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damonsvftie · 4 years

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𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐨𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜✨

HARRY POTTER MASTERLIST

MEGA MASTERLIST

Summary: it’s that time of the year where everyone has been pulled under the mistletoe but what happens when your the only one who hasn’t?

Note: h2gkmo I love this Sm also it’s 3.8K WORDS

Warnings: none I believe apart from kissing

September, October and November, has already flew by so quickly as if it were a blur and I can’t seem to comprehend that its currently December.

Not that I dislike this certain month but it’s just the whole ‘mistletoe’ thing that I’m not quite fond of. Last week, some boy from Slytherin managed to get a girl he liked from Hufflepuff under the mistletoe, and let’s just say, the tension was absolutely incredulous.

Being a Hufflepuff, she kindly made up an excuse and hurried out of the the great hall. If that were me, I would probably shove my plate full of food down their pants. I mean the audacity though?

It’s that time of year again where Hogwarts is practically covered in a blanket of snow and every single student walks down the corridor with a soft knitted sweater hugging their bodies tightly to stop them from catching a cold. Well mostly everyone, since Malfoy wears very extra stuff during this season.

The last day, I saw Harry snogging Cho Chang under the plant. Okay maybe it wasn’t snogging, but they still kissed! And Hermione had told me all about some oaf from RavenClaw who tried to do the same to her but it didn’t really work out since she smacked him across the face with a heavy book.

—

“I’m so glad no ones tried that on me yet,” I mumbled le as I tucked into a plate full of food.”it’s absolutely ridiculous! I mean the audacity they have to think I’d want to kiss them. I have to puke,” complained Hermione, her facing saying it all. From the corner of my eye, I saw Ron Weasley gulping hard as he tugged at his collar. “You know.. sometimes both of you are very scary,” making me roll my eyes at him.

“It’s not even that bad, it’s just a kiss,”. The way Harry blatantly blurted that out as if it’s the tiniest thing in the world while he drummed his fingers on the table. “You can’t chat! I saw you snogging Cho Chang a day ago,” I argued. Harry’s cheeks were beginning to flush a shade of crimson as he swiftly diverted the attention onto me again.

“And? At least it was Cho and not someone like Pansy Parkinson, besides even Lavenders after Ron,” he mumbled looking annoyed. “Bloody hell I almost forgot! She can’t seem to stay away from me. She’s like a leech,” he complained, his lips curving into a frown.

Hermione shut her book and put it down. “Y/n, hasn’t anyone tried to get you under the mistletoe yet?” Her lips curving into a small smile, preventing me from shoving a forkful of food down my throat, my hand in mid air. “Uh- no,” my cheeks slightly blushed in embarrassment . For some reason my response made Ron giggle to himself.

Irritated, I smacked him behind his head causing him to yelp. “Ow! What was that for?” His brows furrowing as he rubbed the spot I had hit him in. “You dare laugh at me Ronald Weasley and I won’t hesitate to curse you!”

“Both of you please! I’m trying to finish this book off,” Hermione’s facial expressions exasperate as her eyes bore deep into our souls, intimidating us until we both shut up. Huffing under my breathe I continued to pick at my food until someone spoke once again.

“Hey! Give me my book back!”. To my surprise, Draco Malfoy stood towering over Hermione, his book in her hands as he held it high. Her attempts to try and grab it back were failing as she jumped high on the spot. “Malfoy give her book back,” spoke Harry through gritted teeth. “How about no? Besides Potter, this is between me and her so stay out of it,” he sneered.

“Come on Malfoy, stop being such a git,” defended Ron. Whatever the boys had said didn’t really matter to him because of course it went through one ear and out the other. “Oi! Give. Her. Book. Back,” my nostrils flaring as I folded my arms against my chest.

Unexpectedly, he started making owl noises just like the day he was attacked by Buckbeak, slowly striding towards me as his eyes darted up and down at my figure, supposedly ‘checking me out’. “why... what are you going to do y/l/n?” His face inches away from mine. I felt his cool,minty breathe fanning against my face causing my eyes to flutter rapidly in intimidation. Everyone in the great hall had fixed their attention onto the commotion we were causing, making owl noises every time one of us firedback. “Gone silent now have you?” The tone in his voice mocking as he took a step back and swiftly turned on his heels.

I don’t know what I was thinking, but I pulled him back towards me, one of my hands cupping his face as my lips pressed against his instantly. My other hand, smoothly grabbed the book out of his palms, shoving him back once I got what I wanted. “You were saying?” My voice sarcastic as he stared at me, mouth hung slightly open In awe.

Tossing the book back to Hermione, we all sat back down, the golden trio gasping under their breaths. “Did you just KISS Malfoy?” Rons voice exaggerated as his eyes shot wide open. “Yes- Yes I did,”

—

As we walked the hogwarts grounds, Harry and Ron didn’t stop annoying me about Draco. “So let me get this right, you kissed Malfoy to get mione’s book back? Blimey you have some guts don’t you?” A giggle trailed behind his irrelevant question.

I was down right agitated. I paused in the middle of no where, my lips pursing into a line. “I don’t know why both of you think it’s so funny and or hard to believe I kissed him? It’s not like I like him or something!” My voice slightly laced with anger as I strided off into the other direction, ditching the trio.

I could heard Hermione calling after me but it was too late. I was gone. If I were being realistic, I didn’t know where I was headed to as I entered hogwarts, twisting and turning through the dingy,dark corridors until I bumped into something rock hard, resulting in me too lose my balance and collapse.

“Look where your going,” I groaned as I sat up on the cold floor. “You bumped into me, not the other way round,”. It couldn’t be. I recognised that same bitter and unpleasant voice. My eyes trailed up to the figure that looked upon me from down below as I whimpered underneath him in pain.

It was Malfoy.

He stuck his hand out in offer for me too take it but of course I didn’t. Pushing his hand out of the way, I scrambled to my feet my teeth gritting. “Why are you ALWAYS in my way?!” I yelled, although I was lucky enough that the corridors were deserted.

“Me in your way? YOUR the one who keeps getting in MY way! Don’t get too ahead of your self y/l/n!” He firedback immediately, his face scrunched up.

My hands found their way to his collar, fisting at the material, pulling him close until our noses were almost touching. “Listen here Malfoy, stay. Out. Of. My. Way,” I protested my breathing heavy.

His serious face turned looser as a small smirk spread across his face. His hands travelled up my visage, his thumb lightly grazing my lip, tugging it down, the flesh of my lips revealing.

What was he doing?

My breathing hitched, while my heart did a flip in my chest. My grip on his collar slackened as my hands fell by my side before I walked right past him.

—

I should have known better. The more I added fuel to his fire, the more frustrating he was going to become. It was slowly starting to become a very common thing for the two of us to have an argument with each other, while everyone just rolled their eyes at us, since it was starting to get out of hand and become a regular thing.

Something inside me told me that he thoroughly enjoyed bickering with me even when I had at least tried to be civil with him.

“I just wanted say.. maybe we should be civil,” my words sincere as a half grin crept up across his face. “You want US to be civil? Why.. you think I’m going to stop?” He taunted as his smile dropped, his face serious than ever. “Yes- you know why? Because I’m mature unlike you. If I’m honest I don’t understand what pleasure you find in fighting me all the time,” my eyes turning a darker shade as I clenched my fists by my side.

His facial features turned soft almost as if it were putty as I finished my sentence with a sigh. His body instantly loosened up as he took a few steps away from me. “Your right. I’ll leave you alone-“ he muttered before disappearing in the dark.

Was I seeing things or did Draco actually agree with me for once? Was he actually going to put an end to his daily dose of torture?

—

“Did he actually offer to stop and leave you alone?” The confused looks on their faces. “Yep... but it’s quite unbelievable,” the look on my face twisting the more I thought about it. “Wait Wait Wait! Let me get this right... Malfoy’s going to leave you alone for the rest of your life? Bloody hell thats fabulous!” Ron’s lips transitioning into a wide grin as he took a sip out of his cup.

“Why are you so happy? He said he’d leave ME alone not YOU,” I answered back , trying to put Ron off, making his face droop. Within seconds I decided to change the topic so I didn’t have to fight Weasley.

“Anyways- So- hows your defence against the dark arts thing going?” I questioned Harry as he swallowed his food. “Well- we haven’t come up with a proper name for it but we think it should be named ‘Dumbledores army’ and I guess it’s going alright,” he sighed right after causing me to raise a brow. “Somethings off- what’s wrong Harry?” My voice gentle as I glanced at the other two.

“Harry’s worried someone’s going to bail out on us to Umbridge,” the fearful expression on hermiones face explaining it all. Did I mention that Dolores Umbridge was claimed to be the headmistress of the school? We were all lucky enough that she hadn’t created any sort of ridiculous rule in which we were no longer able to talk to our friends.

Everyone apart from a bunch of slytherins, who were named the ‘inquisitorial squad’, including that evil little cockroach Malfoy, loathed her. The trio had managed to gain access to the room of requirements in which they all hosted sessions where they practised spells such as how to unleash a patronus charm.

“Y/n why don’t you join? The more the merrier besides we need to prepare incase anything happens,” the tone in hermiones voice soft. “Guys.. I don’t know.. what if you know.. Umbridge finds out?” I asked wearily, fingers drumming the table.

Disappointment smeared across their faces. I couldn’t disappointment my friends like that. “You know what? Fine, I’m in!” I blurted as their mundane facial expressions changed into goofy smiles and wrinkled eyes.

—

“Expecto Patronum!” The tip of my wand unleashed a faint sort of white vapour which slowly transitioned into a p/n. “Blood hell y/n! You got that right on the first try,” remarked Ron as he stared up at my patronus in awe.

Suddenly, the chandelier started to swing and the floor beneath us was shaking under our feet. Everyone huddled together as it stopped. Then another loud bang came from the door as it crumbled, leaving a tiny cracked hole in which we heard Umbridges voice.

With one last swish and flick of her wand, she blasted down the door completely, walking in infuriated with the inquisitorial squad following behind her. Draco Malfoy stood on the side, his hand gripping Cho Chang’s arm tightly as she hung her head in shame. She had betrayed us.

My eyes met Malfoy’s as I lowered my wand. Each member of the squad practically forced us all the way into umbridges office however Malfoy shoved Cho to the side and came headed in my direction. “Do as I say,” he muttered under his breathe, his hand gripping my wrist causing me too flinch.

“What- What are you doing?” I whispered frantically. “Don’t question me y/l/n,” he replied, his lips barley moving as Umbridge yelled at us all.

One by one, each army member was escorted by a slytherin however Malfoy waited for everyone to leave. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he mumbled, peering out the door making sure the coast was clear. His hand slowly slid down my wrist, intertwining his fingers with mine.

I didn’t dare speak of it, besides I felt safe with him for some reason as if I were able to trust him. Quickly, we ran down the corridors hand in hand making sure no one spot us. “Wait stop,” I panted as i breathed heavily, leaning against the wall. He stopped for a moment, his hand on his hip as he patiently waited for me too regain enough energy to walk back to my dorm. “Let me walk you back to your dorm,” he insisted.

—

“Goodnight,” he mumbled before turning to walk away. “Draco Wait-,” I called for him reluctantly as i leaned against the door of my dorm room. He turned to face me once again, one of his brows raised in confusion. “Why did you help me? I mean you could have just turned me in like the others,” I questioned hesitantly. He seemed to have straightened his posture as he looked down at the floor before glancing at my visage. “Don’t question it y/l/n,”

—

“What? That’s not possible.. how did Malfoy not turn you in?” Harry exclaimed, his face distorted as he gave the type of look when something was brutally unfair. “I bet he likes you, I remember when he came back and made up an excuse about his whereabouts,” chimed Hermione plainly as she stuck her nose into her book, causing me too flush red.

Running towards us was Fred and George Weasley as they explained what Umbridge was currently doing. “You lot might want to check this out,” their voices weary as they glanced one another. Within seconds we all made our way outside the great hall where the rock solid walls were covered with every stupid law she’d had every created. A new one of her ridiculous educational Decrees was being hung by Filch as he tried balancing on the highest step of the ladder.

My eyes trailed from above all the way down, now examining Draco’s face as he looked up, a smirk painted across his face, after all he was part of Umbridge’s clan. I don’t know why but he looked immensely alluring and it really bothered me. Why did he look so perfect? I didn’t like him did I? No of course I didn’t What type of dumb question was that?

—

Tonight me and the army decided to sneak out after curfew and meet up in the Gryffindor common room. I slipped on my robe as I softly shut the door behind me, trying to make sure it didn’t creak. I tiptoed down the corridors because we were all aware that the inquisitorial squad members were lurking around, keeping an eye on us. I couldn’t risk using a lumos spell because I knew that if I did someone might see the light at the tip of my wand easily so I attempted to guide myself in the dark, sticking my hand out incase I bumped into anything.

Unexpectedly, I tripped over my own feet causing me to fall frontwards, straight into somebody’s arms, my hands flung around their neck, clinging onto them for dear life. We stayed like that for a good few seconds, my breathing hitching as my chin laid propped up on the mystery persons shoulder.

Pulling away from me the person chanted a ‘lumos’ spell, holding their wand between our faces. “Draco?” I shrieked, my face distorted since I knew I had been caught. “What are you doing after curfew?” He interrogated. “Nothing I Uh- I was trying to sneak out to get some fresh air,” I lied, the tone in my voice making me sound sheepish. “Don’t lie to me y/l/n you were going to another one of those meetings, weren’t you?” He snarled, his grip on his wand becoming tighter. “Uh.. okay fine! I am, but please don’t tell on me I beg you,” I pleaded my lips curving into a frown.

His facial expressions changed and became softer than ever, his irresistible,grey eyes glimmering from the tiny source of light as he parted his plump lips to say something. “Go,” he whispered lowly. “Thanks Draco,” I muttered. For some reason my feet were glued too the floor as if they weren’t willing to move. I had the sudden urge to kiss him but I held back until he himself leaned a little closer, his lip ghosting mine before I took steps backwards and disappeared into the darkness.

Was I developing some sort of feelings for him? All he did was save me from landing into trouble twice and actually leave me alone for once. Did he feel the same way?

I had to at least thank him for how humble he was being over the past month so that same week I went to Hogsmeade and bought him a ring with a snake wrapped around it. After all his help, this was the least I could do to repay him.

It was Christmas Eve today and I told one of the sweet slytherins (who I knew was trustworthy) to go and put this perfectly tiny box wrapped up in black paper under the tree in the Slytherin common room.

—

Today was Christmas Day and I ran down the stairs to my common room early in the morning to open up my gifts. Harry hurled me a handful of presents as I struggled to carry them all. “Merry Christmas y/n!” They sung in unison as I started to unwrap them all. Ron had given me a perfectly knitted sweater with the first letter of my name on it. Hermione had bought me a stack of muggle books that had very interesting covers and Harry had bought me a box of assorted sweets from honey dukes because he knew I had a sweet tooth.

“Thanks guys I really appreciate it,” I gave them a warm smile. “Y/n I uh- there’s another gift addressed to you,” Ron fiddled with the present in his hand, taking a close look at it. “It’s not addressed from anyone though,”. He tossed me the dark green wrapped gift as I glanced at them unsure. My hands began unraveling the box taking a peek on the inside. To my surprise, there was a immaculately beautiful necklace with a dark green gem in a pendant. Holding the necklace between my fingers I gave a glance at it before putting it around my neck, trying not to overthink it.

—

“I wonder who gave you that?” Questioned Ginny as she squinted her eyes. Walking into the great hall was a certain blonde haired boy with his annoying group of posse following behind him like a bunch of lost puppies. He looked incredibly charming as he wore a dark green sweater with a black scarf wrapped around his neck as he tugged at it too loosen it a bit. I could just about see the ring that he wore around his finger.

Something about the way he accepted my gift made me smile to myself. “Bloody hell y/n are you blushing?” Joked Ron as I pursed my lips. “Totally not,” i responded as I bit the inside flesh of my cheek too stop myself from grinning.

From across the hall my eyes met his and I felt a unknown spark run through my body. A toothy smile crawled across his face causing me too smile back at him. Oh god I thought to myself, I couldn’t do this. I hid my face in my hands embarrassed as my friends laughed at me. “Y/n are you sure you don’t like Malfoy?” Teased Fred Weasley. “Yep it’s confirmed she does,” added George. “No I don’t,” I mumbled as my voice was muffled by my hands.

“If you’ll excuse me I have somewhere to go,” I muttered before leaving the table in embarrassment. I could see Blaise Zabini and Goyle patting Draco on the back in what seemed like encouragement as he got up. Was he going to follow me?

I strided down the corridors when I saw him calling after me. I swung my head around as I continued walking and he disappeared. Walking backwards, I tried looking for him when something bumped into me from the front. “Where do you think your going?”. I recognised that same tune that use to annoy the hell out of me.

“Draco? Where did you come from? You were right behind me,” I asked curious, trying to change the subject. “Took a shorter route,” he explained. The gap between the two of us was at the point of closing.

“You uh- wore the necklace I gave you,” his cheeks flushing slightly as his rough demeanour vanished. “You were the one who gave this? Why?” My voice cracking at the end. “And you gave me this ring- why?”. He was trying to use my own words against me as I giggled to myself. “It’s more of a thank you gift than you know-,” I elaborated as I crossed my arms.

“So why did you gift me this necklace?” The curiosity in my voice making him pause for a good second. “Let me guess.. don’t question it? That’s what your going to say right?” I giggled to myself. His face slowly dropped his lips parting as he looked above the two of us. “The mistletoe,” he choked. Above our heads, was a magically growing mistletoe that rained glitter.

He scratched the back of his head as i hung my head. “You don’t have too if you don’t want-,” I quickly cut him off by placing my lips against his, savouring the sweet flavour. Initially he was shocked, his eyes wide open until his lips moved in sync with mine, his eyes fluttering closed as he cupped my visage, my body flushed against his.

Pulling away, his eyes fluttered back open, his thumb drawing circles on my cheek as he pulled me back in one last time,his plump lips on mine before pulling back making me admire his enticing face. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered as my hands wrapped around his neck pulling him in for the tightest hug ever.

—

Taglist: @summer-writes @gryffindors-prefect @harry-pottery-barn @adderallanimal @voldygonemoldy @reemusluupin @chaotic-fae-queen if you want to be added or removed lemme know

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franniebanana · 3 years

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CQL Rewatch - Ep 21

Note: I will be critical of Jiang Cheng in these posts. If you can’t handle that, please feel free to scroll on.

I really like this hug. I mean, if you've been reading these from the beginning, you know how much I love wangxian, but I'm really glad that Wei Ying's first actual hug after returning from the Burial Mounds is with Jiang Yanli. I'm not counting the hug with Jiang Cheng, because Wei Ying didn't hug him back. That hug was thrust upon him and he did not reciprocate. This reunion is very sweet, and tear-filled, and if I hadn't been up since 3 am, I might be feeling enough to shed a tear, myself. That being said, it's hilarious how they keep showing Jiang Cheng in the middle, looking awkward as he tries to balance joy and sadness. I get what the director had in mind, but it just looks weird lol.

But this part is also super sad, because Wei Ying again makes a promise he can't keep: that the three of them will be together forever. Now, I realize that if you hadn't read the novel or weren't familiar with the story, you should already know from the first two episodes that things do not turn out well for the three of them. However, if you're like me and have the memory of a goldfish, you probably didn't realize who everyone was in the first two episodes and even if you did, you've already forgotten long ago that Jiang Cheng was pissy and angry around Wei Wuxian and that Wei Wuxian's inner monologue reveals to us that JIang Yanli is dead. All that being said, his line about staying together forever hits a lot differently when you're very aware of how the story turns out, because Jiang Yanli dies, Jiang Cheng grows to hate Wei Wuxian more and more every day, and Wei Wuxian, of course, defects to save the Wens from slaughter. I think "let's stay together forever" is something you say and mean, but something that you know can't ever truly be. I think Jiang Yanli is old and wise enough to know that she will eventually marry and leave Lotus Pier, even though she will resist it for a while. The rest is uncertain, but I think at this point, Wei Wuxian really does believe and want to stay with the Yunmeng siblings and to stay at Jiang Cheng's side as he leads the Yunmeng Jiang Sect.

I will never not be heartbroken by this scene--even knowing how everything turns out--by how Lan Wangji looks at Wei Wuxian, how if things had been different in Yiling, he would have gone into that room and greeted him, how Wei Wuxian would have smiled at him and beckoned him inside, how they would have sat and Wei Wuxian would have talked Lan Wangji's ear off, like old friends. It's just so upsetting to me, and I can't ever shake that feeling in the pit of my stomach. I know what happens, but these two episodes, until they reconcile, really get to me. It's a horrible feeling when you want to help someone, but they don't see it as helping, and they only get upset with you. I deal with that on an almost daily basis, and I wouldn't wish that feeling on anyone. I really identify with Lan Wangji here, and I think that's why I get such a visceral reaction to seeing him like this.

I don't know if I've said this, but Lan Wangji is my favorite character in CQL and in every adaptation of this story. He is kind of my perfect character--he checks off all the boxes: one-sided love, pining, standing by the main character no matter what, practically abandoning his own family for the person he loves. I love that he has an almost child-like innocence, but he's still very wise; he's smart; he's strong; he has a strict moral code and he sticks to it without fail, even if it means going against his friends and family; he's a loner, but he loves deeply. When I first started watching the donghua and reading the novel, I liked Wei Wuxian the best, and he's still my second favorite character, but Lan Wangji has stolen my heart.

