaviour.

A bad day becomes not so bad, according to him. A problem becomes nothing to worry about. A betrayal becomes it is okay Jamil, even if Jamil overblotted and wanted him to die. He simply brushes past them before they have the chance to take root in his mind and consume his thoughts and actions.

The next time you notice it, it’s during a harmless conversation. Or at least, you assume it is, because Kalim is laughing, tossing back his head.

It’s only when the other student leaves that you realize something is off.

Kalim’s laughter fades too quickly. His shoulders droop a little. Then he turns to you, grinning as if nothing happened, ready to move on.

And you, well, you could move on. You could let the moment slip by, the way Kalim clearly wants it to. You could pretend.

Instead, you sit beside him.

He glances at you, curious and still smiling.

You don’t address it directly. You don’t ask, Are you okay? or Did that bother you? Because Kalim, being Kalim, would wave it off and you didn't want to be brushed off. Instead, you say, "That wasn’t a very nice thing for them to say."

Kalim blinks at your words. His smile doesn’t waver, but it stills.

Then he laughs, shaking his head. "Ah, it’s fine! It wasn’t–" He stops, eyes flicking to your expression, and then tries again. "It’s not a big deal."

You nod, as if accepting that. And maybe you are. Maybe it isn’t a big deal. But you’re not going to brush past it just yet.

"They wouldn’t have said it if they thought you’d get mad," you point out, watching him carefully. "They knew you’d let it slide."

Kalim hums, neither agreeing nor disagreeing. He fidgets the jewellery on his arms, then shrugs. "I guess?"

"You really don’t mind?"

He hesitates. Then, softly, he says, "I don’t like it. But getting upset won’t change anything, right?" He grins, lopsided this time. "If I don’t make it a big deal, then it won’t be one."

There’s something almost childlike in that logic, and yet, it is so very Kalim.

After a pause, you say, "I think you should at least be allowed to be annoyed."

Kalim looks at you, blinking in surprise. "Hmm?"

"If something bothers you, I think you should be able to say it." You lean back, bracing your weight on your hands. "Even if it doesn’t change anything, doesn’t it feel better to just… say it out loud?"

Kalim tilts his head, considering. He looks thoughtful. And then, hesitantly, he mutters, "That guy was kind of rude."

You nod, solemn, but a smile still breaks through because he does not sound upset or angry. "Yeah. He was."

Then, suddenly, he laughs.

"You said it like it's a guilty secret. It's okay though, at least you said it," you say.

"Thank you!"

And he is back to being normal again.

v. There will be no guidebook on him. He is not a puzzle to solve. He is a person to cherish.

At some point, you stop trying to figure out Kalim Al-Asim.

It’s not that you understand him perfectly now, not that you have decoded some great mystery surrounding him. It’s just that, somewhere along the way, you realize that there was never a mystery to begin with.

Yet, that doesn’t make him simple.

People mistake brightness for shallowness. They see Kalim’s open hands, his easy laughter, his warmth, and they assume there is nothing deeper to find. They do not look for the moments in between.

And maybe that is the real lesson here.

So, there is no guidebook to Kalim Al-Asim.

Kalim Al-Asim isn’t a mystery to be solved.

He is a person to be loved.

And, somehow, he has chosen to love you, too.

© ladyfocalors

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[afflatusssss]

//HADES 2 UPDATE SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT !!! (Icarus x Melinoe)

UM???!! Excuse me???? *PULLS MY HAIR* MY GOD OKAY....FINE..I MEAN I GUESS I'M JUST GOING TO SIT HERE AND SCREAM RIGHT...JUST....there is NO WAY and i mean NO WAY you can look me in the eye and say icarus has no feelings for melinoe ; _ ; ) my god the yearning is driving me MAD !!!!

and okay, here's what I find really interesting. i know moros and nemesis are also going to be romanceable (i say also because, my god, after all the dialogue i've read, supergiant is definitely making icarus a romance option unless they wanna play some hilariously cruel joke on the shippers *cough* true believers)---but that said, the chemistry that mel has with icarus is...quite frankly, unparalleled. don't get me wrong, i like her with nem and moros as well, each ship delivers an interesting dynamic...but her relationship with icarus just really hits different. he's not a god. he's a mortal turned shade after an untimely demise, someone who was supposed to be nothing but a wisp of himself. physically, yes, but also just...he's living in his father's shadow as well. he still is. there's that kind of inherent pressure to it. SOUND FAMILIAR?? icarus and mel are parallels. it's CRAZY how good their narratives mesh. mel has displayed, on more than one or two occasions, a neuroticism and perfectionism born out of IMMENSE internal and external pressure---from herself, from Hecate (not with malice as we know, but necessity or duty), Odysseus, the shades/denizens of her father's domain, etc... EVERYONE is expecting her to live up to this image she never chose, and yes she wants to save her family and kingdom, but it's still a difficult life. she's also living under the shadow of a family legacy. mel and icarus, i think, understand each other in ways that even the game hasnt really explicitly stated, but you Feel it. in the way they talk to each other, try to reassure one another. icarus believes in mel, not in the "because you're destined to save EVERYONE, it's what you were trained and raised to do" way but in the "i genuinely think you're amazing, and so why wouldn't you?" way. likewise, mel has always believed in icarus. she never viewed him as anything less than his father. you see that in the way she encourages him to build his inventions, the way she praises all the things he makes her. and man idk just....mel has been living the crossroads for so long, it's really all she's ever known, which is why she's so desperate to help her Olympian family, why she wants to get out and Do Something; she can't stand still. icarus can't stand still either, heck, his whole motif is FLYING, all the freedom and longing that comes with it. you know why? in the greek myth, and yes it was already mentioned in a few lines, he was cooped up in a tower pretty much all his childhood because minos wanted to keep his father hostage. both mel and icarus know what it feels to be helpless, to want to do something, to crave this freedom and power---maybe set in different contexts but still. Still.

and okay moving back, i highly doubt icarus' feelings are one-sided. just....the way melinoe talks to him, responds to him. she lights up almost instantly. there's this softness to it, and i would argue (maybe my ears just deceive me) even a wistful longing??? of all the things supergiant could do with their story, why include ^^^ ALL. THESE. EXCHANGES. besides the kinda funny fact that it sounds like melinoe is trying to seek the approval of mom here, just...why??? why does she care this much???? it could be from friendship yea but....idk. just listen LISTEN to the way these lines are delivered when you can. there's so much left unsaid. it's so...different from her interactions with moros and nem??? like yes there's a warmth as well in certain moments, but there's also that kind of...awkward formality? it's like we're still seeing that version of Princess Melinoe when she's with them. she hasn't really put down her walls with nem mainly because she still isnt sure about how the goddess of retribution really perceives her---she hurls insults left and right, and what exactly can she make of that? moros, also, hasn't quit with the formalities. he admires and respects her, but he hasn't really peeled back her layers yet, the ones underneath who she is as a goddess and princess. but icarus has seen it all. he's been with her since her childhood, long before she was ready to be anything, much less a slayer of time and everything else. he wasn't very substantial in form, which is why they underwent that entire dangerous ritual that cost mel her arm: she cared about him so much, and it's clear she still does. i won't get into the tantalizing aspect of icarus' guilt and how that affected their relationship (not great for them, but delicious for the narrative) and this, my dear friends who have somehow made it this far into my delirious rant, is exactly why i love that he calls her "meli." not princess, the way moros and nem do. not "melinoe" the way hecate does. not "goddess" the way odysseus does. not "young one" in the way skelly does. or the kinda silly, super short "M" that hermes does. only two characters really have a special nickname for her that's similar to the kinds best friends give each other, intimate but playful. dora (who refers to her as "mel"), and icarus, who will always call her meli---it's his sign of affection, regardless of who she is. he's never called her anything different. okay yea it's like...1AM right now, I just finished a run and i'm high on waxwitch okkaaayyy ; _ ; )

[awearywritersworld]

the day of my execution

sukuna x reader summary: gojo, yuuji, and sukuna discuss what happened at the store. sukuna begins to consider your mortality like never before and takes care of you when you're sick. w/c: 2.7k tags/warnings: fluff. mentions of attempted kidnapping. banter. reader has the flu. aged up!yuuji. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. a/n: sorry for disappearing for so long, but here is the long awaited next chapter. i've put a second a/n at the end, so i hope you'll read it. please excuse me talking out of my ass trying to rationalize my application of jujutsu, but if gege does it, so can i. i hope it kind of makes sense though. series masterlist // masterlist

truthfully, yuuji expects his wednesday morning to be as uneventful as any other, but when he stands in front of the bathroom sink to brush his teeth, his eyes are not the only ones staring back at him.

"what d'ya want?" he groans. "it's too early for this."

"we need to talk."

sukuna doesn't give his vessel a chance to respond before he begins recounting the events of the previous night, a story which has yuuji's face cycling between surprise, worry, and dismay. "the man claimed someone sent him?"

"that's what i said," sukuna responds impatiently.

"why would anyone be after her? i don't understand."

"would it kill you to use your brain for once?" sukuna questions, having had the entirety of the night to ponder the situation. "think, idiot. who would be interested in using her in some ploy? against you. against... us."

yuuji's eyes widen. "the higher ups?

"no one else would be so brazen."

it strikes sukuna as ironic that just days after he relayed the cruelness he endured at the hands of jujutsu society's higher ups a millenia ago, you too almost became one of their victims. it's a reality that he despises.

"i should call gojo—"

"that is out of the question."

"do you want to keep her safe or not?"

sukuna scoffs. "this is how we keep her safe. if the higher ups are after her, we can't trust other sorcerers."

yuuji almost seems offended on gojo's behalf. after all, he's known him for the better part of a decade. "i'd trust gojo with my life."

"well this isn't your life we're talking about. this is much more important."

yuuji chuckles. "i know. that's exactly why we need help."

before sukuna can protest, yuuji's dialing his old sensei and asking to meet somewhere they can speak privately.

that's how they end up at a small bakery on the outskirts of tokyo, sukuna relaying the story for the second time that morning.

once he finishes, gojo leans back in his chair and folds his hands behind his head. "well, i don't think you're wrong about the higher ups being involved."

"so what are we supposed to do?" yuuji asks. "they might use her to get to me, but you don't think the higher ups would actually put her life in danger, do you?"

though yuuji's question is directed toward gojo, it isn't him that answers.

"you're as naive as ever," sukuna scoffs. "they'll stop at nothing to achieve their own ends."

gojo grimaces, a silent agreement with the assertion. "i can do some poking around, see who ordered it to be done."

"and what exactly is that going to do? there's no reasoning with them."

"a fact i am well aware of," the white haired man narrows his eyes at the king of curses. "but there is leverage in power, something i happen to have more of than anybody—"

"almost anybody—"

"so as the strongest, i'll take care of this as soon as i can."

"hey, um, so as productive as all the dick measuring is," yuuji interrupts. "it doesn't keep her safe in the meantime."

"i have an idea in that regard," sukuna says. "it's an ancient practice, and while it doesn't offer any protective measures, it will allow me to find her if they make another attempt like last night."

gojo leans forward, clearly interested to hear more.

"i can imbue a talisman with a part of myself and if she wears it, it will act as a beacon for her location."

"with part of yourself? as in, your cursed energy?" yuuji speculates. "wouldn't that do more harm than good? attract cursed spirits and whatever?"

"no, i'm not a fool. it's not cursed energy."

sukuna is hesitant to clarify further. he'd done something similar when creating his fingers, but it was different then. it was a selfish endeavor to preserve his life long after it was his time to die. it was a dark sort of jujutsu, one meant only to bring destruction.

but intention is important in sorcery. it can change the very essence of the practice.

for the first time in his life, sukuna is acting selflessly, concerned only with your protection. it's a pure sort of jujutsu this time around, one that allows him to impart a piece of himself that isn't tainted by cursed energy.

and because of that, that part of him would be unprotected. it'd leave him uniquely vulnerable. it's a steep and dangerous measure. that's why the practice had been forgotten long before the modern age.

"then what could it possibly be?" it's quiet for a moment as yuuji's question hangs in the air.

"it's your soul, isn't it?" the disbelief lacing gojo's voice is quite plain, but he's heard whispers of such techniques. "you'd give her a piece of your soul."

sukuna's never been one for unfinished business, so it's no surprise when he finds himself on the couch, intent on finishing the stranger. besides, it had become clear he'd been focusing on the wrong aspects of the book when he first began reading it.

he's three chapters from the end when he hears a loud shatter from the kitchen, followed by a sharp gasp. the broken glass hasn't even finished sliding across the floor before he's at your side.

"what happened?" the alarm in his voice doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"nothing, nothing," you assure him. "i just dropped my cup."

crouching down, you reach for one of the bigger pieces before your hand is swiftly smacked away. "don't."

"it's fine. it's only a little glass."

when you reach for it again, he grabs your wrist. "you troublesome little thing. do you ever listen?"

"i don't make a habit of it."

"i know. the question was rhetorical."

sukuna's already noticed the shards of glass surrounding your bare feet, so he wastes no time in picking you up and placing you on the countertop.

