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xoxomoonlightxoxo · 5 months

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Somewhere Between Hello and Goodbye | Ch. 1: The Infinity Necklace

“I love you too, Koo,” a faint whisper comes out of my parted lips as Jungkook’s eyes slowly close from the anesthesia spreading through his system, blocking any remaining signals of consciousness. Just an hour ago, this room was filled with our laughter as his teasing request to ruin our friendship bounced off the four walls, fueling the flush rising up my cheeks. Now, the same room is still, as if time itself has stopped, the walls, echoing merely the beeps of the heart monitor.

As my body becomes numb to the cold floor, I lose track of time, dissociating into the far abyss. And as my eyes rest shut, it’s as if I can still feel his warm embrace, the way his grip tightens around my waist with every restless move I try to make. While hundreds of souls pass by my lifeless form under the dim lights of the main hallway, nothing but the scent of Jungkook’s vanilla musk lingers in the cold air. Koo, please tell me this isn’t real.

"Mira, honey, wake up,” whispers of a familiar voice bring me back to reality as I feel a hand on my shivering shoulders.

“Koo?” I reply momentarily, red, puffy eyes looking up in search of his being. One that was certainly no longer there, as my helpless hope ceased to exist upon seeing Tae’s worried face. Feeling my eyes swell with tears, his arms encompass my distressed self as my fatigued body gives into his warm embrace. Stroking my curls, his touch is gentle, cautious even.

“It’s going to be okay Mira. Jungkook is a tough guy, he will be fine, alright?” he assures, wiping the tears rolling down my face, before turning his attention to Jimin's out-of-breath state as he rushes towards us.

“Sorry, the traffic was really bad,” Jimin explains to Tae before looking past his form as his eyes search my crouched body.

“Mira, how are you? Do you want some water? I can grab you something from the cafeteria …” he goes on as the head surgeon and their team of staff exit Jungkook's room. Hearing the door close behind them, my eyes shoot up, slight hope regenerating within those tired orbs.

“How is he? Can I see him? Please,” my voice was faint and shaky. Before proceeding with the prognosis the doctor clears her throat, looking over Jungkook's records.

“The head injury experienced by Mr. Jeon has resulted in trauma that escalated dramatically, leaving him in a temporary coma. It is important to note that prior to our operation, the effects of the incident were seen in his inability to access the short-term memory in his brain. Despite meeting us just a few hours ago, Mr. Jeon was in visible distress, alarmed at the sight of “unrecognizable” doctors and nurses,” she explains, maintaining eye contact with all three of us, anticipating the potential inquiries that could come up.

“Fortunately, his vitals are good, which means that Mr. Jeon’s recovery shouldn't take longer than, I reckon, a week or two,”

“What about his memory? Will he be able to recover it?” Jimin buds in, eyes still monitoring my state. Which to be truthful, was in complete shock. My body was experiencing everything and nothing all at once. At that moment, I could cry, hyperventilate, scream, yell, curse, and all of the above. But I didn't, instead, my eyes were trying to sneak even the slightest glimpse of Jungkook through the little window.

“Doctor, could I please see him?” I plead, looking back at Tae and Jimin for their mutual help.

“I'm sorry miss, but visitations are not allowed until the following day,” she says firmly, before being interrupted by Tae’s attempt at negotiation.

“Please, doctor, could we stay just for tonight? We will leave first thing tomorrow morning. His family is all in Busan,” he explains.

Looking back at the staff, the doctor clears her throat again before turning her gaze back on me with slightly furrowed brows.

“Alright, but just for tonight. Please, do not disturb him,” her tone is strict and sharp.

As my chest heaves up, I can feel my breathing speed up, throat tightening in the process. Eyes swelled up with tears, I pushed past the group of nurses and doctors and rushed toward Jungkook’s still body. His skin was pale and cold to the touch. Eyes closed, he looked completely helpless, form, small and fragile under the hospital lights.

“Koo,” I whisper, before dropping beside him, intertwining my hand with his. Placing a gentle kiss on his soft skin, I wipe the teardrops rolling down my face before glancing back at Tae and Jimin, who stood still by the door frame. It’s their best friend, their brother, the baby of the group. Eyes scattering his form, they try to hold back their own tears, before coming in to comfort me again.

As the night went on the room filled with silence, my eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each passing hour. Jimin went out to get us some food, while Tae stayed with me, gently caressing my hair as my head rested beside Jungkook’s. I didn’t mean to but I guess, my body couldn’t resist any longer, giving in to the fatigue as my eyes slowly shut. Falling asleep, I could feel Jimin covering my seated form with his jacket, as their voices became increasingly distant.

“I can sleep on the floor, it's fine,” Jimin suggests.

“Are you insane? It’s cold and dirty, let’s just share the couch,” Tae says, before plopping his aching body on the soft cushion. Doing the same, Jimin exhales deeply, shaking his head trying to comprehend the aftermath of the situation. His analysis, however, was short-lived, as the two succumbed to their own fatigue, falling asleep rather quickly. And, as the beeping sound of the heart machine filled the atmosphere, I sneaked a quick glance at the couch, smiling upon seeing both friends covered under Tae’s jacket.

- -

Staying true to our word, we were gone by the morning but as I looked back at Jungkook’s pale face the aching feeling in my heart grew stronger.

“I’ll be back Koo, I promise,” I whisper into his ear, tearful gaze focused on his closed eyes. With hopes of receiving even the slightest sign of his consciousness, I wait just a little longer before covering his still body with the soft blanket.

The following days were filled with visits from Jungkook’s faculty friends and work acquaintances, who brought anything and everything that once made him laugh. Eventually, as the room filled with his memories, the dim lights under which Jungkook slept became brighter, fueling back the life he was once so full of.

“I hope you like it, baby,” I say softly, looking at the silver necklace around his neck. An infinity necklace. A symbol of never-ending love pillared on an unending bond between two people.

“Koo, you promised you wouldn’t leave. But, I guess, it’s my turn to wait for you now. I’ll wait for infinity if I have to. Just please come back to me,” my words mutter into the soft kiss on his forehead, as tears roll down my face. Leaning closer, I rest my head on his as we sit in the deafening silence. I miss his laugh and the little nose crunch that followed right after. I miss his bunny teeth and the way his doe eyes sparkled. I just miss … him.

- -

Laughter and chatter fill the lecture hall as the professor dismisses the class upon wishing everyone a restful winter break. Glancing at Tae, we exchange soft smiles before heading out. Although my body desperately needs this break, my mind and heart are just simply not at ease, so it’s hard to truly appreciate the free time. Especially, without the one person I was meant to spend it with.

“I’m going to try out the bakery that just opened by our dormitory, do you want me to grab you something?” Tae asks with a boxy smile, eyes searching mine.

“No, thanks Tae. I’m gonna drop by Jungkook, and see how he’s doing,” I say softly. Even though, we both know how he is doing. Unconscious and lonely. Nonetheless, I promised him I wouldn’t leave, so I tried to visit every day, becoming a familiar face to the receptionists working at the front. And, although Tae knows this isn’t the healthiest of coping mechanisms, he doesn’t have the heart to snap me out of it, so instead, he pulls me into a warm hug before we wave each other goodbye.

- -

Stopping by the flower shop, I grab a bouquet of tiger lilies which were Koo’s favourite, before heading to the hospital. As the winter season progressed, the days became colder and darker. But, nothing could stop me, especially not when even the mere thought of being beside Jungkook warmed my aching heart. So, there I was, rushing towards his embrace before being abruptly stopped in my tracks upon seeing the empty room. Nothing, and I mean nothing is left of Jungkook’s presence. Feeling my breathing increase, I double-check the room number, even though I’ve now memorized every inch of his premises.

“Sorry, but where is the patient residing in room 9223?” I ask one of the nurses passing by.

“Oh, Mr. Jeon has been discharged,” she replies calmly, her smile slowly fading upon seeing the way my eyebrows furrowed with confusion.

“Discharged? By who? How? I was here yesterday, and he was still unconscious,” I exclaim, voice now shaky.

“Mr. Jeon was discharged early in the morning by his parents,” the nurse continued before excusing herself as the ringing of her pager filled the silence between us. And, as my eyes swell with tears, I dial Jimin’s phone number, hoping he would know where Jungkook is.

“Mira?”

“Jimin? Jiminah, is Jungkook with you?” I stutter nervously, tears rolling down my flushed face.

“No, I was just going to call you. His room is empty, what’s going on?” Jimin explains, sounding just as confused.

“I don’t know, apparently, his parents came to pick him up,” I shake my head, trying to regain my composure as my hands begin to tremble. Jungkook wouldn’t leave without telling me. Right?

Next l Index

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befuddled-calico-whump · 5 months

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The Return

cw: referenced torture, intimate whumper, mild dissociation, nudity, dubcon touch, vaguely referenced dubcon

previous ///// T$$ Masterlist

The spy becomes Sahota again as he passes through the compound doors, leaving behind two dead men in a courthouse basement. Two more tally marks on a more morbid list, one he's never bothered to make. Nowadays, he almost wishes he'd been counting his kills from the start, if only to know how bloodsoaked he’s become, if only to remind himself that this is who he is, all he'll ever be.

If you're drowning in blood, there are no lifeboats coming to save you.

Sahota walks silent into the bedroom he shares with Shepard Vic, the one place his master allows him to be Ander, though it's been quite some time since he's felt like Ander. He doesn't turn on the lights, not wanting to wake Vic, and makes his way into the connected bathroom from memory, closing the door behind him and flipping on the single bulb that sits muted over the shower.

He doesn't look into the mirror as he crosses the small room. He already knows what he'll see. A bruised and scarred face that doesn't always feel like his own. Sahota turns the hot water on and strips, trying to suppress a wince as he removes his shirt even though the session is over and he's alone. It's a habit. He does a cursory glance in the mirror to look over his back, finding it bruised, but not nearly as bad as his ribs and stomach. Another one of his captors’ flaws. They'd have better luck with a victim if they'd broaden their area of attack, if they got creative.