Of course, Wei Wuxian goes to this awkward dinner party, after spending three months around ghosts (and then killing a shit-ton of Wen soldiers), and all he can think about is that empty seat behind him, the one where Lan Wangji should be sitting. It's interesting how the Yunmeng siblings each react: Jiang Yanli starts to become concerned and commits it to memory. She's probably wondering why Lan Wangji isn't there, and then seeing how Wei Wuxian wistfully stares at the empty seat, she finds it even more unsettling. Jiang Cheng just seems embarrassed by Wei Wuxian here and his motivation is to get Wei Wuxian back on track so he doesn't make fools of the Yunmeng Jiang Sect in front of the other leaders. He obviously knows what happened between Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji, and I don't think he's bothered by it at all. He doesn't seem to care whether they're friends or not, and I'd say that even at this point, he'd prefer if Lan Wangji stayed out of Wei Wuxian's life altogether. He knows how close they were, and I think he also knows that Wei Wuxian would choose Lan Wangji over him if given that ultimatum. With Lan Wangji out of the picture, Jiang Cheng gets to maintain more control over Wei Wuxian than he otherwise would. Even later on at Lotus Pier, he wants Wei Wuxian around, helping him, being his right-hand man. He doesn't want him wandering around the city or galavanting off with other cultivators. Granted Wei Wuxian was drinking at the time, but I don't think that invalidates my point that Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to stay in line and stay at his side where he can control him. You know, because he sees the relationship (as Wei Wuxian suggested) as the same as their two fathers: where Wei Wuxian is in a subservient role to Jiang Cheng. Mind you, that's different from seeing him as a brother, and I think, while there's some of that mixed into his other feelings, it's a very small portion.

No screenshot, but the following scene, after Wei Wuxian leaves the dinner party, Jiang Cheng follows him out. And even here, he asks what's wrong--asks if he's upset because of Lan Wangji--but then scoffs at how that could really be what's bothering him. He says something like, "Why did you come here just to be disliked by him?" I think while he gets that they have a close bond, he doesn't really understand the depth of the relationship. He's jealous of Lan Wangji, but doesn't fully understand why. Ultimately, I think Jiang Cheng, because of his parents and the way he was raised, really doesn't understand what it's like to have a good relationship with anyone. And this ignorance isn't his fault--he's a product of his parents and surroundings, and no one, including himself, has ever tried to fix this. So, without being able to really understand how relationships work, he scoffs at how Wei Wuxian could still be upset over what happened with Lan Wangji. Jiang Cheng essentially gave Wei Wuxian what he wanted in that moment, which was unconditional support to carry out his revenge, and yet Wei Wuxian is hung up on Lan Wangji not being supportive there, and in fact being in opposition to him. Jiang Cheng doesn't even really have friends, so he thinks Wei Wuxian should just get over Lan Wangji and move on with his life, but it's not that simple. Lan Wangji isn't just an acquaintance, he's not just someone that Wei Wuxian partnered up with to fight a battle or carry out a mission--he's a soulmate, a kindred spirit (if you want to go down a less romantic route).

I rarely can say anything bad about Jiang Yanli (except how she's almost always making soup), and here's another example: Chenqing. She's so far the only one who supports Wei Wuxian having a first class spiritual tool. She immediately shows interest in the flute, even encourages him to give it a name. Lan Wangji immediately sees the flute as something bad, while she's completely supportive. And this is really what Wei Wuxian needs right now, and I love her for being there. She's also about the only person he will genuinely smile around. He gives everyone else forced or fake smiles, but not Yanli. At this moment, I think he only wants to be with her, and I can't really blame him when everyone else is either opposing him or just wanting something out of him. She really is coming from a place of sympathy and comfort that's different from how the others are handling things. Lan Wangji wants to help, yes, but he tries to force it.

Imagine being in this room, listening to Jin Zixun (I'm not even sure if that's his name lol) trash talk Wei Wuxian, wanting to say something in his defense, but being unable to, not just because it's not your place to do so, but also because you're not even sure if you can defend him anymore. I think Jiang Cheng is struggling with the same. He stands up to Jin Zixun, finally getting him to shut up by saying that it's a domestic affair for the Jiang Clan and none of his fucking business, but Jiang Cheng also struggles to find excuses for Wei Wuxian. And that would certainly be difficult, because Wei Wuxian is somewhat like a stranger now. He's similar, but he's not the same Wei Wuxian that Jiang Cheng grew up with. He's really a shadow of his former self. But Lan Wangji has the added bonus of not being able to speak on his behalf because he's not even in the same clan--who is he to defend Wei Wuxian? He can't even stand with the others at the table (can't or won't, I'm not sure), so he certainly can't speak to Wei Wuxian's honor in front of all the other leaders. I'm sure the conversation back in Yiling is still running through his mind: this is a Jiang Clan affair--and to have that repeated again to someone else. That very much puts Lan Wangji in the "other" position. He's not in Wei Wuxian's clan, therefore, it's none of his business. He should care about him. He shouldn't try to protect him. He shouldn't try to guide him. But the problem is he still cares deeply about Wei Wuxian, and he wants to help him and protect him and guide him.

These scenes are always hard to watch for me (thank god for the special edition cut). It's really hard to watch the clans doing to the Wens what the Wens have done to the other clans. As if war wasn't already terrible enough, you also have what happens to the prisoners of war. In this case, Wen Qing's sect are all healers and have little to do with the war that the rest of the Wen Clan was waging on the other cultivation clans. However, they are still treated as enemies and imprisoned. It's difficult to watch the other clans, who you want to root for, making the same mistakes and transgressions as the Wens, who we are supposed to look at as the proper enemies in the story.

As we've seen a few times in this episode already, Wei Wuxian is having trouble controlling all the negative energy that's surging through him and the Yin iron, and on some of those occasions, he's touched his old wound. As he does this here, everyone looks at him, but he just looks at Lan Wangji. This is the person he cares most about in this room, the person whose heart his closest to his. I have nothing profound to say--I just like it.

And of course Lan Wangji looks right back at him. He knows Wei Wuxian best, even better than his own "brother", Jiang Cheng. He knows what happened in Xuanwu Cave, he saw the effect the sword had on him. I feel like each time they exchange glances, they are both crying out to each other, but Wei Wuxian is too stubborn to ask for help and Lan Wangji doesn't want to force the issue and strain their relationship further.

The way Lan Wangji hesitates here before saying, "I don't know," kills me. To him, it's just further proof of how Wei Wuxian is getting farther and farther from him, how the chasm between them just keeps growing. He's upset here. He doesn't know what to do. He doesn't want to force Wei Wuxian to do anything--that's against his clan rules, but more importantly, against his own ethics--yet he doesn't want to stand by and do nothing while his friend destroys himself. I think we see Lan Wangji as a character who always knows what to do, someone who always knows the right path, but here we see how that's not true at all. This is a man who is very smart, very clever, but who is also unsure of himself. He's struggling with what's right and wrong. And he consults his brother here, hoping to get a clear answer, so that he'll know what to do next, but he gets nothing of the sort.

It would have been easier for Lan Wangji if his brother has simply said, "Wei Wuxian is wrong and an enemy," but of course he's more wise than that. Nothing is black and whit, and humans cannot be judged for what's on the surface. You have to look deep inside a person, know their intentions, and then you can judge if they are doing what's right or wrong. The problem is Lan Wangji doesn't know Wei Wuxian's intentions. Months ago, he know Wei Wuxian wanted to defend the weak, protect people who couldn't protect themselves, and live by such a just moral code. But now Wei Wuxian seems like a stranger, has murdered many, many people, and has taken cruel revenge upon Wen Chao and Wang Lingjao.

What I've noticed in this episode is that Wei Wuxian will look at Lan Wangji, but he always averts his eyes fairly quickly. It's as if he's afraid if they make eye contact for too long, he'll be letting Lan Wangji in, which he does not want to do under any circumstances. Letting Lan Wangji in means admitting what's going on as well as opening up Lan Wangji to danger. Wei Wuxian does not want anyone else getting hurt or dying because of him, so it's better to reject everyone and focus on his own clan.

Honey, I'd walk away too. It's hard to tell if Lan Wangji is about to cry or about to punch Wei Wuxian in the mouth--either one would have been excellent, but I'm leaning towards the latter. Lan Wangji had to answer Jiang Yanli. She met him by chance, but it was she who initiated the conversation. Of course, angst rules being what they are, we had to have a misunderstanding a la Wei Wuxian walking into the conversation midway and making the asinine assumption that Lan Wangji was just breaking his confidence by telling her EVERYTHING. Of course, anyone who knows Lan Wangji knows he'd never do such a thing. But when Wei Wuxian's shijie comes to him, voicing her concern and asking about him, he has no choice but to empathize with her and tell her what he knows.

I really like this little exchange. Reliving the fight on the rooftop, before they were acquainted, before they were friends--before Lan Wangji fell for him. This time when he attacks, it's not about malice, it's not about breaking the rules and bringing liquor into the Cloud Recesses--it's a man, looking at the one he loves, scared out of his mind, worried that that man is going to destroy his mind and body, using a taboo cultivation method. This fight is a love letter, as far as I'm concerned. It's an act of desperation.

Also I fucking love that around four or five people have asked Wei Wuxian where Suibian is, and each time he makes up a lie: he forgot it, he isn't in the mood, he didn't bother to bring it. But when Lan Wangji asks him, he doesn't respond. He doesn't lie, he doesn't laugh it off--whatever he does, Lan Wangji will know that he's lying, and Wei Wuxian knows that.

Other episodes: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | Or just check out the #CQL Rewatch hashtag

#wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #cql #the untamed #jiang cheng #jiang yanli #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #wwx #lwj #ep 21 #cql rewatch

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bisexualdaemon · 3 years

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mad woman: iii (nessian)

a/n: *taps mic* does this thing still work? OH hey! hello! yes, this fic is properly old now and probably everyone thought I abandoned it but joke is on everyone including myself lmao...turns out I love these two..and after acosf well I would 10/10 die for them. so here we go! a ride to be sure! people do be getting naked!

warnings: 4.8k of smut (like woah). language. guilt.

Nesta wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing.

It had seemed like a good idea. Everyone in certain social circles knew the truth about Hewn City. Knew the dance club for the front it was for the shadowy bowels beneath. Here, she had thought yesterday morning, here she could be on even ground with him.

Him.

Cassian's hand was still in hers as she led them both down the long hallway toward room 3B. His words before hadn’t completely hidden his reactions to her clothes, her face, her body. She smiled to herself remembering the slight widening of his eyes. He probably thought he hadn’t reacted, but she knew. All men are weak. Just put on a dress and show some thigh and she knew she’d get his attention. Even if it was probably all for show. Cassian was a fine actor.

She thought back to four days ago. Or was it five, she thought. They had started to bleed together after the bender she’d gone on after wishing Cassian death on the phone with Amren.

Feyre was in her apartment for the second time in a week. An unprecedented occurrence. If the judgment in her eyes was any indication, she had come to check on things. Baby sister coming to her rescue. How rich. She stood on the carpet again, with her perfect heeled sandals and her tidy camel trench coat. Thankfully, she’d left the hat at home this time. Her arms were crossed tight against her chest as she surveyed the room.

“I see you’ve already made yourself at home again,” she observed, picking up a half-empty bottle of gin, “I’ll send Alis this afternoon.”

“I don’t want anyone else in my fucking apartment, Feyre,” Nesta cringed at the lingering slur in her voice.

“So you can drown yourself in this shit alone?” She held up an empty bottle of vodka in her other hand. “Nesta, it’s only been a few days since I was here the last time. Can you even stand right now?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Nesta sneered, settling back into the couch cushions. She couldn’t, but Feyre was a bitch for even asking, so she spat back, “At least I cope with my problems legally, High Lady.” In a fantasy world, smoke would have curled from her lips when she exhaled those last words.

Feyre stilled, breathing evenly. Nesta wasn’t sure if she was containing her rage or accepting the shame she had to be feeling.

“I see you gave Amren a call.”

“She didn’t tell you?” Nesta was surprised. Amren had seemed like one of Feyre’s inner circle, no matter how much money the High Lord and Lady may have given her.

“No, I told Amren that what you did with her number was your business,” she wrung her hands. She was….nervous. How odd. Feyre Archeron was a lot of things, but nervous was rarely one of them.

“Well,” Nesta exhaled, the anger fleeting like wind taken out of her sails, “yes, I called. Everything was very cryptic until someone showed up here who was not a therapist and started taking his clothes off. Honestly, what were you thinking, Feyre?!”

“I…” she hesitated, sinking down on the other end of the couch with Nesta, bracing her elbows on her knees, “I don’t know. I was desperate. I just want you to feel something again, Nes.” She hadn’t called her that since they were children. Nesta felt a little pang in her chest. I need another drink. “I know it’s...unconventional, but it really does help. Rhys and I...well, you know there’s a lot of stress involved in our lives.”

“So you fuck it out with strangers that you pay to keep silent??” Nesta asked incredulously.

“When you put it like that it sounds a lot seedier than it actually is, but,” she huffed, swallowing back some kind of emotion, “yes. There’s a lot of….relief, if you just give into it. Amren knows what she’s doing.”

“Are you and Rhys having problems?” It was the only explanation Nesta could understand for this. I mean it was one thing to hire a hooker if you weren’t getting any, but from the forced lunches and “sister dates” that Elain made the three of them go on, Feyre had always seemed to have a very active sex life.

“Oh, God, no,” Feyre visibly relaxed, caught off guard by even the implication. That made Nesta’s stomach relax. She hadn’t even realized she cared. “Rhys and I are fine, stronger even. There is power in giving up power, especially when you grapple with it on a daily basis. But this isn’t about me or Rhys.” Feyre leaned over and reached out to take Nesta’s hands, but stopped when Nesta visibly tensed at the mere idea of contact. “I’m really not lying when I say I think a little relief would help you.”

“Why do you insist I need help?” Nesta ground out through her teeth.

Feyre sighed and stood. There was something settling over her face, deep in her eyes. Sadness. “Suit yourself, sister.” She stood and, to Nesta’s surprise, took a swig from the half-empty gin bottle she’d pushed in Nesta’s face earlier. Her face screwed up in a grimace, “Jesus, how do you drink that shit?”

“I don’t even taste it anymore.” Nesta looked off, toward the window. Toward the empty corner where the wedding dress had hung for months. She’d taken it down that night after he had left.

That bone-deep sadness returned to Feyre’s eyes, “Alis will be here this afternoon.”

She left without another word.

Nesta sighed, catching Cassian’s attention, but she said nothing. She kept a steady flow of booze in her veins after Feyre left for three more days, sometimes just laying in bed for hours while the world spun. She saw Tomas, saw Elain, but most often she saw hazel eyes and bold, dark lines inked across a broad, tanned chest. Those were the torturous hours, when the desire would rise in her, when she would feel something just like Feyre said. Even if it made her soul burn. He was haunting her. He’d left her alone, angry and wet, for what? Because she refused to accept his “help”? Wasn’t this all just fucking anyway? What difference did it make how she responded?

The frustration had overwhelmed her until she finally realized that it didn’t matter how much she drank, he wouldn’t go away. She couldn’t chase him into a whiskey-soaked oblivion like she could the memories of her fiancé and her sister. He was real. He was still breathing. He was making her life a living hell.

He was going to pay for it.

So, she’d called Amren back. Had made him meet her here of all places. Had put on a dress and a pair of heels and more makeup than she’d been planning to wear at her own wedding. A costume. A mask. If he was going to “help” her, at least it wouldn’t seem like her that he was helping. She’d fuck him out of her life on her terms. Just once wouldn’t damn her to hell, right?

Nesta had never been to Hewn City before. Clubbing had never been her style. She was more of a library, bookworm kind of girl. But now that she was here, she kind of liked the secrecy of it all, the discretion everyone had whispered about. It made her feel like a character in one of her books, a different kind of escape than booze offered, with the rouge-tinted lights and shadowy, padded hallways. She could be anyone here. She would be anyone here. Anyone but herself.

“I think this is it,” Cassian’s deep rumble sounded behind her. They stopped in front of a painted black door, the marker flickering “3B” in the light of the candle sconce behind them. Nesta fit the key into the lock and turned it.

The room was cooler than the hall, but she wasn’t sure the temperature was what made her break out in gooseflesh. There was a massive four-poster bed in the center of the room covered in black satin sheets drawn back against a deep crimson comforter. Only a handful of hanging exposed bulbs lit the space, giving the boudoir decoration some industrial finishes. It was like a scene out of some vampire film noir. The light reflecting off heavy restraint cuffs at each corner of the bed only heightened the effect. A dark armoire loomed in the corner. Nesta was sure that if she opened it, she would find any number of instruments with which to tease and taunt Cassian with. This place was a sex dungeon and she had paid to be a mistress tonight.

Cassian’s mistress.

Nesta took a deep breath and settled into this new character, some confident woman who knew exactly what she wanted and knew exactly how to take it from a willing participant. She sauntered over to the foot of the bed and leaned back against it to look at him. He was so quiet tonight, looking around the room like she had, taking it all in.

“Cat got your tongue?” Nesta proded.

“No,” he hesitated, stuffing his hands into his front pockets like an embarrassed school boy rocking forward on his toes. It only lasted for a second before he hid it behind a smirk, “no, just a little….confused?”

“About what?” She crossed her feet at the ankle and let the deep slit on her dress fall open, revealing almost every inch of her long legs. His eyes widened momentarily before he cleared his throat. Was he….nervous?

“Well, uhh,” he was stammering now, the false bravado unable to keep up with the situation unfolding in front of him, “if I’m being honest, I’m not sure what to do.”

“You mean, Cassian, self-proclaimed sex therapist, doesn’t know what to do?” The teasing in her voice blushed his cheeks pink, “well, color me surprised. I thought it would have been clear by now.”

“It’s not that it’s...you’re…” he cocked his head, “different.” His eyes followed every inch of bare skin from her painted toe to the top of the slit an inch below her hip. “Something changed.”

Why does he make this so damn difficult?

“Yes, well,” she replied, biting her bottom lip for effect, “I decided that I want you to help me.” His head straightened.

“Do you?” He crossed his arms over his broad chest, emphasizing the size of his biceps. His nervous energy cooled in seconds, giving way to something else, something that had been simmering beneath the ice.

“I do,” she slipped back a little farther onto her palms, tilting her head back. She was a predator, setting a pretty, needy trap for him. If he got off on a savior complex, she’d play the part until she got what she wanted. “I just want to feel normal again.” She smiled internally as she watched her words wash over him. Watched him take a few deep breaths, watched him move for the first time since they walked in the room.

He kept his body closed, his arms a barrier between the two of them, as he stalked forward. Nesta stopped breathing, feeling his gaze shift from confusion and questions to calculated assessment. He paused in front of her and bent down, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of her slim waist. The space between them was thinner than the air atop the mountains in Illyria.

“I think…” he looked her in the eye, no blinking, no touching, just a wisp of mint from his mouth, “that’s a load of bullshit.”

A rush of fury, so white hot it blinded her, licked down her arm. She raised her open hand and ripped it through the air.

Only to be caught in an iron grip.

“Ah, ah, dear Nesta,” his lips curled up on one side, “I like a little pain with my pleasure, but not without my consent.”

All she could do was stare him down as she huffed, imagining the breath leaving her nostrils in puffs of hot smoke. A caged dragon in pretty clothes begging to get out. But hell would freeze over before she moved first. She could feel the tension between them, feel the electricity pulsing through him where his fist gripped her wrist. Maybe it was her pheromone-laced delusion but she thought he might want this as much as she did. He wanted her challenge, her adamant wall. He wanted to break her, remake her. Little did he know that you can’t break what’s already broken.

Just a character, just a role to play...

“Oh, come on, Cassian,” she tried to free her hand but he remained hard as stone around her wrist. He hadn’t pinned her legs though. She slid one bare leg up the inside seam of his jeans. The muscles flexed and contracted underneath the well-fit fabric, higher and higher, until she reached the apex. He hissed. A feline smile spread across her face when she felt it, felt him, hard and begging for her. “I think you want this a little more than you’re willing to admit, more than you’re allowed to admit.”

His nostrils flared, barely imperceptible, but even the smallest changes in him drew her notice. Why? It was a question she didn’t want to even ask herself, but it kept coming, night and day. Why did this night feel like the edge of a dangerous cliff? Why did his agreement to come tonight feel like more than just a business arrangement? Why did the tension between them feel like her only anchor to this life? She pressed harder into him, needing to move, to get this over with, to fuck him right out of her head.

“Nesta.” His voice brought her back from those questions that haunted her like the inked lines hidden underneath his t-shirt. So close now, so close to her fingers, her mouth. She looked up at him, aware of her knee still cradled between his legs.

“Cassian.” Her voice practically sang. The song of his own personal siren.

He was so still. If he hadn’t said her name she wouldn’t have been sure he was even breathing. He placed his hand between his groin and her knee and stepped backward. His pupils were wide, endless pools, black as tar and eating at the hazel surrounding them. He was drunk on the lust, drowning in it just like she was.

“Take off that dress before I rip it off.”

A bone-deep shiver ran from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes at the command, reaching back up to settle between her thighs. She flushed from the heat of his gaze on her skin as she stood, reaching behind her neck to loose the three pearl buttons between her pride and her desire. Fuck it. The dress pooled at her feet.

The corner of her lip tugged upward when she heard his breath catch. She wasn’t wearing anything under the dress. Lingerie had felt like too much and her regular cotton cheekies would have been too conspicuous beneath her close-fitting dress, so nothing had been the only choice. The right choice if Cassian’s jeans had anything to say about it, clearly growing tighter by the second.

Nesta backed herself onto the bed again, digging in with her heels to push herself toward the headboard as gracefully as she could while burning alive. And she was burning under his gaze. Every flick of his dilated pupils, from her bare legs, to her full breasts, to her smooth stomach, to her glistening cunt, she burned. When her head thudded against the carved cherry wood headboard, his eyes finally met hers. A low growl sounded in the back of his throat.

“See something you want, Cassian?” she asked, struggling to keep her tone innocent, indifferent.

“Depends, Nes.” She ignored the heat that pooled at the nickname, especially when he said, “what are you offering?”

She bit her lip at his words. And spread her knees open for him. Now, come and take it.