"don't move." he says it in such a way that, for once, you don't even think about disobeying him.

he all but stomps out of the room, returning moments later with a broom and dust pan. there's a small smile playing on your lips as you watch him gather the larger pieces before sweeping up the rest.

and you know, it's really not fair. sukuna could even call it a cosmic injustice, the way he has to worry about broken glass and fragile fingertips.

but he likes you and he likes the pads of your fingers, particularly the way they feel against his skin and run through his hair, so he swallows his pride.

it's been consuming him lately— the fact that you are just as easily broken as the glass that littered the kitchen tile. he never considered just how many ways there are for a human to die until you were nearly taken from him.

so once he's done, he rests the broom and dustpan against the wall and stands in front of you, his hips situated between your knees.

reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a necklace and your mouth falls open in shock. a delicate chain is threaded around his fingers, while its ruby pendant dangles in the air. "i want you to have this."

"what.. what is it?"

he snorts. "you don't know what a necklace is?"

you let out a breath of a laugh. "of course i do. i'm just surprised."

you hold up your palm and he places the necklace there gently. inspecting the gem, you notice it bears a striking resemblance to the color of his eyes.

strangely, it's almost as if it's heavier than it should be— like it's weighed down by some importance beyond your comprehension.

"it's beautiful," you tell him honestly. "are you sure?"

"sure of what?"

"that i should have it."

he pauses before responding, taking in the way you're so gingerly holding it. he's scared you've realized what he's actually giving you. that you're repulsed by it.

he's hesitant when he asks, "why would you think otherwise?"

"i didn't do anything to deserve something like this."

sukuna breathes a sigh of relief. "you are ever the fool."

his hands find your hips, pulling you off the counter and onto your feet. he plucks the necklace from your hand, then shifts to stand behind you.

moving your hair to the side, his fingers brush lightly against your skin. "the necklace is undeserving of adorning your neck. not the other way around."

and he knows it's the truth. a piece of him, attached to a creature so lovely she should be out of his reach... well, that's just unseemly, isn't it?

"but promise me something anyway."

"anything," you say without delay.

he situates the chain around your neck, the pendant lying in the space where your collarbones meet, and fastens the clasp. when you turn to face him, you're met with an alarmingly grave expression.

"promise you won't ever take it off."

you fiddle with the ruby somewhat nervously, feeling as if you're missing some important piece of the puzzle.

you nod in response to his request, but it isn't enough for him.

"say it."

"i promise."

he can see that you're biting back questions, so he explains, "if you're wearing that, i'll always know where to find you."

it finally dawns on you, for the first time, how much the incident at the store truly affected him. it's not the way he ended those men that clued you in, nor is it the way he pleaded with you to forgive him.

it happens in this moment. it's the gentleness of his voice, despite his underlying desperation. it's the way he's watching you carefully, as if you're likely to disappear. it's the fact he wouldn't let you clean up a mess of your own making, because he can't stand the thought of seeing you bleed.

"i... i don't know what to say."

"well, that's a first."

"shut up," you punch his shoulder. "you're ruining the moment."

"right, my bad," he chuckles and glances down at the gemstone. "do you like it?"

you let out a breath. "of course. i love it."

he smiles at your words— soft and genuine— truly a rare sight. "good."

you notice that he's looking at you. really looking at you. his eyes shift away from yours and over to each of your temples. then down to your nose. your mouth. even your chin.

he takes in every detail and he feels like he's in your debt simply for gazing at your countenance.

you almost regret it when your hands curl around the collar of his shirt and pull his lips to yours. you should have savored his smile, spent time committing it to memory.

although, that's soon forgotten as you feel the curve of his mouth deepen while his lips move against yours.

it isn't until day three of your ceaseless coughing and sneezing that sukuna adds them to his list— broken glass, fragile fingertips, coughs, and sniffles.

his concern is clear from the way he dotes on you. he brings you cold cloths, makes you tea, massages your neck, runs you baths.

now he's on his way to a twenty four hour pharmacy to pick up more medicine to reduce your fever, and while it's only a block away, he's still doing it alone.

but not even for a moment does he consider running off to burn the world's largest city to the ground. the streets are crawling with people, but he finds himself avoiding them more than anything.

he has to get back to you after all.

the only thought on his mind other than you is the ending of the stranger. the main character, while awaiting his beheading from his prison cell, conveys his final words to readers:

for the first time, in that night alive with signs and stars, i opened myself to the gentle indifference of the world. finding it so much like myself— so like a brother, really— i felt that i had been happy and that i was happy again. for everything to be consummated, for me to feel less alone, i had only to wish that there be a large crowd of spectators on the day of my execution and that they greet me with cries of hate.

in sukuna's first life, perhaps this line would have resonated with him. it was a life where he had resolved himself to the idea that nothing really mattered, because the alternative was too painful. it didn't matter that jujutsu society betrayed him. it didn't matter that he stole people's lives out from under them. it didn't matter that he was alone.

and while he would have never surrendered himself to execution, if that had been his fate, he would have preferred to go out surrounded by living reminders of all he had accomplished. surrounded by all the people he had ruined.

however, when he imagines such an occurrence happening in his present life, there is only one face throughout the entire crowd and it belongs to you.

the very thought makes him sick with grief.

looking up, he realizes that there are no stars in tokyo anymore, that there is no feeling of indifference when it comes to you, and that there is no happiness to be had when you are not by his side.

he knows he'll never shed another drop of innocent blood if it means you'll always have that look of adoration in your eyes when your gaze falls on him.

so his trip to the pharmacy is short and hurried.

opening your apartment door, he's careful to be quiet in case you're sleeping, but he finds you peering at him from the couch.

your hair is disheveled. there's a sheen of sweat across your forehead. your eyes are beyond tired. your shirt is wrinkled.

you're still the most pleasing thing he's ever laid eyes on.

"you're back," you rasp.

"i'm back," he affirms, slipping off his shoes.

you sit up and quickly regret it, your hand coming to rest against your stomach. "god, i feel like i'm gonna puke."

"charming."

you use all your strength to throw a pillow at him, which he easily catches before tossing something small in your direction— a ginger chew to help with the nausea.

you unwrap it and pop it in your mouth. "thanks."

he hums in response, settling down in the spot beside you. once he pulls the medicine from the bag, it's followed by two bottles. "got you these, too."

recognizing them as your favorite drink, your exhausted and delirious brain makes your eyes well up with grateful tears. "you're so sweet."

"yeah, whatever. don't get used to it."

"but you are. you're sweet and kind, except i'm the only one who knows it," you pause before continuing, your head falling onto his shoulder. "why is that?"

he contemplates denying that he possesses any such quality, but decides against it. "you're the only one who's ever cared to know."

he can feel the heat of your temple through his shirt, so he opens the box of fever reducers and pops out two tablets before handing them to you. "take these. you're burning up."

you do as he says without protest. standing up and stretching your arms above your head, sukuna's eyes wander to where your shirt rides up and reveals your stomach.

"c'mon, let's go to bed," you yawn.

he follows after you wordlessly, carelessly pulling off his shirt and climbing into bed beside you. curling up against his side, your head comes to rest on his chest and it's quiet for a few passing moments.

"you can't see the stars from tokyo anymore."

"what?" you ask sleepily.

"the stars. there's too much light to see them from here."

"oh, yeah. we can take a trip to the mountains soon. you can see them pretty well from there."

"i'll hold you to that."

and so with the promise of a beautiful night sky, with the company of someone who means the world to him, and with the feeling of your body pressed against his— sukuna feels that he had been happy and that he was happy again.

a/n 2: hey! so i'm sorry again for stopping updates without really saying anything. i think i just needed to step away from tumblr and writing for a while because i was getting a bit overwhelmed. i was also a little unsure about the direction of this chapter. i was struggling to incorporate the necklace part without it seeming cheesy or weird. that being said, thanks as always to everyone for your support of this series. it's really heartwarming and much appreciated. if you have any feedback, i'd love to hear! i'm not sure when the next update will be, but i'll do my best to keep you guys posted. all my love - m<3

taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @elusivemoon @annoyingstrawberryballoon @miabiar @hyeon-yi @iluv-ace @wineyoungie @vduxx @inflatabledinosaurs19 @harrystylesfan2686 @silentmajesticfox @am-the-renegade @certainduckanchor @moons-reblog @scarletrosesposts @th3-audac1ty @darlink-xoxo @ayeputita @nanmiik @namjooningera @hermxssaa @annieleonhardtsbitch @nugget-eater123 @integers @thefunbanshee @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress @luckypeacevoid @kiki17483 @ruttteerr @yourbelloved @heyohalie // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.

[urhoneycombwitch]

This may not work cos it would have to be like a modern!steddie, but the prompt

“It's only a proper date night if we're all there!”

feels sooooooo steddie to me. Like if eddie was away for a show or something and you and steve were going to dinner, he’d be all pouty until steve put his phone in his jacket pocket and stayed on FaceTime the whole date so he could be there.

- def not @rebelfell she would NEVER

foreword: CAUGHT YA rebelfell in the inbox u knoooooww it’s gonna b good!! okay since I’m keeping my Steddie x R world in the late 80’s/early 90’s I got creative with the pre-FaceTime ways of phone usage! exists in the same world as this Steddie mlist of mine but no need to read beforehand. xx

cw: R is referred to w/ she/her pronouns, R wears a dress + has breasts, Eddie being Pathetic™️, alcohol consumption, lack of restaurant manners

wc: 1.6k

___

It’s ten minutes past the time you and Steve were supposed to leave for dinner reservations but you’re both busy- you with a last-minute jewelry change, Steve with a call that just rang in to the landline.

He’s got the corded phone jammed between ear and shoulder, shaking out the opposing sleeve of his nice dinner jacket while speaking distractedly to the person on the line. “Yeah, I get it. Totally blows and I do feel for ya, I really do-”

There’s a sharp scoff of crackly incredulity from the other end. Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, okay, so maybe I don’t feel too bad since you did this to yourself.”

Steve listens to his boyfriend's stream of woe, using the brief interlude to multitask and pull on one of his black dress shoes before interrupting- “Sweetheart, you know that excuse won’t hold up in her court. Gonna have to take the loss and grovel later, that’s the best advice I got-”

“Smart boy,” you quip, floating into the trailer’s kitchen swathed in red velvet and slipping a second glittering crystal earring into your lobe. “I assume that’s our jilted lover you’re speaking with? Tell him the prison he’s in currently is self-made. And also that we need to leave.”

Steve closes his mouth from when it had dropped open upon seeing the amount of cleavage your dress allowed. 

He nods solemnly, fiddling with his tie, honeyed eyes warm and locked on your form even as he speaks into the receiver- “She said… somethin’ about a jail. And that we gotta go. Honestly, man, my mind is mostly blank right now, and if you could see her you’d understand why.” 

It’s your turn for a fond eye roll, crossing the laminate kitchen flooring for your pair of navy pumps next to Steve’s feet. 

Eddie’s voice is distinct enough through the speaker, though you can’t make out any words- Steve listens, holding out a hand for you to take and balance with as you step into your shoes until Eddie’s words end. 

“Hold on, I’ll ask her-” Steve covers the receiver, conspiratorial and faux-serious- “Our boyfriend is requesting I describe the general look and feel of your ass in this dress since he’s not here to see it himself.”

You smack Steve lightly on the arm and he chuckles into the phone, at least having the decency to look flustered when you crowd in to talk to Eddie, using deliberate and spine-chilling emphasis: “If you wanted to come to dinner with me and my spectacular ass, you should’ve requested the night off like I told you, months ago.” 

With this final word, you reach past Steve for your overcoat, body pressing into the length of his as he stammers out, “Y-yeah, that’s, uh- that’s all folks. Sorry pal. You heard the judge.”

Steve thumbs gently over the crook of your elbow before hanging up the phone, then helps you into your coat. “Honey, you don’t think you’re being… just a tad harsh on him? He’s even worse than I am, with dates, you really can’t blame the guy for-”

“Two months.” Your voice is unwavering, with a finality that makes Steve want to bend for you immediately, no matter the cost. “He had a whole eight weeks to put a request in for a single night away from the garage. With all the times we brought it up since then and now, I don’t feel bad for him and neither should you.”

Steve smooths a hand down the pretty line of the back of your neck, the soft slope disappearing into the collar of that red fabric. The only ‘bad’ he feels is his errant partner getting to miss out on seeing you. “Heard loud and clear, boss. Your chariot awaits.”

___

Luckily it’s no big issue that your Enzo’s reservation was originally intended for three; you and Steve are seated within minutes of your arrival at a cozy table near the far wall of the room. 

Of the three of you, Steve is the designated sommelier (i.e., has stolen enough during high school from his father’s private reserves to know generally what’s what), so you let him order a bottle for the table. 

The waiter pours a glass each, and you twirl the stem between your fingers, watching the plummy color slide down the insides of the glass walls.

“Got it to match,” Steve says, taking a sip, sliding his free hand palm-up on the table for you to take.