Along with the cuts and bruises, they’d also given his hands some attention. Two broken fingers on the right, and a pulled nail on his left index. If they'd been smarter, they would've saved those for the camera. It was the only time they'd made him scream.

But then, dead men don't need to be smart.

Sahota steps into the flow of hot water, carefully running his hands through his hair, washing off the weariness of the mission. In less than six hours, he'll need to be alert and ready to brief the team on the new intel. Knowing them and their naivete, they'll probably question his acquired bruises instead of letting it lie, but they should shut up quick enough if he offers no explanation.

He thinks they might be afraid of him. They should be, but their fear doesn't bring the satisfaction he’d thought it would. His own fault, really. He still gets tangled in his own emotions, in something that threatens to grow into attachment. He should be reveling in the way they look at him, at the feeling of finally being the one calling the shots, the one in control, the one who's doing the hurting.

But it doesn't feel good. It just makes him feel like Vic.

Sahota lets out a sigh as he turns his face upwards to let the water fall on it—

—and tenses as he feels a pair of hands settles on his waist.

Vic. He has the size, the heat, the calloused palms memorized. His body relaxes.

The older man slips under the water to join him. “Back already?”

“They didn't stand a chance.” He leans into the heat of Vic's body. He likes him better when he's hurt, that's no secret. It's when he can expect the most attention, even with the new team around to divide his master's focus.

“I'm glad. I thought I'd miss you tonight,” Vic says, nuzzling the side of his neck. Over the years they've settled into something more akin to the life of an old married couple, if that couple dealt in blood. Stolen kisses and affectionate touches, maybe being laid down in bed a few times a week. It almost feels warm and gentle and genuine. Sahota could make himself believe it if not for nights like this, when he returns wounded and some of Vic's old habits open their eyes.

His master moves one hand up his side, digging fingers into his bruised ribs until the pressure drags a yelp from his throat. He pulls him around so they're face-to-face and kisses him through the pain as he holds him in a too-tight embrace.

“Did you find anything?” The older man's tone shifts to something more businesslike. How easily Vic changes roles, seemingly without struggle or pause. The spy wishes it could flow so well for him.

“Yes. I've compiled everything into a file. I'll have it ready to go by morning.”

“Good job.”

A seed of warmth blooms in Sahota's chest at the words, simple as they are. “How much longer do you think it will be until we're ready to launch this mission?”

Vic reaches around to shut off the water. “A few more weeks at most. They're making steady progress. Hunter especially.”

Sahota tenses at the mention of Harbor, but forces himself to shake it off, stepping out onto the bath mat. “Is that so?” is all he says. He's already seen the way Vic looks at him. Like a cat watching a mouse. A new toy.

He used to get that look in his eyes for him, and Sahota hates the twinge of jealousy in his chest, hates the sharper emotions hiding behind it.

“His biotech will prove invaluable for the mission. Maybe for more.”

“More?”

“He’d be an asset to the team.”

Sahota knows he isn't talking about the new kids. He means the two of them. The team. He doubts Harbor's role will end at asset. A sick mixture of jealousy and fear creeps up his throat, threatening to spill out of his mouth in spoken worries, in pleading don't replace me's, don't make me obsolete's.

He chokes it down. Vic wants what Vic wants, and attempting to sway his desires only ever ends poorly.

Instead, Sahota towels off, careful to hold the thick fabric only in his uninjured fingers.

“Maybe he will,” he says. He has no time to waste on his own conflicting emotions. He has intelligence to sort, and if he gets started now, he might be able to catch a few hours of sleep before the team is awake.

He dresses, pocketing a roll of medical tape. He'll set and bind his fingers while the files are uploading. It's more efficient that way.

Vic calls after him in a soft voice, in the tone that reminds Sahota that he does love him, in what ways he can.

“Goodnight, little spy.”

Another name reserved for closed doors, for just the two of them. To remind him that he belongs to Vic, and he should be grateful.

“Good night,” he replies, then pulls the door closed behind him.

@theonewithallthefixations , @violet-prism-creatively , @whump-me

#sahota after being tortured: *criticizing his captors methods and lack of creativity*#yeah heed the warnings! sahota definitely gets a darker tone than the rest #and yeah im on a sahota roll i guess #t$$ sahota #intimate whumper #spy whump #total$hit$how #angst #a sanitized version for this account

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dark666posting · 2 years

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Doll Face

TW: NON CON, NON CON, NON CON*** breaking and entering, dark!Billy, I am sorry, but I'm also not. I'm going through it rn.

Billy watched you go home every single night. He knew exactly when you got off work, 11 PM. For weeks he watched. Tonight, watching wasn't going to cut it anymore. He needed something else from you, and you didn't have a choice.

At 10:50 PM he forced his way through the back door of your empty home. He was rummaging around your panty drawer by 10:55. The house was pitch black due to the breakers he switched before you got home. The way your scent enveloped him on your bed only fueled the desperate rage inside him.

You had no idea you'd brought this upon yourself when you turned him down in front of his friends at the bar. The memory of his grip on your wrist has haunted you for all these weeks since, but you were not once aware of his plan.

You walk into your home nonchalantly. You reach for a light switch, but nothing happens.

"Ugh, shit," you mumble, dropping your purse and heading down your hallway to the laundry room. You're passing your bedroom door when a familiar grip wraps around your arm and yanks you inside. You try to scream, but a large, strong hand is quickly placed over your mouth.

"I think screaming would be a really fucking bad idea right now, yeah?" He presses a switchblade into your neck, waiting for your next move. Tears instantly fall down your face as you beg him to let you go.

"Please don't kill me, I-" he cuts you off with a hard slap to the face. The pain knocks the wind out of you.

"Shut. The fuck. Up." His words were carefully punctuated with anger. "I'm not going to kill you unless you make me. But I am gonna have a little fun. You like fun, don't you baby?" He drags your squirming body to the bed where he throws you down on your back. In one quick motion, he rips the shirt off your body, exposing your braless chest.

"Please, no! Please stop!" You fight and slap at him, but it's no use. He doesn't even budge no matter how hard you think you're hitting him. Another swift movement and your pants are being ripped down your legs.

"You're so weak," he holds you in place with one hand as the other loosens his belt. "So defenseless." He chuckles as he lines his throbbing erection up with your tight hole. You gather all your strength in an attempt to free yourself, but all you can do is land one solid smack across his face.

Everything stops for a moment. He slowly turns his face back to yours, recoiling from the hit. You can barely see him, but you know his face is nothing short of enraged. His eyes are wide and angry. A deranged smile occupies his face as his grip grows impossibly tighter. You whimper in pain as he seethes through his teeth.

"That was a mistake." The last sentence you hear before he's plunging into you to his hilt. You scream, his eyes shine as he basks in the view.

"Please stop! Please!" Your cries echo through the house, alerting no one. He growls and grunts as he ruts into you, slamming his pelvis as hard as he can against you. Once you realize you're hopeless, you try to dissociate the pain away.

"Oh no you don't, stay with me." He takes your jaw in his hand and slaps the side of your face repeatedly. "Tell me how bad it hurts, baby."

"Please... Stop... Please stop... Please..." You sob, covering your face with both hands in shame. He knows you're too weak to fight, so there's no point in holding you down anymore.

"I love the way you clench around me when you cry, dollface." He picks up his pace as you tighten. "Fuck, I'm gonna have to come back for you, aren't I?"

"Noooo!" You scream and cry, dreading the idea of him returning to defile you all over again. He starts running rough circles on your clit as he fucks you, the overstimulation starts to feel like sharp pain as he works you up to your orgasm.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he marvels as you squirt over his cock, flooding his pants in the climax. "Begging me to stop, but fucking look at you. Filthy fucking thing." He's still fucking you, destroying you from the inside, it feels.

"Please!" You wail, thrashing and writhing beneath him.

"You're gonna be my little fuck doll," he growls into your ear as he approaches his climax. "My little dollface." He huffs before finishing deep inside of you. You cry and squirm, feeling his disgusting warmth fill you.

"Oh my god..." You sob into your hands as his cum leaks out of you.

"I'll be back for you, doll. Don't bother telling anyone about this, I know a few guys that would love to have a turn with you if I got locked up." He takes a quick polaroid of your fucked out body and exits through the front door.

The next week you're on edge every single day. Locking all your doors as much as possible and double-checking every window. You barely sleep, you barely eat. You don't know when the mystery man will return and you don't know what he wants from you. It feels like you're being punished.

You jump suddenly when you hear your doorbell ring. You check the clock, 6 PM. You cautiously step toward the door and peek out the window. It's one of the neighbors, you think he said his name was Billy? Overwhelmed with relief, you open the door.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. I needed to borrow some salt from you, if I could." He was charming and handsome and strangely familiar.

"Of course, come on in. How much do you need?"

"Just a pinch, really. Not much at all." He smiles, leaning against the counter as you pour salt into a small container for him. "You know, I think we've met before."

"Oh yeah? Where?" You smile, your job allows you to meet a lot of people.

"That bar near the mall. I can't recall the name." His smooth voice is clouded with a vague sense of threat.

"Oh, um, yeah. I do, I go there a lot. I used to." You stare at the tiny container of salt in front of you, too anxious to look at Billy. Something felt wrong.

"Yeah, you do." He beams at you. "How about finally letting me take you out like we planned, dollface?" His words, his voice, his scent, all of it comes flooding back to you. The incident at the bar and the incident just last week. Your breathing begins to catch in your chest as you slowly look up to meet his gaze. He's smiling sadistically, starting at you through half-lidded eyes.

"B-Billy-" your words are nothing more than terrified sobs. He rises from his relaxed, leaning position and slowly stalks toward you, towering over your frame.

"What is it, doll?" He tucks a loose tuft of hair behind your ear.

"P-Please don't hurt me again," you beg, knees buckling in fear.

"We'll see."

#billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove #billy hargrove non con #non con #billy hargrove imagine #tw: noncon #billy x reader #billy hargrove x reader #dark!billy hargrove #dacre montgomery #dub con

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ravieisunhinged · 10 months

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Talk To Me

Nick Folio x Reader

Oneshot / Imagine

Content Warning: Angst and fluff are included.