He went wholly still as pink creeped into his tan cheeks. He was fucking blushing at her cunt on display for him. A filthy thought entered her head and before she could shut it down, she reached between her legs and traced a finger over her slit. The low lights flickered in the reflection off the wetness laced there before her finger disappeared….

Right between Nesta’s wine-colored lips.

His eyes tracked that finger in and out of her mouth as she sucked and swirled her tongue around it, moaning at the taste of her arousal, the eroticism of the gesture. She released her finger with a pop and smiled wickedly at him.

“Want to taste?”

Cassian moved swift as a thunderclap, as if her words were paddles jumpstarting his heart into quick, heavy beats. He pulled off his shirt. Those thick, black lines of ink that haunted her dreams were on full display, curling around his biceps and across his broad shoulders. She wanted to trace them with her tongue, taste the salt on his skin. He didn’t bother with some cliché striptease. His fingers fumbled with his belt, fumbled with the top button and zipper of those tight jeans. He tripped out of them, splaying his hands across the rumpled comforter as he kicked his pants somewhere across the room, losing his shoes and socks at some point between.

She would have smirked at the clumsiness, questioned his self-proclaimed prowess as a sex therapist, if her throat hadn’t gone completely dry at the size of him. Even through his underwear there was no mistaking it—massive, just like every inch of the rest of his body. Of course, he had a cock to match.

He grinned, following her eyes, guessing her train of thought. The bed dipped as he crawled toward her, full prince of cats on display again. A man who knew what people saw when they looked at him and enjoyed that power, that raw sexual energy dripping from his every pore. With that glint in his eye, she was happy to play along—for now.

Every thread in the expensive duvet cover beneath her set a thousand sparks rocketing across her skin. His movements were measured, purposefully kept from touching her skin. He was so close she could feel the warmth radiating off of him with every inch forward, every inch toward where she wanted him. All of him. His fingers, his mouth, his cock. Nesta started to fidget with anticipation, ready for him to spread her open and take, take, take, but she wouldn’t beg. Wouldn’t reach or claw or whimper, no matter how much she wanted to.

Feyre might be paying, but she would own him before the end. Even if she had to sacrifice her soul to do it.

When his mouth finally made contact with her skin, a whisper of a kiss along the inside of her thigh, it was a struggle not to moan. Loud. She was strung tighter than a bowstring and he knew. Her traitor body was going to beg for him with or without words, so she opened her mouth instead.

“Gonna fuck me senseless, Cassian?”

His head jerked up from between her thighs, that feline smile turning her molten. “You know, Nesta. I think I’ll shut you up instead.”

Someone as big as he was shouldn’t have been able to move that fast. Shouldn’t have been able to cover her entire body with his and claim her mouth between one second and the next. His hands curled behind her neck to pull her firmly to him and devoured her. Their tongues clashed, dancing together, as she moaned into his mouth. Whether it was surprise or pleasure or both that pulled it from her, she wasn’t sure. The mint and adrenaline still laced his tongue, this time with a natural smokiness that she hadn’t noticed before. He licked at her, sucked at her lower lip. She nipped at him, teeth as much a weapon as her words, her hands. She dragged her nails down his naked back and drew a hiss from him, maybe some blood too if the tang of iron was any indication.

It only spurred him.

“You know these lips taste better when they’re not liquor-stained,” he panted. He studied her face, she knew it must be flushed from his kiss, and slowly ground his hips into hers, with the same bruising intensity he claimed her mouth, drenching himself in her through the thin fabric of his underwear. Those really need to disappear. Her fingers continued their violent path down his back to the waistband of his boxer briefs, the only barrier left between everything she wanted. Wanted, never needed. They danced around to the front of him and sought purchase.

Another moan, loud and throaty filled the space between them.

My God.

“Off, off, off, off,” she was chanting when he finally released her mouth to move down to her neck, surely to mark her like she’d marked his back. It was going to be tit for tat with him. “OFF,” she clawed at his hips. He raised up and smirked at her.

“You just have to ask, Nes.” His lips curled to the side, “maybe say please.”

She held his gaze. Please. It was a chant in her head but she couldn’t say it. He saw it there, the challenge, the struggle, but this was a battle of wills. And Cassian was a seasoned general.

He ducked his head and nosed at her jaw, along her throat, peppering her skin with close-mouthed kisses. “Just say the word,” he ground into her again, not nearly the friction she wanted. His hands found her peaked breasts and traced her nipples, slow circles at first, then quick pinches accented by his teeth at her throat. There was no pattern, no guessing, no preparation. Every nerve ending was a live wire, screaming for his touch.

Nesta Archeron was going to die here. The flames in her belly were going to consume her and she was going to die at a high-priced sex club. And maybe she should. It might be worth it. Rhysand would never live it down. She wouldn’t sacrifice her pride for an orgasm. But, as his hips did another slow roll against hers and he scraped at her neck with his teeth, her resolve imploded.

“Please,” she croaked. She felt his smile against her skin.

“What was that?”

“Please,” she said a little louder, still barely a whisper.

“That’s awfully quiet, Nesta,” he licked at her collarbone and made her eyes roll back into her head. “Makes me think you don’t really want it.”

“Please,” she repeated, her head thrashing, “please, PLEASE.”

“Okay, okay,” he pushed up to lean back on his heels above her. “No need to shout.” The tease in his voice forced an impatient growl from her. He cocked an eyebrow as he toyed with the elastic waistband on his underwear, slowly pulling it down below the defined V set low on his abdomen, revealing inch after inch of smooth, tanned skin, until finally they were gone and there was nothing left between them but sexual tension and a promise of release.

Her eyes raked down his muscled body, unable to keep her hand from reaching to touch the hard planes of his chest and abdomen, reaching lower. His fingers wrapped around her wrist.

“Uh, uh, princess,” her cheeks flamed as he lifted her hand to his lips and left a tender kiss on her palm, “it’s my turn.”

She blinked and his mouth was on her. His hair, tufted at the back of his head, bobbed between her legs as he lapped up the wetness that had been pooling since they started their games tonight. Since he first leaned against her door frame, if she was being honest with herself. His lips wrapped around her clit and when he moaned around her, she saw stars. Her toes curled. Her fingers buried themselves in his hair. Her knees bent to capture his head forever between her thighs but he caught them before she could crush him with the force of her pleasure.

It might have been hours, days. He held her spread open and licked and suckled and fucked her entrance with his tongue. Careful, slow strokes to stoke the fire ripping through her veins but not enough to send her to her peak. Her thighs began shaking; her fingers knotted into his hair and held his mouth against her. His name was a holy chant in this unholy place.

“Cassian,” she sobbed as a tear rolled down her temple and into her sweat-soaked hair.

He groaned and release ripped through her. Waves of pleasure locked her body in a silent scream, her head tilted back and her mouth wide open. He kept stroking her through it, his tongue undulating against her clit over and over as her body jerked involuntarily once, twice before relaxing completely, melting into a warm, soft puddle of flesh.

There were no words. No thoughts. Nothing inside her head except for the truth of it. No one has ever made her feel like that, forced that kind of pleasure from her. Her harsh breaths were the only sound in the room as Cassian traced patterns on her inner thigh. She blinked furiously, clearing her eyes of any emotions that might betray her. Looking down, she caught his eye and his answering smile made her forget her own name.

He was looking up at her, his cheeks pink from the heat and pressure between her thighs. His hair was a fucked out mess. He looked...content. As if her orgasm was all he wanted, like he could do it again and again and not care if she ever touched his cock even though she’d never wanted anything more in her life.

But...what if he doesn't want that?

She tensed suddenly. He was an escort after all. This wasn’t his choice. What if all of this is just an act? She knew she shouldn’t care. She was a paying customer and shouldn’t care what he wanted. What his desires were. She should just take her pleasure, satiate her own desire, and leave. That had been the plan when she came here. Hell, she had just been acting when this all started.

Until he gave her the best orgasm of her entire fucking life. Until he called her on her bullshit, got naked, and got on his knees for her. Until he made her gasp his name and fucking cry for the privilege.

This was wrong. She shouldn’t—couldn’t—

I don’t deserve this.

Her breath caught in her throat. I need to get out of here.

She sat up so quickly her head spun. Her fingers caught on the restraints attached to the headboard and she recoiled. What am I doing? Why did I think this was a good idea? Cassian jerked up from between her legs at the motion, the perfect window for her to rip her legs from his vicinity and swing them to the floor.

“Nesta, what’s wrong?”

She heard him, confused, still panting, but she couldn’t find the words to answer him. The panic was bitter, the taste in stark relief to Cassian’s tongue. Stop! Where is my fucking dress? Her head swiveled frantically. A slip of navy stuck out from under the armoire in the corner. She lurched forward, grabbing and pulling on the dress that barely covered her ass, left nothing to the imagination. What have I done?

“Nesta, what is happening?” Cassian was louder this time. Loud enough to draw her eyes. He was leaning on one elbow, wide-eyed and still painfully hard. At this angle, she could see the angry red marks across his shoulder, darkening with dried blood in some places. A damning souvenir for what she had done. A claiming.

She couldn’t ignore the voice in her head. A betrayal.

“Was—” he sat up and leaned on his knees, “was it not good?” Some unfamiliar emotion danced across his eyes as he waited. She stared and stared and stared. “Did I—“ he kept hesitating, “did I not make you feel good?”

It was the doubt, thick and traitorous, in his voice that made her silently turn around and walk out the door.

------ *runs away*

tags: @sleeping-and-books @greerlunna @sjmships @cupcakey00 @queenestarcheron @awesomelena555 @mysticalunicole @lordof-bloodshed @courtofjurdan

#acotar #acosf #acotar fic #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #sjm #sarah j maas #nessian #nessian fic #nessian au #acotar au #acotar smut #my writing

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ahundredtimesover · 3 years

Text

He’s Leaving (FNTO 2)

They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: strangers to friends to lovers, popstar/idol!jk, fluff, angst, future smut; this is a dialogue-heavy series so read if you’re into that! JK’s angry in this one

Warnings: foul language, these characters talk alot bc I talk alot, eventual smut

Word count: ~12,000

Series summary: You meet pop star/idol Jeon Jungkook at the cafe, you get close, and as Hyejin says, you’re like friends with benefits without the sex. But you’re bad at feelings and so is he.

series masterlist

A/N: This takes place 7 months after that night Y/N’s ex shows up! Italicized parts refer to past events. And since I’d mentioned this was initially for Harry, I remember now that Home by 1D was my mood for this, so listen to it as soundtrack (getting emotional while listening to it & thinking about how this ends)!

He’s leaving.

You stare blankly at the wall dividing your living room and bedroom and say the words once more, in your head and then out of your mouth.

He’s leaving.

You say it over and over again, alternating between question and statement.

Jungkook’s leaving.

“Yes, Y/N, that’s what I just said.” Jimin mutters over the phone.

“But why? I mean, since when does he leave ahead of all of you guys?”

“He decided to schedule a meeting with one of the producers he’s working with for his mixtape. It isn’t with your cousin, though, otherwise Jieun would’ve told you,” Jimin responds.

It’s the first week of August and the first show of the next leg of their world tour isn’t until a week from now, but Jungkook’s already headed to L.A. and he didn't even tell you about it. In fact, he hasn't said a word to you in the last five days, which is oddly surprising.

“He hasn't spoken to you?” Jimin asks, picking up on your thoughts. Perhaps your silence gave away the frustration you were feeling.

“Nope,” you reply, the sadness in your voice unmistakable.

“I hope you don't think I’m one of those people who’s gotten so attached to him that being ignored for five days feels like the end of the world… because it really isn’t. I’m just worried and confused,” you continue.

You aren’t blind. Jungkook’s surrounded by women, some vying for his attention, some wanting it back. They’d act out either way, displeasing him although he’d never say it out loud, but you were pretty sure you weren’t one of them. Right?

“Hey, of course not! As both of your friends, even I’m surprised. You two are like, inseparable, long-distance buddies,” he claims. “But to tell you the truth, I have no idea what’s going on either. Are you sure you didn't fight for real this time?”

No real fights, you say. Your arguments about who has better smelling detergent or your choice of movie to watch or him stealing your oversized sweatshirts were as far as you two went. You often had serious talks, but when you didn't see eye to eye, you always just agreed to disagree, and then it was back to petty fights and annoying each other like little kids again.

“I’ve to head out now, Y/N. I’m sorry I couldn't help, but I hope you two patch things up! Just call if you need anything,” Jimin says after a few more back and forth of questions and answers about how the past week or so has been, just to pick up on any clues as to why things just suddenly came to a halt. You put your phone away and sit on the couch.

A few months ago, it probably wouldn't have mattered if he didn't text or call for a day or a week. You couldn't even truly come to terms with the fact that you’ve become good friends with Jeon Jungkook, the ‘golden maknae’ and self-proclaimed international playboy of the biggest band in the world who has the unenviable position of being half the female population’s (and a good fraction of the male’s as well) dream everything.

It amazed you how this oversized-clothes wearing boy with a bunny smile and doe eyes and who liked to talk to insects and impersonate chickens and act out Ironman fight scenes could arouse the sexual musings of individuals of all genders and ages. But then again, he does have that mellifluous voice and has this tendency to hump the air and dance wildly enough to reveal his abs, so you do understand the collective reaction.

For a high profile celebrity like him, it seems natural to be drawn to people from the same industry, for romance purposes or otherwise. Much of it has to do with the fact that they get the lifestyle, as his other band mates have shared, some of whom having dated fellow pop stars and models. But you aren’t from the same circle, or clique, or planet. While you’re your university’s star athlete, volleyball isn’t religion here, so there isn’t any “lifestyle change” of some sort.

Before Jungkook, your only window to celebrity life was through Jieun, your LA-based music producer of a cousin. Yet, you’ve always been wary of the spotlight, and those who loved it too much, which is why it baffled you for quite a while why you were so fond of Jungkook. He loved the spotlight enough to make his job look so easy, but he felt real — so real you almost thought he wasn't.

The midway mark of September has rolled in. Once the celebrations of your championship win over the summer were over, it was back to focusing on work and school. You’ve started your probationary period at a research institute, and you’re riding out your fifth year of university after your senior year knee injury left you out of school for a month and out of the graduation rites. This meant a chance to actually win the championship, which you did, and to appease your ever growing interest in gender studies, you decided to take up a minor program too.

It’s 8 am on a Monday and you’re enjoying your iced americano at Annie’s, your aunt’s café that she lets you run to help sustain your lifestyle. You monitor the daily operations, which means checking up on it everyday, and since class isn’t until nine, you always have your breakfast here.

Your back is turned to the door and you’re packing up your stuff, laughing at something Woojin, your café manager, is saying.

You stand up, swing your bag strap to your right shoulder and without paying attention, turn to your left to head out. Except instead of going for the door, you go for a body instead. The next thing you know, you’re massaging the right side of your forehead because holy crap this person has a knife for a chin, or a shoulder, or whichever part of the person’s body hit you.

“Ow!”

“I. Am. So. Sorry,” the person says. His voice is low and raspy, sleepiness still evident in it, and he says those words as if each is a sentence on its own. “Are you alright?”

By this time it has registered. You are looking up at the man who made your then-65 year old Grandma shriek. But that was last year and you bet if she were still alive now, she’d do the same, probably even louder.

You could hear customers enjoying their morning coffee whisper quite loudly “Is that Jeon Jungkook?!” And then it registers again. Yep, it is.

Eyes wide, you tell him that “good thing I don’t have coffee or that pretty white shirt of yours would’ve been messed up.”

Really, that’s what you say?

God, you sound so stupid, so you bat your eyelashes and put on a smile, as if that would save you the embarrassment. He grins.

“Yeah, good thing you didn't,” he says, letting out a little laugh.

You smile again, a bit awkwardly though, just to acknowledge his appreciation of you not ruining his Monday morning. As you’re about to step to your left to go for the door this time, he furrows his eyebrows. “You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?”

Well, you know where you’ve seen him, but you don't say that. Instead, you mumble “probably in your dreams?” Again, what?

He laughs again, this time more loudly. You’re amused at the child-like tone of his laugh, a complete contradiction to his toned body and tattooed arm. Your eyes travel up. Right, that was his shoulder you hit, you realize.

This is such a turn-off. Why does he keep laughing at stupid things?

“That sounded different in my head. It wasn't supposed to be a pick-up line if ever you thought so,” you clarify.

“No I didn’t, but thanks for confirming,” he says. You notice him smirking.

“Well, that settles it, then. Bye!” You wave, and you go for the door, for real this time.

It was an interesting way to start the week. You rarely have VIPs entering your café, especially in this quiet part of town, and so it’s quite a surprise to have him check it out. What’s even more surprising is seeing him there again the next day.

Your back isn’t to the door this time, but you’re zoned in on the paper you’re working on, eyes focusing on the laptop screen. It’s only when you momentarily look up and see Woojin preoccupied and seemingly distressed on the phone that you hear someone say, “excuse me” with his inked hand up that you realize your VIP is back. You stand up, approach him, and ask what he wants to order.

Jungkook’s face lights up. “Well, good morning, dream girl,” he greets. You flinch at the thought of what you said the day before implied.

“Please don’t,” you plead, before exploding into laughter. “Not my best moment, eh?”

He smiles again, shaking his head as if agreeing to what you just said.

“What do you want to order?”

“So… Annie?” He diverts.

You aren’t sure if you’re happy that asking for your name means he won’t have to call you dream girl again, or embarrassed because now there would be a name to the face.

“Annie’s my aunt, but I help run the place. It’s Y/N.”

“And I’m Jungkook,” he says, putting out his hand, as if you don't know who he is, which actually impresses you. You’ve heard of famous people's tendencies to act like everyone knows them, making them forego the courtesy of introducing themselves properly. You shake his hand, a little calloused but soft nonetheless. “This is Sejin. He told me about this place and how good it is,” he continues.

“Which is why you’re here for the second day this week?” you ask, fishing for some feedback on your food.

“I wanted to get back at the girl who would’ve spilled coffee on my shirt yesterday. Turns out this place has some great food as well,” he says, a smile creeping onto his face. You aren’t quite sure what to make of this.

You insist on their orders, suggest your bestsellers, and turn it over to the kitchen. As you’re about to head back to your seat, he says, “I remember where I know you from!” You look at him, curious.

“You’re Jieun’s cousin! She always posts about you,” he excitedly claims.

You nod. Of course, Jieun. You could’ve figured that out and told him yesterday instead of the dream girl thing.

“Right. Jieun,” you start. “She sucks up to me like that to convince me to visit her in L.A.,” you explain. You try to keep your voice steady. You don’t want to give the impression that having this conversation with him is already the most interesting part of your week, even if it is. Who gets to say that Jeon Jungkook recognizes their face anyway?

“You don’t like L.A.?” He asks curiously.

“It’s just not my cup of tea,” you respond, angling your body to move towards your table, but facing him still. You’re glad that the morning rush has ended and there aren’t many people in the cafe who minds enough that you’re talking to Jeon Jungkook.

“Then what is?” he asks, arms crossed against his chest, looking genuinely curious.

You let out a laugh. “Jasmine, chamomile. Lemongrass on some days,” you say. “We’ve got good ones you should try,” you tease.

You aren’t the type to spill things about you that easily, and he picks this one up. He nods and smiles. The only other thing he says to you before you leave is that the food is good, and that he’d “see you around.”

Of course he would, because for the rest of the week, he kept going back, right around the same time as you’re there. This isn't new, of course. You have so many customers who come everyday at a particular time — right before school or work or just part of their daily routine. But he didn't fit the profile of a regular customer, but you also could admit it was nice to see a fresh face around.

It’s Thursday of that week when he tells you “I have meetings and stuff in this area and your food’s really good,” after you give him a questioning look as to why he’s here again. And it’s the next day when he comes alone, orders jasmine tea for himself and for you, and asks for your number after you talk about Disney movies and the damsel in distress trope. And cats, and how much you hate them.

You have your back lying on the couch for 10 minutes, debating on whether you should drive to his place and ask what’s going on, or stay home and settle on phone calls for the next 2 months that he’ll be gone for the tour, if he’ll even pick them up. Because you’ve tried—you’ve called and left messages, not to ask why he hasn't been texting or if anything’s wrong, but just to crack up jokes that are way funnier than his, or to talk about food. You know, normal things.

You like how your texts never start with “good morning” and “what are you doing?” They’re usually along the lines of “some cat left a paw mark on my car, my day is ruined” or “I tripped in front of an old lady and she almost died laughing” or “what movie should I watch if I want to forget I have a shit load of work to do” or a picture of whatever food you ate that day.

Things are never formal with you two. It’s always very casual that sometimes you forget that his “show’s about to go on, I’ll talk to you later” text means he’s just about to perform in a sold-out stadium in front of thousands of people in Japan or something — like it was no big deal. Or that his “hang on, someone will just talk to me” is really code for “I’ve got an interview,” which you know will be newsflash and then posted all over social media immediately after. You enjoy this bit because it feels so natural, neither of you feel like you have to impress the other.

“Will you stop air fucking and pole dancing on the mic stand,” you’d say.

“Stop talking to me and do your report already,” he’d say.

“Seriously, why are your clothes 3 sizes bigger? How much food are you hiding in there?” You’d laugh over the phone.

“Your sweatshirt looks like shit, can I have it?” he’d annoy you, and then proceed to take it home.

You like making fun of each other as much as you like talking to each other. He’s easy to get along with and not pretentious; you’re comfortable to be around and not judgemental. He doesn’t have a problem telling you if you’re being too whiny; you don't mind calling him out for being too much of a perfectionist that he’s actually not being productive anymore.

Jimin was right when he described you two as inseparable, long-distance buddies — whether it was a night out with friends or a night in doing papers, if it didn’t clash with his schedule, you were together. Even if it was a quick take out dinner at 11PM after a long day of practicing, he’d be at your place.

Whenever he’s away on tour, he’d be constantly updating you about fan signs and the food and the weather; similarly, you’d update him on the café’s customer of the day or this new e-book you’d discovered or the weird dream you just had. You never feel any sort of pressure or expectation; neither of you feel too attached, despite the amount of time you spend together.