At the quirk of your brow, he explains further, pulling the back of your hand up to his lips for a quick kiss- “To match your dress. And my cheeks, too, apparently- christ, you’re hot.”

A genuine beam lights up your face; giving Steve’s hand a squeeze, you tilt your head- “Safe to say you’re a little obsessed?”

“A lottle.”

You both giggle at that, until you’re interrupted by a wait staff member who approaches and asks for you by name. 

“My apologies, miss- there’s a call waiting for you.” The waiter holds out the restaurant’s cordless phone for you to take, then promptly leaves. 

Your eyes cut daggers into the chunk of white plastic in your hand, and Steve clears his throat, shifting uneasily, muttering “Oh boy” before you bring the receiver up to your ear. 

“Hello.” 

“Princess!” Eddie sounds much too happy for your liking as you’d prefer silent and remorseful thinking to be taking place, instead. “Holy shit, can’t believe they put me through to you. You guys order entrees yet? Stevie talked you into some overpriced ditchwater alcohol, I’m sure.”

You almost can’t hear Eddie over the amount of irritation and upset rushing through your auditory system, heart thumping fast under the gold locket between your breasts, a present from both of your boyfriends. “Eddie Munson. I really, actually, don’t want to hear it.”

“Babe, c’mon-” Eddie sighs. In the background, there’s distant clanking and various car repair noises- you guess Eddie’s using his uncle’s office phone to call. “I’m sorry. Okay? I fucked the date up, that’s on me, but I’m on break right now and I just wanted to hear your voice-”

“Well, you’re hearing it now.” You’re not sure how much longer you can keep up the quickly-thinning veil of anger around your words, tears welling faster than you can keep them at bay, voice cracking three words in- “I just wanted- I wanted you here.”

Steve watches you quietly from across the table, picking up your hand again and frowning when he sees the almost-tears forming. You squeeze back, using his touch as a grounding lifeline when Eddie speaks again.

“Baby. I’m so sorry.” To his credit, Eddie does sound genuinely pained, which eases your anger to a low level, sadness taking the lead. 

Your eyes drop to the cloth napkin in swan formation on your plate, and you sniffle. “Well, sorry doesn’t make you magically appear.”

“Give me a week and I’ll build you a teleportation device. Seriously. Dunno if it’s possible but I shall make it so.” There’s a rhythmic tick tick on the other end, familiar to your music-loving boy- he must be tapping a pen against the desk. Your heart aches with love. 

“A week’s no good,” you reply, smiling soft at your other boy, holding his hand, still- “How ‘bout now?”

Eddie’s quiet on the other end until he says, cautiously- “I think a quantum crystal’s gonna be a little hard to find this time of night, but I’ll do my best-”

“No,” you laugh, and Steve grins upon hearing it- “I mean, I’ll put you on speaker for the rest of your break. But you better behave yourself.”

Eddie swears his fealty and sings your praises before you hit the speaker button, resting the phone upright on the table. The speaker feature is luckily on a low volume, and with the background music of the restaurant it’s unlikely anyone but you and Steve will be hearing it. 

“This is cool as hell,” Eddie says, voice tinny but certainly audible. “Stevieboy, set the scene for me. Exactly how plunging is the neckline you’re staring at?”

Steve leans in as if he’s about to give a genuine answer and you snatch the phone back, keeping it on speaker but growling into the receiver- “Munson. Thin. Ice.”

Playing nice, you set the chunk of plastic back down and ask, demure- “What did you call Steve’s wine choice, again?”

Eddie answers immediately, likely believing the speaker was turned off since it was your voice last- “What, ditchwater? Honey, we’re actively dating a guy who got half his tastebuds singed off in the underworld- wouldn’t trust his recommendations further than I can throw. And you know I’ve got the arm of a Little Leaguer.”

Steve’s mouth drops open again but this time it’s in righteous indignation and shock, a hank of soft hair falling over his brow when he leans in on his elbows to hiss- “Says the guy who drank half a bottle of melon liqueur and passed out in my bushes Sophomore year.”

Eddie chortles, delighted at having been caught- “Whatcha gonna do, Stevie? Spank me about it?”

Speakerphone was probably not a great call but you can’t find yourself caring too much, instead soaking in the bickering of your two most beloveds over a glass of wine that tastes of nothing but its color.

[steddiealltheway]

Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. 

Steve's knee bounces up and down as he stares at Eddie's near-lifeless form. He doesn't know how long he's been here, memories flashing through his head that he's tried to will away. But it's hard when he knows that this is all his fault. 

He's the reason Eddie's in this hospital bed. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve bounced his leg to the beat that pierced through the trailer. He smiled at Eddie who laughed manically over the crazy-sounding song. 

Eddie turned the knob down slightly and yelled over the music, "You don't have to pretend to like this!" 

Steve just shook his head. "Turn it up louder. I like the way it clears my thoughts." 

Eddie cranked the knob even higher and jumped on his mattress, jostling Steve who just laughed in response and stood up to join Eddie in some crazy dance. 

For once, Steve felt free. He wasn't supposed to be enjoying this. Hell, he wasn't even supposed to be here. But he came up with excuses as he wrapped his arms around Eddie's shoulders, slotting them closer together. 

That's why he was there, right? He needed to play the game Eddie didn't know about. 

-:-:-:- 

"Steve." 

He's shaken out of his thoughts by Robin's hand on his shoulder. He glances at her momentarily before looking back at Eddie. He can't let him out of his sight. 

"Steve, you need to eat. Even his uncle has taken a break from watching over him." 

Steve knows that Robin's confused, he can hear it in her voice. Maybe it's time he finally told her but first, "Please, let me wait until someone else can watch over him." 

"Dustin's in the hall. The hospital is still standing by their two visitors at a time policy, but he can watch over him while you eat." 

Steve's eyes don't leave Eddie's chest which slowly moves up and down. "Why can't we eat in the room?" 

Robin moves to kneel down in front of him. "Steve, you have to leave this room, okay? You need to shower and rest and eat and breathe fresh air. Please, we're all so worried about you. Dustin's already partially lost Eddie, we can't lose you, too." 

Steve pries his eyes away to look at Robin. He nods. He can feel a small ache in the pit of his stomach and a heavy pull on his eyelids. "I need to tell you something." 

Robin grabs his hands nodding. He's not sure when she started crying, but a slow tear rolls down her face following a trail of already smeared mascara. Steve quietly says, "This is all my fault. I'm the reason he's here." He feels his bottom lip quiver before he fully breaks, his loud sobs joining in with the steady beeping of the monitor. 

Robin stands and pulls him out of the chair, letting him bury his head into her shoulder. "It's not your fault the bats got him, Steve. It's not your fault." 

"Y-You don't understand," Steve sobs out as Robin pulls him in tighter. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve's lip quivered as he gripped onto Eddie's shoulders tightly. "I'm so sorry." 

Eddie shook his head as he stared at him blinking, still slightly panting. "I don't understand." 

Of course he didn't understand. He didn't know the terrible thing he was doing. Steve knew this was it. He needed to leave. 

Forever. 

-:-:-:- 

The hospital halls are bright, and the sun is even brighter. Everything is brighter than Steve remembers. It doesn't feel right. 

Robin manages to get him to his home, shoving him into the bathroom with a towel and a stack of clothes. After he gets out, she hands him fresh bandages and his prescribed ointment for the damn bat wounds. 

She manages to convince him to eat a few bites of a grilled cheese she made along with some tomato soup she found in his pantry. Steve eats on autopilot while Robin sits next to him on his couch, eating in silence. 

When Steve finishes half his sandwich, he puts his tray down on his coffee table and turns to Robin. "Do you promise not to hate me after I tell you this? 

Robin chews as a line forms between her eyebrows. She swallows but pauses for a few seconds. "I'm your best friend. I'm going to love you no matter what." 

"You don't understand," Steve says shaking his head, "There's a reason I never told you this before." 

"Told me what?" Robin prompts. 

Steve swallows. "At the beginning of junior year, Tommy and Carol had heard some rumor that senior Eddie Munson was gay. And for some reason, I couldn't let the idea go. So, I suggested that we should play a prank on him... And that I should..." He sighs and puts his head in his hands. 

Robin's hand trails over his back. 

Steve continues in a rush, "I told them I should pretend to be into him." 

Robin's hand freezes on his back, and Steve hears her slightly gasp. 

Steve looks up at her. "That isn't even the worst part." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve smirked when he saw Eddie in the back of his English class scribbling something in his notebook. He had crafted a plan at lunch the day before with Tommy and Carol. It would be easy. 

Steve made his way to the back of the classroom and sat next to Eddie, making a show of digging through his backpack and not being able to find something. He looked up at Eddie and smiled politely. "You wouldn't happen to have a pencil would you?" 

Eddie stared at him with a mixture of disbelief and shock at the concept of Steve Harrington acknowledging him. He glanced down at his notebook and stared at it as if he was apologizing to it. Then, Eddie handed him the pencil out of his hand. 

Steve winked as he said, "Thanks." 

The other boy didn't say anything, he just nodded. 

Steve noticed that he didn't reach for his bag for another pencil as more people filtered into the room. Steve leaned across the way and quietly asked, "Don't you have another one?" 

Eddie shook his head. "I don't really take notes. Just sketch or plan stuff." 

"He speaks," Steve said with a big smile. "What are those sketches?" 

Eddie shifted in his seat and looked Steve up and down before turning his sketches his way. "Creatures and shit from Dungeons and Dragons." 

Honestly, they looked really cool. Steve didn't know that people could actually draw like that. His friends were always more athletic than artistic. "That's really cool," Steve said genuinely. 

"Thanks," Eddie breathed out, turning the book back toward himself as if he were trying to hide it. 

Steve stared at him for a few seconds before he handed his pencil back. 

"Are you sure you don't need it?" Eddie asked, hesitating to take it back. 

Steve nodded, digging into the pouch where he kept several pencils. "I'm sure," he said with another big smile before leaning across the aisle again. "You should show me more of your drawings sometime. And hey, it's Eddie, right?" 

Eddie's eyebrows furrowed as he nodded. "Yeah." 

Steve stuck out his hand and introduced himself, "Steve." 

"I know," Eddie replied but he shook his hand nonetheless. 

Steve ignored the way the touch made him feel like he suddenly couldn't breathe. Instead, he focused on the way he had already made progress in his game. 

-:-:-:- 

"Okay, so you flirted with him a little and led him on a bit." 

"No," Steve insists, "It was more than just the classroom interactions. I went full-on crazy. I would watch him at lunch and make sure he knew that I was watching. I even changed my route to class to make sure I would bump into him in the hallway. Hell, I went as far as to try to change my locker so it was closer to his." In hindsight, he should've known that was going too far. But in the moment, it felt like he needed to get as close as possible to Eddie Munson. 

Robin shifts to tuck her knees to her chest. She looks at him carefully as she asks, "Did you... enjoy seeing him?" 

Steve shrugs, not sure what she's getting at. 

Robin only frowns slightly before leaning in closer and lowering her voice. "I mean, did you have a crush on him." 

"No," Steve says immediately, feeling the same guard come up as it always does when he asks himself the question. Or when someone else has asked him that question... 

-:-:-:- 

"I swear you like the queer or something," Tommy sneered at the lunch table as Carol laughed loudly. 

Steve pulled his eyes away from Eddie and firmly stated, "It's not like that." 

"Really? Because you're looking at him like you want to sample whatever the freak will give you." 

Steve's hands flexed under the table. He didn't know why he was so angry at the accusation. "It's not like that," Steve repeated lowly.  

"Why are you getting so defensive?" Carol asked with a twisted grin. 

He knew they were trying to get under his skin about it, and as much as he didn't want to let them know they got to him, he couldn't stand what they were implying. "Fuck you," he said and stormed out of the cafeteria. He could hear Tommy’s and Carol's grating laughter as he left, furthering his damn anger.  

He stormed into the bathroom and checked that all the stalls were clear before he sat on the nasty floor and put his head in his hands. 

He didn't know why the question got to him so much because it really wasn’t like that. He didn't like Munson. The whole point of getting closer to him was to trick Munson into liking him. 

He started to think that maybe that wasn't so funny anymore. 

The door to the bathroom opened and shut quickly, a lock twisted and closed Steve in with whoever came in. 

He slowly looked up, embarrassed by being caught in this state, but he became even more so when he saw it was Eddie who had followed him. 

"You okay?" Eddie's asked gently, keeping his distance. 

Steve sighed and leaned his head back against the wall, staring at the ceiling. "My friends are assholes." 

Eddie snorted in response which caught Steve off-guard. "Sorry," Eddie said with a smile, "It's just that everyone knows that. Or maybe I just especially know that." 

"Then why are you here?" Steve asked, but the question sounded a little too harsh even to him. 

Eddie shrugged then walked over to Steve and slid down the bathroom wall to join him on the floor. "You've been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few weeks. I couldn't be sure that you weren't in a hostage situation," he joked.  

Steve was surprised to find that the joke put him at ease and even made him smile. He smiled further when he saw the way Eddie relished the fact that he cheered him up. 