Background - You're having a bad day, and you don't want to open up as you feel as though you don't want to be a bother, and you're scared to. Nick is on one of the last days of tour when he notices, so he tries texting you. You don't reply, and when he arrives home he finds you in bed. He tries talking to you, and you get stubborn. Eventually, you break down and he comforts you.

You've been struggling with your mental health for a while, and today was clearly your breaking point. A customer yelled at you at your job, and you just took it. When you got home, you broke down crying.

After you stop, you check your phone and see a text from Nick. He's asking how your day was but you don't have any motivation to reply at the moment, so you don't.

You get in bed, and just dissociate forgetting the world is a thing. Wondering if it even exists. You don't have work for the weekend, and you're glad to have days off.

A while later, you hear your phone go off again. You know you're making Nick grow concerned by not replying, but you just can't get the energy to pick up your phone and reply. It's too much work.

You end up falling asleep, having the worst dream imagineable. Basically shit you don't want happening in your life, ever.

On the other hand, Nick is growing concerned about you as the minutes go by.

You haven't replied to his texts in a few days, and this is not like you. You always reply to him, hence why this man is genuinely worried about you.

Because of this, he decided to come to your place tonight.

Currently, you were in bed. Staring at the ceiling. Second guessing if anyone actually likes you. If people are secretly talking shit behind your back.

You know it isn't actually true, but you can't help these thoughts.

The next thing you know, you hear someone unlocking the front door. Your eyes widen, and you turn around, shutting your eyes.

A few moments later, you hear your door open, then the light being turned on. This makes you groan.

"Is that really necessary dude." You say pulling the covers over you.

He walks to your side, and yanks the covers off of you. This results in you crossing your arms.

"Yes it is. Either I did something, or something is bothering you." He says.

"You didn't have to wake me up like that." You mumble.

"I'm worried babe." He says, getting on your side of the bed.

"It's nothing." You say turning around.

"If I give you your blankets back will you tell me? Please?" He says.

"Fine." You groan.

He pulls the covers over the both of you and turns you around.

Once you look at him, your eyes start to water. He pulls you close to him, and just holds you.

"Let it out, I'm here. It's okay." He says.

You start to cry, and you let it all out. After a while, you look up at him and say, "I love you."

"I love you too. Now what happened?" He asks, wiping your tears.

"Just my mental health being bad like usual, and on top of that I had a shitty day at work." You say.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've listened.." He asks.

"I was scared to, and I didn't want to be a bother.." You mumble.

"Listen to me, you are most certainly not a bother. You're not annoying either. Please don't be scared to talk to me." He says.

"Sorry.." You say softly.

"No, no apologizing. All I care about is if you're okay." He says.

"I'm a little bit better now that you're here." You reply.

"Is there anything you want to do, to help you feel better?" He asks

"I dunno, any suggestions?" You ask.

"Well, you could take a shower, and I could order us some food. Then we could lay here and watch some movies?" He suggests.

"We could do that." You say.

"I'll order us some food then. Anything specific you want?" He asks.

"Just my favorite." You say.

"Got it." He says.

"I'm gonna go shower now." You say, getting out of bed.

"Alright. Don't rush." He says, then smiles at you.

You smile back, and grab a change of clothes before walking to the restroom.

After you do what you need to do, you join Nick back in bed. A while later, the food comes and he walks out to go grab it. He then comes back with the food, and you both eat while watching a movie.

For the rest of the night, you cuddle and watch movies. Eventually falling asleep while the TV is on.

#bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #nick folio fic

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fairydares · 9 months

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Reminiscing on the Hard Road (A Gruvia Fic)

Rating: M

Summary: While on his way to a mission, Gray reflects on the hardships, tears, battles, and triumphs which led to him and Juvia finding their happiness together. (Or: the story of how they finally, officially got together told through memories).

AO3 Link ; FFNet Link

Words: ~8,000

Warnings: Please read with caution as this contains adult themes & situations (though nothing explicit). Also swearing and allusions to mental illness, dissociation and depression symptoms especially. Man this feels like the end of a drug commercial. Enjoy!

AN: I realized how long it'd been since I updated Chasing Tails and was feeling really bad about it. I'm so sorry, guys! I've just been really busy! I don't have time to get Chapter 5 up tonight, but I do have the time to share this Gruvia piece I wrote a while ago as a karmic sort of apology.

With that in mind, this is a bit of a rough, long one-shot. It comes from a chapter in a larger, mostly Nalu-focused fic which I may or may not ever actually finish writing. Sooo it's not even really a one-shot so much as it's, like, a segment of a chapter from one. I also barely had time to clean it up ever so slightly.

However, I thought Gruvia fans would appreciate anyway. Maybe one day, I'll write the whole thing because I honestly think it could be a story, or maybe a series of drabbles? This is all you kids get for now, though, lol. no fucks given (just kidding this will keep me up nights.)

o(O)o

Ignoring Natsu's whining about still being motion sick from beside him, Gray buried his hands in his pockets and let his eyes engage in their favorite past-time: roaming the curves of the blue-haired woman walking in front of him.

Him and Juvia had officially been together for over half a year, but his eyes still snagged on the same places they always had. The sway of her blue hair, now long enough to partly obscure the pinch of her waist and flare of her hips with each swish. The pretty, cute flush that lived on her cheeks as she listened attentively to Erza, who was chattering about a famous desert shop in the area. The way shadow and light shifted over the curve of her rear. And—forever his most favorite—the exposed skin of her legs. Long, toned, moon white...and fucking perfect.

Gray felt his cheeks heat, but couldn't find it in himself to drag his eyes away. The solidness and length of their relationship did absolutely nothing to diminish the novelty of her beauty, like he might once have feared it would. Instead, it hypnotized him more surely than ever. Noticing all the men drooling over her figure as they walked past, Gray was aware of the sting of possessiveness and annoyance which rose in his chest, but was also easily able to ignore it.

He was as comfortable as any guy with a stunning girlfriend could be in his own jealousy, these days. More shockingly, so was Juvia, a fact that was plain from the way she shot only perfunctory glares at the women eyeing him and whispering to each other as they passed.

As he stared at her back, his lips quirked ever so slightly. It had taken time, tears, and work—more work than he could ever have anticipated—to get to this point in their relationship. But work had never been more worth it.

His mind wandered to reminiscence. To where it had all started, when they had started, after the 100-Year Quest had ended and he'd finally—with Lucy, Levy, and Erza's help—managed to ask Juvia to be his girlfriend.

"Not just 'yours'," Levy had insisted, explaining that phrasing would confuse her. "Your girlfriend."

He'd actually fought them on it. Not really because he had a problem with commitment anymore (okay, it was a little embarrassing, but not too much) but because the words "girlfriend" and "boyfriend" felt ridiculous, considering everything they'd been through. How deeply he cared about her. For crying out loud, they'd tried to kill themselves for each other. He'd kill for her, die for her, and—most importantly—he would live for her. Beyond making his ears feel like they were going to melt off, the word "girlfriend" felt trite.

But when Lucy and Levy demanded to know if that meant he was going to propose, he'd balked. Actually, having the m-word shoved right up against his nose kind of made his soul flee his body. As ready as he was for a romantic relationship, he wanted to go through the actual experience of having one. Like, with all the steps involved. In order. He was at the point in his life that he wanted it more than anything.

More importantly, he wanted to give Juvia that experience. He was determined to do right by her.

With the girls' reality check, and the point they'd made that ambiguity might make Juvia jump to the wrong conclusion or even hurt her, they'd convinced him. He'd been committed to making his long-awaited confession as special for Juvia as possible, complete with saying any embarrassing words she wanted to hear.

Gray still hadn't felt worthy of the love she gave him. He still struggled to believe he was a man who could protect her. But after everything he'd been through during the 100-Year-Quest, seeing how much she'd missed him the whole time, and his talk with Juvina-sama, he'd understood it was completely unfair to ask Juvia to wait for him to decide he was worthy enough to love her openly. He also wasn't above admitting that Juvina-sama's suggestion that she wouldn't wait forever had disquieted some irrational part of him enough to make him antsy, impatient to make absolutely sure they were exclusive.

He'd been completely flustered throughout his confession, but known it had gone as right as it could. Lucy, Levy, and Erza—who thought they'd been slick, hiding in a nearby bush to watch him confess—had agreed. (Lucy had annoyed him to no end by teasing him over how "adorable" he'd been.)

And yet...Juvia's response hadn't been quite what Gray hoped. Lucy hadn't noticed it, but he had. He didn't know exactly when it had happened, but at some point, he'd learned to read the Water Mage like an open book. For how sincere a person she was—a trait he was all too familiar with—Juvia could also be surprising, even mysterious. As transient as water, with hidden depths you'd never know a thing about unless you were willing to dive beneath the surface.

When Gray confessed, he'd braced himself for joyous screaming. He'd planned to freeze a literal flood of tears before it could wash them both away. He'd been prepared to get a concussion from how hard she'd glomp him in the street. But while she had said yes, demurely accepted the roses, and hugged him plenty tight...her response had been subdued. In hindsight, he could see the pattern her reaction fit: the way her gaze had dropped to the street despite her happy flush, the hesitant, nervous gleam in her eyes, the limited verbal response.

The only times she'd ever acted that way had been when he actually reciprocated some of her affection. When he'd promised to give her a straight answer, after he defeated END. When he'd given her a one-armed hug and said he was glad her "body" was safe, after he'd saved her from that wood bastard.

Something had been wrong. But when the girls who'd spied on him only gushed afterwards, not seeming to have noticed anything off, he'd shrugged off his concerns, assuming it was his own lack of romantic literacy. He'd been nervous, but also really excited to learn.

But as their relationship officially began...it quickly became obvious that there was a problem, and that a one-sided approach to fixing it just wasn't going to cut it.

Juvia had always been prone to mood swings severe enough to make Gray's head spin, but as soon as they started dating, her mood seemed to sink. He'd try to ask her about it only for her to put on an obviously fake, cheery front and insist she was fine.