Regardless of how your constant texting or hanging out when he was back in Seoul seems like to others, neither of you ever felt like you had to define what you two really are. That’s what you always think the reason is as to why it works — it just does because you don't feel like it has to go a specific direction.

Despite all that, it still feels odd that he hasn’t been returning your calls or even updating you on how his day has been. The longest you’d gone without talking was 3 days, and that’s with a heads up. The next few months will be crazy for the band, what with the remaining shows of their tour. It isn't like him to just disappear from your life like this.

“When was the last time you saw him?” your best friend Chaewon asks over the phone when you finally decide to call someone after finding out Jungkook’s leaving.

“He’s not lost, okay. He’s just not calling,” you correct her. “But last week, we went for a drive, he slept over, and that was it. He just…” you trail. You aren’t even sure how to describe what just happened.

“Then why don’t you go over there?” She asks, almost as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I don't know, it might get messy. You know I’m not good with confrontations.”

“Just go, Y/N. He probably won’t be calling you after he’s left if he’d been dodging you like this.”

Chae hangs up shortly after. You figure she probably doesn't want to hear another one of your excuses. You take your best friend’s advice and head for the door, get in your car, and take the 30-minute drive to his house.

“I like to leave,” you tell him. You glance to your right where he sits at the passenger seat of your car then look back on the road. You and Jungkook had just spent dinner with your friends at Chaewon’s apartment and you told him you could drive him back to the dorm.

He gives you a puzzling look. “Is that some sort of warning that I’ll wake up one day and you’ll just be… gone?” he asks, eyebrows scrunched up. You could see there’s a hint of concern on his face.

“Oh, I meant I like taking trips,” you laugh, realizing the oddity of what you had just said, which was a response to Jaehyun, your other best friend, mentioning you being voted as ‘most likely to evaporate into thin air’ in high school.

“Some days I wake up and just feel like being someplace else. So I grab my backpack and my trusty map, get into my car, and head out. By myself. Somewhere,” you say, shrugging, like it’s the most natural thing that people do.

You describe to him the places you’ve seen — the lakes and mountains and fields that many people don’t know about, how the sunsets are like from there, how the trees and flowers smell like, how otherworldly they look.

Most of the time, when you’re plagued with fear or sadness or doubt, you just leave. It’s your quick fix, your Band-Aid. You could be gone for a day or over the weekend; sometimes you’d be out for a week and not even your best friends know where you are, just that you’re safe.

“But why?” he asks. You think it was ironic since this is a guy who leaves for a living.

“When I was younger, we had this class and the teacher asked us to draw an object that represents us. I didn't even have a clear idea of who I was, how could I find the right object to symbolize me? You’ve got to find yourself, that’s how you’ll know, she said. I asked her how. She told me to go look at a map,” you narrate, looking back at that moment when you stared at your teacher trying to figure out if she was kidding or not.

“I guess you find yourself in places you don't know. Or you realize who you really are when things get chaotic and you go somewhere far. Or you pull yourself away from the crazy to take a breath and escape some things you’re not really ready to face…” you state.

“I never knew exactly what she meant, but I figured they all made sense,” you continue, slowing down the car as you’re a block away from his place. “You’ll always find a reason to leave.”

“But does leaving solve any of your problems?”

“Not always, but sometimes the problem is nothing that you leave behind. Sometimes the problem is you.” You’d thought about the times you came back and felt like a different person with a different perspective on things.

You look at him smiling, and you realize he’s been looking at you the whole time. You pull on the brakes, ready to say your goodnight, but he isn’t quite finished.

“What’s your favorite thing about leaving?”

There are so many things you love about it. You love how it means you have the freedom and capability to do anything you want. You love seeing new scenery, discovering places for the first time, meeting new people and learning their stories. It is such a human thing to want to leave, you think. You like everything about it, even the parts where you get completely lost or rained or snowed on because you weren’t prepared.

“Coming home,” you say.

He softens at this, a pleased look on his face.

“It’s like you’re gone for awhile and you see things for the first time, but then you drive back and you start seeing the familiar things — the streetlights, the driveways, the parks, the cafes… And all those constant things, they’re still there even when you leave, like they’re just waiting for you to come back.”

“You should know that. You’re always jetting off somewhere new,” you say.

“I leave because I have to. It’s part of the job.”

That conversation is ringing in your head the whole car ride to Jungkook’s house. Your knack for driving off is one of those things you never really share with anyone apart from your best friends. You never liked the thought of having to explain yourself to people, especially those you haven’t known for long, but with Jungkook, it never felt like you had to explain anything; you were always just sharing pieces of yourself that you knew he appreciated, that he somehow understood.

You pull up behind the black SUV parked in front of his place; the same SUV that you know his driver uses to take him to the airport. You turn off the engine and go through the half opened gate, up the steps and through the door.

You greet one of the members of his security team as she heads out the door and your eyes immediately turn to the two black duffel bags lying on the floor. They’re plump and full of things. You imagine all his black hoodies and sweatpants and leather jackets. You picture the bucket hats all neatly folded and his favorite Balenciaga sneakers tucked in somewhere. It feels weird, standing here at his foyer and just waiting for something to happen.

You hear steps skipping down the stairs and his voice, assuring “I’ll call you when I get there” to someone on the phone.

He’s looking down on it, texting someone who isn’t you. He does a double take, probably not expecting to see you standing by his door with a sad and confused look on your face.

You’re fidgety and you feel nervous. You never liked confrontations, even if you were convincing yourself that is not why you came here in the first place. You just want to see how he was doing, maybe ask what he’s been up to, wish him luck on the shows and that you’d see him when he gets back in two months.

“Y/N…” he starts. “I wasn't expecting you to be here.”

“Why, because you didn’t expect me to know you were leaving because you didn't tell me?” You say too quickly, resolve dissipating, tone and voice betraying you.

He looks taken aback. “Does it matter that I didn’t?” He says defensively, pulling up his duffel bags on a chair and seemingly looking for something inside one of them. You know he’s just distracting himself so he wouldn't have to look at you.

“You go home to your parents for three days and you ask to see me the day before, and now you leave for North America for two months and suddenly it doesn't matter that you don’t tell me?” Your voice is getting louder and you immediately wish you hadn’t come here at all. It seems like he doesn’t want you to be here just the same.

“You didn't even bother returning my calls or texts. And now you’re leaving. Your first show isn’t even until a week from now,” you say, crossing your arms. “What’s the rush?”

“I have a meeting with a producer,” he responds.

“That you couldn’t do during your free days there?” You snap back. You know this, you know they’re given some free time and he could’ve easily slipped that in there.

He sighs, knowing he can’t get out of this one. ��I just want to be away from here, that’s all,” he says, glancing at you and then back at his bags.

“You mean away from me?”

He continues shuffling things in his duffel. He doesn’t even respond. You know it. He’s leaving because he wants to be away from you.

“What’s going on, Jungkook? One day we’re laughing our butts off until we fall asleep and the next you just… not call at all.”

“I just didn't feel like it, I guess,” he says, zipping one of the bags and adjusting its strap.

This infuriates you.

“Well that’s nice. It seemed like you always felt like coming over with dinner, keeping me company while I worked, convincing me to go out for drinks, meeting me at the café for breakfast but then all of a sudden you don’t feel like calling?” You bite back.

He’s silent for a while, as if finding the right words to say.

“You know what else is nice?” he starts, looking at you. “Calling me to come over on Friday nights when you don't feel like being out, asking me to stay the night and having me sleep next to you, kissing me and then telling me that ‘this feels nice and comfortable and fun’ and that I really am a great friend’.” His tone is angry, frustrated, desperate.

You feel your jaw drop open even if it’s closed. You did not see this coming at all. You always felt like you two were on the same page, that you like each other’s company so much that you prefer staying in on Fridays watching movies or National Geographic. You thought you both understand that sleeping next to each other only means you want to talk and laugh until you fall asleep, which is what happens all the time. You kiss then, which you treat like a goodbye because you don’t know if he’ll be there when you wake up.

“I never thought of you as the selfish and unfair type, but I guess there’s just too many layers of you that it takes time before this side of you comes out.” He swings both his bags to his right shoulder, hinting that he’s ready to leave, that he’s ready to leave things like this.

He starts walking towards the door. “They weren’t kidding when they said everything you touch turns into a mess.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck, Jeon,” is all you could say. You’d never seen him this upset. Worse, you’d never seen him this upset at you.

“So what, I turned us into this big mess and you leave just like that? Like it’s not even worth talking to me about whatever it is you’re feeling?” you ask, following his movements. He’s halfway out the door by this time.

You follow him out, overtake him and make sure he could see your face. “Leaving doesn't always solve problems.”

“Well, Y/N, sometimes it does. Because sometimes you’re not the problem, it’s what you leave behind.”

You look at his face, trying to find pieces of him you thought you’d figured out. He turns away, not wanting to see you like this. You see him soften a little bit, like he didn't mean for things to turn out this way, but you know he isn’t going to let up. You have so many questions running through your mind. What did this all mean? What’s going to happen now?

“It’s sad how when someone you care about tells you exactly what you are to them, you realize at that moment what they are to you, and it’s the complete opposite.”

He turns to look at you this time, his face screaming a kind of sadness you’d never seen before. You’d talked about him being homesick all these years when he’s out on tour. He’d shared how the gossip and his negative image have affected him and his relationships. He’d talked about how difficult it was holding onto things and people that were real, but none of those moments could compare to this one and to this look he has on right now that lets you know he’s upset and it has everything to do with you.

You’re the one he’s leaving behind. You’re the mess he wants to get away from. You’re probably the last person he wants to see before flying out because you’re the problem he doesn't want to deal with.

“Jungkook…” you start, although you have absolutely no idea what you want to say. You look at him, eyes pleading for something, anything.

“I have to go,” is all he says. He turns around, clutching his bags over his shoulders, and walks away.

No ‘see you around’ or ‘I’ll call you soon’ like always. It was just ‘I have to go,’ like it was the period to the past months you two have been hanging out. ‘I have to go,’ like ‘leaving you is this need I have to fulfill.’ ‘I have to go,’ like, ‘this is it.’

You watch him walk out the gate. You watch the car drive away. There’s always something poetic about watching someone leave. You’d been used to that growing up. Your parents were always leaving, saving lives in places that needed saving, but you always knew they’d still be thinking about you and missing you while they were away.

But with Jungkook, it was different. You hadn’t quite gotten used to him leaving all the time, and right now, you aren’t sure he’d be thinking about you or missing you while he was gone.

‘I have to go,’ he said. Like, ‘I’m leaving. I don't want to stick around. I don't want to be here. I don't want to be with you.’

Things don’t feel real. You’ve been driving for 30 minutes, unsure where to go, reeling over the conversation you just had with Jungkook, if you could even call it that. It’s like he just dropped a bomb on you that you didn't know he’d had all this time.

There was so much frustration and sadness on his face that morning and you couldn't get the image out of your head. What have you done? You kept asking yourself.

But you reason that none of this is your fault. You thought everything was clear between the both of you. Sure, you never really talked about it, but if he was really feeling differently about you, then why didn't he just say something?

“I’m heading out,” you say to Jaehyun over the phone. He’s always the first person you call when you feel like driving off.

“I’m guessing the talk with Jungkook didn't turn out well?” he asks.

You don’t respond. You don’t really want to say anything to your friends about all this until you’ve figured things out.

“Chae told me,” he says, interrupting the silence.

“Yeah, I figured,” you reply. Information is so fluid between the both of them.

“So where are you off to?”

“I don't really know, just wherever,” you say, but you know exactly where you’re going. It will just take another hour until you get there.

“Alright, just be safe,” he says, before hanging up.

You step on the gas and turn on the music. Anything is better than the silence that’s ringing in your ears right now. You hum to the tunes of Colde and LeeHi, praying to the heavens you won’t hear Jungkook’s voice on the next song. This is your ‘favorites’ playlist and he had sneakily included some of his band’s songs one day when you went out to the market to grab some fruits and he stayed at your place watching TV.

About 60 minutes later, you reach the place. It’s en route to a town a couple of miles south of the city. It’s a turn to the corner, onto a dirt road and a path lined with shrubs and small trees. The entrance to the main beach is right off the highway about a mile away, but you’d discovered this entrance not long ago when you drove off on a Sunday, two days after your ex-boyfriend came knocking at your door months after he broke up with you. It was the first time you spoke since then, and it was also the first time he ever tried to explain himself to you. You remember that trip; it was 7 months ago and it was also the last time you’d been here. Somehow you just felt the pull of this place.

You realize later on, as you sit on the shore watching the sky turn purple and orange, that you told Jungkook about this when you were here.

You watched the sunset then just like today. It looked so beautiful and so you snapped a picture and sent it to him. He was in Japan at that time for an event. You’d told him you’d fallen asleep and were just listening to the waves crash on the shore — your favorite sound in the world, you’d said. When it was all over, you decided to call it a day.

“I’m driving back now,” you’d told him. “Okay,” he responded, voice tired from the day he had. It was rare for you to talk to anyone when you were out. You felt like a part of home was tugging at you when you did. But Jungkook was away and you just wanted him to see what you were seeing. You felt it was a way for you to tell him that you were fine. He didn’t seem convinced when he’d left your apartment that Friday night after Jinyoung visited. The photo you sent of the sunset, and the next one of you lying on the sand, smiling, were enough to convince him that indeed you were.

“Okay. Hold on to the feeling once you see the familiar,” he’d said. He knew you loved that feeling. He always said he imagined a smile creeping from the left side of your mouth when you realized you were nearing home.

“You’re familiar, Jeon,” you’d told him.

You liked the idea, that you saw him as something familiar. You’d only known each other then for a few months but you’d talked as if it had been years. He was away but he still felt constant.

“So are you, Y/L/N,” he replied.

You were thinking about this, about him, as the dust settled and the sky’s now a pretty dark blue with tiny hints of burnt orange. The waves still sound majestic, truly something you can never get tired of. You feel the cold autumn air tingle your insides. You close your eyes and breathe in to try to immerse yourself in your surroundings, hoping against hope that something will click and things will make sense.

You’d spent the whole afternoon here yet you feel like nothing’s changed. He is on the plane to California and you’re still confused. You still have the same questions from last week, from this morning. He’s still your constant; you just aren’t sure if you’re still his.

Leaving doesn't always solve problems, you told yourself. You just wished you’d told him one more time. Maybe he would’ve stayed.

“We’re having Spanish,” Chaewon says as you enter her apartment. “And you’re late.” She continues, turning to you with slices of apples and oranges in her hands. You could hear the laughter and the cheers from the living room. Nobody’s minding you because a soccer game is on.

You envy their energy — why you agreed to continue to help run the cafe even with a full-time job, you don’t know, but it’s starting to take its toll on you and all you want to do is sleep. Jungkook and the guys will soon be in full preparation mode for the start of the tour and your superstar friend, who had now also claimed your own friends, wanted to have dinner with everyone before things got too busy.

“You cooked?” you ask, returning your gaze to her after looking out on who is already here.

“Nope. Take-out. But the Sangria is homemade.”

“Take-out?” you repeat, excitedly, making your way to the table to check on the food.

“Jungkook wanted Spanish and take-out,” Chaewon confirms, as laughter roars from the living room.

You walk over to check on everybody else who all acknowledge your presence with air fist bumps.

“So you’ve moved past Chinese and Japanese take-out and have gone for Spanish now, huh, Jeon?” you question. He gives you his signature bunny smile from his seat on the floor. He does that quite often when he’s showing off or after he’s done something nice.

“Hey, it’s a classy place and I get a discount. And, Chae sounded tired when I called so I took it upon myself to save dinner,” he proudly declares, standing up and motioning towards you. How cocky, you think, but you return his pinch on your cheek with a pinch on his nose.

Dinner is as fun as dinner with your friends always goes, but your hectic schedule that day made you extremely tired. After moving to the couch and a glass of Sangria later, you feel your head spinning and rest it on Jungkook’s shoulder. He notices your tired face, nudges at you and says he’s going to take you home. “Thanks, Jeon,” you murmur under your breath. “I promise I won’t puke.”

It takes a few glasses of water and a handful of profiteroles to get you sobered up and ready to head out. He helps you get in his car and you retreat to a semi-fetus position until the next corner.

“You’re really tired, aren’t you? You’re never this quiet during a car ride. Even when you’re drunk you won’t stop talking… or singing,” he teases. “Out of tune, I might add.”

You sit up from your sulking position. “Sometimes I just want to choke you, you know” you remark with a serious face.

“Do you want to feel the wrath of my women?” he questions, winking, referring to his army of fans who are protective of him, and for good reason.

“They’d probably want to do the same, only in a sexual way.” At this he laughs, shaking his head as if to say you��d done it again, teased him like this and made his cheeks blush.

The ride is a quick one for a Thursday night. You feel you haven't made fun of him enough as he pulls the brakes in front of your apartment building and immediately steps out and walks to your side before you could even thank him and say goodbye.

He opens the door and pulls you out like it’s routine, although you clearly remember he’d brought you home when you were drunk only twice, one of which was when he’d found you half-naked in your kitchen with a knife, ready to attack him. Since then, Jungkook had made sure to never let you be that drunk again, and always made it a point to feed you sweets so you’d stay awake.

He’s successful though — you’re sober and awake tonight. You’re just really tired.

You unlock your apartment door and he steps in with you, goes straight to your kitchen and makes you tea. He knows that chamomile makes you sleep well, and that’s exactly what he prepares.

“So comfortable in my place already, Jeon,” you say after realizing what he’s doing. He just knows in what cupboard your mug is kept, and in which box the chamomile is stored, and how much sugar you put, but then again, he did help you quite a bit organize your kitchenware. He opens a drawer to get aspirin - “Just in case,” he says. You watch him like he had done this many times before.

A small smile forms on your lips.

“Look, you’re tired and I convinced you to come tonight. If you don't sleep well, you’ll wake up in a bad mood and complain to me again that your neighbor’s cat is loitering on your steps… and then you’ll blame me.”

You laugh. For someone who deals with so many people everyday, it amazes you how well he remembers things about you like that.

“I was about to say how I like hanging out with you because you make me coffee or tea…”

“You’d do the same for me, Y/N, no matter how much you want to stop yourself from doing so.” He winks at you, tastes the tea, and places it on the counter.

You sit on the chair and feel the aroma of the tea soothe you. He stands there watching you, pleased with what he’s done. “You good?” he asks, and you nod behind your mug.

You don’t need to be taken care of, you’d told him once. You don’t need someone to be looking out for you when you’re drunk and being clumsy, when you’re busy and not eating, when you’re injured and unable to walk properly, when you’re stressed and needed a break.

“If you don’t want me here you could always just tell me, you know?” he’d said once. “I won’t take it personally. We’re good with each other that way.”

But you never asked him to leave. In fact, you always wanted him to stay, always asked him to.

“Ready to call it a night?” he questions, after you put down your empty mug.

You look up at him. You could feel your eyes falling and your body aching for a warm shower and your sheets. It’s been a crazy week and it isn’t even over. You want to rest, but you also don't want to be alone.

“Can you stay?” you ask, biting your lip and trying hard to pull off your puppy eyes so he’d say yes.

“Sure,” he says. He didn’t wait for an explanation. He didn’t need one. He just understood.

You give him a warm smile.

“I know you love my couch, but I might forget in the morning you’re here and I might stab you for real this time,” you state. “The bed’s big enough for both of us and Chandler,” you offer, referring to your hedgehog stuffed toy that’s about half your size.

“At least I get a blanket!” he claims.

“Thanks, Jeon.”

A soft smile appears on his face. “Anything for you, Y/N.”

By the time you decide to leave the beach, the sky has already settled in a midnight blue. The waves are crashing, and from across the water, you could see lights from the small town not so far away. You think about spending the night there, or driving someplace else and sleeping in your car until the next morning. But you decide to go home, even if you know you’ll just be thinking about him more if you do.

You turn on your engine, put the windows down, and listen to the wind. You think about this morning again. You’re still in denial that he’d said what he did and the implication that you probably led him on all these months.

But you’re convincing yourself that he couldn't pin this on you — he was always calling, he was always texting, he always wanted to be with you after a busy week, he always made it up to you when he couldn’t come over, he always stayed when you asked him to.

You two kissed, but it was a soft one, not ravenous or lust-filled. He didn't pull away and you didn’t try to deepen it. But he looked so good after their show and he was gonna be gone for the tour and the alcohol was talking and you let it.

You kissed again after that. There was no drunken night to blame it on the second time, but it was raining when you woke up the next day and he looked so warm and comfortable sleeping on your bed that you just felt like you had to. But he kissed you back, softly still, and he didn't say anything. He didn't pull you in for another one after.

If he really felt anything, then he should have. He should have grabbed you and told you he wanted more, that he was feeling differently, that things were changing. He should’ve done it then or any other time after that. He was always honest with you, but you didn't understand why he wasn't honest about this one, why he decided to just stop things and leave you hanging.

Maybe you weren’t away long enough, because you didn't even realize that you were already home until you saw your neighbor’s white sedan parked in your street. You pull the brakes and park behind it, thinking you were probably absent-minded the entire ride back.

There’s no warm feeling inside that you’re back. This wasn’t a trip that was meant to change anything or make you figure out how to fix things. All you thought about was that you miss him terribly, and maybe that’s what it was meant for, rub in your face that he’s gone.

You drag yourself up the stairs and enter your place. It suddenly feels like he’s everywhere in your apartment. You’d moved in last year and not even your best friends or your mom had imprinted enough of themselves inside.

There’s the cup Jungkook bought for you after he broke one of your favorites. There’s this pack of granola bars in your pantry that he got so you wouldn't have to gobble up ice cream when you were hungry. There’s the spare toothbrush he started using after his first night in. There’s your sweatshirt that he returned, and his hoodie that he said he’d get back the next time he sees you.