"Hey," Eddie said as he scooted closer to him. "I've got this secret lunch spot where I usually deal, but it's also great if you need a space away from people. I can show it to you tomorrow." 

Steve's heart thudded a little harder in his chest at the suggestion, filled with nerves and excitement at the thought of spending actual alone time with Eddie. "I'd really like that." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve sighs and looks at Robin who he knows would love and support him no matter what feelings he confesses. He breathes out, "Maybe I did like him like that." 

Robin gives him a sad smile and rests her hand on his.  

"He and I would eat lunch together every Tuesday and Thursday in this little spot in the woods that had a picnic bench and everything. And I started looking forward to those days and when I would pass him in the hall and our class together. God, I just wanted to be around him all the time. He was like my best friend at the time."  

"So, what happened?" 

Steve pinches his lips together and shakes his head. "I kept leading him on. I would report things to Tommy and Carol and they would laugh at him and call him so many damn names. God, then it spread to the whole basketball team because Tommy can't shut his damn mouth. And they'd do shit like high-five me in the hall. They told me I was doing God's work by making sure Eddie's attention was only on me." 

"God, they're such assholes." 

Steve nods in agreement and adds, "So am I." 

"You've changed, Steve." 

Steve shakes his head. "I don't know, Robin." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve felt high out of his mind lying in Eddie's bed with their fingers intertwined. Only when he was high, he felt like he could touch him like this. He didn't want it to go any further. More like, he was scared of it going any further because he wouldn't know what that meant. 

Eddie's head turned to him - his lips only a short distance away from Steve's. He was starting to notice these things more and more around the boy. 

"You're different," Eddie commented. 

Steve laughed and rolled on his side. "How?" 

"Different from anyone I've ever met. Nothing like your asshole friends." 

Steve's smile fell from his face at the comment. He was exactly like them; Eddie just didn't know it. 

"Why me?" Eddie asked. 

Steve glanced up at him. "What do you mean?" 

Eddie rolled on his side, shifting even closer to Steve. "Why did you choose to be nice to me? It felt so damn random especially after you practically never looked at me before." 

Steve's mouth opened and closed, unsure how to answer. Instead, he opted out and replied, "I don't know." 

"Well, I'm glad you noticed me. I don't know what I would do without you at this point." 

"Me neither," Steve replied honestly. 

-:-:-:- 

"I never told him," Steve says, feeling his bottom lip quiver. "God, I wanted to tell him the truth, but I couldn't." 

Robin nods. “I don’t blame you, that’s a hard thing to explain to someone.” When Steve doesn’t reply, she presses on, "So, what else happened?" 

Steve runs both hands over his face and leans back against the couch, unable to look at Robin anymore. "It was a few weeks before Halloween, so I had been leading him on for two months at that point. We were hanging out almost every day. I almost spent the night sometimes because I was over so late just talking to him. But I never let myself. I knew if I stayed once, I would stay every night if I could. " 

"It sounds like you were just being friendly to him. I don't know how he could have misinterpreted it," Robin reasons. 

Steve shakes his head. "I wasn't just friendly. I would blatantly flirt sometimes. Shit, I used to leave notes in his locker sometimes and whenever we were alone, I would usually initiate some contact like holding his hand. But when it was late, and I could excuse the touchiness as a form of sleep deprivation, I would lay in bed with him, and we would just stare at each other. Sometimes, I let my hands wander in his hair, over his face, down his arms basically anywhere he'd let me." 

Robin lets a deep breath out and pauses before asking, "Did you ever do more than that?" 

Steve shakes his head but pinches his nose sharply. He has to own up to it. "Fuck," he sighs burying his head in his hands. "Yes, we did more than that but only one time." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't remember why he was laughing; Eddie just kind of pulled it out of him at times. Besides, it was also late, and they both tended to get a bit giggly during the early AMs. 

Eddie stopped laughing suddenly, so Steve turned to him and asked, "What?" 

Eddie just shook his head in response and turned to stare at the ceiling looking suddenly stoic. 

Steve rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his arm to stare down at Eddie. "Come on, tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours." 

Eddie looked him directly in the eye and said, "That." 

Steve shook his head and tried not to stare at Eddie's lips. 

"You," Eddie tried again. "Do you mean what you say?" 

Steve's heart thudded in his chest. "I don't know what you mean," he lied. 

Eddie's hand shook as it made its way up to cup his cheek. "Yes, you do. Just tell me if I'm reading this wrong." 

He was reading it absolutely wrong, but fuck, he was reading him absolutely right. So, Steve didn't think. He just leaned down and gently kissed Eddie before he pulled back with a shaky breath to say, "You're not reading this wrong." 

Eddie pulled him in again, kissing him. Steve groaned into the kiss, feeling lightning practically spread through his body at the sensation. God, it felt so damn right. 

Steve quickly moved until his body was on top of Eddie's pressing into him at all the right places as they both deepened the kiss. Steve knew he wasn't supposed to be enjoying it, but he pushed the thought and guilt away.  

-:-:-:- 

Steve wipes the tear away from his cheek and takes a deep breath. "I wasn't thinking. And I made it so much worse." 

"Shit," Robin whispers, hugging her knees tightly. 

"After, I freaked the fuck out. I had this whole breakdown, and Eddie was trying so hard to understand. He thought I was just having this sexuality crisis, which I admittedly was, but I was mainly concerned about if Eddie ever found out if it was all a damn joke." 

"It wasn't a joke to either of you, Steve. You would've never gone that far if it was," Robin insists, hand landing gently on Steve's shoulder. 

Steve flinches away from her. "But it was all rooted in a joke." 

"Fuck," Robin says with wide eyes, "Steve, please tell me you didn't tell Tommy or anyone." 

In his heart, he knows that's the only good decision he made. "I didn't." 

Robin breathes a sigh of relief. "Thank god." 

"But what I did was maybe worse in hindsight." 

"How?" Robin asks, sounding horrified. 

-:-:-:- 

Steve walked through the halls on autopilot. He couldn't get any sleep the night before. It felt damn near impossible after his night with Eddie. 

"Steve buddy!" Tommy said loudly, clapping a rough hand on his back. "How's the freak treating you?" 

Steve shook his head and said, "It's over." 

Tommy walked in front of him and stopped him. "Woah there. You look like you've seen a damn ghost or something. What did the freak do to you? Did he try to kiss you or some shit?" Tommy asked with a sick smile on his face. 

"No," Steve stated and looked around the halls before he leaned in and said, "But I found out he's a Satanist. Like he does full-on rituals and shit." 

"No fucking way!" Tommy yelled excitedly, ready to spread the rumor like wildfire.  

"Yeah," Steve said. "I don't think he's queer though." 

"I'm surprised," Tommy laughed. "He looks at you like you're his bitch sometimes."  

"Just into Satanic shit," Steve insisted. 

Tommy got a wild look in his eye. "Maybe we should include that in the basketball hazing this year. First student to witness one of his rituals gets a damn prize." 

"Sure," Steve shrugged it off. "Bet it would scare that new guy Jason shitless." 

-:-:-:- 

"Oh fuck," Robin says, putting her hands over her mouth in shock. 

"I practically started the whole fucking manhunt with that damn rumor. I just thought it wouldn't be as bad as people finding out he was gay. And I somehow thought it would convince people that nothing happened between me and him," Steve confesses. 

"Okay," Robin says, staring off into space before shifting on the couch toward Steve. "Okay, you didn't start the manhunt. And Tommy's the one who spread the rumor, and Jason is the one who took it too far." 

"But Eddie would've graduated senior year if it wasn't for me." 

Robin's brows furrow as she shakes her head. "Wait what? How's that related?" 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. "I ended things the day the rumor spread. But I was such a fucking asshole about it, Robin. God, you're going to hate me." 

"Why would I hate you?" 

"Because it was a Tuesday. And instead of joining Eddie outside, I stayed with Tommy and Carol, looking around to find some girl to use to get over Eddie. Then, I spotted a girl with curly hair and big eyes that reminded me of him..." 

"Nancy," Robin fills in for him. 

Steve nods. "She was my fucking rebound." 

-:-:-:- 

Steve didn't eat lunch that day. He wasn't hungry. He felt fucking sick to his stomach as he looked around the cafeteria, wondering if Eddie would walk in at any moment looking for him. 

His eyes caught on curly hair, but realized it was too light to belong to Eddie. He leaned to the side and caught eyes with Nancy Wheeler. He shot her a wink before going back to pushing his food around his tray. It didn't make him feel better. 

In his last class with Eddie, he sat at the very front of the room, hating the view from there and the way people kept staring at his obvious seat change. He ducked his head when Eddie walked in late and took his seat in the back. 

He didn't take a single note that day. He could feel Eddie's eyes practically burn holes in the back of his head. 

The bell was the only thing that gave Steve relief that day, and he basically sprinted his way out of the building to his car. But he cursed as he dug around his backpack unable to find his damn keys. 

"Dropped these," Eddie's voice said behind him. 

Steve turned to him slowly and didn't make eye contact as he reached for the keys. 

Eddie snatched them back. "Why are you being weird? Is this because of what happened last night?" 

"Nothing happened last night," Steve insisted, lowering his voice so no one could hear him. 

Eddie's pained expression broke Steve's heart immediately. "Nothing?" 

"Nothing," Steve repeated. "And nothing will ever happen again, got it?" 

"Steve-" 

"I'm doing this for you," Steve lied. 

Eddie saw right through him as he always did. "No, you're fucking not." 

"Eddie-" 

"Is this freak bothering you, Steve?" Tommy said, suddenly rushing to his side. 

"No, I was just leaving," Eddie said, turning to stalk away. 

Tommy snorted at the sight and leaned into Steve's side to ask, "You're sure he's not gay?" 

"Shut up, Tommy," Steve said, pinching his nose as he got into his car. 

-:-:-:- 

"He started skipping classes after that. Shit, I practically never saw him in our English class. And he started taking a different route in the halls. God, I missed him so fucking bad." Steve looks down at his hands, flexing in anger at his past mistakes. "He skipped so often that they made him repeat senior year. The next year, we saw each other once when I was with Nancy, and after that it was like I never saw him again. Once again, he skipped and failed. If he would've graduated when he was supposed to, he wouldn't be in this damn mess. Fuck, he would still be alive." 

"He's still alive, Steve." 

Steve snaps, "Is he really? The doctor told us that he may never wake up, Robin. What if he never wakes up? What if I can never tell him this?" A small part of Steve wonders what would happen if he did wake up. Would he actually tell him? 

Steve shakes his head. He doesn't know, but he knows he can't lose him again. It hurt so damn much the first time; he couldn't do it again. "You know how I always say I have no idea what I want?" 

Robin nods. 

"I've lied. I know exactly what I want, and he's laying in that damn hospital bed. I thought maybe I could find someone like him, but I can't Robin. No matter how many dates I go on, no one is like Eddie." 

Robin moves closer to him and wraps her arms around him. 

Steve feels more tears trail down his face as he leans into Robin. "You know, in the upside down, he gave me this bullshit speech about how I've changed, and I'm actually a good dude. Then, he told me something about how I should get Nancy back and it was like a damn dagger in my heart. He told me that she dove right into that water and he wouldn't have done the same in normal circumstances. As if he was trying to tell me that I was right to choose Nancy over him. It's such bullshit." 

Robin doesn't say anything, just pulls him in tighter. 

"He has to wake up, Robin. He has to," Steve wipes his eyes and stands up. "But we have to get back to that hospital, okay? I'll tell you eventually why I can't leave his side, but I just can't today." 

Robin nods and stands up. "Let's go then." 

-:-:-:- 

"If you died today, would you have regrets?" 

Steve laughed. "That's such a random question." 

Eddie smiled up at him. "Come on, answer the question." 

Steve knew that he would have too many regrets to ever be able to list. But he asked, "Would I die right here, right now?" 

Eddie shrugged. "Sure." 

"If I died with you at my side, then I think I would have no regrets. What about you?" 

Eddie smiled up at him sincerely, considering the question for a few moments. "As long as you were by my side, I would be okay." 

[taegularities]

ruin you: reflections | kth

Summary: Sometimes, you really refuse to truly leave, don't you?

⋙ pairing: Taehyung x female reader ⋙ rating: 18+ ⋙ genre: exes? au; angst, bit of fluff ⋙ warnings: rain and sadness, nostalgia, a phone call, the L-word, memories, sleeping jungkook cameo lol, this is original ry!oc and a!oc isn't in the picture yet – so basically a prequel to ruined and sequel to the ry finale hehe ⋙ word count: 4.3k ⋙ a/n: i know it's been years and we're possibly over this series now bc so much happened on taegularities dot com after it finished, buuuut.. i was listening to only love by pvris the other day and i ALWAYS think of ry!tae when the song comes on lmao. anyway, enjoy this little thing that i totally did not ever expect to drop in 2k25 :') come talk to me about it <3

⁂ part of the ruin you series 

⁂ playlist 🎶

MASTERLIST | WIPS

This is barely what a promising spring Thursday is supposed to be.