At first, he was sure it must be his fault. He'd had no idea what he was doing wrong. At that point, the guilt he felt for not taking Juvia's feelings seriously for so long, for abandoning her in Amefurashi Village, and for nearly letting her die in an attempt to save him had been taking a serious toll on him. The guilt had sometimes left him ragged. Every time she seemed down, he beat himself up and tried to do better. Talking, dates, spending time together (even when it meant ditching missions he really wanted to go on with the team), accepting her gifts and acting happy about them (no matter how much they creeped him out).

But the more he'd tried to make up for everything, the worse it seemed to get. He watched her frustration rise as he tried to be more openly affectionate, her denials that she was frustrated getting louder. More and more, she gave, but when he gave back, she'd look ready to explode or burst into tears.

What had made everything come to a head was the sex. A surprise in itself. For all the ways their relationship had suffered, sex had never been one of them. It'd started back in the cabin they shared in Amefurashi Village. From the first night they'd moved in together, Juvia had not-so-surprisingly tried to edge her way into Gray's bed constantly. She'd use excuses of cold weather, make puppy eyes, and sew nauseatingly pink coupley bed sheets to try to lure him (when, he still had no idea).

Meanwhile, he struggled more and more to pretend he didn't find (most of) her antics adorable. Not to mention incredibly tempting. Things escalated to where he'd feel his excitement rising towards the end of their daily training sessions, to the point his body became conditioned to react when he saw the damn sun set.

He also felt increasing dread at the notion of having to turn Juvia down—and for having to sneak out in the middle of every night to "take care" of the problem she always left him with (cold showers didn't exactly work for an Ice Wizard).

Finally, one night, she'd pouted and whined that she was sore from training and begged for a massage. Gray didn't know if it was the fact she was asking him for something instead of offering; the unbelievably cute, sparkly-eyed, hopeful glances she kept sneaking at him; or the fact he could tell she actually was sore from the way her face would pinch as she attempted to stretch provocatively in front of him, but his resolve had shattered.

Before he could think and without a word, he'd lifted his covers and held her gaze, not bothering to hide the dark promise in his eyes.

Her reaction had been priceless. He'd never forget it.

His acceptance seemed to knock the breath straight out of her. Her eyes had gone round as saucers, staring into his eyes like she couldn't believe what she was seeing. Her cheeks had darkened. She'd stood stunned for so long that he'd started to get nervous, wondering if she'd only been being playful all this time, not really meaning to come on to him or maybe not expecting him to ever accept. But just as he'd been trying to field the disappointment sinking his heart and trying to think of how to promise he wouldn't do anything she didn't want, she'd hesitantly approached the bed, trembling.

After giving her the massage she'd asked for, he'd rewarded her bravery three times over.

After that, for the very first time, the dynamic of their relationship shifted in one, important way—the one which would force him to finally confront his own heart:

In terms of their physical relationship, he became the more dominant one. In this one aspect of their shared life, he chased. Gray flustered Juvia. He hadn't been able to get enough. What had once been a relentless, one-sided pursuit (one where she had, admittedly, been gaining on him without his notice) became a dance which had addicted him before he knew it.

The notion of reciprocating her feelings had once had him running for the hills. So it had been a huge shock to learn just how much he liked it.

She was so obviously happy and disbelieving that first time he slipped her clothes off in the moonlit dark, cursing over her beauty. Utterly awestruck when he'd seen to her pleasure (twice, he still liked to remember proudly) before even considering his own. Sex was the first time he heard her speak in the first-person, the first time she said his name without adding "-sama" (since that battle in the rain, anyway.)

It was when he lost himself in her soft skin, her passion, and her pleasure that some part of him was able to accept the truth she'd had the grace to surrender to from the very beginning.

The shift in their sex life was also when he'd started to twig something wasn't right between them. After Alvarez was when he'd started it back up. His plan had been to wait until he was able to reciprocate her feelings verbally, like he'd promised, but almost losing her had broken him in a way some part of him would never truly recover from. Between that and his final, full acceptance of his own feelings, there'd been no restraining himself. He'd come onto her with all the subtlety of a freight train the second they were alone.

Even then, something hadn't been quite right. She hadn't been herself, quiet enough that—even as...compromised as his critical thinking skills had been, at the time, and even in his heightened emotional state—he'd noticed. He'd pulled back and asked if she was okay, but when her response had simply been to drag him back in for a kiss that made his knees weak, he'd taken it as a yes and matched her passion enthusiastically.

She kept staying quiet in bed. It bothered the hell out of him, and he badgered her about it more than once, but would ultimately let it go when she insisted she was fine. In his defense, there had been a lot of reasons she could've become subdued. They had just fought a war. They were all exhausted from fixing the town and working to build peace in Fiore.

But after the 100-Year Quest and after his confession, she got even weirder. He noticed it all the time, in every aspect of their relationship, but it was especially noticeable in bed, when they were so close to each other, both completely vulnerable.

When they'd cohabitated, he'd almost always been the one to start something. He'd enjoyed that. He'd even (hell, especially) enjoyed the way she'd flirt, pretend to be oblivious to his advances, pout and blush and make him impress her, coax him to the brink of losing his mind before finally caving to both of their desires. Those times where he went from prey to predator had balanced their entire relationship, satisfying both of them.

Gray wasn't some slimeball who needed sex, but he did need some balance in their dynamic. The private, physical side of their relationship was just where it'd happened to play out. It could've played out anywhere in their relationship, if they were off sex for a while for whatever reason.

But as soon as they became official, it became clear she'd fight tooth and nail to make sure that never happened.

She came onto him. Every. Single. Time. He'd been a little surprised, but happy enough. At first. But as he pushed her to talk to him harder and she denied louder, he'd started to guess that something was genuinely, really wrong.

She didn't speak in the first-person when they were intimate, any more. She didn't drop the "-sama." Even worse, he started to suspect she was seducing him even when she wasn't really in the mood. Almost like she felt like she had to.

It had been one such time when he finally flipped his shit. Even now, walking behind her and appreciating her curves, the memory made his mood falter a little.

He regretted how he'd handled things. It shamed him to remember how he'd all but shoved her off him and refused to do anything else with her until she was ready to tell him whatever the hell was going on inside that crazy, watery head of hers. It was an ultimatum. A cruelly-put one, at that. He hadn't realized just how hurt and angry he was until the words flew out of his mouth.

Juvia had opened up, alright.

In fact, she'd exploded.

They'd screamed at each other, horrible things Gray could hardly stand to repeat even in his own head. She'd demanded that he quit wasting both their time and leave her again, like they both knew he would. He'd asked how stupid she could be to think he'd do that, when he was obviously dedicated enough to put up with her psycho stalker gifts. She'd retorted that her "psycho stalker gifts" didn't seem to have any affect on his libido. He'd yelled that she was the one jumping his bones, ever since he'd asked her out. She'd said that was because she actually cared about his happiness, implying that was something he'd never understand.

She'd ended the black, ugly fight with four hoarse words that ripped his heart out of his chest: "This is over, Gray-sama!"

His apartment door had slammed behind her.

He'd been too shocked and devastated to do anything but watch her go, not even managing to stagger to the door and chase after her until she was long-gone. Black curse power had swirled across his skin as he pelted to the guild, growling in frustration when he didn't find her there. Then he'd run all the way to the female dorms at Fairy Hills only to be deterred by Erza, who met him at the gate. She hadn't known anything about his and Juvia's fight, but she'd been drawn by his yelling.

His older sister figure had knocked him out "for his own good."

The next afternoon, Gray had woken up in his own bed. Not bothering to see if he was dressed (it would turn out he wasn't) he'd booked straight to the guild only to be devastated by the news that Juvia had taken a long-term S-class quest just that morning, news which was delivered by a sympathetic Mira.

Sure that it was over, that he'd ruined everything, he'd drunk himself sick—then kept drinking, swinging fists at anyone and everyone who tried to console him until, finally, in the wee hours of the next morning, Gajeel managed to knock him out of it.

The hostility, Gray had expected. Gajeel was Juvia's best friend; of course he was angry to learn that Gray had done something to upset her so much, she'd left for a Quest that could take months or even years to finish without so much as a word to Gajeel or any of their other comrades.

What did surprise Gray was the understanding Gajeel eventually showed.

Gray got his ass knocked flat by the Iron Dragon Slayer. From his back on the ground, he started to spit out what happened. With each word, the larger man had visibly calmed. After enough had come out, he'd awkwardly helped Gray to his feet (his own, gruff brand of apology.) He'd helped Gray sober up, then he'd given him a pep talk.

He'd refused to explain his own guesses as to what was going on with Juvia, insisting "who knows what goes on in that water witch's head." But he'd also insisted that whatever was going on, it for damn sure wasn't what Gray thought, which was that he'd hurt her too badly for her to love him anymore.

"She's obsessed with you," the man had said, scowling in disgust. "She's always been obsessed with you. She's way too stubborn to let it go that easy. It's annoying."

By six AM, Gajeel Redfox—of all people—had talked Gray into chasing after the love of his life. He'd even used his Iron Magic to create a lockpick which got them into the archive room, where they'd found Mira's records...and Juvia's location.

He'd barely had the time to register the irony of her quest's location before he was gone, shooting Gajeel a gruff "thanks" over his shoulder and running home to pack.

It'd been raining when he finally walked into Amefurashi Village.

He hadn't consciously known where to start looking when he arrived, but his feet—following some combination of muscle memory and the fate he'd fought for so long—had carried him to the place where the word "home" had changed for him: the cabin he and Juvia had shared. Where they'd grown together. Taken care of each other.

Where he'd left her. Hurt her. Even if most of the reason to do so was because he wanted to protect her, he couldn't stop hating himself for that.

She was standing outside the place, drenched and shivering, when he got there. As if sensing his arrival as surely as he'd known where to find her, Juvia had turned to look at Gray with eyes that were glassy above flushed cheeks. She'd wavered on her feet.

As soon as she'd whispered his name, she'd toppled. Gray's bag had landed in a puddle with a splashy thunk. He'd lunged to catch her like his life depended on it.

Shouting her name had earned him no response, but pressing the back of his hand to her forehead had been enough to convince him that she had a seriously high fever.