And there’s the counter where you both shared take-out dinners and homemade breakfast. And there’s your couch where you spent nights working while he watched TV on mute. And there’s your bed where he’d slept next to you a few times.

“I shouldn't have watched all those stupid chick flicks when he wasn't talking to me,” you think out loud. Now you’re left with an apartment that has him everywhere.

You’re not even together. You’ve shared so much of yourself to each other but never ‘I like you’s’ nor ‘I love you’s,’ not even ‘I miss you’, but why does it feel like you’ve shared all that and more? Why this sudden feeling of emptiness after he told you he had to go and then left just like that?

Everything you touch turns into a mess, he told you.

Your friends joke about it all the time. Your penchant for trying anything that remotely interests you doesn’t necessarily mean you’re good at it. Whether it’s decorating those Valentine’s cookies that Hyejin bakes, molding those vases during a pottery class you impulsively signed up for, or even making pajeon when Chae said you couldn’t fry anything other than your broken-yolk eggs, you just have the tendency to end up with final products that are nothing like what you intended. In look or substance, they’re just not that pretty. Jungkook always laughed along.

But he said it to you today like it burned him. As if to say, look at what you’ve done, I don’t want to be a part of this.

“So uhm, are you just going to sit there and watch us or are you going to help?” Jungkook asks from the floor of your living room, paintbrush in one hand, goodie bag in another.

Body sprawled on your sofa with legs hanging and kicking off the armrest, you look at him with a pout. “Jaehyun doesn’t want me to.”

Jaehyun sighs from where he’s sat on the floor. “It’s not that I don’t want to, Y/N. It’s that I can’t afford to.”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, whatever,” bitterness apparent in your voice.

It’s a Sunday and your friends are at your apartment to help Jaehyun decorate the goodie bags he’ll be distributing to the kids at the orphanage that he volunteers at. Twice a year, he throws them a party that requires decorating giveaway bags that contain the books and sweets he’s bought with his own money. Jungkook ended up there because, well, by now you don’t question him anymore. They had a day-off and he said he was bored.

“Jaehyun’s being kind. Y/N’s just really shit at these things so he doesn’t let her touch these,” she says, holding up a bag where she’d painted a rainbow.

“You got the color order wrong,” you shoot at her. She responds with scowl.

“Come on, Jae. Pretty please. I promise I won’t mess them up like last time,” you plead to Jaehyun. You know he has a soft spot for you.

“You said that the last time, too” Hyejin chides.

“Wow thanks, guys. No one’ll even pretend to be on my side, huh,” you sit up and frown at everyone.

“Y/N, we are, like, most of the time.” You glare at your friend. “But I spent my money on these and the party is already next week and I really want the kids to feel hopeful and inspired, not scared, okay? And I want them to actually keep the goodie bags, not throw them away. It’s nothing personal, I promise.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever,” you wave your hand at them and give up.

This is a usual occurrence. You know you’re useless with anything that involves the arts that’s why your only contribution every time you guys help Jaehuyn is your apartment as a venue.

Jungkook arrived an hour earlier with a glimmer and excitement on his face when he saw what your friends were doing, like a little kid at a candy store. He wasted no time and got right down to business. God, those kids who will get his bags would never know they were holding a goldmine.

“So what happened the last time?” Jungkook asks.

“She tried to draw a bear but it ended up looking like that character from the monsters cartoon, you know, the one holding its eyes?” Hyejin recalls, laughing as she recalls the proud look on your face and the distressed one on Jaehyun’s. “She tried to remedy it but like, just no. It looked terrible.”

“No kid would feel hopeful with that,” Chaewon adds.

“I really had to do quality checks of her work and I threw them all away cause they’d gone lumpy. She didn’t even mix the paint well,” Jaehyun continues.

“Yah! I think Jungkook got the message, okay?” You start chuckling, seeing Jungkook’s amused face and his effort to not laugh along at the thought of you being shut down for something you thought was a pretty thing you created. “I’ve accepted that art isn’t my forte.”

“So is cooking, baking, pottery, organizing, arranging…” You throw Chaewon a pillow, smack to her face like she deserves.

“But seriously. Trust her to score the final point of a championship game or write a 30-page report on housewifization and its subordination of women but if it isn’t sports or research, forget it. Everything she touches turns into a mess. RIP to all the cookies and goodie bags and vases that never saw the light of day,” Hyejin dramatically claims. “It’s kind of her thing.”

You shrug. It kind of is your thing. Your unartistic, unorganized, and mindless chaotic ass, for the life of you, just can’t get it together. Clothes and shoes all over the place, gifts wrapped in frayed gift wrappers, cooked food looking inedible… relationships that crash and burn because you couldn’t decide if you wanted to care or not, because you did whatever you felt like just cause you wanted to, because you got too close and didn’t know when to pull away… Yeah, definitely.

You turned to your friends who were all back to being immersed in what they were doing, proud look on their faces at the pieces that will definitely give joy and warmth to whoever will get them.

“I just mess things up, though. At least I don’t break them.”

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing in your ears, surprising you so much you almost fall off where you were lying.

“I’m outside,” Hyejin says on the other line. You get up and open the door.

She turns to you after seeing the blanket on your couch, realizing you had slept there instead of your bed. “Too much of Jungkook in your room, huh?” she says, looking sad, not realizing there was too much of him everywhere. You had just been too tired to go to your room when you got home, but you didn’t answer.

She takes your silence as a yes and walks to your kitchen to take out the bread and coffee she bought, then heads out to your terrace while you wash up in the bathroom.

You sit in front of her and eat your breakfast quietly while she watches you take small bites of your cheese bread. You tell her everything that’s happened the past 24 hours — from Jimin’s call to Jungkook’s out-of-left-field outburst.

“I think I led him on,” you say, head thrown back on the chair, eyes closed.

“Uh, you think?” Hyejin claims.

“How come none of you ever said anything?” you ask, looking at her. Jungkook didn't say anything; your friends didn’t say anything… Were you that naïve? That selfish? That stupid?

“Well, it’s not like you’d listen anyway,” she starts. “You always just do what you want. Like, sure constantly talk to the guy giving you heart eyes every time you look at him, go date the guy whose family is in Australia and would most likely go back and leave you, sure spend time and flirt with the insanely hot and kind and funny pop star… like there are no consequences to these things,” she unapologetically says.

“Is that so bad?” you ask.

You don’t want to sound defensive. You don’t have the energy to really argue with anyone.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t tell me you didn't see this coming. With how you two were, one of you was bound to fall for the other.”

“We allowed ourselves to get that close, Hyejin, to be… this. Whatever this is. Or was. It’s not like we ever talked about it, though.”

She raises an eyebrow at you.

“But I just figured we were both mature enough to handle the consequences. I just don't understand why it has to be this screwed up.”

She looks at you as if she’s looking right to your soul. “It’s like you ask someone to play fire with you, and you don't mind if you get burnt. You don't mind if they get burnt, too. That’s what it’s like.”

“Getting burned is part of it. Getting hurt is part of it. I know that, and I always get over it,” you say.

“Yeah, but the thing is, you expect the same thing from the other person, too.”

You don’t like how right she is about all this.

“When you get hurt, you just walk away because you expect it and you accept it and then that’s it, goodbye to everything that was good. Move on to the next relationship that may or may not work out,” she continues.

You cover your face with your arms, as if somehow that’s going to be enough to make up for everything you’ve done.

“But that’s precisely why you always live in the moment, you know? To hell with being careful, or obsessing over whether or not doing something will hurt you. When you feel it that moment, you do it. And you’re okay if it hurts you, or if it leaves you with the shorter end of the stick. You get back on your feet right after anyway.”.

The day at the quad when Jinyoung broke up with you comes to mind. You didn’t even fight for it, you normally don’t; you’d rather spend that time getting over something and moving on.

“But Jungkook isn’t like that, Y/N,” she says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Don't you get it? He won’t tell you he feels differently. He won’t tell you and right then and there, realizing you don't feel the same way, just accept it and get over it.”

You look back to that last morning you had together, the tangled limbs, the morning kiss, watching him get ready, the words “stay a little longer” almost slipping past your lips like always, but instead saying that it was nice and comfortable and fun. He smiled then.

“Thanks for doing that for me; you really are a great friend,” is what you said before he left. So you weren’t dreaming the crestfallen look you saw on his face. With furrowed brows he took his phone, multiple messages probably telling him to go back to the dorm, and then he was gone.

Your eyes widen at the memory. That’s what he was referring to. You’d been too frustrated at him ignoring you that you didn’t even bother to think of what might’ve triggered it.

Hyejin seems to pick this up. “So are you now realizing you’re an idiot?”

You smack her arm and she winces, deservedly so.

“Okay, fine. I may have been one but to ignore me like that and then just leave? He waited last minute to tell me what he was feeling and then he fucking left, leaving me here confused and hurt and in agony. That’s way worse than my quick and easy,” you exclaim.

“Sometimes people will cover up the pain rather than just say they’re hurt. Some hearts are wired that way, Y/N. Not everyone does quick and easy. Not everyone gets to accept their own feelings, and upon realizing they’re not reciprocated, moves on right away like you do.”

You let everything sink in.

“It was my second time at that beach yesterday, you know?” You start after a long silence.

“The first time was after Jinyoung had come over to explain himself. I was already over the break up; I left to get over his reason for it. But yesterday when I was down there, all I could think about was how much I miss Jungkook. Like, it was the only thing going through my head the entire time I was there. He was always leaving but I always knew that when he got back, he’d be knocking at my door again…” you trail. You know it isn't going to be the same this time around.

“People have their own reasons for leaving, you always say that. You can never fault them for why they choose to. You leave because you want to figure yourself out. He left because he probably didn't want to deal with what he’s feeling for you.”

Feelings. You always made sure to keep yours in check, but Hyejin was right; you also always expected the same from him.

You look out on the city and get lost in your thoughts. People always thought of you as someone who had things figured out - you know what you want from life and from those who are part of it. You’d walked away from people and let them walk away from you when you knew it had to happen. But this whole deal with Jungkook feels like unfamiliar territory.

If it were someone else, you probably would’ve just let it go, but you keep thinking about Jungkook and the way his dimples still surprise you every time he smiles and how his laugh is so childlike and infectious it annoys you and warms your heart at the same time.

You can't get off your head how it feels to hear him say ‘good morning’ when you wake up and find his arm gently resting on your waist, your fingers always tempted to trace the ink decorating his own.

You warm at the thought of how he manages to make you feel better when you’re tired, how he never makes you feel hopeless when you’re being angry at all the unjust things in the world, how he reminds you of all the good there is during the times you forget.

You think of how you don’t want to lose all that.

“Feelings…” you say. You couldn’t get used to the idea that he has them for you.

“Do you have them too?” Hyejin finally asks.

You were so hung up on how the past week has been, that he ignored you, that he left, that you didn't even stop to think of why, and more importantly, what you feel for him.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ve never seen you like this with anyone, though.”

“It’s because I’ve never been like this with anyone.”

“Like what?”

“Cautious?”

“You mean, spending so much time together, constantly talking, kissing, is you being cautious?” She’s asks, incredulous.

You shrug. “It was never anything more.”

“Then why do you do them?” She snaps back.

“Because I want to? I’m always ready for him to turn me down.” It does surprise you every time he says yes to your requests, to your calls, your kisses. “But he never does.”

“But you don’t ask for anything more?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to.”

Hyejin groans. “You’re giving me a headache.”

“What did I say?!”

“How can you want all of that and none of it at the same time? Seriously, you guys are like, friends with benefits without the sex…”.

You throw her a piece of bread, scandalized with what she just said. But you laugh at this. Your friends had joked about that before; even his band mates agreed. You were everything and nothing at the same time, stuck in the grey scale that neither of you were willing to admit. Or move away from.

“I think you just wanted everything - you wanted company, you wanted him to stay the night, you wanted to kiss, you wanted him to hold you, you wanted to talk… You wanted to be friends.” When Hyejin says it like that, you do seem like a fool.

“But you didn’t want what those actually implied or even required from you,” she continues. “Almost like there’s this line you’ve set for both of you that only you can see.”

You sigh in frustration. You know when you drew that line, when you’d warned yourself to never cross it, when you’d promised yourself to never want more.

“I guess I always knew what I really felt… I probably just denied it or didn't want it enough,” you think out loud.

“So what now?” She finally asks the painfully obvious question. “What will you do now?”

“Wallow in my self misery and remind myself everyday that I'm an idiot,” you answer back.

“Hmm. You’re too easy on yourself,” she says.

You smack her arm again, which earns you a laugh from her. “I’m kidding! But seriously, now that everything's a little clear, what are you going to do?”

“Make things even clearer?” You sigh. “I feel like such a mess, Hyej. And he’s the one who usually cheers me up when I feel like shit but I can’t ask that from him, now can I?” You say, your body now slumped in your chair, feeling like you’re back to square one.

“You can’t and you won’t.” She walks over to you to pull you up like a big baby. “You’ve got 2 months to figure your shit out before he comes back. Better start now,” she says, as she ushers you back inside.

There’s continuous knocking on the door, causing you to get up from your seat on your work desk and you readied yourself to fight whoever decided to disturb your busy Saturday morning.

You open the door and are greeted with a loud bellow, your name being sung in opera-style by a certain doe-eyed boy.

“Jeon Jungkook, what are you doing! You’re gonna wake the neighbors,” you shout, pulling him inside.

“Your closest neighbor is an old woman who’s hard of hearing. I think we’re good,” he smiles, eyes all innocent-looking.

“What are you doing here?” You ask. It’s one of those rare Saturday’s when the guys are afforded a full day off - no practice, no show, no filming. He always looked forward to days like this, which you expect he’d spend sleeping in or exercising or playing Overwatch.

“Got a free day,” he gleams.

“I know but what are you doing here?”

“You’ve been cranky and whiny this whole week. And you don’t respond to my memes,” he says, pouty lips making him look like a little kid that hasn’t been given much attention.

“I told you it’s work. I’m short on time to work on my reports since I got dragged to this week-long event. But I think my brain cells have dissipated; I can’t seem to construct simple sentences anymore,” you sigh, heading for your couch to sink into. “I’m sorry for not responding to your memes.”

“I’ll forgive you only if you come with me.”

“To where?” Your brow quirks up, finally taking in his baggy pants and loose white polo and bucket hat. “And what look are you going for with this whole get up?” You question, not missing the mismatched pieces of clothing and shades perched on his hat.

“Something unassuming. I asked Jin hyung for advice and raided Tae’s closet,” he shrugs.

“So what do you say? Come with me. Take a break! You won’t get any more productive being cooped up in here. Plus, artists need to go out for inspiration and you don’t seem like you’re getting it here,” he says with a smug look. You smack his arm, knowing that last bit he only said to mock you.

But it’s the words you always say to him; now he’s just saying them right back to you. “I promise to buy you snacks,” he says, reaching out his hand to you and pushing you to your room to get dressed.

And that promise he keeps. He rented a simple car so his luxurious one wouldn’t catch attention. You take a drive out of the city, sing your lungs out in the car, and go store hopping. You find supermarkets and convenience stores and little shops to look for different kinds of snacks that you both try and make reviews of. Every pretty view you see has you stopping the car and admiring the scene.

You inhale the fresh air, something you don’t get much in the city, and you appreciate this. You get back to your place, complain about your tummy aches, laugh until you fall asleep, tangled limbs and all, but not before telling him it was the most fun you’d had in a while and your brain feels rejuvenated enough to get the reports done in the next few days.

He falls asleep with that smile, the proud one he’d have on when you show your appreciation for him. He does like getting praises, that much you know.

You wake up to his quiet snores, cheek squished on the pillow with a hand over your waist, like always. You know you have to wake him up soon, which you do with a soft kiss, like always too. You watch him smile into the kiss and return it, until he finally opens his eyes to look at you.

“Get up, sleepyhead. They’ll be calling you over soon,” you say.

You watch him ready himself from your bed, still drowning in that kiss with a lazy smile on your face. You want to tell him to stay a little longer, even if you’re the one pushing him to get ready.

You always want to say that, whether it’s walking out the door at night or getting up from your bed in the morning. You always want to ask him to stay a little bit more but you never do, thankful for whatever time he could spare you, careful not to ask for more than what he could give.

Yesterday was good. You’d been drowning in work, and you’d blown off your friends this past week and you knew that Jungkook had a busy week as well. But yesterday felt nice. He’d given up his own free day to be with you and he willingly did so, knowing that you need it without you saying it out loud.

You had fun during the drive, and even more so exploring the store aisles, figuring out which brand of shrimp cracker or chocolate milk to get, buying all of them anyway, and excitedly opening them, finishing it all up and proceeding to give your review like those YouTubers you both liked to watch.

It always feels like this with him, but you had been so tired and drained that being with him yesterday just made you feel so happy. It showed with how you constantly leaned into him, how you rested your head on his shoulder as he was deciding on the size of banana milk he would buy, knowing he’d be resting his head on yours as a response.

You were missing physical affection and he was always willing to give you that, and you liked that he never seemed to ask for more. You’d initiate and he’d return, you’d pull and he’d let you, no questions asked. It felt comfortable enough, you thought. You didn’t have to explain yourself or your actions. It just always seemed like a given.

He’d said that he was dealing with a lot already as a pop star, that stuck with you and you knew from then on it was code for him not wanting to get into a relationship, and despite having being single for a little over a year already, you had too much going on in your life too that you didn’t really need any commitments at this point. You were on the same page, for sure.

It was nice and comfortable and fun, that’s what you tell him. You’re referring to the day you had, and what it’s like with him too, in general. You watch him pull his gray hoodie over his head. The black one, his favorite, you’d worn the night before, and you hug yourself to say you don’t want to return it yet.

He chuckles, “Fine. I’ll get it back the next time I see you.” You like his scent, but you’d never say this to him too.

You stand up to head to the kitchen, feeling refreshed and ready to be productive for the rest of the week. You know it had so much to do with the previous day, as if the laughter and smiles you had made up for that entire week when you barely did either. You give him a quick hug. “Thanks for that, Jungkook. You really are a great friend.”

His face falls a little bit, as he clutches onto his phone to check the multiple messages probably telling him to go back home. You don’t think much of it. When you turn back to him, he’s gone.

part 1 drabble <<>> part 2 drabble

series masterlist

#jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts fic #bts jungkook #idol jungkook

371 notes · View notes

blkmxrvel · 3 years

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Haven’t Forgotten My Way Home (21)-[CONVERTED]

Pairing: Kara Zor-El x Female!Reader

Summary: In the D/s society of National City, men and women abandoned by their Dom/mes or otherwise deemed unfit for life “outside” end up at the Mount Overland House for Orphaned Submissives. It is here that Kara Zor-El finds Y/N Hastings, broken and fearful from mistreatment at the hands of her former Dom. Can Kara coax Y/N back into the world that once so terrified her, and show her the true meaning of care and submission?

Warnings: Domestic Violence (Flashbacks, Mentions and Descriptions), Misogyny, Domination/Submission.

A/N: Hi, everyone! I know it’s been an EXTREMELY long time and I apologize for that. Life got in the way. But I won’t be giving up on posting this! I’m going to be posting chapters 21-28 daily over the next week, as i’ve already had them converted. As for the last 3, they should be up in rapid succession. Thanks for not giving up on me lol, love you guys and enjoy!

Kara liked the freedom of living on her own. She liked being able to leave her clothes lying around if she wanted to – which she didn’t. She liked being able to have dessert first sometimes – which she did, frequently. And she liked being able to decorate her house the way she wanted to, stay up as late as she wanted, play her music as loud as she wanted and sing along with anything and everything, even the television commercials.

Which she didn’t do.

Not often, anyway.

But every now and then… sometimes it was nice for Kara just to go home. To the place she was born, where she was raised. The place where Kara Sophia Zor-El first discovered just who, exactly, she was.

David Zor-El threw open the door and immediately wrapped his arms around Kara, pulling the girl inside. “I’m not letting you go,” he said, hugging her tightly. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Kara rolled her eyes and carefully disengaged herself from him, returning the hug nonetheless. “Thanksgiving was just three days ago, Daddy,” she said happily. “I don’t think that constitutes forever.”

“It does in Daddy-time,” he said, then looked past Kara, above her head. “And who’s this?”

Kara half-turned, extending her hand with a smile to the Y/H/C-haired, nervous submissive hovering just behind her. Y/N took it and offered her own, albeit smaller, smile. “This is Y/N, Daddy. She’s… my friend. I told you, remember?”

Y/N looked at Kara’s dad shyly, but didn’t say anything, and Kara squeezed her hand...

“That you did, that you did,” David said, stepping over to study Y/N, looking warmly at her. “But you failed to mention that she’s beautiful, Kara. It almost hurts to look at her; it’s like staring at the sun with no sunglasses.”

“Daddy, stop, you’re embarrassing her,” Kara said, lightly punching him in the arm. “And you’re going to make Dad jealous.”

“Yes, stop, my boy,” Randy said, coming into the living room and standing beside his husband. “You’re giving me a complex.”

“He forgets I only have eyes for him,” David said to Y/N, who rewarded him with a grin and a blush. “This is Kara’s friend, Y/N, Sir.”

It was only now that Kara was grown and out of the house that her fathers were more comfortable with their dynamic in front of her. As a child she’d known it existed, because it was the way things were. But her fathers were intensely private, and so their dynamic was often revealed in more subtle ways to their daughter. It was through her fathers that Kara learned a dynamic could be established with just a single word. The raise of an eyebrow. The fact that her Daddy was always the one who made dinner and that Dad was the one she had to ask about a raise in her allowance.

The full force of her fathers’ dynamic, and their love, had become apparent when Randy had gotten sick. Used to Randy making the rules, David had nevertheless become the rock of the family, holding his Sir and Kara together as he cared for the man he loved. Their rules had all but gotten thrown out of the window, and it was interesting to see, if only for a short time, the dynamic shift, in a way. Randy had had difficulty giving up some of his control, especially since that was even out of his control. And it was Randy who had the biggest problem with Kara giving up the New York Academy of the Dramatic Arts to help take care of him, but David was the one who voiced it, resulting in the biggest argument Kara had ever had with her fathers.