The relentless winter lasted for ages already, and now it’s unseasonably cold, too. Not that Taehyung minds a harmless sprinkle, drizzling onto him as though to kiss his skin. But the coat is a little too thin and his umbrella nowhere near.

He could rush home and dive into some woollen blanket. Could fetch himself his favourite tea, sweetened with some honey, waiting for the last day of the week to break in. But the weekend is around the corner anyway, and he doesn’t leave on them much at all these days.

After work, at least, just like right now, he has an excuse to hide from his apartment for a while. It’s easier to walk around when already active; much more facile to carry himself back to this tiny park than when he’s at home, cosy and alone, tired and bitter.

Not everything is bad, though: Jungkook’s attitude towards Taehyung has long returned to what it used to be; albeit somehow, Taehyung can’t shake the feeling that in some sense, unspoken tension still lingers that neither of them will ever full be able to erase.

Taehyung smirks. Of course not.

You were in the absolute middle with them at far ends of the scale. Only, in truth, it wasn’t the perfect middle at all — you were leaning towards one decision so clearly. Turned left and right, but then chose the obvious direction.

For your sake, you settled on happiness, pure, unfiltered love that you knew and still know to be true. Taehyung wanted this for you.

But it’s ironic how you’re seemingly so whole, but left him stranded here in little shards that he glued together as if reuniting estranged puzzle pieces. And the ones he still hasn’t found, you took with you.

He wonders.

What do you do with them? Store them in your memory, reliving moments, or are they hidden somewhere in the back of your thoughts, not enjoying the relevance that you still so obviously do in his head?

Taehyung doesn’t move just yet. It’ll get colder once it’s dark, and the early April spring weather will do whatever it wants to. It won’t be gentle to him today, he reckons.

But he still stays seated here, just to take in the world, breathe in the breeze. His apartment is warm but stuffy. A blissful sanctuary that’s surrounded by invisible bars sometimes. He doesn’t know how to feel about this.

It’s hard to figure out emotions anyway.

He’s over a ton, but not quite all of it. A number of all that occurred still wreaks havoc in his brain, still a burning chaos and source of damned ruination. He doesn’t understand how to feel about most of his days.

And the wind, the dense grey clouds. The rain.

Or the feeling of the drops landing on his hand, running down his thumb when he turns his palm to the sky and it catches the rain. With each second, the pace picks up a bit more, and more and more raindrops touch his skin.

His long digits curl in; strands of his hair stick to his forehead and water drips off his nose and chin. Eyes close. He knew it’d be pouring, but he forgot how intense the universe can actually get. This is quite dramatic.

It’s been a while since it rained like this, too. It did a lot in his apartment, too.

He breathes in, lifting his head for a second, up to the sky and to the falling shower. The colours are far from vibrant and optimistic, but they don’t feel as hopeless as they could be. Maybe nature doesn’t mean to feel sad to others.

Or maybe because there are worse places to be. Right? Wait, why?

Because they hurt less? No, probably not. The pain sits in the middle of his chest, not just at a particular location. Or maybe…

Maybe this is a moment that he can somewhat learn to cherish because of the fingers slowly opening his own. Suddenly but carefully touching his palm. That’s strange, isn’t it?

Would it be weirder if it was a stranger? Or is it crazier that it’s somebody entirely else when he lifts his eyelids again, staring down to his hand and to what grazes him. To who grazes him.

He could swear you weren’t here before. Your smiling, soaking wet self, head tilting when he comes to look at you. The silver shines into his eyes, and he remembers. Remembers the earrings you’d always wear, sporting them when the three of you found a pleasant café or spent your evening bickering over ludo.

Taehyung looks at you. Looks at you carefully, just to ensure it’s you. You’re timid at first; this is your expression, alright. So distinctively you. How your eyes drift down when he gulps; and how you blink, your smile a tiny bit unsure.

Taehyung remains as mute as he hates to be, and eventually, you start with, “Hi.”

It takes another second of embarrassing shock. Then, “Hey… hey.”

He uprights himself, shifting on his spot, his coat stuck beneath him. Staring at the hand, he never closes his fingers around your warm skin; no matter how tempting, it’d be wrong, wouldn’t it?

So what are you doing? Why are you doing it; where did you appear from? It has been a while since he basked in your presence at all… so what’s going on?

“I, uh… I was,” you start, dampening your already glistening lips; he misses them like a bitch, “out and saw you here.” You look around; the area is blurred to Taehyung. “What are you doing?”

“…What are you doing?” Taehyung doesn’t mean to blurt it out like this, but his tongue doesn’t practice restraint at all. He snaps back into the moment, feet firm on the ground. Clearing his throat, he tells you, “It’s pouring.”

“So it is. But I’m not made of sugar.”

“You will get a cold.”

You roll your eyes. The audacity; the corner of his lips twitches up. “You’re not immune to these things either, you know, Tae? Being sick will hurt you, too.”

Now he surrenders; snickers a bit. Slick trait of yours, being this charming without realising it. Guess that has always made you desirable to others; you make people feel comfortable.

And it’s torture, how you’re still you. When he knew you better, you’d blabber such things, too. How sickness aches, how the cold leads to heat. You’d be surprised if you knew just how sick he’s been, and just how much the million passed seconds hurt.

God, if the flicker of guilt didn’t spark in him, he’d probably tread through this moment easier, too, relish the rush of hormones speeding through him. This is odd. Not what he expected from your first conversation after so long.

Breathing out an unsuspicious sigh, he finally pulls his hand back a little, just for the sake of appearing natural, and then asks, “How have you been?”

You give yourself a moment to ponder. A strange expression, as if you’re somewhat bewildered. As if your body isn’t yours and as if you’ve beamed in from another reality, differing from whatever you’re experiencing now.

Somehow, you look just slightly like a stranger now, and skilled, you dodge the question like one, too, when you blurt without a notice, “If… I told you that I was sorry… and that I wanted this to be forever—”

What?

He’s gone miles with you; way too far to ever justify. You were the one to pull away. So why is it that you’re this brave now? As if having come to a realisation that you’re attempting to share; that he is gradually trying to duck from.

“Don’t.”

The word leaves him in a whisper, cost him the day’s leftover energy. But you shake your head, gripping his hand again, and insist, “Please let me say it.”

He thinks you’re about to break, water collecting; and a moment later, strangely, your eyebrows kiss. Match his assumption. You utter, just quietly, “I wanted it to be forever… It’s dumb to say that because I can’t have two of these.” You wait again. Bring up a hand, cup his cheek until he meets your damp eyes. “And I’m sorry.”

Sorry… you’re sorry. He is, too. He doesn’t know what for. Or maybe he does — but he has apologised. He has made peace with his mistakes, even if not with the goddamn distance.

So this is… excruciating.

And for a moment, the emotions heighten, as if he’s hyper aware of what you’re feeling. A weird sadness floods him, mixed with his own. He’s on the opposite side of this misery, trapped in something entirely different than you.

But.

He still sees your heart so clearly, as if he was holding it, reading inscriptions. Scars. And he can almost touch, almost imagine the affection you house for him so vividly. What did you? Objectify your feelings and hand them to him?

Maybe something occurred; something celestial, a change in the world. Because he could swear he can read your mind — because you seem to cooperate with each of his thoughts. With how you touch his chin next, eyes glassy. Or how you inhale, as if tormented by something.

He can foresee it all before you do it. Maybe he’s come to know you this well. But the realisation that comes to him next is far more daunting.

Because, in these seconds of confusion, the surroundings changed and the moments changed, far too long but too short, too. Time feels nonlinear and nonexistent. How does he know what’s going to happen?

It’s easy to figure out, isn’t it? He should know. But how could he… even as a human being, a brain has the ability to trick him.

He knows because he’s telling his mind himself, isn’t he? Bending reality, deep in his unconsciousness. He isn’t here, and you aren’t here, and in truth, you’re just a figment of his imagination, a piece of what he conjures.

Just as you have been for the past months.

As the moment lingers and stretches, and then vanishes, Taehyung finds himself slowly pulling out of this fake memory. Wakes in the bed he’s probably already slept a dent into. And as clarity arrives, he realises that it isn’t Thursday, but Friday fading into Saturday morning.

He recalls thinking of little somethings before going to bed. How Thursdays were your favourite day of the week because they nearly introduced the weekend, and that Friday itself was never actually as relaxing as one might think due to all the traffic and the weekend chaos.

It was random yapping and it barely made any sense to Taehyung. But you had seemed to have it thought through, and you spoke about it confidently. Even when sometimes, you struggled to make your thoughts transparent effectively; but that was rare, really.

If anything, he was the one worse at this. You, as the experienced teacher in your trio, knew to win their hearts by a couple of thought out words only.

Honestly, today he thinks you liked Thursdays just because they were the shortest, most effortless days at school.

Taehyung sits up, half a smile at his face as he imagines your excitement about leaving the institution. You’d use many Thursday afternoons to indulge in hobbies or to ask Taehyung to join you for a round of chess because you both liked the game.

He was never competitive, but you were. But you both knew to entertain each other. Sometimes, you did feel like a mirror to him, as if he was staring at his reflection.

Both of you knew what to say; when to say it.

Taehyung ruffles through his messy hair. It’s gotten longer; changed along with the world. But why is this feeling in his stomach still the same? Why is he still trying to relive what was? He should probably set his priorities straight; his brain is a mischievous traitor.

As he clicks his tongue, light breaks through the dark night. The phone on his nightstand beams when a random notification chimes. He grabs it, sighs at the G-Mail thing leading to some Reddit post. Then, checks the time.

Or, passes some time. He doesn’t know yet; he won’t fall asleep right away. Might scroll for a bit.

Cruel, how he’s here thinking of you, all weird and still nostalgic, and you’re probably sound asleep. Dreaming about anything but him. 

At least that’s what he’d suppose now. You don’t ever message him, never call. He’s aware that you still have his number, and that he hasn’t deleted yours, either. Both of you still follow each other on social media, too.

Just today, you posted a picture of a cat, nestled in some woman’s arms as your hand petted it. The stranger was mentioned in a corner; probably a coworker. Taehyung didn’t check. He feels creepy enough as it is.

But you still see his rare stories as well; when he decides to upload an orange sunset or reposts his friends’ stuff. These days barely ever occur anymore, but whenever they do, you see them.

Yet, no comment. No reaction. Just looking quietly, just like he does.

He wonders. If it was him who called or said hi, would you respond? You have turned into a fleeting and transient ghost of the past — but would you become a temporary presence if he reached out?

If he… if he scrolled down to your name and pressed the call button right now, would you…

No.

If he gave in now, you’d probably not even notice, and he’d interpret it as you ignoring him. And he’d overthink. It’d backfire. And…

But…

Fuck.

Damn the human mind. Taehyung questions — is it a common problem? A painfully humane one, wanting ideas to be realised once they emerge? Stupid compulsive urge. Why? So he can sleep?

No, probably not. It’s because Taehyung knows he has nothing to lose. Nothing to regret. What more could still happen?

You aren’t his and you never will be.

So his thumb slides across the bright screen, scouring his contacts until he finds you there, collecting dust but never forgotten.

Don’t do it.

The reasonable voice of sanity isn’t wrong, of course, but when has he ever been sane anyway? Didn’t the two of you meet because he was as unhinged as could be? In hindsight, he wishes he could have made a different first impression, and not what he did.

What did you see in him at that moment? When you stepped in, into a room that barely seemed normal. What kind of person was he to you?

Was, is, could and would and should have,

If and when and might.

Nothing to lose now.

Fuck it.

He pushes his thumb onto your name and then the call symbol, phone pressing to his ear with shut eyes and teeth worrying his full lower lip. He’s an idiot, he knows. Still hung up on something like this, as if he never learned at all.

You were a lesson enough, so why is he…

Shit…

The call is going through. He might be waking you. Or you might not notice. And perhaps Jungkoo—

Shit, shit. Jungkook.

Why didn’t he think of the main damn reason you left at all? If this doesn’t disturb your nightly peace, Jungkook might register it. Is Taehyung screwing up again?

He brings his phone to his lap, ogling at the screen, thumb already floating over the button to hang up again. Because he can’t do this to you and himself and his best friend, so he should—

“Hey?”

The ringing stops; your voice nearly gives him a heart attack. A shiver inundates his entire body, the hammering beneath his chest aggressive and loud. And the dense fog… it’s shrouding his mind.

He listens in closely, wondering whether he hallucinated your voice, whether it was as unreal as his dream. But a moment later, he hears you again, his name penetrating the silence like a knife, “Tae?”

You sound groggy. He’s heard this very tone so many times before. He musters up whatever courage’s left in him and responds, “Hi.”

“…Is something wrong?” you immediately ask. “Are you okay?”

Of course that’d be your initial reaction. The first conversation after all this time, in the dead of the night. Why would he call if not for a favour or when in absolute need? But it’s neither, is it? This is something entirely else and there is no proper word for it.

Well, stupidity, perhaps.