Strangely, as worried as he'd been about her, he hadn't even thought to bring her back to Wendy or seek a nearer healer. In hindsight, he was sure that deep down, he'd realized it would do no good; she wasn't physically ill, but heartsick, just as he was. He'd felt lower than the mud gathering around his boots.

He'd been surprised to discover that he had to break into their old home, and rapidly deduced that Juvia hadn't been staying at their old cabin even though she'd been standing outside of it, both from that fact and the fact that none of her stuff was there.

As soon as he lay her in the bed which had once been his before becoming theirs, she'd begun shivering. For the first time in his life, Gray cursed that he was an Ice Wizard instead of a Fire Wizard.

He'd run outside, grabbed his bag, then come back in—only to curse again when he unclasped the bag only to discover that all its contents were soaked. Thinking quickly, he'd stripped his wet clothes, then hers. He'd climbed into bed with her.

"'M sorry, Gray-sama..." she'd slurred her sleep. "Juvia's so sorry...Juvia had to...I just had to..."

He'd shushed her, rubbing her arms to try to warm her up. "It's okay, Juvia. I know, my love. It's okay..."

He'd kept holding her and whispering soft comfort to her until she'd finally stopped shivering, at which point his frantic worry had abated enough that he could fully admit to himself how good it felt to have her in his arms, her skin against his. How warm she was. How perfectly she fit against him. How much he missed her. She was right there, as close as another person could ever be to him. Yet with how things had been between them lately and how lost she was to fever, he'd never felt further away.

Apparently, he'd fallen asleep at some point, because when he awoke, it was to the rising sun blazing at him from the center of the cabin window. Ignoring his body's reaction to waking up in the arms of the very naked, beautiful woman he happened to be in love with, Gray had instantly dropped his hand to Juvia's forehead, sighing in relief when it became clear her fever had reduced. She wasn't better, but she was getting there.

Quickly figuring out what needed done, he'd dropped a tender kiss to her warm forehead, murmuring a threat against her sweaty hairline: "You'd better not even think of running away again, crazy woman. We are going to talk when I get back."

Gray had dressed, glanced back, and left. He'd met up with he client—a rich and unfortunately good-looking asshole about Gray's age who was way too disappointed Juvia, herself, wasn't the one who'd shown up. Through gritted teeth, Gray informed the bastard it would be a couple days before he and his partner (he was sure to emphasize those words several times) would be able to begin investigating the dark guild threatening the area, as she'd fallen ill.

It annoyed him to no end that the creep seemed genuinely concerned about this, trying to insert himself, demand to see her, and attempting to coax Gray into revealing her location (Gray couldn't help the pleasure and hope which rose in his chest, when he learned she hadn't told this guy wherever it was she was staying; obviously, she'd had no interest in sharing that information.)

The client had thrown a rich boy tantrum when Gray refused to tell him anything, but ultimately let him go when Gray promised Juvia would be there in a couple days (not bothering to mention that he would absolutely be there, too.)

He'd gone to pick up medicine and food. He'd grabbed all the ingredients he could remember for something hearty, mild, and delicious she used to make him when they lived together, a chicken stew that tasted like something he could remember from childhood. Those ingredients, medicine, ginger tea...anything he could think of that might help her feel better, he purchased, barely noting price.

Juvia had been waiting on the porch wrapped only in a blanket when he returned, flushed with both fever and anger.

They'd both been pissed at each other. While Gray locked horns with Juvia's amorous creep of a client, she had apparently been discovered by the landlord who owned their old cabin and only barely managed to talk him out of his anger, ultimately having to pay double their old monthly rent to keep him from calling the authorities—all while wrapped only in a blanket.

A brief yelling match had ensued. It ended when Juvia began coughing rather violently, Gray dropping his groceries in the mud to run to her. Even as she insisted she was fine, he'd ushered her into the cabin, forcing her to sit before he went back out to grab the food he'd bought.

Her face had gone funny when he began grouchily unloading chicken, rice, broth, veggies, and herbs. When he (somewhat defensively) asked what the hell she was staring at, she'd haltingly asked if he'd bought all of that for her. Exasperated, he'd told her of course he had, she'd had him worried sick.

The groceries had been abandoned when she burst into tears.

It had taken several minutes of heart-wrenching sobs on Juvia's part and coaxing on Gray's for the conversation to actually begin.

During their ugly fight in his apartment, she'd exploded.

Here, in the lonely home they'd once shared, she imploded.

While the groceries thawed and dripped on the kitchen counter, Juvia sobbed the whole, messy, painful truth into his chest. She told him everything. She told him how, deep down, she'd always known she wasn't worthy of having her love reciprocated by him. It had been true from the moment they'd met, when she'd been part of Phantom Lord, but remained true no matter how long she'd been at Fairy Tail. That was how she'd put it: "I always knew I wasn't worthy of Gray-sama's love." Not only because of her past, but because of how annoying she was. How gloomy. How creepy and obnoxious.

Gray hadn't even had time to express his horror at the fact she thought those things before she'd been plowing on, her tears only getting thicker and her words only making his heart sink lower.

She said knowing she didn't deserve his love had turned to knowing she didn't deserve to love him at all, when she'd killed Keyes to free Gray's father from his undead life. But even though "Gray-sama had been wonderful enough to forgive Juvia," she'd continued to hate herself, deep down.

She told him that sharing a life in the cabin they were currently in had, for her, been the sweetest kind of torture. That she'd never been so happy—and never felt more undeserving. For the first time, she told him that she'd only had one lover before Gray, some piece of shit named "Bora" who'd never cared about her or her pleasure. Gray had been nothing like him, attentive, caring, and as invested in her pleasure as he was in his own. At first, feeling so cared for had been as overwhelming as it was amazing, but by the time Gray started to pull away from her for his mission, the overwhelmed feelings had slowly begun to fade, letting her forget everything but the happiness she felt with him.

Juvia told him that the day he abandoned her to infiltrate Avatar, everything which she'd started to believe could feel right began to feel wrong, and everything which had felt wrong began to feel right. She'd never felt she deserved to be loved by Gray the way she loved him. Being left by him had, in a horrible way, made her feel like the world was how it was supposed to be.

But it had also ripped her apart.

It had destroyed any confidence she'd begun to gain in herself.

She told him that she resented being abandoned. Resented not being told about his mission to infiltrate a Dark Guild, not just because of their relationship, but because she had once been in a Dark Guild, and could potentially have helped his and Erza's Mission. She'd not only felt betrayed on a personal level, but disrespected as a Mage with no small amount of skill and experience.

It was a side to the issue which he had, shameflly, never considered.

He was mortified when she'd finally let herself chastise him for this—especially when he'd tried to defend himself by bringing up details of his mission only to be instantly struck down and ripped apart by someone who was, in fact, very obviously more knowledgeable about the inner workings of Dark Guilds than either he or Erza ever had been. Hell, Juvia could probably have run the mission almost as well as Jellal had.

For the first time, he saw just how beneficial it would have been to have her on board, despite Erza urging him not to get her involved. He should've gone against her orders, asked forgiveness instead of permission. Over the course of that one conversation, it was clear that having her on board would have shortened the length of their mission by probably several months.

But worse than the benefits they'd missed out on, in infiltrating Avatar, worse than the fact that she resented him, was her admission that she hated herself for that resentment.

She'd apologized. So many times. Too many times to count. Each apology was another crack in Gray's heart. He'd tried to ask her to stop, but they'd just kept slipping out anyway. It was like she couldn't help it.

She'd told him that over time, as she got to know the other women in Fairy Tail—Lucy, Cana, and Levy—she'd realized just how unworthy she was of the care Gray held for even just his friends. She just hadn't been forced to confront her own lacking sense of self-worth...until he openly reciprocated her feelings.

She said that the second he confessed, part of her felt wrong. Like she'd donned someone else's skin—someone who was worth being loved by Gray. Her guilt, her knowledge that she wasn't worthy of him, her bitterness, her self-hatred...all of it had come rushing to the surface.

She told him that, as unworthy as she'd felt, she'd been too selfish to reject him. Too angry at the thought of him being with someone else. Her own selfishness made her feel even worse than before. She'd been determined to be worthy of him, and so she had sought to pay every ounce of love he gave her three times over. At least.

It hadn't made her feel any better. No matter how hard she tried to be sure to pay him back, every time Gray took her on a date or made love to her, it made her skin crawl, because she didn't deserve it. She didn't deserve his love, his affection, or even his attention. He deserved better, and she was nowhere close to deserving him. She never would be.

If there had been even one last, single sliver of a doubt as to how he felt about this woman, it died then and there. Nothing—not his own guilt, being screamed at, or being broken up with—nothing could hurt worse than being made aware of what a hard time she was having. Learning just how badly she'd been dissociating during all their most precious moments. How much pain she was in. How little she thought of herself. How deep her scars ran.

He'd have given anything to take her pain away. He'd have given anything to change it. Right then, he couldn't think of a single thing he wouldn't have done to make her see herself as he saw her: the energetic, caring, fierce Mage he'd come to know. The woman who always eclipsed everything else for just a second, the first time he saw her every day.

He'd wanted to tell her all that, and more. He wanted to apologize. He'd wanted to tell her how badly he missed her after he'd left her here, that this place had been home for him, too. He'd wanted to tell her how much she meant to him, that no day without her smile even felt real, but his voice had been stuck behind a lump of misery and all he'd been able to do, for a very long time, was lay in their bed and hold her while she cried the rest of it out. He wasn't too ashamed to admit he lost a couple tears in her hair, too.

Over the twilight of time it had taken for her sobs to turn hoarse, then to whimpers, then sniffles, guilt, emotional exhaustion, an anguish washed over Gray in their turn.

Until finally, he hardened all of those feelings into resolve.

"I'm really thankful that you're here. For always being beside me..."

Those were the words Gray had said to her before Alvarez, and he'd meant them. For years, Juvia had done nothing but be there for him. Even when he didn't want her there, she stayed right next to him, quietly piecing together his heart and his trust. It killed him that the woman who'd confronted him with her love, made him face down his own weakness, always thought of him, and helped him so much more than he could ever truly thank her for had been hiding so much of her own pain. He wished she would have told him any of this all the times he'd pushed and asked.