Every now and then they would bring up NYADA, but it was very easy for Kara to push away that conversation by telling them that she had work to do in National City, and that if she didn’t do it, no one else would. Kara knew that her fathers were proud of her, but she also knew that there was sadness that she hadn’t yet realized her dream, and probably no small amount of guilt from Randy. Kara had repeatedly told him that she didn’t blame him, and she didn’t, but she knew neither of her fathers would be truly happy until she was in New York.

Randy regarded Y/N seriously before smiling just as warmly at her, even as his eyebrow rose at Kara. She felt herself flush and shrugged slightly; her father was always able to see right through her.

“Welcome to our home, Y/N,” Randy said, stepping back and leading the girls more fully into the house. “Do you want anything to drink, something to eat?”

Kara watched Y/N carefully, then practically beamed as Y/N said, “I wouldn’t mind a drink if it’s not too much trouble, Mr. Zor-El.”

Y/N’s eyes were wide and inquisitive, almost like a child’s, as she took in her surroundings. The Zor-El house was small, smaller than Kara’s even, but it was comfortable and it was clear that, unlike Y/N’s childhood home, Kara was sure, that people lived and loved there. Everywhere in the house was evidence of a happy family: from the pictures of Kara and her fathers on the wall, to Kara’s numerous singing awards as a child, and both Randy and David’s work accomplishments. David was chief of staff at a hospital outside of the city, and Randy’s skill as an accountant kept him in high demand at tax season. Kara was proud of her fathers, and proud to be their daughter.

“Please, call me Randy,” he said, before tipping his chin at his submissive, who quickly went to the kitchen to fetch drinks. “And as gushing as my David is, he’s also right. You’re absolutely beautiful.”

They sat on the couch with Y/N close to Kara, who briefly touched Y/N’s knee reassuringly. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Randy, who seemed to have been staring at his daughter ever since he’d entered the room. She felt exposed under his gaze; she knew he could read her like an open libretto, and that he’d no doubt start asking her questions as soon as they were alone, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for that, at all. She didn’t have to answer to her fathers when it came to her personal life, Kara knew, but she also knew that they were used to her tendency to leap without a parachute.

“Thank you, Mr.- Randy,” Y/N said softly, losing some of the tension in her muscles as David brought her a drink and handed it to her with a smile. “It’s really nice to meet both of you.”

“Speaking of meeting,” David said, snuggling up to his Sir on the couch, “How did you and Kara meet?”

“Oh, I-I, um…”

“Through work,” Kara said, gently squeezing Y/N’s knee. “I saw her across the room, said hello, started talking—“

“Wouldn’t shut up…”

Kara blinked, looking at Y/N, who smirked at her.

David grinned. “That’s our Kara,” he said. “She’ll talk your ear off if you’d let her.”

“Oh, I’m sure the ears are just the first things to go.”

Kara gaped and as David and Randy laughed, Y/N leaned into her to whisper.

“No rules outside the house, Miss Kara.”

“Might have to rethink that,” Kara muttered in return, but she wasn’t annoyed. No, the reaction she was having at Y/N’s smart little moment of defiance was… inspiring a completely different reaction in her. She coughed and took a sip of her drink to distract herself from thinking about it.

… Was this why Lena liked it so much when Sam was a brat?

But it was dangerous, too, this game Y/N was playing with her, in front of her fathers. Kara had told her before the visit that they would have to be careful.

“Are you ashamed of me?” Y/N had asked her, and the question had cut Kara to the core.

“Of course not,” she’d hastened to reassure the girl. “But little one, I don’t want to jump into this too quickly, and you know why it’s important not too many people know about us right now.”

“Because you’re still scared,” Y/N had said, and Kara hadn’t been sure she had an argument against that.

But there would be no way she could be ashamed of Y/N. It had been a week since they’d made steps towards setting up their dynamic, and slowly but surely both she and Y/N were making progress in discovering what they both liked, and what neither of them wanted. Kara was quickly learning that Y/N craved instruction almost as much as she craved reassurance. It was a delicate balance, for Kara to tell Y/N things like “go get this,” or “bring me that,” and have it be within the context of their relationship and not just her being overbearing or controlling. But Y/N seemed to be thriving with it, and even Nia had remarked that Y/N acted much happier than she had before. Kara had declined to give Nia a reason for it.

For herself, Kara was discovering that one of her favorite things was just to cuddle with Y/N at the end of the day. She’d been worried about having Y/N on her knees so much, but it didn’t matter if she insisted Y/N sit next to her on the couch; inevitably Kara would find that Y/N had slipped to her knees at her feet, and her head was resting either on Kara’s lap or against her side. And Kara would just hold her, stroking her hair, and watch for that quiet look of contentment to appear on Y/N’s face.

That was the one thing that Lena had repeatedly stressed to Kara during her training: watching was a necessity. Watch for happiness, for pleasure. But more than that, watch for any sign of hurt, any sign of discomfort, any sign of loneliness. And it didn’t matter if Y/N was curled up to her or stuck with her nose in the corner, Kara wouldn’t stop watching, guarding against any misstep, terrified to make a mistake. Because for Kara it was a huge thing, finally having a submissive.

And having one that had been completely broken before, at the hands of another? Delicate wasn’t a word Kara would use to describe Y/N, but it was the only way she knew to treat the girl. There was a danger in that, too, Kara knew, though she didn’t think Y/N would ever be one to take advantage of it.

Even if she was a brat.

But her fathers were asking Y/N more questions, much like Alex had that first time, and Kara quickly turned her attention back to them. She was content just to sit and listen to Y/N’s voice as the young woman described everything from her parents to things she liked to do in her spare time… describing anything but how she and Kara had really met, how she had been promised to an abusive boy at the age of 16, the fact that she had ended up at Mt. Overland House.

And as much as Kara remained ever watchful of Y/N, even as they sat there with her fathers, she knew that Y/N was also watching, watching the interactions of Randy and David. It was only the second time she’d seen the way a positive relationship worked, and Kara thought it was cute, the way her eyes were wide and taking everything in. And there was a lot to see; Kara’s fathers, while not outwardly affectionate like Alex and Maggie, were very much in love. It was evident in the way they looked at each other, in the way David refilled his Sir’s drink without even being asked, in the way that Randy offered his hand to help David off the couch. Kara had giggled quietly to herself when Y/N’s mouth had dropped open a little, the first time Randy had said “thank you” to his submissive for bringing him something.

“I’ll be right back,” Kara said, when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket for the third time that evening. She was worried that it might be something for work; even though she had prescribed hours during the day, she was always technically “on-call” at night, and she knew all it would take is one case like Y/N’s, and she’d be out the door and on her way to Mt. Overland House.

But she furrowed her brow when she saw that the calls were not from work, but from Alex, and she hadn’t left a voicemail.

“Huh,” she said quietly to herself, just as Y/N slipped into the kitchen.

“Everything all right, Miss—“ Y/N caught herself and cleared her throat. “Everything all right, Kara?”

“I hope so,” Kara said. “Alex’s been trying to reach me, I’ll have to call her in a little bit and make sure nothing’s happened with Maggie.” As much as she loved her best friend it was always in the back of Kara’s mind that she’d get a call like this, that Maggie had done something to hurt herself, or worse, Alex. She knew Maggie was working hard to escape the demons of her past, but she also knew how easy it was for the demons to catch up.

She turned back to Y/N, and, noting that her fathers were talking together in the living room, reached out to cup her waist, pulling Y/N to her. She kissed her gently, and then whispered, “You’re being an absolute brat right now. I can’t believe you told them I snore louder than Theo when I’m napping!”

Y/N giggled, a blush spreading over her cheeks as she tucked her head on Kara’s shoulder. “But you can’t put me in the corner here,” she teased. “Remember your rule? The only place you’re Miss Kara is in your home.”

Kara rolled her eyes, running her hand through Y/N’s hair. “Am I only Miss Kara at my house, though?” she asked softly.

Y/N shook her head, her breath tickling Kara’s neck, and Kara shivered. “No. You’re my Miss Kara no matter where we are.”

She didn’t know why that made her arms tighten around Y/N, but it did, and Kara gently kissed the top of Y/N’s head. “Then maybe we ought to reconsider that rule.”

Y/N pulled herself up and met Kara’s eyes. “I could be okay with that,” she said, and her gaze was steady, clear.

“Even if it means you’re going straight to the corner when we get back, my little obnoxious one?” Kara said with a grin.

Y/N smiled, flushing an even deeper shade of pink. “Even if it means that, Miss Kara.”

From behind them Kara heard her father clear his throat, and she and Y/N jumped apart. Randy smiled at them both, though it was strained even as he politely said to Y/N, “David is breaking out the family photo albums, I imagine you might want to see them?”

“I- yes,” Y/N said, seeming reluctant to leave Kara. “I want to see just how cute… Kara was as a baby.”

Kara groaned and covered her face with her palm, shaking her head, as Y/N headed into the living room. She grinned at Randy. “Photo albums are things you show girlfriends, Dad.”

“Which is maybe why David wants to bring them out, Sophie,” Randy said, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

Kara sighed.

“Want to tell me where you really met Y/N?”

She should’ve known that Randy would see everything, from the way she looked at Y/N to the little touches they’d both shared, here and there throughout their conversation with Kara’s dads. For Kara it was the casual affection that was easy with Y/N, for Y/N it was the constant need for reassurance but also, Kara was beginning to learn, the desperate need for her. Kara should’ve known that something like that wouldn’t be easy to hide.

“I did tell you. We met at work. I just didn’t tell you… that she lived at Mt. Overland House.”

Randy shook his head. “Mt. Overland House? Kara…”

“I know, Dad, all right?” Kara snapped, and then took a deep breath, moving to stand next to her father. “I know.”

Randy slipped his arm around his daughter’s shoulders and hugged her close. “So some jackass was mean to her, then. It’s a shame; she’s clearly an amazing young woman.”

Kara smiled to herself, nodding. “She’s not perfect, but she’s the closest to it I think I’ve found. With the exception of yours truly.”

“Is she good to you?”

“I don’t think that you and daddy could choose anyone better for me, if you were into that sort of thing.”

Kara spilled it all, then, hoisting herself up onto the counter like she used to do when she was little and she’d watch her Daddy cook while her Dad sat at the table poring over his work. How Y/N had grown up, how her claim had been arranged. Her dad made all the right gestures, all the right sounds of anger and indignation as Kara described Y/N’s abuse at the hands of James, and how she had ended up at Mt. Overland House that fateful night. She could hear Y/N laughing in the living room, no doubt giggling at the picture of two year old Kara in the bathtub with a soap beard and a plastic microphone in her hand, and it made Kara tear up.

She’d had so much happiness in her life, despite her father’s illness and the lack of NYADA. And even though Y/N had had her grandfather, she deserved so much more…

“Is she submitting to you?”

Kara hesitated. “Yes.”

“Are you being good to her?”

“Dad!” Kara said indignantly, and Randy held up his hands.

“I love you,” he said, “and you’re my daughter. I know you’ve seen the way your father and I act with each other, and I know Lena trained you well. But I also feel just a little protective towards that young lady in the living room, and just as much as you deserve someone to be amazing with you, she does too. Maybe even more after everything that’s been done to her, Sophie.”

Kara nodded and hopped off the counter to lean against her father, who automatically wrapped his arms around her. “I try,” she confessed. “I really care about her, Dad, and I-I want to be good for her.”

“Do you love her?”

“I think… I’m starting to.”

“But you’re scared.”

Kara shrugged. “Everyone seems to know me better than I know myself.”

“I’d be scared if I was you,” Randy said, “And all David and I had to contend with were his parents thinking he should be with a woman instead of your old dad, here.”

Kara nodded again, remembering how her Daddy’s parents had never met her, never made the effort to contact her or her father. She thought they were somewhere off in California now, but she couldn’t be sure. Daddy didn’t like to talk about them.

“But I also know that if Y/N deserves anybody, she deserves my sweet, compassionate, occasionally loud and very opinionated Kara Sophia.” Randy cupped Kara’s head in his hands and kissed her forehead.

“I always knew you’d make a good mistress,” Randy said, then tilted his head. “Is that an awkward thing for a father to say to his daughter?”

“Very,” Kara declared, laughing, then hugged her father fiercely. “But thank you, Dad.”

“Why didn’t you want to tell us?” Randy asked. “You’ve never hidden anything from us before.”

“I know,” Kara said, feeling guilty. “But it’s just… work, and I’m trying to be careful for Y/N.”

“You haven’t technically done anything wrong, Sophie,” her dad said, and Kara shrugged again.

“She wants me to go to New York,” she said suddenly.

“In that case, how soon can we make her a part of the family?”

“I-is everything okay?”

Kara moved to once again reassure Y/N, who was standing in the doorway looking like a deer in the headlights with one corner of her cardigan twisted in her hand, but Randy beat his daughter to it as he asked Y/N, “Y/N, would you mind if I hugged you?”

She paused, giving Kara a strange look, but when Kara smiled, Y/N nodded. Randy hugged her quickly, gently, before drawing away and holding her at arm’s length.

“You’re a beautiful young woman, and you deserve to be happy,” he said seriously, then looked back at Kara. “I hope you two take care of each other.”

“He knows?” Y/N asked when Randy left for the living room, and Kara could tell his subtle warning about taking care of his daughter wasn’t lost on her.

“He knows, little one,” Kara said; when she took a deep, shaky breath Y/N came to her immediately, wrapping her arms around Kara and holding her close. Kara closed her eyes, absorbing Y/N’s comfort, her strength, before reopening them and smiling faintly at her.

“And surprisingly, he’s okay with it. I think as long as I’m happy, and you’re taking care of me, and I’m taking care of you…”

“Good,” Y/N said, and surprised Kara by kissing her, deeply, right there in her fathers’ kitchen. It left Kara feeling dizzy, and she had to put her hand back on the counter to brace herself. Y/N’s own eyes widened, and Kara saw her swallow hard.

“W-wow,” was all Y/N said, and Kara grinned a little.

“Wow is right,” she agreed, trying to force out all of the images that had rushed into her head with the ferocity of Y/N’s kiss. Images that involved a bed, restraints, and the two of them, very, very naked…

“Do you want to go back into the living room?” Y/N asked. “I think your dads have more pictures they want to show me.” She stuck her tongue out at Kara.

“You are definitely going into the corner when we get home,” Kara said, and thought that the living room was the last place she wanted to be at that moment. The bedroom would be much nicer… Her phone vibrated again.

Kara looked down at it. Alex.

“Let me just answer this, little one,” she said, “Then we’ll go back so that I can be humiliated some more.”

She pressed the button on her phone. “Alex?”

“Maggie,” she said.

Kara furrowed her brow. “Maggie? What’s going on, why are you using Alex’s phone?

“Well… let’s see, how do I say this? Ma’am’s, uh, terrified to talk to you right now, Ma’am.”

Now Kara was even more confused. “Terrified to talk to me? Why? Put her on the phone, Maggie.”

“Can’t do that, Ma’am, she’s working on a case right now. That’s kind of why I’m calling.”

Alex had been promoted to Advocate within SETS, a liaison of sorts between Dominants and their submissives or former submissives. She wasn’t a lawyer or a counselor, but she did act to ensure that her clients received the fairest treatment under the law and the government. Her promotion was to defense advocate, helping to defend those who were accused of abusing or mistreating their partners, a decision that Kara had found distasteful, and she’d told her so.

“It pays more,” Alex had said honestly, “And you know as well as I do that sometimes the ones getting accused aren’t at fault. Look at Maggie.”

“I’m not really sure why you have to call to tell me about Alex’s case? Y/N and I are my dads’, and we’re kind of busy right n—“

“I know,” Maggie interrupted, and Kara would’ve been angry at being interrupted, if she’d given her a chance to, but instead she kept speaking. “And that’s also kind of why I’m calling, because Ma’am has a new case, it starts next week, and I really think you need to know about it. And you should also know that she’s really, really sorry.”

“Sorry?” Kara said, exasperated. “Why on earth does Alex need to be sorry?”

“Because she’s defending James.”

#madi converts #kara danvers #kara danvers x reader #supergirl #supergirl x reader #kara zor el #kara zor el x reader #HFMWH

57 notes · View notes

snapefiction · 3 years

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#10. Slippery Slope - Snapemas Challenge

A/N: Day 10 of Snapemas! I know this one is delayed but also much longer than my usual ones and completely different and it feels weird to publish smut

This one got longer than I wanted it to and more sexual than I wanted it too as well. I had no time to proof read it again. So please only read this if you're 18+. Enjoy!

Idea from @deepperplexity ´s Writing Challenge ! Check her Writings and the other Snapemas posts out! :)

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Pairing: Severus Snape x Adult!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, Mention of Violence/Pain, NSFW, Smut 18+!

Word count: 5170

Y/N - Your Name, Y/L/N - Your last name

#10. Slipperly Slope Smut - Snapemas Challenge

,When I’m back at home i´ll drink a cup of tea and just relax until New Years Eve.´ Thats what kept you moving through the small alley, hidden behind the shining Shops, the crowd of people and away from the small Cafe you work at. The cold made it’s way through your clothes and you felt naked. Like the freezing air left lovebites at your legs, crawling up to your chest, over your breasts, around the shoulders down your arms- you began to freeze.

This Winter was the worst one you ever witnessed. Actually you and the cold were friends you never got used to snow and the ice. The Sun was already setting down as you crossed the corner of the alley before walking over to the small way leading to the last few houses of this dammed edge of England. You knew no one here. You came here alone a few years ago when there was no going back to your family, to the house you grew up in or anyone else. You were left completely alone and this hole- this last spot in this Town that no one - not even the ones who were born here knew- this is where you had to make yourself a home.

Taking one last deep breath only to release a small cloud of oxygen leaving your lungs seconds after you took the steps up to the entrance of your so what called home. But when you could already imagine the warmth of the safety hitting your skin your feet slipped on one of the steps and your chest, hands, knees and almost your nose hitted against the bricks from under your feet. Out of shock your fingers let go of your keys which flew right into the drain next to your House entrance. The Ice was even more merciless than the wind who crawled into your skin earlier. Mixed with little stones and dust from the street it pressed itself into your body and left little cuts. Closing your eyes for a second you knew that you wouldn’t be able to get those keys back as they would now already swimming deep down under the surface of the street. Trying to get up you checked your Hands. One Cut at the side of your hand that tried to hold you when you slipped. Your arm hurt, but it was alright. The worst thing were your rips. It felt like someone was punching you deeply and as you slid one of your fingers over them through your thick Jacket you already had to flinch. It was bad and all you wanted was this day to end. For a short moment you thought about letting all your emotions out. Crying out of Pain, Screaming out of anger, Pleading for something that felt like love, hoping for an way out of your daily dark thoughts and a way out of this place. Or maybe just a savior to call your own. But your rational thought overtook again.

You couldn’t stay out for any longer or else you’d become sick or probably could freeze to death. Biting your Nails you thought of a solution. The windows were all locked and you couldn’t climb on the wall as your ribs hurted too bad plus it was way to slippery, your spare key got stolen weeks ago, you didn’t knew how to unlock locked doors with a hair clip or anything else that would get you into your house but calling your landlord hoping he could help you. With a checking Glance over to the house a few meters away you hoped that your neighbours where home and no serial killers. Even if they were Serial Killers, it couldn’t get any worse than how you currently live and it would be more interesting than anything that had happened to you in the last few years in general. Also you knew how to do karate- or at least you thought you knew how to do it.

Slowly getting down on your icy steps and walking over to your neighbours house you gave it a closer look. It wasn’t special, it was one of there houses that you knew that they were there but probably never truly recognised. It was dark- no, it was dirty and old. Not very trustworthy but currently your only chance. As earlier you took a deep breath again and knocked, hoping for some warmth to release your tension that had build up from the long time in the cold. At first there was no answer. A desperation build up in you. Looking on the doorbell you saw the name written on it. ,S. Snape´. You never heard this name before.

,,Mr. Snape? Mr. Snape? Could you- I need help.“ Cringing at your own words, at the fact of how vulnerable you made yourself you knocked again.

,,If I could just use your cellphone for a minute- I’m your neighbour.“ The door opened only to reveal a tall man, with dark clothes and a strict look on his face. Not to mention his shoulder length, black hair and his perfume of tea, pine and old books. Taken by his presence you only realised that he was waiting for an introduction or explanation as he raised his dark eyebrow.

,,I- I slipped on my steps and my keys erm- flew into the drain. If I could call my Landlord really quick that’d be really nice.“ Closing his eyes for a second you noticed how deep brown- almost black- is that even possible- are. ,,I won’t bother you for long.“ Promising, pleading you looked up to him. With a small Move he went to the side so you could slide in.

,,Come in.“ He added to his obvious invite. His deep voice slightly echoed through the house. Following him you tried to brush some dirt off your Jacket without crossing the area where your skin still pulsates before entering the Kitchen where he simply put a Telephone in your hands. Thanking him with a small embarrassed smile and a short nod you dialled the number. You knew the number too well by now. There was always a problem at or with the house. Something was always broken and you had to call him every two weeks by now. The beeping wouldn’t stop and your mind already knew he wouldn’t pick up today. It was too late in the evening. Biting your Lip you hung up only to feel another heavy weight laying down on your chest. ,,Thank you, Mr. Snape.“ Mumbling you looked down to the ground only to remember that this was going to be an cold night. Wiping your running nose with the side of your arm and trying to keep the upcoming tears I your eyes you made your way back to the entrance from where your neighbour had led you. ,,Merry Christmas.“ You added before offering a last devastated smile and walking over back to the Entrance of your House. Mr. Snape hasn’t said anything but replied to you Merry Christmas with an ,,You too.“ Before he quickly closed the door.