“No,” he answers, “I just—” His mind is befuddled, no clear thought. He isn’t quite sure what he wants to say; maybe he should’ve prepared a script, something with reason and justification. Instead, he babbles, “I never got to tell you.”

Silence again.

He hears some shifting on the other end and a slight groan, still yours and not Jungkook’s. There are quiet steps, as if you’re distancing yourself from your sleeping boyfriend, to be able to listen to Taehyung’s thoughts properly.

Knowing something is up. Taehyung knows anyone would, but he can’t help but think of the mirror again.

A door opens, and then, a door closes. You whisper, “Wait,” before you let out a breath, probably, surely plumping onto the couch he still knows. “Taehyung…”

“Yes.”

“What’s wrong?”

“…Where’s Jungkook.”

You clear your throat; the sofa shifts, and you sound more relaxed, as if you leaned back. You tell him, “In the bedroom. I stepped out for a sec.” Pause; and then again, “What’s wrong?”

“I was thinking of you and,” he lowers his head, the stillness between you a burning pain, “and I wanted to say hi.”

You laugh a little, followed by a hearty yawn. But you’re not bored, just exhausted. Still here, still jesting when you ask, “At,” another break in speech, “half past three, huh?”

“Hey, I don’t choose what my brain chooses to dream of.”

You stop laughing. The recurring silence fills your conversation; both of you seem to be arranging your thoughts, necessarily so after this long. Then, you state rather than ask, “You dreamed of me.”

“Yeah…”

“Was it…” you start, but then exhale, trying again, “What was it? A memory?”

“No… not really.”

“Something familiar?” He hears you shifting, your voice clearer. Sweet and tender. “I reckoned that’s what you… never got to tell me?”

“No… no, it was nothing,” Taehyung lies. “There was just rain. Us talking.” And then, some truth, “We apologised.”

You wait, voicing a sound of interruption and uncertainty, before you inquire, “Why would you apologise?”

“Because… it’s not like the time we had was so stress-free.” Taehyung stares up to the ceiling, leaning forward with a hand rubbing his forehead. “Maybe that’s what I needed to tell you. Apologise for what I did to you.”

“You… you didn’t do anything to me. I had fun, Tae,” you assure, your voice defeated. He can imagine what you look like; fallen face, droopy eyes, beautiful lips suggesting grief. “I don’t blame you for anything, you know? Just… not everything lasts. And it’s not your fault.”

“Maybe not everything is supposed to last.”

You don’t say anything, and he takes a deep breath. He knows you’d agree if you weren’t so cautious still, cherry picking your responses. And as you think it through, he imagines you looking out of the window; so he does, too.

His eyelids are heavy with sleep, and he’s so incredibly sorry that he’s robbing you of the sleep you love so much as well. But it’s not just him drowning in this moment, he thinks. Because you keep the words flowing, eventually ask, “How have you been?”

“I… I’m fine.” Closest to what’s true. At least in the grand picture, physically and all. He’s not dying, doesn’t feel like he is anymore. “Living.”

“Yeah?”

“It’s been alright,” he fiddles with his blanket, a stray thread, plays with his thoughts. “And you?”

“I’m good, too.”

“Good. I’d be mad if you weren’t,” he adds quietly, painfully uncontrolled, “I didn’t let you go for nothing.”

He squints his eyes shut, trapping his lip between his teeth. Maybe he should be more careful. He resists the urge to groan over his idiocy when you respond, “Yeah…”

But it doesn’t end here, does it? Taehyung might already be a fool for saying all these words in this constellation at all; but the dumb courage won’t falter yet. He reminds himself… nothing to regret anymore…

“Can I ask you something?” he lets out. “I might not want to hear the answer, but I think I will hate not doing it, too.”

You sound more unsure by the minute. Perhaps he’s putting you in a situation you’re not too fond of — but you’re an honest soul. If you wanted to leave, he knows you would. Instead, you say, “…Yeah.”

Now or never. One, two, three. Three, two, one.

Taehyung gulps and then—

“Did you ever love me?”

Your answer is, as expected, not immediate. In fact, you don’t say much at all, leaving the conversation wordless for a moment. It takes patience and sucking in some more oxygen until you finally mutter—

“Maybe.”

The sting is sharp and fiery, and he curls the hand on his forehead into a fist. It remains there, eyes still closed, as if to press against the hot head and calm the overwhelmed brain behind it. It’s so fiercely hurting over what could have been.

And the guilt pricking steps in immediately, too, thinking of the man in the other room at your place; how Taehyung never wishes him ill and how he is still selfish enough right now to wish you had ended up being his.

“Maybe, yeah?” he then asks.

“I wasn’t sure back then,” you tell him, still nearly whispering. “A ton was going on and now…”

“You’ve forgotten what it felt like.”

“No. I don’t think that’s it. And I don’t think I’ll ever forget you.” Taehyung sighs in defeat, hardening his jaw. Fuck. “You don’t seem to understand what you meant to me. But. I’m not at that spot anymore, so I can’t tell you without feeling like I’m… possibly distorting what it truly was.”

“Whatever it was,” Taehyung says, “he was bigger anyway. And I understand, you know? I do.”

“I… If he wasn’t,” you start, slowly, as if you’re not actually keen on saying what you have to say. But as Taehyung already deducted once more — honest soul. “I would’ve chosen differently.”

Yet another pause. Taehyung only nods, though you can’t see any of his movements, any of his expressions. You continue, “Maybe I’ll always feel some of what I used to for you, but— leaving him will never feel right. Jungkook is what I’ve always known.”

“I know,” Taehyung immediately chimes in; how much more can he hear? He asked for it, so when will he learn? “I know he is. It shouldn’t be any other way.”

And he means it. Wishing otherwise doesn’t erase his respect for him, does it? You mumble another, “Yeah,” before Taehyung adds, “It was nice hearing from you again.”

“You too, Tae.”

“Take care of yourself. I’m sorry for waking you up so late.”

“It’s okay.” You sniffle, but you’re not crying as you were in his dream. Just a habit, or an emotional toll. But you’re so achingly kind; how does one forget about you when you say things like, “It was important to you. So it’s okay.”

“Thank you.” Taehyung lets go of the jogger’s loose thread, fist opening as he says, “And hey. Do tell Jungkook about this.”

“Oh… yeah. Somehow I thought you’d tell me not to.”

“Really?”

Taehyung smiles. There was a time when he was in love and evil enough to make the wrong decision. But he knows that at his core, he’s good, and that you wouldn’t have fallen for him if he wasn’t. He needs to live by this very goodness.

He asks, “So, would you’ve kept this from him?”

You think. Only for a short second before you admit, “No. Because he should know. And because this isn’t anything wrong. Him not knowing would feel wrong, though.”

“Exactly. I’m no different, you know? I’m offended you wouldn’t think a bit better of me.”

You laugh again, a lovely sound. Just the right thing to end the day by. And as your snicker ebbs down, you find your voice again, gentle though it breaks his heart, “Good night, Tae.”

That’s it, then. Time to truly end the story.

“Good night.”

Another whisper from the other side, “Night.”

And then, you’re gone.

As soon as your voice disappears, the wild beating of his heart does, too. But not because the nervousness passes; rather, because it gives way to a void. The farewell in your last word opened it immediately, quickly.

One damn word, so many messages. Wishing him the best, as if permitting him a better future. Maybe you’re hopeful for him. For something lying ahead that he’s unaware of still. He doesn’t know.

For now, all he understands is that he’s alone, and that the moment the connection cut, the vacant space in his chest grew to stay for a bit. But…

Another Saturday has arrived, sunrise not too far.

After all the pain, he’s still gotten here. And he’ll remain to witness many more of these warm weekends, time speeding up once the wounds disappear. Maybe someday.

Maybe someday, his days will stop resembling survival and give way to sweetness, a remedy once more.

this was unedited; i'll do so tmrw. so if there were words missing and stuff, let me know :') i hope you read and liked it, especially if you were around for the ride that ry was back then. if not, then thank you still for being here <3 i just needed to get this out of my system either way, even if nobody read it at all lol. i still cherish them a lot sigh

come and chat with me about literally anything, i'll be thrilled <3

[cherryblossompink303]

Patience S2:07:~Operation: Misuzu's reconcilation!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: The host club meet misuzu's daughter ➼ what to expect: "y/n just because you did that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be hurt" ➼ warnings: Transphobia ➼S2:06 / S2:08

"What? You want to work in Karuizawa again this summer?"

"Yes, will misuzu open her pension this year? Y/n and I want to go, I was so busy with final exams I forgot to ask if she needs any help." Haruhi sits across from ranka. "I suppose I can ask her but...it might not be possible, Mizsuzu has been acting weird lately"

"Really?"

"She can't stop smiling, she must have found a new lover! Maybe instead of running the pension, she'll take her lover on a romantic getaway"

Before Haruhi can even reply to her dad Misuzu bursts through the door crying "Ranka!"

"Misuzu?"

"Help me! I don't know what to do! M-my daughter is being rebellious!"

"Your faughter?"

"Waiit up you old fat!" can be heard from out in the hallway. "You ran off with my luggage!" a girl appears in the doorway.

"But if I let you have them Mei, you'll run off!"

"Duh! Who'd want to stay at your rotten place?!"

"You promised your mother that you'd stay with me this summer! I didn't raise you to break promises!"

"You don't raise me at all! How can you call yourself my father?"

"Haruhi...Ranka...please help me!"

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Operation: Misuzu's reconciliation!

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"Hey haruhi?! Where're you going? We've got the last club meeting before the break." The twins watch as Haruhi attempted to run out of their class room at the end of the day. "Sorry, I'm in a hurry, tell everyone I won't be there"

"Absolutely not! You ditched yesterday and the day before! If we don't drag you to the club the boss won't resurface from the abysmal depths of his ocean of despair." "That's right. He thinks you won't come because of him, he's like an abandoned puppy?"

The twisn turn to find that she's already gone "Hey, where'd she go?"

"Haruhi left a while ago"

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"I understand! Even though it's the last day before summer break, haruhi decided to skip club again and go home!" Tamaki's positive facade very quickly breaks as he collapses to the floor in tears "She's avoiding me. She talks to me but keeps her distance. Why?! Why?! Was I too strict with her?!"

"Maybe it's because it's summer boss?" "Haruhi has always kept her distance from you boss" "It's nothing new"

"What did you say?!" he jumps up, ready to fight the twins "Listen! We're all sore that Haruhi ran away! We wanted to make plans with her for the summer"

"Ah you guys don't know" Kyoya chimes in from your table "For the past two days, Haruhi has been going to pick up misuzu's daughter from a high school in a neighboring town."

"Kyoya why don't you tell us these things?"

"Misuzu was divorced seven years ago. Her daughter was a freshman in high school. She grew up with her mother and step father. This summer they're overseas on a business trip, the daughter was going to join them but then decided to stay at misuzu's"

"Why did Haruhi get involved?"

"His daughter used Misuzu as an excuse to stay in Japan. The truth is she can't stand him, she tried to run away as soon as she arrived" You hum, taking a sip of coffee "yeah misuzu begged the fujiokas for help"

"Is the boss crying again? "

"I understand misuzu's sorrow so well that it hurts! As a fellow father, I cannot turn my back on her! Let's go, everyone! Let's bring back the loving relationship between Misuzu and her daughter!"

You sigh "I really thought he would put it together after Kasanoda" Kyoya smirks "You give him too much credit"

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"There she is" Honey points out from where you are all standing from opposite the high school "Hold on" You stop honey from running over "Look"

"Hi Mei, I'm glad I found you"

"You again? You don't have to come everyday! I won't run away!"

"I know but Misuzu asked me"

"Who the heck is misuzu? It's Isao, I-sa-o!"

The guys faces fall, mei being a stark contrast the the girls they are used to at the host club.

"You changed your uniform?"

"Yeah, well you said you didn't want me to wear it here so...I don't understand why"

"Well duh, If you hang around me in a rich school's uniform, people will gossup! And your regular clothes are totally lame! I like rich guys but ouran is out of my league!"

"On that point miss, I think we might get along, hello, I'm Tamaki suoh and these are my agreeable friends." Tamaki approaches them with the rest of you in tow. "What the..."

"They're all so handsome, do you know these guys?"

"Didn't you just say they're out of your league?"

"You must be mei, am I right?"

Mei turns back around to face the club members once again, demeanor changing completely "Yes, I'm Mei Yasumura! Nice to meet you!"

"You're staying at haruhi's house right?" Honey asks. "Three people in that house? What a brutal regimen." "What about your own house? You could have stayed there alone"

"As if! My mom would freak if she found out, I thought I could crash at a friends place for a month but-"

"If it's only a month why not stay at a hotel?" You roll your eyes, "Stop talking you're not helping"

"Whatever, let's go!" Mei starts dragging Haruhi off "This isn't the way home"

"I need to blow off steam at Karaoke! This your fault so it's your treat!"

"Karaoke you say?" "I've never seen before?" The host club descends in a sea of awe at the idea. "...Alright, you better be giving us a lift" mei concedes.