But he couldn't blame her for that. Maybe she hadn't opened up to him before then, but her mentions of her days in Phantom and of that shithead ex of hers had driven home, with stark clarity, a realization he wished he'd made a lot sooner: Juvia didn't know how to open up like Gray had tried to demand, because she hadn't grown up somewhere like Fairy Tail.

Unlike Gray and Natsu and the others, she hadn't been taught to bare her pain, hadn't always known there would be someone to listen to her, cry with her, be on her side. While Gray had been fought, teased, and accepted for exactly who he was (more often his whole self than not) Juvia had been abandoned by every single person in her life except Gajeel and those who'd wanted to use her for their own ends. Gray abandoning her had only confirmed what she'd been taught was inevitable.

But the Ice Mage wouldn't linger on that. He wouldn't give any more time to despair.

It was his turn now, he realized. His turn to stay beside her even when it was hard, and do the work. Now, he just had to figure out how. But while he'd been trying to do that, had been gathering his words, Juvia had recovered enough to speak once more.

She'd apologized again. She'd told him that she knew this was too much, that all of this was too much...that she was too much. For the times they'd shared, she thanked him quietly, eyes bright with yet more tears and refusing to meet his as she continued that she'd had to let Gray go because she wanted him to be happy, and she'd finally, finally realized she could never do that for him, not really. Then she'd tried to push him away, and as Gray had tightened his grip, he'd realized he didn't need to figure out what to do, what to say, or how to love her.

She'd been showing him all along.

After a deep breath, the words had come low, and easier than he'd thought. He told her she was right, all of this was a lot...but also that he was so, so happy she'd finally told him what was really going on. He'd been as gentle as possible when he told her he could see how difficult and scary it had been for her to open up about all this and that he was proud of how brave she'd been for doing so, but she'd started crying again anyway, so he'd had to carry on with a shakier, hoarser voice.

He'd apologized. For everything. For not taking her feelings seriously for so long, for not seeing her when she needed to be seen, for leaving her behind and hurting her so badly she'd gotten sick. He hadn't been dismissing her abilities as a Mage so much as he'd been trying to protect her, but that was no excuse. "High-handed and cruel" was a generous way to describe his behavior, and he finally saw that. He'd told her that if he could take it back, he would. But he couldn't. He could only promise to never, ever leave her like that again, and he was more than ready to make that promise. He had been for a long time, since well into the 1oo Years Quest. If she'd only give him another chance, he'd show her.

At this point, Juvia had obviously started to twig that this conversation wasn't going to go how she planned, with Gray accepting she was too burdensome and unworthy for him and leaving her alone like everyone else had left her, because she'd started kicking up a fuss, forcing him to hold her there again.

"Let Juvia go, Gray-sama!" she'd demanded shakily, sounding like she was barely clinging to her determination. But Gray had refused. He refused to let her go like this, not until she'd heard him out.

As brief as the ensuing argument had been, it was also one of the most frustrating conversations Gray had ever taken part in (and he'd fought Natsu on basically every cock-and-bull-ass plan he'd ever come up with.)

He'd tried desperately to insist that while Juvia could be creepy and he did find rain somewhat gloomy, she was not worthless or annoying or obnoxious. He'd tried to tell her that she did make him happy. He'd tried to tell her how he felt about her.

Juvia had not responded well.

A wall had slammed up in her eyes, the same blank one he'd met on that fateful, rainy day so long ago. As she'd kept denying, and he'd kept pushing, their voices had gotten louder. Eventually, Gray had realized it was raining outside the window next to their bed again, and that was the one thing that had forced him to take a step back from his own frustration. Lucky, because if he hadn't, he might have flown off the handle and ruined everything all over again.

Looking down at her, he'd forced himself to cool off and realized he was being unfair; he was asking her to take an entire journey in one leap, to unlearn a lifetime's-worth of lessons about her own worthlessness over the course of a single conversation. No one could do that. It was an unreasonable thing to ask.

And so, when he'd finally gathered his wits and perspective enough, he'd said, "You don't have to agree with me. You don't have to agree with my feelings for you. But you have to believe that they're real...and you have to at least consider my side."

Juvia's eyes had gone wide. As they regained their sparkle, he'd refused to break eye contact. Slowly, the rain had stopped, leaving them in the silent hut.

After what felt like years, she'd shakily whispered, "O-okay."

And Gray had known that they were finally, finally getting somewhere.

Quietly and slowly, with their hands intertwined between their chests and their foreheads pressed together, they'd pieced together a fragile plan. They would stay together and be as they had been, but from now on, they were both going to make a concerted effort to be honest and rebuild trust. Gray started by admitting that missing out on Quests with his team had really started to bum him out, and while this seemed to sadden Juvia at first, she admitted after some thought that in being with Gray, she hadn't been nurturing her own friendships with her friends like Gajeel and Meredy. Lucy had also asked for help training her in Water Magic, and Juvia had declined so far even though she was interested in having someone to teach.

Gray had encouraged all of this...and he'd encouraged her to visit Porlyusica, too, when they got home. The old lady was hardly a Mental Healer, but she'd hopefully be able to help them find someone who was, someone objective and removed from the situation who Juvia could talk to openly. One thing which had sunk in fully for Gray over the course of Juvia's heartrending speech was that it was going to take a lot of time, work, and love to get Juvia to a better place. There was no way the two of them could do it alone.

They'd talked and planned until their voices were hoarse...and then they'd not talked for even longer. Juvia once again dropped the "-sama." She let him come to her. She didn't just surrender herself to him the way she had when they had each other before in their cabin, she'd given him even more—in his arms, she'd bared a small and precious part of herself Gray had never even realized she hid from him.

Over the course of the month they spent in that cabin, he'd cherished everything she gave him more than most men could've in twice the amount of time. How they'd managed to deal with that Dark Guild months and months ahead of schedule, he would never understand, because his head had never been less in the game. Neither of them had been able keep their hands off each other for more than an hour when they were alone together.

Neither had been particularly disappointed when that crotchety old landlord refused to give them back any part of their months' rent. Instead, they'd stayed till June was up breaking the place in thoroughly.

"It's payback for him being a jackass to you!" Gray had once playfully defended against her neck, pinning her against the kitchen counter and grinning as she gigglingly scolded him.

He only prayed no one ever took a UV Lacrima to the inside of that place. They'd go blind. He'd taken her on the couch, over it, against the walls, on the counters and tables, and in more positions than he'd previously known existed in that bed. When they returned home, a bunch of people had pointed out that they both looked like they'd lost weight. Gray didn't doubt it, after all the—

"...seriously, none of you know what it's like, every time we travel...OI, STRIPPER, YOU MAYBE WANNA QUIT EYE-FUCKING YOUR GIRLFRIEND WHEN WE'RE IN PUBLIC, YOU GODDAMN PERVERT?!"

The absolute last voice Gray wanted to hear when he was thinking about such great, intimate things yanked him out of his reflections in the most unpleasant of ways. An expression crossed between a scowl and a grimace consumed his features.

"Gray-sama!?" Juvia spluttered, craning her neck to peer at them over her shoulder with wide eyes. She looked half-scolding, half...affected as her cheeks went rose red.

Gray felt his own face grow hot as he turned to glare furiously at the pink-haired, disgusted-and-disgusting-looking bane of his existence.

"Would you keep your voice down, Dragon Boy?! I was not 'eye-fucking' Juvia!" His cheeks burned hotter as an elderly woman passing by shot him a deeply disapproving look.

"The hell you weren't!" Natsu snapped, drawing even more attention. "I could see all your gross, perverted thoughts right there in those droopy eyes of yours!"

"ARGH! So what?!" Gray just wanted this fight to be over, and figured that sort of admitting to what he'd been doing was the quickest way to make that happen. "Can't a guy even look at his girlfriend without pink-haired, flame-brained losers getting involved?!"

"THE HELL YOU JUST CALL ME?!"

"OH, SO YOU'RE DEAF AS WELL AS BRAINLESS, NOW?!"

"THAT'S IT, I'VE HAD IT! YOU'RE DEAD, YOU ICY BAS—"

"That's enough."

Uncharacteristically subdued and uninvolved though Erza's command was, it was enough to have both Natsu and Gray cringing and sweating in fear almost instantly.

"A-aye!" they squeaked, then sighed in relief as she shot them one last glare and clanked away.

"Ah, it always goes this way." Happy folded his little blue sausage arms over his chest and tsked. "If only Gray had kept his perverted eyes on himself, we wouldn't even be talking about this."

"And just how the heck is one supposed to 'keep their eyes on themselves', huh?" Gray growled up at the floating Exceed.

"By not being you, apparently!" he cackled back, Natsu soon joining him in his obnoxious guffawing.

"Why, you—! Get back here, you little shit!" Gray made a random grab at the little creep only to curse as he missed his tail by about a centimeter.

Meanwhile, Juvia clasped her still-red cheeks with her hands and donned an all-too-familiar, starry-eyed expression. "Juvia does not mind at all if Gray-sama...covets Juvia in public! How Juvia adores Gray-sama's passion!"

Gray flinched as if he'd been whipped in the back. In a second flat, he was blushing again. "O-oi, Juvia—!" he started, scrambling to find a way to get her to calm down before she came onto him in public.

(Again.)

"However," she continued before he figured out how to distract her, turning to look at him with a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "If Gray-sama is going to covet Juvia on a public street, Juvia thinks he should at least wear clothes."

"Wha—?! CRAP!" Gray shouted as soon as he realized he'd stripped down to his boxers. "When did that happen!?"

Juvia wrinkled her nose cutely and giggled while he scrambled for his clothes. When he was finally yanking his jacket on, he shot her a playful glare only for his lips to quirk when she winked and sauntered after Erza.

That little...she'll get it later, he thought with a huff before shoving his hands in his pockets and strolling after her. He was well aware that he was full-on grinning, now, and didn't care in the slightest.

Little interactions like that...those were the fruits of all the hard work they—especially Juvia—had done when they got back from that S-Class mission. Gray had been prepared for it to be grueling and difficult, to fight. "Relationships take work" was a piece of advice he'd heard plenty, since he started asking for advice about how to love Juvia.