So you sat in front of your door, the Back carefully leaned against the cold wood, trying not to touch your rip and letting the tears fall. Pulling your knees as close as possible you never felt this lonely before. The Tears rolled over your puffy cheeks which were also the last warm thing on you. What were you supposed to do but drown yourself in sorrow already? Never before has a Christmas be as bad as this one. Minutes passed and the last thing that came into your mind was sneaking back to work after everyone left. Until the cafe closed you still had a couple of hours to wait so you could sneak in from one of the windows that wasn’t working properly anymore. Sighing you now wiped your eyes. The cold was unbearable and just painful by now. Laying your head on your knees you hoped to hide from the falling snow that became heavier and heavier by now. But instead it made you almost fall asleep. You were just tired, your eyes so heavy and your mind so lost. A slumber almost reached you until you heard snow crunch in front of you. Weakly looking up you saw Mr. Snape. In his tall hands he held a patterned Blanket. ,,Would you like to come in? You’ll freeze to death out here.“ He was right. Your fingers were about to turn blue and until the cafe closed you were probably taken by the cold. With much caution he opened the Blanket to pull it over your shoulders and helped you up. Your feet hurt by now too, everything did. As Mr. Snape noticed your trembling he held his arm around you.

,,Let me help you.“ Drained you let him lead you, back into his house, through his kitchen in front of his cabin. Across of the Sofa he sat you on you saw a small reflection of yourself. Your lips were blue and not rosy anymore. This is where life has brought you. Taking a deep breath you leaned your head against the sofa. Taking in the sudden warm you are more and more tired. As the warmth hit your freezing skin you could feel little thunders hitting your skin and the storm inside of your growling. Too exhausted to care you drifted asleep.

As he sat the nameless woman down on his couch he instantly knew he had to warm her up. Make some tea, get more blankets, maybe something to eat too? But as he brought her a tea he noticed that she had fallen asleep by now. Silently he spoke a few Spells to make her feel better soon before getting back to the kitchen. Severus looked at the painting hanging above his fridge.

,,Lily, what the hell am I supposed to do?“ He whispered overwhelmed at the red haired woman. She just rolled his eyes.

,,She was almost freezing , maybe help her warm up? Ugh, you fought the dark lord and have no idea of how to treat humans. Kind of funny.“ Angrily he shot at her with an angry Glare. She was his best friend and knew perfectly fine how to pick up on him.

,,Genius.“ He mumbled sarcastically as he took out one of his pots out of his cupboards to warm up a chicken soup. Turning on the stove he scratched his collar only to reach the spot where Nagini left this deep scar. Whenever he heard someone mention the dark lord he had this feeling to itch his scar. It became an uncomfortable habitat.

,,You really need to work on your social anxiety. It’s been a few years by now.“ Lily now spoke softer and followed his steps with her eyes in worry.

,,Yes, seven to be exact but as you may have seen I opened the door to someone and let her in.“ Taking out his wand to do the rest of the cooking he pressed his lips together. Merlin, he loved his best friend but she could grow quite annoying sometimes.

,,Fine. Just be nice, okay? It was hard enough to get you open that door so you can at least be polite. She’s really not doing well.“ Again she was worried but now over that girl laying on the couch still wrapped in blankets and her winter jacket.

,,I am as always ,nice´.“ Severus now spoke, filled some soup in a small bowl, signed her to be quite and walked into his living room again.

Setting down the bowl he stood there awkwardly. Should he speak to her? Tap her shoulder? Let her sleep? He decided to clear his throat and watch her slowly wake up. Looking at her red puffy eyes made him feel sorry for his incompetence to let her stay from the moment she knocked on his door. Collecting his words and building an sentence with everything he wanted to say he sat down on the small armchair to her right.

,,I made you soup.“ A poet. You’re a literal Poet, Severus. Dumbass he thought to himself before pointing at the Bowl in front of her. Again she just smiled shyly and kept her glance low from him. He’d really like to see her eyes. What colour were they exactly?

,,Thank you.“ Her hoarse voice made him remember the Tea he made for her. He brewed a new Kettle for her. Peppermint Tea. He always drinks black tea but for her he almost crawled into his cupboard only to find the last bag of peppermint tea. He again moved in his chair only to push the cup closer to her.

,,It’s Peppermint.“ Every inch of creativity has obviously left his Body, he thought to himself. Maybe ask about her day, he could almost hear Lilys Voice in the back of his Head. Well it must have been a bad one if she sat crying in front of her door and almost froze to death. Ask her something. Something creative. Thousands of Thoughts ran though his mind but non made him comfortable so he chosed the first one he could catch.

,,D- Do you like dogs?“ His voice trembled. The prettiest Girl he had met in a eternity was sitting in front of him and he asked her about-.. dogs?

You had to keep yourself together not to burst out laughing. Your Mouth almost couldn’t keep the warm tea in your mouth as you though about this terribly random question and your lips arched into a smile. Swallowing the sip you still ha din your mouth you nodded before placing the cup back down.

,,Actually, yes, I do. And what about you?“ Nodding he clasped his hands together visibly nervous.

,,I never had one but someone at my Work, Hagrid, had this huge dog. He was kind of precious. Scary but precious.“ Blinking a few times you tried to follow his intentions. Probably he was just trying to start some smalltalk. The mysterious scary man I just met a few hours ago invites me in to offer me soup and talk about dogs? Well, you loved dogs so that wasn’t the issue. It was just that his random kindness surprised you and totally caught you off guard.

,,Thank you again, Mr. Snape. That’s too kind of you.“ His tension eased and he took a deep breath.

,,My name is YN, by the way. YN YLN.“ You added before taking another sip. This Tea was terribly sweet. You preferred black tea to be honest but at this moment everything was perfect.

,,Severus. My Name is Severus.“ Smiling you ate the last spoonful of Soup before sitting back again.

,,Would you mind if I use your Bathroom before I leave?“

,,Leave? I thought you lost your keys?“ His Surprise was clearly to see.

,,Well, yes. I still need to find a place for tonight. I thought about staying at my working place that should be fine.. I guess.“ Your insecurity was clearly visible.

,,You can stay here.“ Scratching his throat he looked at you. ,,If you want to, of course.“ There was something in the way he looked at you, you knew he cared. And you’re not gonna lie, you weren’t hyped up about walking back all the way into the city just to maybe get into the crappy Cafe. Severus seemed trustworthy enough to stay the night, you told yourself and instantly hoped so.

,,Thank you again.“ Breathing out you felt release on your chest. The Ribs still hurt but the psychic stress eased a bit up. Thankfully for his offer you took off your jacket. Your skin wasn’t as cold as early anymore. Severus guided you to the Bathroom down the floor and could finally inspect your wounds on your ribs. Closing the door you quickly pulled up the shirt from the side only to reveal dark purple skin. ,,Shit.“ It was worse than you anticipated. Pulling your shirt back down again you now inspected your arms. You were okay. After the Holidays you should seek a Doctor but for now you couldn’t do anything but try to ignore this huge bruise. After using the Toilet you tried to wash your face. There was still some dirt above your eyebrow but you couldn’t move down. The Pain took your breath away.

,,Is everything okay?“ You heard Severus asking from the outside of the door. Opening the door you smiled at him awkwardly. ,

,Yes, sorry for taking do long I was just trying to wash my face.“ Confused he nodded and walked into the Bathroom only to give you a washcloth and a towel. ,,Take your time.“ Deciding whether her whether not to tell him you gave in.

,,It’s not about that. I tried to do it in the sink but..“ You moved your shirt up so he could see the bruise which even led over to your Back. He scrunched his face in empathy. ,,From slipping on the Steps?“ He asked more silently. ,,Uh huh.“ He signed you to sit on the rim of the Bathtub. ,,Let me get something really quick.“ He mumbled as his tall legs carried him away fastly. Waiting for him you firstly noticed how simple his house was. He had almost no personal items standing around. - Is this a sign for someone to be a serial Killer or was he just a minimalist or something? Wondering about his Edgy Style you almost didn’t hear him coming back. Holding two vials in his hands he gave you the green one. ,,If you let a few drops run over the Bruise it’ll be gone almost instantly.“

Instantly? He must be very convinced of his little medicine slime. Not really convinced you just agreed and pulled your shirt up again. He watched you opening the vial. ,, A few drops would do it.“

,,Could you help me? I can’t raise my arm that high I guess.“ Shyly he firstly hesitated but then took the vial back in his big hand. You liked his hands. They matched him well. Tall, Slender but pretty- for hands.

,,Ready?“ He asked and you nodded to signal him to start. Seconds later you felt something dripping over your Bruise. Even this small contact hurt. A slight Burn was felt and then it vanished. Confused you looked down. The Bruise was gone. ,,How does this work? I don’t understand?“ Turning back to Severus you noticed how he just smiled simply.

,,I told you it works wonders.“ Getting up to look in the Mirror you inspected it closely. Even the Lotion vanished.

,,What is this?“ As you attempted to walk back to him you almost bumped into him but could stop a few centimetres away from him.

,,It’s Bruisewort Balm.“ His deep voice left goosebumps on your skin. Severus was confusing you but also in a good way. Where were your Thoughts again? Today was the worst day you had in years and now all you could think about this tall black haired man in front of you. You thought he was pretty when you saw him earlier but now he was way more attractive. ,,I can help you with your cut hand as well.“ You felt the vibrations of his chest against yours. Did you got closer? Were you imagining it? As you didn’t answer he gently took your Hand in his. Again he opened the small vial and let a few drops fall on the wound. Your eyes were locked with the sight of his eyes as you didn’t even cared what he did. ,

,Staring is not very polite.“ He said low looking back to you as he finished healing your hand. Blushing you tried to look at something else but him but couldn’t find anything but his chest. ,,I’m Sorry.“ His fingers now took your chin in his Hand. Making you look up at him again.

,,What’s on your mind?“ Was he serious? His eyes wanders over your face scanning for any bruises. Breathing heavier you tried to think of something to say. Saying ,You, Mr.´ would be inappropriate, would it? Raising his Eyebrow you wondered if you said that loud. Your chin still between his fingers he got a little bit closer to you.

,,Use your words.“ He said demanding in an almost growling tone. This whole Situation made your knees weak. How could this shy man turn into such a demanding one so quickly? Your thoughts were now racing in an incredible speed. He demanded the Truth? He’ll get the Truth.

,,About you, Mr. Snape.“ Not knowing why you didn’t call him by his Forename you bit your lip. His eyes wandered down your face, following the movements of your lips only to look back into your eyes. His Hand wandered down your side only to remain above your hip. You knew too well how this would end or at least you hoped it would end the way you thought it would. Feeling him so close you wished for nothing more but to feel his lips on yours. Feel him touching the places that were longing for him so badly.

,,Tell me what you want to do, Y/N.“ He whispered in your ear now. ,,What you want me to do.“ He added as he placed a small kiss on your neck right under your ear. Your chest was rising even faster now. Did he knew which effects these words had on you? Impatiently you waited for him to kiss you again. It didn’t matter where. If it was your cheek, chest, neck or your lips. But you needed it now.

,,Kiss me.“ His eyes looked into yours again. He raised his other hand only to let his thumb brush over your lower lip. His eyes always stayed on you. Licking his lip he slightly shook his head.

,,You have to ask nicely.“ He teased and his hand which touched your lip made its way to your neck. He held you close and there was no where else you’d want to be right now.

,,Please. Kiss me, Please.“ Smirking he got so close you could feel his nose slightly touching your cheek.

,,How polite.“ Was the last mumble he let out before his rosy Lips carefully touched yours only to deepen the kiss a few seconds after. A small Moan left your mouth. Feeling his lips curling into another smile again you had to smile too. Your chest was tingling and your body felt burning. Burning for more but he only let go. Desperate for his touch you only watched him letting go of you. Did you do something wrong? His long statue left the Bathroom. You stood there frozen, this time it was a different type of frozen as earlier. Turning to the mirror you quickly checked your look. Your Pupils were widened, your lips plump and you felt like everyone could see what type of thoughts you have about this man right now. Not thinking twice you followed him. ,,Severus-“ but he sat on the Armchair again. With a Book in his hands he looked like this wasn’t just happening while you stood in the doorframe and your panties were soaked only because of him. He didn’t even respond to you calling his name. Getting back on the couch you just looked at him. How he turned the page of the green, golden book. How his eyes scanned the sentences. How his shoulders leaned against the soft cushion of the armchair.

,,Severus?“ You repeated hoping for any type of attention. He lowered the book and his eyes darted yours waiting for your Question. ,,Why did you leave?“ He raised the book again and began to spoke. ,

,I don’t want you to regret this.“ Regret? You shook your head.

,,I won’t.“ As if he didn’t hear it he continued reading. ,,Also, I’m probably not your type.“ He talked about everything you had in mind like it was the weather.

,,I think you’re my type.“ Trembling you were just whispering. He lowered the Book again only to lay it in his lap. ,

,Do you even know what type I am talking about?“ ,,You mean .. demanding?“ Trying not to laugh he nodded. ,,Demanding.“ He agreed using the words you used.

,,Please.“ You pleaded. Severus did something to you you couldn’t explain.

,,If you really want this you have to follow orders.“ Blindly you’d agree to anything he’d say.

,,I will.“ The excitement inside of you grew. What was he going to do to you?

,,On your Knees then.“ He just said and watched you slide from the couch on your knees. Smirking he got up and got closer to you. ,,Look up.“ He wasn’t speaking nicely anymore. It was just demands. His Hand took your chin in his hand again. This time it was more harsh but it made you only wanting more. ,,If you want me to stop, you’ll ask me to stop by my forename. Only then it’s Severus to you. Until we’re done its Mr. Snape. Understand?“ Your Heart was almost jumping out of your chest. You could feel the impatience between your legs only grow.

,,Understood, Mr. Snape.“ His eyes looked up and down and you again.

,,Now get up again and tell me what you want me to do to you?“ Getting up you noticed his Bulge growing.

,,I- I“ you stuttered. His Eyebrow arched up. He waited for you patiently. ,,I want to please you, Mr. Snape.“

His strict expression always faded whenever you worded your wishes. Even if he knew what was on your mind he loved how shy you were about it. Sitting down on the couch he looked up and down on you again. He had to hold him together not to take out his dick and just fuck you mindlessly. But he just tapped on his lap. Y/N sat down on him instantly.

,,Good Girl.“ Mumbling he placed kissed down her neck again. Sloppy ones, the type that would leave marks. Again she began to moan. It was like music to his ears. Her beautiful voice longing for him to touch her more, give her more of him. His mouth wandered down towards her chest only to be stopped by the edge of her Pullover. ,,Arms up, Kitten.“ He pulled up her Pullover only to reveal a lace bra. A deep Moan he has been holding for a few moments now finally left his Throat. His Dick throbbed against the fabric of his trousers. She must’ve felt it as she began to slightly rub her hip against him. His Mouth connected itself with her chest again. Biting carefully, kissing softly. Taking her breasts in his hands, cupping them completely only to make her moan louder as he pinched her nipples through the thin white lace.

,,Take it off.“ Quickly she followed his orders. He loved it whenever she’d do as he told her. Watching her revealing herself to him, grinding on his lap, slowly kneading her own breasts only for him to see he couldn’t help himself but thinking this must’ve been a dream. ,,YN, get up again.“ Her cheeks were so reed from all the stimulation she got from him, her eyes now wide open fearing she did something wrong. But as her shaking legs made her stand in front of Severus she knew she was more than just alright. His Hands wandered over her Breasts again. Pinching them, kissing them and letting his tongue slowly run over them. As his Mouth laid on one nipple his hand touched the other one. Whenever she moaned he would go harder, it would motivate him. Making him eager to bite lightly into them and then suddenly let go of her only to pull down her Jeans and make her undress completely for him. For his hungry eyes and dark thoughts. As her Panties hit the ground he could see how soaked they were. Quickly Severus pointed to the ground where she kneeled down again. He slowly opened the Button of his Pants. Pushing the clothes to his ankles he hissed as she without waiting or thinking about it begun to suck him off. Shyly she only took the Tip in at first. He gave her some Time but then carefully pressed her Head down further. He was already hard and had to take care that he wouldn’t cum right away. Her pretty eyes and the way she talked to him drove him crazy. Softly her tongue swirled around his member and it was too much for him. ,,Get on my lap again.“ Quickly she did as she was told only to slide down on his dick. ,,Ride it.“ Her innocent eyes could make him cum without she would have to touch him. Slowly she got up and down. YN´s Moaning was filling the room. Severus pinched her nipples again, her plump lips were almost begging to be kissed. She was a goddess. Without thinking about it he did it. Kissing her lips he felt like she was demanding now. He’d do anything for her at this point. Just the elegant way she rode his dick so well made him moan again.

,,Mr. Snape, I- I´m close.“ Huffing he looked her in the eyes again. ,,Close to what, baby? You need to use full sentences.“ She moaned even louder now. His Mouth again teasing her nipples. ,,I´m close- close to cum-m.“ He held her sides to guide her up and down by now. She was getting more and more exhausted. Her thrusts became more and more sloppy. ,,Then cum with me, will you?“ Y/N nodded. ,,Yes, Mr. Snape.“ Her head hung on his shoulder as she was humming, making him hear her moans even closer and even more louder. That was the last thing it took him to cum. Filling her up, closing his eyes enjoying the intimacy. When they were done she didn’t got up instantly but waited a few seconds.

You felt his Arms holding you as his breathes hit your shoulder. Smiling you looked up at him again and pushed a few strains of hair out of his face. Daring to kiss him you felt so close to him, you never felt this intimacy before. It was a small but beautiful kiss before you slowly got up again and hurried to the bathroom to clean yourself. Severus instead just put on his Pants again and took off his long Pullover. There was no Time for that earlier. Smirking he walked into the kitchen so he could at least offer you a cup of tea.

,,You’re disgusting. Couldn’t you do that in your Bedroom?“ Lily grunted and made herself and Severus just laugh.

,,Oh shut it, Lily. You just could’ve changed the Painting. Now shh, Y/N´s coming back.“ She rolled her eyes and went back to her pose. Only to watch her best friend getting known to his future girlfriend.

Taglist: @deepperplexity , @monstreviolet , @wow-life-love4 @my taglist: Please only read if you're 18+! This chapter contains Smut!

Let me know if you want to be added in my Taglist. :)

#Severus Snape #snape #snapemas #Snapemas 2020 #snape x reader #snape x y/n #Severus Snape x reader #severus snape x y/n #prosnape #my writing #snapefiction

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taeslovehandles · 3 years

Note

I never meant to target you and I'm sorry you felt that way. You properly tag everything and adhere to the "don't like, don't read" rule. I don't follow you nor you follow, because we simply don't vibe together and that's okay.

But there are posts that are on the more "innocent" side that do represent fat people as a joke and it's like they don't even realize it because it's something so well ingrained in our fatphobic society.

For example, all the characters are having fun except the fat one or referring to someone as "twice his size" (like... If they want to say he's huge, they should just say it, not imply that there's a "right size" for someone to be).

I don't think authors should censor themselves, just acknowledge the role they play in how fat characters are perceived by the community they write for.

-🍓

First of all, since you obviously haven’t blocked me, you could have come to me via direct message. This is not a topic that needs to be brought out into the public eye even more than it already is. I have worked with anons before, I would have been the last person to reveal who you are. You could have made a trash account to message me in dm’s, but since you didn’t, I will reply to you here.

I want to make one thing clear. This will be my last response on the topic. If you do not like me as a member of the community please use the block button and filter me out, because I will stay. I have many friends here, and know that many people enjoy my content. Just because a small handful of people don’t appreciate dark themes in fiction, the contents of which they can easily protect themselves from, won’t make me falter.

Now, I want to debunk this ask because your ‘apology’ actually made me very upset.

I know you don’t mean it when you say you are sorry because you’re backpedaling on what you’ve told your friends and it really rubs me the wrong way. You could have owned up to your mistakes and apologized sincerely like others had but you continue to play victim and excuse your behaviour with tales of your own trauma, projecting your own insecurities onto my blog and thus hating me.

I know for a fact that you despise my blog, especially my writing, because you do not like how “obviously skinny people write about weight gain.”

Honey.

I couldn’t be any further from skinny.

I don’t mind sharing my actual weight, which has actually gotten worse due to COVID. I weigh 490lbs. I am morbidly obese. I have always been morbidly obese. For you to come and be “nitpicky” about a genre you don’t even enjoy? Why are you even reading my fics then?

The way I write about obese people, their struggles with literally everything… that comes from real life experience. I write this to share embarrassing and exhausting daily life tasks I personally struggle with.

A skinny person would never write some of the stuff I do, because they simply don’t know. They don’t know how scary it is to hear the line “we are going to a restaurant.” They don’t know how scary it is to go into that new restaurant, scan the chairs and think “Shit, am I gonna fit? Is the chair gonna creak? Is there enough space for the next table? What if I won’t fit?” A thin person doesn’t have to think this way.

And, let me tell you something else. Yes, I agree. The world is fatphobic.

In one of my recent posts I talked about movies and shows where they make fun of fat people because I hate it. Because it is REAL LIFE. And I am all for the body positivity movement and I do believe that all bodies are beautiful, because they are.

You do not know me personally.

And that leads to my next point. If you personally have issues with the phrase “twice my size”, then that is on you. And guess what? I cannot count how often I’ve heard lines like that my whole life.

“Oh wow two people would fit in one of your pant legs.”

“Wow, you are so fat, I could use your pants as a tent.”

So trust me, I know. I KNOW. But anon, this is the important part for me. Everyone processes trauma differently.

Inked ch3? Or literally any story I have written with a fat character being forced, insulted and talked down to like they’re dumb? That’s what I have been living with my entire life. Most of these stories, some obviously more extreme than how I had experienced them since it’s fiction, have been recordings of trauma I have went through.

My own dad force fed me. Forced me to eat food and gain weight. My first boyfriend was a feeder that manipulated me into gaining more weight and took measurements. Called me pig names and abused me. Hit me, manipulated me into having s** with him and then let all of his fantasies out on me.