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"Contestant number 10, Tamaki suoh"

"I'll be singing 'next stop: love!'"

"He looks like a foreigner, so why all the old songs?" Mei asks from the 'girls table' that ended up forming "That's a long story" You sigh. "He stares at you when he sings" Mei nods to Haruhi "you think so?"

"Aren't you going to sing Haruhi?" Kyoya asks "Yeah it's a good experience! How about a duet with your father"

"Forget it. Excuse me, I'm going to the rest room" Haruhi storms off, Tamaki huddles in the corner. "Woah" Mei watches on the interaction, slowly approaching Tamaki "So um...what do you want to sing? I'll sing one with you"

"Thank you, you're very kind mei" Tamaki smiles, wiping his tears "I...I wasn't trying to be...no one was worried about you so..."

"Mei, Mei! What do you like besides Karaoke? Me I like cake and..." honey starts to ramble as Mei stares at him in confusion "Well...I like making dresses and..."

"Oh! The same as Misuzu!" The twins chime in.

"What?! I'm not like that jerk!"

"Why do you hate Misuzu so much?"

"You don't know what he's like, he...he treats me like a little kid all the time, always buying frilly dresses and dolls. He always liked cute stuff, but come one! He was once a hard working bank clerk! What happened, now he's..."

"W-Well, Haruhi's father is also-" "But Haruhi's father is actually pretty, and he...he didn't leave his daughter"

You and Tamaki exchange a knowing glance, there it is. "I see, you were lonely"

Haruhi returns from the bathroom "Um tamaki..." she trails off but very quickly Mei drags her straight back into the bathroom demanding that the two of them need to talk.

"What was that about?" Kyoya raises an eyebrow, arms lazily dangling around your shoulders. "I have no idea..."

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"Tamaki?" A week had passed since you all met Mei at the Karaoke, you had gone to Karuizawa with Haruhi to meet with sam as planned. However, what you didn't expect to find however was Tamaki behind the counter.

"Y/n! Good morning! Can I get you anything?"

"Tamaki...are you...working?"

"Well, volunteering, bonding with Misuzu"

You stare back at him blankly "One second" you walk to the window to check the sky "What are you looking at?" Tamaki leans over to follow your gaze "i'm checking for flying pigs"

"Wow you're meaner than haruhi- wait-" The twins car pulls up outside the pension "What are they doing here?" Tamaki doesn't wait for you to finish your sentence before he darts out of the door and towards the car, leaping into it.

"Boss?!"

"I know I saw your car! Did you come to save me? you did right? scoot in" You raise and eyebrow as Haruhi storms past you with a broom in hand "Where is he? He keeps on dodging out of cleaning" You smirk, realising that Tamaki is still tamaki after all, you nod out of the window towards the car.

"You must be quite courageous thinking you can escape cleaning duty" You are unsure if you have ever seen Haruhi this menacing before. "The floor of the guest room is all wet! How many times do I have to tell you to wring out the rags when you're cleaning the floor?!" the beds you mad are sloppy and the flower vases are overflowing with water!! Have you been any help during these last ten days of summer break!"

By the time that Haruhi was done yelling you had caught up with them "b-but misuzu said I helped a lot..."

"She's just being polite, She's got a soft spot for you, there'll be no more slacking off now that I found you" she drags him back inside "Wait, haruhi! Cleaning guestrooms is too difficult for him! That's right! Don't be so hard on him"

The twins climb out of the car "Listen! He'd be a good waiter and he can play the piano!"

"Hmm" Haruhi stares back at them, skeptical "So I guess you two are volunteering for cleanup duty" The twins faces fall, before they get a word in misuzu pops up "Wow! Hikaru and Kaoru came to help too? I'm so happy! I'll be counting on you!"

You laugh "Oh haruhi, you have a beautiful mind sometimes"

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"Would you get me another cup of tea?" "I'd like cake and more cake!" You raise an eyebrow at the sight of the rest of the host club as you descend from your room later that day.

"What are you three doing here?" You laugh as you watch them order the twins around, sitting on a vacant chair at their table "Contributing to sales is also helping out right?" kyoya shrugs, sipping his tea. "Besides it's been a few weeks."

"Clingy" you mutter, shaking your head with a smile, taking a sip of lemonade "what was that?"

"nothing"

"Tamaki all of a sudden snaps out of working "Okay everyone! fate has transpired to bring the host club members together in this very spot! We will now use our work break to hold a host club meeting Karuizawa-style!"

"You say work break but Haruhi, mori, kaoru, and I are the only ones working" Hikaru raises his hand "Anyway what's this meeting for? No one has told us anything"

"It's for the mei and misuzu reconciliation plan, of course, I apologise for my clandestine behavior, but I couldn't risk mei diving our intent! however from now on I need everyone's help. Okay? stage one consists of delivering misuzu's love to mei through his recipes. We're achieving excellent results due to the magnificent teamwork by haruhi and me. mei might not have consciously realised it, but on a spiritual level, she is definetly missing her cooking"

Haruhi had mentioned to you that Tamaki had been learning recipes off misuzu which he then has been giving to haruhi to cook for mei, a strange but oddly sweet plan.

"Well i don't know about spiritual levels, but it's clear that mei doesn't really hate her, at first I didn't know what to do because I didn't understand how she felt but then I noticed how she reacted to the food I made using misuzu's recipes"

"So then the results are due to Haruhi's cooking not the boss's plan" Kaoru notes "And now that stage one has melted the ice around mei's heart It's time for stage two" tamaki places his hands on his hips. "in which kyoya will play the part of a lowlife and attack mei, then misuzu will save her" "nice plan"

Both yours and Kyoya's faces drop at the declaration "you better not" you turn to kyoya "Like I ever would" He turns back "Is this really your solution? you sound like renge"

"Don't say that i just wanna try the lowlife plan!"

"But Tama, where would we do that?"

"Great question honey, next week haruhi's neighborhood is having a summer festival, misuzu told me she used to take mei"

"Are you going to dress up as a lowlife kyoya? we'll be your stylists!"

"Not I, as the saying goes, we need the right person for the hob, surely someone is better for the part" They turn to mori slowly "Not me"

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the festival seems to fawn over mei's hand made Yakuta, although that seemed to be greatly helped by tamaki's over the top praise, the rest of you stepping away from the two of them to talk while Tamaki distracts Mei.

"Kyoya where's misuzu?"

"Further observation is necessary before putting the plan in motion is waiting near the back gate. The operation launches on our signal, many of my undercover staff are in the crowd and I talked to the organizers so there won't be trouble if things get a little rowdy "

"Oh my god" you mutter as you spot kasanoda nearby.

Tamaki leads mei away and around the stalls.

You turn to kyoya "I have a bad feeling about this" he hums back in question, the two of you stepping away from the rest slightly, kyoya keeping a hand on the small of your back to keep you stable in the crowd "I just think this is a thing we shouldn't mess with, or at least not in this way, having Kasanoda fake attack her"

Kyoya sighs "i don't love it myself, but we know kasanoda won't take it too far, mei won't actually get hurt"

"I mean emotionally aswell, mei's not dumb if she figures out what we're doing...look all i'm saying is if you guys pulled this shit with me and my dad I'd be pissed" Kyoya's chin picks up slightly, looking down at you "Ah, so thats what this is about"

"What? No? Of course not-no"

"It's okay, I mean everything that happened with your father is still relatively new, watching a girl go through something similar is bound to be difficult"

"me and mei, are two very different cases, my father didn't leave I pushed him out"

"y/n just because you did that doesn't mean you aren't allowed to be hurt" you sigh, looking away "I don't want to do this right now Kyoya"

while the two of you are distracted you turn around to find Mei berating Kasanoda. "Well so much for that"

Nonetheless Misuzu steps up anyway, attempting to defend mei who really does not need it "What are you doing? I can take care of myself! Anyway, why aren't you working at the pension in some frilly dresses?"

"I...I thought you'd prefer a manly father"

"What are you blathering about? if you could've changed this easily, there'd have been no need for the divorce! Do you have any idea how lonely I've been?"

"Mei...I'm sorry..."

"You chose that lifestyle over mom and me! So you should live it to the fullest! Then i'll accept you as girly-girly or whatever you are"

"mei..."

"i'm outta here, and you're coming too" Mei drags Haruhi out of the festival

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Later that night you are sat cross legged on the sofa, tending to the hypertension caused headache as you sip your hot chocolate. "do you wanna talk about it?" Kyoya questions, slowly approaching you as he sits next to you, insinctively you lean over to rest against his shoulder.

"I don't even know what I would say, my dads an asshole, i've known that for a long time, he's much better out of my life and i've made sure that is going to stay that way, sure I wish it could be different but it isn't so...like I don't know how i feel i guess it's the realisation that I am actually fully alone now, no family, or least not any that I can locate"

"You have family, just not relatives...I know you know that, and I know that we can't fully replace them, but its as you said, he is much better out of your life, and i'll be damned if he tries to show up again" he places a kiss on the top of your head.

Next time on patience....'The twins take the runway!'

'The hitachiin family's reputation is on the line, Mei gets to live out her fashion designer dreams, and you become a model? Find out next time on patience!

We'll see you then!'

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[firewasabeast]

Bucktommy prompt - maybe something fun and summery? beach day or Tommy knows a guy who lets them use his pool for the day or a cook out in the backward, could be just the two of them or them dragging Eddie along to cheer him up or the entire crew. Just something fluffy and happy!

this is... not what you asked for. Although it does include dragging Eddie along. But, I still hope you enjoy!

“Tommy!” Eddie greeted, a little surprised to see the man at his door. “What are you doing here? Did I miss your call?”

“Uh, no. I'm kidnapping you, apparently?”

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “You're what?”

“Kidnapping you,” Tommy repeated with a nod. “You have to come with me.”

“I don't understand what's happening.”

Tommy sighed. “Listen, man, Evan told me I had to be the one to come to the door. Said you'd fight him more than you'd fight me. Told me to tell you we're kidnapping you and taking you to a spa thing.”

“You're not supposed to tell him where we're going!” Buck's voice rang out from the driveway. Tommy took a step back so Eddie could poke his head out. There was Buck, sitting in his Jeep with the window down.

“What the hell are you doing, Buck?”

“Ugh! Just get a change of clothes and get your ass in the Jeep or I'm gonna have Tommy hoist you over his shoulder and shove you in the trunk!”

“What?!” Tommy exclaimed. “Yeah, I will not be doing any of that.”

“You're my muscle, Tommy!” Buck yelled.

“Okay, Buck,” Eddie took a step out onto the entryway, “you can just take your Jeep and your spa and your,” he motioned to Tommy, “your muscle someplace else. You're nuts!” He went to head back into his house, but Tommy placed a hand on the door before he could shut it.

“Please just come with us,” he practically begged. “He's had his clipboard out for two days and it's usually cute and, if I'm being honest, kinda hot-”

“Gross.”

“-but this time it was just terrifying. His checklist was seven pages, Eddie. Single spaced. Help me.”

Eddie glared at him, but his shoulders fell and he relented. “Fine.” He stepped back out and pointed at Buck, “But I'm doing this for Tommy, not for you!”

Buck smiled brightly. “Don't care!”

*****

They were quiet for the nearly hour long car ride to wherever Buck was taking them. It wasn't until they pulled up to some giant pop up tents in the middle of the desert that both Tommy and Eddie realized they had both been duped.

“What the hell is this?” Eddie asked.

“This is a meditation retreat.”

Tommy stared over at Buck from the passenger seat. “You said we were going to an overnight spa.”

Buck nodded. “It did include the word 'spa' on the initial brochure I received.”

“You've got to be joking!” Eddie exclaimed. “Are you clinically insane?”

“Not officially.”

“Evan.”

“Come on, guys! It- It'll be fun,” Buck said, turning off the car. “This lady told me all about it on a call. I checked everything out. They've got different activities in each of the tents, tons of food, a trail to go on. We can connect with each other and nature.”

Eddie's eyes drifted between Buck and the keys in his hand.

“No,” Buck warned.

Eddie lurched forward and grabbed for Buck's keys, nearly elbowing Tommy as he and Buck got into a cat fight for control of the car.

“Give me the keys, Buck!” Eddie yelled.

“No! This is for your own good!”

“Guys-”

“Buck, I was promised a spa day!”

“I promised nothing!”

“Guys-”

Somehow in the chaos, Buck managed to open his sweatpants and drop the keys inside. Eddie stopped, pulled back just enough to turn to Tommy. “You get 'em,” he instructed.

“Excuse me?”

“It's nothing you haven't touched before!”

“I am not grabbing at my boyfriend's dick to get the keys, Eddie.” Tommy opened the passenger door and stepped out, leaning down to face the other two. “Let's just get this over with and we'll be home tomorrow.” He slammed the door and headed for the trunk to get their things.

Buck smirked over at Eddie. “Are you ready to transcend?”

“Sleep with one eye open, Buck,” Eddie warned, scooting over to the door to get out. “One eye open!”