But what he'd never expected to find was that, while it was hard sometimes, it was work he was all too willing and capable of doing, because it was for her. For them. And what no one had told him was that, while loving someone meant their pain became yours, it also meant that their triumphs became yours, too.

Some days had been worse than others. Even though she'd been talking to a friend of Porlyusica's and made an impressive effort to spend more times with her friends, there were moments where Gray had felt like Juvia was back at square one. But he'd been there beside her, encouraging her every step of the way while she healed, learned that he wouldn't leave her again, learned that she was worth all of it. And slowly but surely, she'd healed.

That was what no one had told him: that every time she huffed at him to do his own laundry, teased him, sassed him into taking her on a real date, and even turned him down for sex, that he would feel such a huge rush of pride and triumph.

It was true that the road had been hard, but Gray had walked it with Juvia, and that had made every step worth it.

o(O)o

AN: Ah, sorry I don't have the time to edit this now and make it more cohesive! Also that I can't publish my next chapter of Chasing Tails just yet! I definitely, definitely will come back to edit this piece one day and make it better after I've done that. In the meantime, Happy Belated Gruvia Day!

P.S.: Fun Fact! I named this partly after one of my all-time favorite fics from a completely different fandom. The Hard Road by wthtonibelle, a Kacchako fic (from the My Hero Academia fandom) which is written in a similar way and has similar themes, only it's longer and better lol. check it out if you're so inclined!

#fairy tail #gruvia #gruvia fan fiction #gruvia fanfiction #fairy tail fanfiction #fairy tail fan fiction #gray fullbuster #juvia lockser

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kaddyssammlung · 17 days

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Vore – Analysis

“You have become the voice in my head”

I guess he means Sleep. But it's actually not that important who he means. To me my addictions often were the voices in my head. I mean you can kind of imagine the things they wanted from me.

It can also be seen as something positive. I often replay quotes or mantras in my head. I know I probably mentioned spiritual teachers such as Eckhart Tolle quite often. Having his teachings about the present moment in my head makes me more present.

“Only recourse we're left after death”

This does not sound very promising. Maybe he means that he can only be redeemed through death?

“Your viscera welcome me in, welcome me in”

Creepy! But also he often used images of being tangled in and caught. As if he was being caught in something like a spider's web and waiting for consumption. So I guess this just plays into this imagery.

“My life is torn, my bones, they bleed”

through a fractured existence. I know I have said this before but childhood trauma, dissociation and also the “no sense of self” BPD symptom make me really feel that line.

It's also interesting that he says that his bones bleed because they can't. But it creates an image of how deeply torn he is.

“My metaphors fall short in the end”

That's a cool one. Does he mean that he can't fully hide behind them? Or that he fails to convey certain things?

“Your flesh and bone welcome me in, welcome me in”

Seems like someone really likes him and that is just a strange way of saying this?! I guess he means Sleep with this...well actually with this whole song maybe.

“Are you in pain like I am?”

….and how it's a pain they know they don't understand. If you mean that type of pain that makes you want to end everything, then yes. I was in pain like that, Vessel.

“Will we remain stuck in the throat of Gods?”

I brought up before that I feel like Vessel knows the difference between a real God and something pretending to be God when it actually has bad intentions. So do we want to be stuck in their throat? I don't.

He probably means Sleep. It seems that he is done with it / them.

“Will the pain stop if we go deeper?”

It does. But it depends on what he means. I see this as hinting on spirituality and diving deeper into the present moment. Letting go of all of your thoughts and therefore the known and stepping into the unknown. Whenever you listen to spiritual teachers to you will notice that they use the expression "go deep" very often.

“So let's get swallowed whole”

I'm sorry for brining up addiction again. It makes me think about the times I was so desperate and exhausted that I just thought “I don't care if this is how it ends tonight....I'm done fighting.....it will never get better, so it might as well just end....I just want to give up"

But I did not!

You could also read this line in the same way as the one before. Diving deeper into yourself and spirituality and reconnect with something divine. Or you surrender to what is meaning that you have no feelings or thoughts attached to something. You only see what is.

I other giving up victim thinking (the it never gets better stuff) and realize that it really is all in your hands.

“I want to go where nobody else will ever go”

Makes me think about meditation and spirituality again. I had so many strange visions by now. I really makes you question everything – in a good way :)

It could also be hinting at Sleep and where it resides or where they met maybe?!

“Walls of flesh, so warm again”

Yeah...creepy. At least for me. Because it does not really sound something you would expect in a love song. It sounds creepy but also welcoming and also you get a feeling for it which is also kind of weird.

“We step into my suffering”

That's an interesting one. You think when he gets “swallowed whole” then his suffering is gone, right? Or is it maybe the cause of his suffering?

You can also see term suffering in a spiritual way. It was Buddah who said that he will teach you suffering but also the end of suffering. So I don't really know what to do with it.

“My only need, welcome me in, welcome me in”

It feel like he is begging. It seems like he really wants to be with someone or something. Probably Sleep.

“There is always something in the way I want to have you to myself for once Follow me between the jaws of fate So I can have you to myself for once”

This is weird because I don't understand why he could not have Sleep to himself. What is this being / entity?!

And also the way that he mentions jaws again. I feel I should write a jaw – collection or something like that.

Unconditional Surrender that's Vore for me. I should write about spirituality more...well in relation tho Sleep Token lyrics XD. I will do that.

youtube

#sleep token #sleep token lyrics #Youtube

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deeper-x-deeper · 2 months

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hey guys um. I don't usually do this kind of thing but I'm in a bit of a bind tonight and need money to get some dinner, and this is my blog with the highest follower count

more details under break for those who want to know more but um. tldr pls help a mentally ill trans guy eat a hot meal tonight, would only need like $20 usd to get delivery from a place that's also open super late https://ko-fi.com/stinkypossum

having a rly bad dissociative episode today and it hit while I was not home and I had intended to buy food but had to just. get home before panic set in. when I got home I realized all I had bought was cereal and I am so hungry and don't have the spoons for the meals I could make at home bc they require too much prep

I'm safe rn tho just. Really Hungry.

#extremely personal thoughts

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meraxes-of-new-albion · 3 months

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White person being annoyed with white people so if that's not your thing pls move on

but i was at hobby night at the warhammer store tonight, and one of the other regulars who's a white girl was there. she's nice, i like her fine, but sometimes she gets on a very black and white thinking mode and it just.... doesn't work with the way my brain works, because it's about things like "animal welfare" or "crime rates" or whatever and she's just regurgitating propaganda uncritically.

It was crime rates tonight, in regards to fucking public transport of all things.

and like. look. i'm a white girl from suburbia. (or close enough to girl to not matter, anyway.) i'll be the first to admit that there's some lingering biases in my brain about POC that i'm trying to unlearn, and probably some things that are stuck in there deeper than i realize. but also? i lived in birmingham AL with the only transportation i had being my own two goddamn feet for almost a year. i gave money to homeless folks whenever i had cash on me. i interacted with people off the street. sometimes they were weird! and i got a little uncomfortable!

but i was never in any danger.

once or twice i'd reach out to a friend discord and say "hey if i'm not home by x time, i'll be walking after dark, pls check in on me". because i'm also not stupid. but i was never threatened in any way.

so whenever someone else comes along, and goes "but stranger danger!" i think about that. about the guy who approached me and asked for cash, and i gave him what little i had, and the discussion we had about the ways the world had changed. how he addressed me with "we're part of the same community".

and so it really rankles me. when someone else very clearly hasn't dissociated "weird" from "bad". or "the south" from "bigoted racists". or "Black folks" from "danger". because i KNOW from firsthand experience that none of those things are true.

"but i have anxiety" bitch me too it's what makes me good at my job but like. there's a difference between "this person is acting weird and making me a little uncomfortable, i'm gonna message my friends and let them know to check in on me in a bit if I don't check in" (which i think is fair, all things considered) and "this person is making me uncomfortable and therefore I'm Going To Get Murdered Like Those True Crime Podcasts" which is just blatantly fearmongering.

something something white women need to learn how to sit with their discomfort literally ever

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk

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anhed-nia · 4 months

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I have way too much shit to do over the next few days starting tonight, so yesterday I decided to stay on the couch and have cramps and vegetate and watch all the lady movies I've been sleeping on.

EILEEN is pretty much what I expected, it's good but not great and a little pretentious, but the character study with Thomasin McKenzie is really cool. Or maybe I just thought that because she reminded me so much of a close friend of mine that I just decided the movie was about my friend and it was more fun that way.

THE ASSISTANT was also about what I expected, good but not great and sort of predictable--although I like how it plays like a thriller even though what's happening is sadly mundane and unsurprising. That approach works pretty well for this movie.

THE SOUVENIR is not a masterpiece but very strong, and disturbing. One critic called it a type of horror film. Years ago I was in a version of the awful relationship at the heart of this movie, and although that guy didn't have the excuse of [SPOILER REDACTED], all of his behavior and its effects on me were basically the same. It could have literally been him on the screen. My viewing experience was pretty tainted by unpleasant, shameful flashbacks and although I'm confident in saying it's a good movie, it's hard for me to imagine what it's like to watch it if you don't connect it directly to your own biography. I'll just never know what it's like as a pure work of art.

The funny thing about THE SOUVENIR is that it has this weird Rotten Tomatoes ratio were the audience score is really low, I wonder what that's about. Maybe it's just one of those things where general audiences are more resistant to being Very Bummed Out than film critics and aficionados. Or maybe it's that dumb thing where audiences find the choices of the victimized protagonist too hard to relate to because of the media they've been trained on. I often notice this in discussions about horror movies where the characters are motivated by fear, hysteria, dissociation, incomprehension, and other totally normal responses to extreme experience, and shallow unimaginative viewers go "UGH why did she do THAT, THAT'S not what I WOULD DO," and not only is it exactly what they would do in an incomprehensible situation, but their basis of comparison is not even "rational behavior"; their basis of comparison is the behavior you see in THE BOURNE IDENTITY or something where the hero does everything perfectly all the time and because certain viewers are strongly pursuaded by inhuman perfection, they think that's the standard everyone should be meeting, that's what they think is "realistic". It's stupid and ignorant and egotistical, and it's actually part of my secret criteria for who I can and cannot be friends with.