I don’t make this shit up. I hate my brain for being so twisted now, that I actually find it hot and arousing. It’s weird. I know, but that’s how it is.

I’ve also never had friends in school. Not even kindergarten. Why? Because my “fat incased body could spread like a virus.” I was being bullied like JK was in Pondus.

I had hot water thrown at me, got glue put on my seats and hair, had my hair ripped out and even got a cigarette burn mark on my arm. Just because I was fat. Just because of how my body was shaped.

I was strangled and locked into a small locker for a night. I was almost killed for running away from my abusive dad from his car and had to listen to things like, “You are going to die when you are 30. No one will ever love you and your body.” That I have trust issues now and am paranoid about everything and everyone.

Those dark stories. I use those dark stories to try to work through my trauma. And yes, it may be absurd to you. It may disgust you, what I write. But sadly, most of it? Most of it really happened to me. To me and other people I’ve talked to as a friend or seen online. Most of what I write will be dark because the human species is made up of terrible creatures.

Fatphobia is an important topic, and I am happy the media has been slowly getting better about it, that people accept us more. But my writing is how I work with my trauma. If I can make fictional characters feel the same things I had to feel, that makes me feel better.

And I’m not hurting anyone with it. So how is it wrong?

I do not support any of this behaviour in real life. I never bullied anyone, I always try to speak up for my friends and tell people if they are being assholes. Because I hate them too and it makes me angry when good people get shit when they do nothing but breathe.

And how @pudgecuddles already said. I don't need you to advocate for body positivity and all that shit when you go out of your way to bully someone that may have experienced the same shit you have. I do not know you or what you went through in your life, but I am sorry. I’m sorry you feel like my stories aren’t okay to write, but this is how I work on my trauma and I need you to respect that.

I’ve said this before. We don’t have to be friends, or even talk to each other.

Just be neutral.

Block me. Filter me out. Pretend I don't exist. But, whatever you do, don’t make posts that call me out while making it obvious you’re talking about me, with the cover that you are advocating against fatphobia. That’s got a name. Cyber-bullying.

Have you hurt me with those posts? Yes you have, but I’ve never wanted bad blood. As you may have noticed, it wasn’t me that made a post. It was my good friend. Because I told her how exhausting it was and she knew about the posts back then.

I have a good idea of who you are.

I remember you.

But I kept my mouth shut. Because this community is my home and the last thing I wanted was for the people who like both of our types of content to feel like they have to choose sides.

In the end, we all rub one out to fat gay boys in a band. No user is better than the rest, and if there are topics you do not enjoy, there is a button for it. No need to drag everyone into it with posts. It’s exhausting and irritating.

Now, I do not accept your apology because you lied to me and I also do not feel like you meant it sincerely knowing what I know now after reading some dm’s. But I also won’t sit here and start shit.

This is my last post about this.

Please block me and enjoy the content you do like.

Nonetheless, I hope you have a nice day and a lovely weekend. Whatever you are experiencing or going through, I hope it gets better. Because even if you hate me personally for creating content you do not support, I’d say that I am a really friendly and nice person.

I do not believe that anyone deserves to be bullied like that and talked down in official posts. It happened before with a friend of mine and you probably remember that I did speak up about it.... But apparently no one learned from it. I really hope this time you do.

Insult me and shit talk me all you want in dm’s, but don’t do it publicly. No one deserves that kind of hate or passive aggressiveness. No one. Since you sound like someone that went through a lot of shit too, you should know better. You should know how it feels to be bullied and what damage it can cause.

I’m already depressed enough and I have bad lows. Let me write my erotica and just enjoy it? That’s all I want? I am a part of this community just like you were. You leaving because you did not like my content, is not my problem. If you cannot block me or ignore it and go so far as to read them and then rant about them negatively, what do you want me to do? I won’t leave the scene just because you don’t like me.

So, you either trash talk me in dm’s from now on so that I do not see it, or you block me. The latter of which would be the more mature thing to do. The more humane thing to do. Because talking behind someone’s back is just as bad.

Again, I don’t know why you felt like it was necessary to send me an ask with lies in it when I got screenshot proof of something else you have said/issues with, so don’t backpedal on me. I know Hun. I know already.

At least stick to what you said and actually apologize or, if you can’t, just block me.

But this ask? This ask just upset me.

Have a nice day.

p.s: The fact that this even needs to be talked about is so absurd and ridiculous to me. The whole thing is a petty party in my eyes that isn't even worth anyone's time? Do people on here really not have any other issues right now or am I in the wrong movie?

#taeslovehandle asks #do not use this post to cause your own drama #this is me answering honestly.#the topic about this ends here.#please respect this <3

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donaidk · 3 years

Text

Eyes Off You - Mick Schumacher

*Repost as I wanted it in a separate post rather than an ask, to make my blog organized. Hope you guys don’t mind :)*

I have changed things up a little but I hope you will still enjoy this! I loved writing it and tried to use everything you mentioned. Thank you for requesting and also reading!

TW: Body image issues (mild)

Note to Anon: Please never ever think like you’re not worth it just because you’re ‘out of someone’s league’! I wasted years of my life hating myself and feeling like crap just because people made me think I wasn’t worth anything. You’re unique and they’re just blind to see it. Rock on and show them that they’re the ones who are not worth your worrying, anxitey and thoughts! Love you! ❤️

Masterlist | Request

Links - Inspiration song | Dress (in deep red) | Jewelry

When Mick asked me to dress up and meet him in the park close to our house, I can’t lie that it wasn’t a bit confusing. I didn’t remember the date to be anything special really, and I couldn’t get myself to remember if we had anything planned for the day previously. He just got back home for their usual longer summer break between race weekends, which we usually spent laying around in bed for a few days before we felt energized enough to spend time outside the confinement of our home. But now he was up on his feet already on the first day, making us take a walk around the city and as it turns out he had plans for the following days as well. I couldn’t lie, it made me excited but at the same time so confused, about where all of this energy was coming from. Normally I waited with my vacation time off work for him, and only took out days when it was sure that he was going to be free. This meant I was quite busy with work during the remaining days of the year, making me tired and grumpy for the first days I had off in between. It was lucky that on most occasions we had at least a week together, which meant I could lay around lazy for a few days before we would get on with our planned activities. He did surprise me by not letting me just waste a day or two.

My mind started running at the speed of light when I found the little note on our bed, telling me to dress up pretty because he would take me out as soon as he’s gonna be back from his family’s place. I always loved surprises, even more the ones he planned out for us, but knowing we had to go out or it stepped onto a territory that made my anxiety skyrocket. I was never the social type, as I felt content with the group of friends I had since our high-school years. I knew I could trust them and never really tried to meet other people, be it a party or any kind of set up where you had to communicate with strangers. That’s probably why I never really accompanied him to any ceremonies or team parties when I had the chance. It was clear to me that I would just be an anxious mess, and I really didn’t need his friends and colleagues to realise how much Mick and I didn’t match. It was enough when my own brain stood against me and tried to persuade me into believing what we had would never truly work out in the long run. In moments like that I couldn’t even make out how we went from meeting at the beach in Hawaii to today.

° ° °

I didn’t really know how my friends got me to go with them to Hawaii as a summer vacation, and having been here with them for the past half a week I have felt a bit of regret. What was strange that I did enjoy myself and all the plans we had, even if every night I felt like I would rather be home and just relax in my own bedroom, maybe going out with my family for walks or meals at max. That was enough for my social side usually for a whole year. Having people around me 24/7, that tried interacting with me all the time was exhausting. The only thing that made this holiday bearable was that they knew all of this and gave me space when they saw I would need it, but pushed me to take part in the original plan when I was just making up excuses.

Our usual plans consisted of sleeping, eating, going to the beach, taking walks and repeating all four of those activities until our holiday would end. It was usually the beach that I missed out on when I needed a bit of time for myself, but still made sure I spent more time with them than I did alone in our rented house. It would have been a waste of time and money if I didn’t challenge myself a little bit, to be more outgoing. I still wasn’t adventurous enough to for example be in front of them in only a bikini or bathing suit, but I luckily never felt overdressed with my shorts and sleeveless shirts while playing some kind of sports in the sand. Thanks to the boys in our group it was usually football as there were some goals set up in the shade, but we sometimes could get them to play some volleyball too. I probably looked out of place next to all of them wearing their bathing suits or pants and then there I was in full clothing. The only way I could distract myself by only paying attention to the games we played trying to win for our team.

It was maybe our fifth day when we started to see another group of people around our age attending the beach every day. We spent a day just passing each other before one of them challenged us for a volleyball ‘tournament’ and then the next day a football one. It turned into a daily activity and even I was surprised how much I enjoyed it, both the games we played and the conversations we had. They seemed really cool and with several of them I felt like we would be quite good friends outside this holiday. One of them stood out to me even more than the other few guys, by the name of Mick. The girls of course saw it from the outside and I was teased for until the last day when I got myself together and in the end swapped phone numbers with him.

I still didn’t think too much into it, knowing we will probably just forget about even meeting each other. I can still remember how surprised I was when just days after getting back to my usual home routine he texted me, announcing that he’s gonna be in my hometown soon and that he would live to meet up with me. And he didn’t disappoint, going for lunch and a walk around the city with me in just a few weeks time. I can still feel how fast my heart was beating when he revealed to me why he was here and how I felt like a complete fool for thinking he was just a normal kid. I couldn’t have been farther off the truth. That was the first day when I could laugh at my own stupidity whole heartedly, as I couldn’t hold back my embarrassed chuckling at hearing him laugh. If someone told me I’ll get the chance to listen to his laugh almost every day in our future, I would have called them crazy for sure.

° ° °

Putting the little note aside onto the bedside table as I sat down on the mattress, laying back still trying to figure out what he could have planned for us. I was just turning a bit to get my head on my pillow, with my hand sliding under it as I usually liked to sleep when my fingers met with something there that felt like paper. Pulling it out my eyes met with another now purple colored post-it, with his handwriting on it, saying ’It’s gonna be just the two of us, don’t stress about it’ and a little kissy face making me chuckle. He knew me too well and this note showed that he really did think about any possibility so he wouldn’t have to be home to get me out of the house. With a sigh I pushed myself off the bed so I could open up the wardrobe and in a way I knew there would be a twist even before I could see inside. Next to all my usual dresses and blouses hanging under the shelves was another black hanger with a white protector fabric encasing the dress it was probably holding up. The note on it was a simple winky face and I took it out with my head shaking at his antics and how I should have known he would get me something to wear.

I laid it onto our bed, opening up the protector’s zipper and my smile grew wider as my eyes caught the deep red colour of the silk that was hiding under it. Seconds later I was already lifting up the hanger, the dress itself following it flowing through the air with such an ease it made you think it was probably made from it with how light it was. When I turned it around my mind was just about to go into panic mode again at how open the backside was, but the note I discovered stuck to it made me take a deep breath and calm down instantly. ’Remember Hockenheim in 2018?’ I read the words slowly and couldn’t help but smile at the memory it brought up in my mind.

° ° °

When Mick invited me to the Hockenheim GP, the last three races of their season, everyone knew it would be a weekend for celebrations as whatever would have happened he was winning the Championship and no one could stop him. His point advantage put him into a position where not even the driver who was in second place could switch him out, even if they won all three races and Mick would miss out on them. Everything seemed relaxed around his part of the team as everyone knew this last weekend was like a celebratory run for them after all the hard work they put into the season.

The first race wasn’t his best ever but then took second place in both the second and third one, securing his title for the season. As soon as he was out of the car it was all about celebrating both his and the team’s performance. I had the widest grin of my life on my face as we watched him step onto the podium receiving his P2 trophy and then later the one for the Driver’s Championship. It took us three times the usual time to get back to the hotel as everyone was taking pictures with him. Even I got one with him, with which I couldn’t hold back from posting about his achievement. It felt like eternity until we were back at the hotel, and the P2 trophy was still in my hand as we entered his room. I was holding it right until he swept me up into a tight hug and I rather placed it onto the coffee table, before I would drop it.

It wasn’t a surprise when after dinner and a couple of drinks we ended up in the bed together with his shirt already off and mine pushed halfway up my torso when I came to my senses. My mind panicked immediately at all the imagined scenarios coming to me, about him leaving after seeing how I actually look. I was always insecure about my whole body, but mainly my back as my skin there was always full of spots and scarring. The thought of him seeing it freaked me out, don’t even start me on thinking about him touching it. Coming back from my thoughts I took in a shaky but deep breath making him glance at me, pushing himself up a little. I just tried kissing him, to get him to continue but there was worry in his eyes and even though he quickly pecked my lips once again he wasn’t getting back to his previous actions.

“ I’m not going any further until you tell me what got you so out of it. ” He stated, still looking me in the eyes and making me gulp. “ What’s the matter? We don’t have to do anything, there’s no musts here. Just tell me what’s wrong, please. ” He asked again, making me just shake my head as I didn’t trust my voice. I felt like his eyes were boring into me so deep he could see my soul.

“ It’s stupid… but I’m just not… not perfect in any way? ” I finally spoke up, making him furrow his brows in confusion as one of his hands came up to my face to get my hair off my cheek. I knew he was trying to get more info out of me.

“ What isn’t perfect? ” He asked like I just told him something stupid, that doesn’t even exist. I debated telling him or just making a run for it and maybe never talking to him again as anxiety made my throat close up for a second.

“ Everything? Mostly my back. ” I answered him in the end, my next blink lasting longer than usual as I needed a second to compose myself. “ It’s just bumpy and gross. ” I added, not really knowing where my sudden courage came from. When my eyes opened up he was still looking at me but then pushed himself up a little, my hands falling onto my stomach from his sides.

“ Turn around. ” He said, making my heart miss the next beat and my eyes widen. “ Please.” He added with a sigh, sending me a calming smile and my body moved on it’s own sitting up before I turned my back to him. “ Can we take this off? ” I heard his voice as two of his fingers came under the material of my shirt. I was about to shake my head but then it ended up as a nod. If I trusted someone it was him.

After helping me pull my t-shirt off he let me lay back down and I turned my head to the side as it was back on the pillow. Like this I could also see him, giving me the possibility to stop him he was about to do something I wouldn’t have liked. He first just left a little kiss on my cheek, making me smile contently and almost forgetting what was happening, before he went down my neck and my back with his lips. My breath was stuck in my throat until his face came back to mine and I forced some air into my lungs.

“ There’s nothing wrong with you, your body, your back or your skin. Yeah? Nothing wrong. ” He told me again, laying back down next to, with his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “ The only thing wrong here is the idiot who made you think you’re any less than perfect. ” He added, kissing me and I felt like I would never be able to separate from him. Lucky I wouldn’t have to for at least the next month.

° ° °

As I took the little slip of paper off my fingers ran over the silky fabric, the delicate little chain catching my sight with the sparkling diamonds following each other for the whole length of it. It was a strange jewelry and took me a second to understand it was deliberately placed at the back and not in the front of it. The image inside my head made me gasp as I imagined how it would look on someone and how it would accentuate their back, the shiny metal catching everyone’s glance. Even though my skin was in it’s best ever state I was still quite conscious about it, and made sure most of the time to wear things that I knew would cover any imperfection of it. I knew that his plan with this was to make sure I finally embraced it, how I should have then even back then.

I fought with myself for a bit but then took the dress off the hanger and laid it down onto the bed. I still had to take a shower and do both my makeup and hair. I stayed with the most minimal amount of makeup, mostly focusing on my eyeliner and mascara with some nude colored lipstick that wasn’t far off the original color of my lips. I didn’t spend lots of time on my hair either, letting it flow freely after going through it with a brush and parting it at the usual place. The last step was getting into the dress and zipping it up on the side. When I felt like I had everything with a last check in the full body mirror I was about to change my mind at my reflection when I noticed one more little note from him. ‘You look perfect, don’t question it. Car waiting for you in front of the building.’ There was the time too, when the car would arrive at ours, which was minutes away and with a last sigh I took a thin blazer from the wardrobe before putting on my heels and leaving the house. I locked the door, making sure I won’t be able to get back inside easily, so I couldn’t change my mind.

I didn’t even have to wait a minute longer for a car to park down in front of the exit and I got in without a question when the driver called out my name. I wasn’t even anxious anymore when he restarted the engine, more like excited. So much I felt like I couldn’t sit through our drive. We were waiting at a red light and from my seat I could see the park, which was Mick’s and my favourite place for morning runs or even picnics, making me reach up to my neck, my fingers immediately wrapping around the little pendant that was hanging there on a delicate gold chain.

I remember seeing him crashing into a tyre wall and waiting for him to finally confirm that he was alright. It was the first time since I started watching the races that I saw him getting so close to being hurt and I wasn’t looking forward to any more of these. He probably knew that I would be a bit upset, worried about his well being after realising how dangerous their job actually was. It was just two days later when we were already home and he gave me a little box. It contained a medium sized pendant, quite similar to his. I knew his was from his family, to bring luck to him and I hoped mine would bring some more luck not even just to me but him too. From the moment I put it on, I never took it off again for longer than an hour.

“ We’re here. ” The driver’s voice made me blink away the memory that came up for me, making me turn my head towards him. “ He’s waiting. ” He added with a smile, pointing towards the entrance of the little park that I knew so well.

I quickly thanked him for getting me here before leaving the vehicle and going towards the open gates. We usually just walked by this place and I always found it astonishing as it looked like a fairy land with the lightning all around the place and the pagodas, where people could just sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee or tea with some desserts. However, now it was empty, and the only thing that I could hear was soft music playing in one of the small buildings. Having no clue about where I should go my only hope was following the sound to one of the more hidden pagodas, that was lit up outside even more than the others. I was getting confused and almost giving up when he finally stood up and I could let out a relieved sigh. There was a huge grin on his face, making me smile too although I felt a little embarrassed even though it was only him standing in front of me. I knew he would never give me a reason to feel bad about myself or what I was wearing.

“ You look stunning. ” He came up to me, pulling me into a hug and leaving a kiss on my lips. “ I’m really happy you stayed with the dress. ” He added, making me smile up at him as I initiated another kiss between us, before I let him lead me into the little building.

“ Thank you. This is fabulous as well. I knew it was beautiful, but never thought it’s this cozy. ” I looked around again, not even paying too much attention to him, completely missing him taking my blazer off my shoulder so he could hang it on the wall next to his one.

“ I've wanted to take you here since we first saw it. It was just never the perfect timing. ” He let out a sigh, his hand coming up to my back and it sent a shiver down my spine as the jewelry’s colder chain got in contact with my skin. I knew he saw and maybe even felt it, but never commented on it, deeming it a normal reaction.

“ It would have made it the perfect timing. ” I shrugged a little, sitting down on the chair he pulled out for me, before sitting down opposite me. “ Other than it being too cold to just sit around, I can’t really think about anything that would make me wanna leave early. ” I looked around again. My eyes followed the fairy lights’ cable running all around us and up a tree next to the pagoda.

Having the place for ourselves made it even more magical than how it would normally feel like. Even though we weren’t served by a waitress he had everything we could need, next to the table. He prepared sandwiches with little fruit salads and also our favourite drink. I’m sure we would be having coffee if we were here in the morning, but I also knew we would never sleep if we got caffeine in our systems now. From the outside it probably looked funny as we ate the sandwiches while wearing clothes that would fit into the poshest restaurants but I wouldn’t have changed one bit about tonight. Everything was part of what when considered a perfect date, even if it wouldn’t mean the same for another couple. Everyone’s taste is different and that’s what made it even better, that I could see how much Mick knew my favourite details. I still couldn’t believe what I did to deserve the life I had now and all the changes Mick brought into it by being next to me whenever I would need him and the support.

I was about to thank him for everything, that he made this happen, when he pulled his phone out and I could see as he opened up his camera started recording a video. Instead of lifting it up to record us, he propped it up on the table in a way that it would take in the space next to our pagoda, before standing up and going to the music player that controlled the whole system around the garden. I followed him with my eyes, curiously waiting to hear the song he would choose. I recognised it just two seconds into the start of it, making me not even think about it when he reached out his hand towards me. It was our song, however cliche that is, that we danced to in Hawaii, at the beach party that we attended on the last day of my holiday. Back then I thought we would never ever meet again in person, thought we would be parting ways forever as I had to leave with my friends. It would have been a perfect last memory for the few weeks we spent there, but it became even more magical when there was a text waiting for me to turn on my phone that turned into us talking on the phone constantly and then meeting again in my home town just a few months later.

Even though neither of us was a good dancer we made it work, swaying left and right to the slow beats of the song with my arms around his neck and his circling my hips and resting on the small of my back. I let my eyes close and my head slowly fall forward until my forehead was resting on his shoulder. I felt as he rested his head on mine for a second before his lips left a kiss on my jaw and then neck, followed by several on the skin of my shoulder.

“ This is perfect. ” I sighed out, and I was sure my mum would tease me about how I was beaming with a smile so wide the Cheshire cat could be jealous. I wasn’t ready for it to end and was glad of his choice when the song restarted, meaning the silence didn’t break the moment.

“ What do you think about making our forever this perfect? ” I felt his breath on my neck from his whispering, and I nodded with a smile, not thinking much of it. It was when he stepped back a little and I could see the little box in his hand when my hand came up to cover my surprised expression. “ I know you never thought a silly holiday with friends would end with something like this, but I’m planning on making that just one of the things that worked out quite well in our life. Will you be my partner in making everything better and marry me? ” He asked, already on one knee and opening up the top of the box, revealing a ring that was shining in the light coming from the lanterns and fairy lights.

The only thing I could remember after that was him standing next to me again, the both of us enveloped in a hug while I could already feel the comforting weight of the ring on my finger. The song was still flowing through the air around us, making me feel like I was part of the imaginary world built up inside my head, that I thought would never be my reality. I couldn’t wrap my mind around all the images and thoughts that were running around my head about our future, but feeling his embrace around my body I knew it would all workout. I already had him and that was everything I needed to live my life happy. Or should I say our life now?

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