*****

After dropping off their things to a tent that they'd be sharing with nearly 40 other people (something Buck apparently didn't know judging by the look on his face), they headed to the meditation tent.

“I heard this is a great way to lower your blood pressure, increase pain tolerance, and reduce anxiety,” Buck whispered as they entered the space.

“All true,” a woman with the softest voice they'd ever heard greeted them at the entrance. Her nametag read Shawna. “We do like to warn that transcendental meditation can, while very rarely, cause anxiety symptoms, physical pain, dizziness, depersonalization, and derealization. All temporary, of course.”

The three men shared looks, then slowly backed out of the room, with Buck explaining. “I think we'll, um, look around and uh, try this later.”

*****

Next they headed to the 'cleansing center' which turned out to be a mud pit that everyone was entering sans clothes.

“This does not look sanitary, Evan,” Tommy said, grimacing at the thought of where all that mud would end up.

Eddie shook his head. “I am not bathing nude in mud with either of you.”

“It didn't... They didn't mention this online,” Buck admitted.

“Maybe you should start with some refreshments.”

Tommy jumped when he realized Shawna was right beside him. “Oh God! You are quiet.”

She smiled gently. “A lot of our newest members are often thrown off by some of our methods here. But we have a tent over there with delicious food and drinks. You could start there.”

*****

Leaving Shawna behind, they walked to the refreshments tent. There were two tables with food spread out over them, along with cups of lukewarm water.

“Mung bean salad,” Eddie read off an index card beside a plate of food. “You brought me out to the desert for mung bean salad, Buck?”

“That can't be all they have.” He pointed to something in front of Tommy. “What's that?”

“Garlic vegan-parmesan white beans,” Tommy read. “It's like eighty-five degrees out here and they've got garlic parmesan beans?”

They moved down the line until Buck stopped at something else. “Okay, this! How about fifteen... bean... casserole. Why is everything bean?”

“Because beans are a great source of protien.”

“Jesus!” Tommy jumped again, Shawna beside him. “Seriously, do you glide or something?”

“You know what,” she said, placing her hands on her hips, “I think I have the perfect place for you three. Come along, follow me.”

Reluctantly, the group followed her to yet another tent, this one empty. She gestured for them to sit on these little towels that were lying on the ground in a circle, and once she closed the tent doors she joined them.

“I'm sensing tension between you three,” she began. “When we sense tension in a group, we like to take you here to the reflection tent and have conversation.”

“There's no tension,” Eddie insisted tensely.

Buck scoffed. “Yeah. Okay.”

“See,” Shawna motioned between them. “There's the tension.”

“I'm actually pretty fine,” Tommy said. “Can I go?”

Shawna shook her head. “If one part of the throuple has an issue, then you all have an issue.”

Eddie snorted at that one. “We are not a throuple.”

“Oh.” The softness of Shawna's voice broke for a second. She cleared her throat to recover, “You're not?”

Buck shook his head, pointing around the room as he explained. “I'm dating him, he and him are good friends, and he and I are best friends. At least, we're supposed to be.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on, Buck.”

“Alright.” Shawna stretched her arms out to stop them. “Let's take a breath and readjust our inner monologue.”

“I actually have a question,” Tommy said, raising his hand.

Shawna nodded. “Please, lead the way.”

“Yeah, alright. Are you actually a certified therapist or...?”

Shawna smiled, although a bit coldly. “I believe life gives me all the certification I need.”

“So that's a no then.”

“Tommy,” Buck warned through gritted teeth. “Eddie needs our help, so that's what we're going to do.”

“I do not need your help, Buck! I don't even know what you're talking about. Everything's been fine.”

“Ha! It has not been fine, Eddie. I mean, look at you!” he exclaimed, waving his hand up and down in Eddie's direction.

Shawna and Tommy both looked over at Eddie, seemingly confused.

“Buck,” Shawna instructed, “why don't you tell us exactly what you mean?”

“The mustache,” he clarified. “It's a cry for help if I ever saw one.”

Tommy ran his hands through his hair. “You brought us here because of a mustache?”

Eddie glared. “You cannot be serious.”

“I am very serious. First Christopher left, then Gerrard came, you- you started working out more and more, and finally the mustache appeared. That's when I knew something had to be done.”

“Who is Christopher?” Shawna asked.

“He's Eddie's son,” Tommy explained, “that Evan helps take care of a lot, and I was starting to get to know.”

“And he left?”

“Because he,” Buck took over, “started a relationship with a lookalike of Christopher's dead mother.”

Eddie shook his head. “It was not a relationship.”

“It was a something-ship.”

Tommy was beginning to take pity on Shawna. Poor woman looked in way over her head.

“And Gerrard?” she asked.

“Gerrard was my old captain at the fire station I used to work at,” Tommy said. “He got transferred for being an asshole, but now he's back and he's currently their captain.”

“But not your captain?”

“No, because I transferred.”

Shawna paused. “But that's where you met your boyfriend and your friend?”

“Oh, no, I met them years after I transferred when I agreed to fly them through a hurricane to find their captain-at-the-time, who also used to be my captain, after their cruise ship got caught up in the storm.”

Shawna stared off into the distance. “I'm not sure life certified me for this,” she murmured.

“Let's get back to my mustache,” Eddie demanded. “There's nothing wrong with it.”

“Cry. For. Help,” Buck replied pointedly.

“His mustache doesn't even look bad,” Tommy defended, turning to Eddie. “It doesn't look bad.”

“Thank you, Tommy. See, Buck, Tommy likes my mustache!”

“Tommy also likes fanny packs. He's not the best for advice on fashion.”

“Hey!” Tommy folded his arms over his chest. “Fanny packs are convenient and they've made a comeback.”

“Fanny packs are just fine,” Eddie agreed. He held up his hand for a high-five, which Tommy returned.

“So now you're both ganging up on me?”

“No one's ganging up on you, Evan. We're just confused as to why we're here. Especially me though, because I'm good with both you and Eddie.”

“I thought we were good too!” Eddie exclaimed.

“We are good,” Buck reassured, “but you're not good. I- I don't know, Eddie. You're home all the time, you don't do much except work out and brush your mustache-”

“Brush your mustache?” Tommy questioned.

“-and I wanted to do something that got you out with your friends for a little bit. Something different. Maybe you find yourself in the process.”

Eddie took a breath, relaxing a bit at Buck's reasoning. “Buck, I appreciate you trying to help me, and I admit that I haven't exactly been social lately, but do you really think coming here is what's best for me?”

Buck glanced around the tent. Dirt under their feet, sweat dripping off their clothes, hunger pains already starting from the lack of edible food. “Probably not. Besides, the uh, the research I did online didn't mention like any of this stuff. I'm pretty sure we're at a cult right now.”

“It's a way of life,” Shawna interjected on deaf ears.

“Pizza and beer at my place?” Tommy suggested. “We'll have a movie marathon and, you know, air conditioning.”

They all began to stand.

“I'll get our stuff,” Eddie offered.

Buck nodded. “I'll start the car.”

“Thanks for all your help, Shawna,” Tommy said, sending finger guns her way. “You really... You did something.”

Shawna simply waved at them as they left, not even trying to get them to stay.

She needed to head to the meditation tent, stat.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hihi Raven! Not sure if someone else has asked this, but what's your opinion on Lilia?He was quite low on your twst character tierlist so i was wondering if there was a specific reason(s) lol.I love hearing others insights and perspectives on Lilia since he is one of the most interesting characters in twst imo. 🦇

[Referencing my personal Twst character tier list!]

I originally had Lilia pretty high up (in the "like" tier) back in about 2022? I thought he was pretty chill and fun, an interesting contrast to the rest of Diasomnia, who come off as very serious or somber. But over time... I became increasingly annoyed with his behavior. As I state in this post, which documents changes in my feelings on the Twst characters over time, I still think Lilia's a far better parental figure than some of the other adults we've seen in Twst, but what really kills him for me is how overly lenient he is, specifically as it pertains to Malleus. Lilia's lapses in maturity no longer read as a cute quirk, they now come off as failures to be stern with those under his care.

One thing that really bothers me about Malleus is how he makes mistake after mistake but is never properly called out for them by the narrative. I'm not frustrated that he messes up (this is normal and expected for everyone because we're all imperfect!), I'm frustrated that Malleus doesn't seem to realize that he messed up most of the time. And if you're not aware of the issue, how can you target and address it??? I feel that part of this problem is because Lilia enables Malleus or doesn't fully commit to scolding him or taking the situation seriously when he really, REALLY should.

Back in book 2, Lilia tells Leona off for his underhanded tactics, calling him unworthy of the crown (and to be clear, Lilia has a right to be mad here, because Leona was literally threatening the health, safety, and wellbeing of his liege). However, where Lilia loses me is when he declares that Malleus is the noble and superior king when... ironically, we never see Malleus truly "lead" or even strongly express any positions on policies or governance. Lilia doesn't seem to hold Malleus accountable for doing any of his supposed duties either. I understand him filling in for Malleus at dorm leader meetings since he's often unreachable for them, but how come Lilia is handling so much of the dorm leader work, repeatedly makes excuses for Malleus not being there, AND fake cries and tries to shove the responsibility of finding Malleus onto other dorm leaders??? Azul is right when he says "What are we supposed to do, begin every meeting by searching for Malleus? This is HIS problem." Vil also rightfully points out that "Both [Lilia] and [Malleus] are making a mockery of this." Lilia ONLY begins to take the situation seriously when Leona and Idia begin questioning Malleus' and his royal status/how fit he is to rule. Why was he not concerned earlier???? If Lilia was REALLY concerned about Malleus connecting with his peers and making the most of his time at school, shouldn't he agree with them and push hard for Malleus to show up on his own???

I feel Lilia is extremely non-committal in that entire set of vignettes. One minute he's upset the dorm leaders "insinuated [skipping meetings] reflected poorly on [Malleus's] behavior", implying that Lilia disagrees with that take??? The next, he's telling Malleus off for "making excuses" and how he "ought to put more thought" into his conduct. Lilia even says that Malleus shares a fair bit of the blame and makes no effort to connect with his peers. But then when Malleus returns from a failed attempt, all Lilia does is laugh about it and not give him any proper closure or advice on what he can do better next time??? Which makes me think that all the times Lilia tries to advise Malleus now feel like just lip service. Where's the actual... I don't know, TEACHING????

That's not the only thing with Lilia. He frequently enables Malleus instead of properly showing him right from wrong (and yes, being TOO lenient is not great parenting). Instead of stopping Malleus from doing something drastic just to amuse some random ghosts that missed Halloween, Lilia joins Malleus, and this leads into the disaster that is Endless Halloween Night. He doesn't once think about how this would obviously worry the others, ESPECIALLY Silver (who legitimately got mad at Lilia for this prank)? Lilia is, quite literally, the only adult in the room and the guardian for Malleus while he's at NRC. He should know so much better than to pull off a stunt like this??? You can still have Halloween mischief, but maybe suggest something less extreme??? Or put up more of a fight when Malleus suggests it... Or be more sincere in your apology to the students you kidnapped... Something, ANYTHING.

And, worst of all, Lilia is always apologizing for or to Malleus while simultaneously also telling Malleus HE doesn't need to apologize for literally anything. Lilia tells him he doesn't need to say sorry for physically harming others, he doesn't need to say sorry for not controlling his temper, he doesn't need to say sorry for wasting his peers' time by missing meetings. Come ON, at least teach the guy to better control his emotions if you know how strong he is than allowing him to carrying on concealing?? (This feels like the kind of thing Elsa’s parents would do 💀) Malleus is NEVER held accountable for anything he does, he is constantly being coddled by Lilia as if he is an infant that needs to be shielded from any blame or fault. I think Leona really put it best when he tells Lilia that "[Malleus is] not some lost child. Quit treating him like one."

I think what made me fully realize that Lilia had gone downhill for me was when he was brought back from death by Malleus and Silver's combined love magic. What does Lilia do right after? He apologizes to Malleus. HE apologizes TO Malleus... for not realizing Malleus was lonely sooner?????? E-Excuse me???? 😭 Why is LILIA the one saying sorry when Malleus was the one intentionally hiding his own feelings??? Lilia cannot be expected to be a mind reader???? I get that maybe Lilia feels some responsibility for not accepting that others feel love for him (and therefore he denies Malleus’s affection for him) but the framing of the apology makes it come across as Lilia continuing to baby Malleus by shouldering all the blame for him after everything that happened. In turn, this is actually stunting Malleus and preventing his character from growing. This is so endlessly frustrating for me to watch OTL How's a lizard gonna learn anything if Lilia keeps creating situations in which Malleus is protected from any kind of responsibility, enables some of his prince’s worst possible aspects, and fails to teach him outside of frequent lectures about the importance of unity and understanding??? Obviously those methods aren’t working if Malleus has not changed a bit in his 3 years (which Lilia reports himself) at NRC.

For all that Lilia preaches about having Malleus expand his worldviews, Lilia sure is keeping Malleus pretty boxed in sometimes 😭 And for that... I, unfortunately, no longer enjoy him.