But anyway that's kind of what THE SOUVENIR PART II is about, which has high ratings for both critics and audience. It is a better movie, to some degree, but it was extra fascinating to me because as the protagonist uses her senior film school project to do a post mortem on her awful relationship, she is confronted with the fact that nobody quite gets what the story is about because none of her cast or crew have been in her shoes and they find the whole thing unconvincing. They don't get why the heroine subjects herself to abuse, or how to humanize the guy who seems like a total monster. You know, why is she so weak, he's "obviously" bad, what is the logic of this situation? All this black and white, judgmental thinking from people who are lucky enough not to have had to live through such a thing. The truth is that the abusive relationships are sort of absurdist in nature, they don't play by the normal rules, even the laws of time and space bend around this black hole you're being sucked into, which the heroine finds out as she's trying to put scenes in order. Strong stuff.

THE SOUVENIR PART II reminded me of this great rant Joe Bob Briggs has about "strong female protagonists" that basically amounts to the idea that characters should be whoever they need to be to serve the story. They're not exemplars of some ideal state of existence for us all to emulate--I mean unless they are, but that's under fairly specific conditions. His example is always Laurie Strode, who is typically upheld as a Strong Female Protagonist even though she doesn't become that thing until years down the road; in the meantime, she is a completely normal person with anxieties and phobias and insecurities and perfectly rational responses to Michael Myers. And that's what makes her so relatable, not her perfection, but her humanity.

[EDIT: Pardon me if the tone of this is a little alien to this blog. I don't even know if it definitely is, or if anyone cares, but I couldn't figure out where to put this post because I don't post much autobiographical material here anymore and I try to make the content of this blog reasonably appropriate for colleagues to see in both tone and content (like this feels both too intimate and too casual to me). But, I also try to keep all my movie information over here, so this is what I picked. I'm sure this doesn't bother anyone but me, but I have to justify my own rule-breaking to myself in order to feel better, so there.]

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maladaptive-jcb · 10 months

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Chapter 3: A Taste of Intrigue

Jamie x female!reader fanfic

(fluff, safe for under 18)

Click here for chapter 2 if you missed it.

Summary: Reader is an independent artist who lives on her own in a small town and meets Jamie, a musician, in an art studio where their budding relationship formed through shared interests of different forms of art.

Warning: There will be talks about trauma and PTSD from domestic abuse and dissociative episodes throughout the story.

“Shit, Jamie. This is a fancy place I thought it was just a small restaurant! I am not dressed for this!” I nervously adjust my denim jacket covering my casual white dress that has a little paint stain on it.

There's no way he actually brought me here. I've heard people talk amazing things about this place. Heck, celebrities were seen dining in this very restaurant. Even with the place blasted with air-conditioner, I still feel beads of sweat forming on my back and my palms where I'm discreetly trying to wipe off on my dress. I'm sure no one is looking at me but I can't help but to telepathically apologize to everyone for the way I look. I promise I can look better than this. I'm so sorry everyone, please give me a chance. Yet, everyone just keeps eating and talking to each other mindlessly.

“Stop it. You’re beautiful,” he touches my shoulder to reassure me. His fingers graze on my hand as he lowers his and sends my feet frozen in place. “You always are.”

Before I could say anything, he's already making his way to talk to the hostess. “Jamie Bower reservation, table for two?”

“Yes, sir. Right this way,” the beautiful hostess ushers us to the table, admiring the man in front of her. He really has a certain allure that draws people's attention. Whether it's the way he's dressed, his charisma or confidence, I can't quite figure it out. Either way, the hostess' admiration is evident to them and it only draws my interest of the man behind that dazzling smile.

As we settle into our seats at the table, my mind buzzes with curiosity. Lots of questions are running through my head. He has a fancy car, great fashion sense, and now he's interested in a small town and a simple painting class. Why would someone like him even bothered to join something like that?

“Jamie, can I… can I ask you something?” I lean in to whisper.

His face turns serious, “What is it?”

“Are you… are you… rich?” I whisper in a hushed tone.

He starts laughing and clutching his chest. “No, darling I’m not. My parents are though. I'm just lucky enough to get to treat a friend tonight.”

I laugh in ease. “Well, how sweet of you. Alright, next time you’re paying for my coffee instead.”

“No, I’m paying for dinner,” as he grabs his menu to his chest and gives that sickeningly sweet grin again.

"Well, if you insist," I return the smile to him.

Everything feels so much more at ease with our playful banter. Jamie really has a way of lightening up the mood. However, a sudden realization dawns upon me.

That cliché notion of a man paying for dinner makes me wonder if there's a romantic interest behind it. Although, Adrian did pay for our dinner one time after closing the bookstore and it was definitely not a date. I find myself overanalyzing the situation and questioning Jamie's intention behind this. Should I assume it's a date? What if I'm misinterpreting everything? I mean, would it be so bad if it is?

Before letting the excitement bubbling up to my chest, I shut it down immediately. I shouldn't get ahead of myself.

I face towards him again. He's tapping his fingers on his chin now, scanning the menu and still trying to decide what to get. He doesn't seem to notice my train of thoughts.

“Thanks for bringing me here. I didn’t expect our random café meet up would bring me to this place. It’s nice," breaking our moment of silence. I'm still finding myself looking around the beautiful restaurant once again. It has an overlooking view of the radiant sunset in the ocean.

“My pleasure,” his hand closer to mine on the table. His long slender fingers brush against mine. Every little touch from him sends an electric shock down my spine.

“You know, you were about to leave immediately. I was trying to find a way to make you stay,” he slowly sips on the wine poured for us. “I could really use a friend and I'd love to get to know you more," he adds on.

Friend. The word flutters in my chest as I wonder if it's just a friendly gesture or there's more to it beneath the surface. I quickly shake the thoughts away and casually pulls my hand to fix my hair and hoping he doesn't notice my nervous gesture.

The waiter finally comes to take our orders. My appetite goes for the ravioli while Jamie goes for the Chicken Parmigiana. Jamie raises his eyebrows excitingly at me while his hand rubbing on his stomach. I let out a small giggle.

"You know, I've heard so much about this restaurant. I've always wanted to try this place," I say, feeling more at ease as we continue our lighthearted banter.

"Oh, you're in for a treat," Jamie replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

____

“Okay, come here you need to try this,” he gets some of his chicken to his fork and lifts it up towards me.

“No, Jamie. Don’t be silly,” I shake my head and laughs at his demeanor.

“Ah, ah- I’m not gonna stop until you try it. Come on.” He’s still trying to get me to open my mouth.

“Jamie, I don’t think-“

“Oh come on, y/n. Come on, come on, come on-“ he pleads, lips pouting now.

“Alright! Alright! You silly bean,” I take a bite immediately. He smiles in triumph and waits for a reaction.

My eyes widen. He's right. It is good.

“Uh huh. What did I tell you??” his hand gesturing himself knowing he’s right.

“Woah, what did they put in this food??” I swallow after the burst of different flavors in my taste buds.

“I’m telling you! You need to trust me more a little, y/n.” His fork now playfully swinging at me.

The playful banter continues, but beneath the surface, curiosity still creeps into my head. Can I trust him? It's true that we spend time together in class and have shared some connections, but there's a part of him that remains a mystery.

In class, Jamie is often quiet and reserved. Yet, in our interactions outside of class, he's charming, attentive, and full of life. I can't help but wonder which version of him is the real one.

“What, you’re not gonna let me taste yours too?”

I jump a little.

“My…” and I notice his glances shifted from my eyes and towards my plate.

“MY FOOD,” I exclaim a little too loud. “Here if you want it soooo bad,” I tease him and pushes my plate a little closer to him. Jamie’s eyebrows furrow and squints at me.

“Not like that, darling.” He closes his eyes and opens his mouth.

I can feel my cheeks are getting warm again. A little grateful that his eyes are closed as my blood are rushing quickly towards my face. I pick up some of my ravioli on the fork on one hand and another under his chin to avoid making a mess.

“Oh yes, that’s amazing." His face making an exaggerated satisfied look. "Tastes about the same as the first five times I’ve had it here,” he adds, trying to contain his laughter this time.

“For goodness sake, Jamie!!!” my hand on my forehead now, covering myself in embarrassment.

He finally lets out a laugh. “Aw come on, y/n. You know I can’t help myself," he pulls my arm away from my face gently. His fingers feel warm on my bare skin under the cold air of the restaurant.

We spend the rest of the dinner sharing more stuff about each other. Jamie eventually opens up about the passion that he has in music. He looks so animated and full of joy from talking about songwriting, singing, playing the guitar to playing the piano. He even talks about a few music he puts out with his old band which was basically his younger brother, Sam and a few other friends.

"I'd love for you to listen to my stuff whenever you get the chance to," still talking in excitement. I nod in agreement.

He reels me in even deeper into who he is. Jamie's artistic heart runs deep, and it's not limited to just painting. His passion for music is evident in the way his face lights up and his whole demeanor changes when he describes it. It's like a different side of him emerges, in a good way. As much as he likes painting, he still feels like he has to constantly work to be good whereas with music, Jamie seems to have a natural talent that comes effortlessly.

He's not just a quiet guy that I thought I knew. He's so multifaceted with depths that I'm only starting to discover and I'm excited for it.

After we continue the night with more funny stories from class, we finally realize how late it is. Time really does fly when you're having a good time.

_____

Chapter 4

Woo! You're finally getting to know Jamie a little better after wondering about him for a while. How will the dinner end for you guys? Can this friendship turn into something more or is one of you guys still aren't ready for that? What do you think? Let me know :)

#jamie bower fanfic #jamie x reader #jamie bower x reader #jamie campbell x reader #jamie x female reader #jcb #jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #vecna #jamie x y/n #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x y/n #jamie bower x female reader #jamie campbell bower x female reader #fanfic fluff #romance #artist #musician #jamie campbell bower x reader fluff

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