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thekinkyleopard · 27 days

Text

By Moonlight

A Zer0nyx Canon Snz Fic

⚠️Content Warning⚠️

Snz Fic, Romantic Smut, Fluff, Angst

Description: Zeroh comes back from a particularly heavy crossing and just wants to be seen for once. Amara hints at the reaper, he may not be alone. But with his photic allergies, will it ruin the mood, or lighten it?

Author’s Notes: Needed to poop something new out for these fucking CUTIES!!!! Hope you all enjoy <3 @aller-geez owns Zeroh, Amara and did the art!

Zeroh wandered back into the cemetery that doubled as a work space and home, feeling heavier than usual. Being a Reaper, definitely had it’s downsides, and often left him feeling more hollow than when he left.

Amara sensed Zeroh's heavy heart the moment he stepped into the cemetery, her shiny ghostly black feathers ruffling in concern. She perched on a weathered headstone, tilting her head as she watched him with beady white eyes. Popping in between each stone he passed by to keep with the reaper’s stride. Zeroh moved slowly among the tombstones, his steps heavy with the weight of the recent crossing he had assisted over the veil. The image of the young man’s face haunted him, so full of innocence and light extinguished far too soon. He had sacrificed himself for a lover. A lover. Something he knew the pain of losing but could barely remember the happiness of having.

As he reached a secluded corner of the cemetery where an ancient weeping willow stood guard over forgotten graves, Zeroh sank to his knees. He let himself metaphorically melt into the softened grass that had overgrown the many flattened and forgetten stones of the very distant past. “What am I to do, Miss Lady? How might I carry the weight of all this grief, and still…move forward?” he sighed, the sound escaped his lips in a long, drawn-out exhale, the sound of defeat and weariness. The rustling of leaves in the ancient willow tree seemed to echo his sigh, a melancholy harmony. The crow, warping between the seen and unknown veils finally finding a comfortable space upon his shoulder. She cawed gently, pressing her body suggestively into his neck, earning an eyeroll for a response. “That seems like a lot to press upon the poor spirit, does it not?”

The bird fluffed, and cawed. Bossy little thing. He sighed with frustration, absentmindedly drawing an endless circle in the dirt of the grounds. “Impossible, we hardly speak, I can’t imagine they’d want anything to do with me and my woes, don’t be ridiculous,” scoffing at the insistent creature. Amara’s shadow grew in size and then dramatically exploded into many smaller shadows that melded into the grass around him. “My goodness with the theatrics tonight,” O shook his head with an amused chuckle escaping his lips. “And what if you’re wrong? Hm? Would the possible rejection be worth the risk? I should just keep it all to myself…what would you know hm?” furrowing his eyebrows and sticking his tongue out at her.

The bird paused, and looked at Zeroh that almost mimicked the exact expression of “You have got to be kidding me, right?”

“Im not kidding! And you shouldnt be either…expressing myself isn’t easy, you know this Miss lady,” crossing his arms over his chest and staring at her knowingly. She shrugged her little bird shoulders poofing away and then back again in the tree above him, her shape taking form of the small ghost that was the topic of conversation causing the reaper to quickly look away, if a blush could spread across his face, it would have. “Regardless!…how do you know I’m not opening myself up to being completely humiliated?” the bird rolled her glowing solid white orbs, clearly there was something she knew that was unbeknownst to the Reaper, and would remain so should he chicken out.

Zeroh leaned indecisively against the trunk of the tree. The willow seemed to sway gently in the night breeze, as if whispering secrets to the shadows that danced around the Reaper. He let out a heavy sigh, his thoughts swirling with doubt and vulnerability. The ghostly figure of Amara perched on a branch above him, her eyes fixed on him with a mixture of impatience and understanding. She let out a soft caw, and quickly disappeared again, only to reappear in a cloud of vapor around him, pushing into his side. It was almost as if she was directing him, shoveling him into the right decision. “Alright! Alright…” he put up his hands defensively as he refused to fight against her. “I’ll go…I’ll, try…” he sighs nervously.

O took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversations that would possibly lay ahead. With a newfound resolve, he stood up straight and brushed off his dark cloak, his eyes focused on the distant horizon where the boundary between the living world and the realm of the dead blurred. Amara's ghostly form flitted around him in a dance of encouragement, her presence a comforting reminder that he was not alone in his struggles.

As he made his way through the cemetery and into the night, Zeroh felt a sense of purpose rekindle within him. The weight of grief still lingered, but now there was a glimmer of hope shining through the darkness. With each step he took towards the unknown, he felt a renewed strength building within him, fueled by the support of an unlikely companion. “You’re certain this is a good choice to make?” He spoke to the raven that flittered in and out of the veil between Zeroh’s steps closer to the part of the graveyard he knew Onyx would be attending. She cawed in response, strongly and certainly, the reaper could only groan with anxiety. As they closed in, spotting the apparition placing bouquets of flowers at empty gravestones, Amara vanished, allowing Zeroh to take the next few steps ahead, on his own.

“H-…” he cleared his throat. “Hey, Yixxy…how’s it…tonight?” What even are words? The reaper thought to himself already feeling the intense urge to run away and avoid this conversation at all costs, but in the distance of his peripheral vision, he could see a set of ominously glowing, round orbs, glaring at him. Watching him. He knew there was no avoiding at least, hanging out with the spiritual. The smaller in stature, quickly turned around, spooked as they jumped out their skin.

“OH! Zeroh!” they gasped grasping at their chest “I- I didn’t hear you come over!” Onyx stuttered, nearly dropping the bouquet they were holding. Their normally shadowy face seemed to flush with a faint hue of color, giving their ghostly features an almost lifelike appearance in the muted moonlight.

Zeroh couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the spiritual’s sudden surprise, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I apologize for startling you,” he began, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I hope I’m not intruding. I see you’re paying your respects,”

Onyx nodded slowly, their glowing eyes flickering with a mixture of emotions. “Yes, just… making sure everyone has a little something,” they replied softly, their voice carrying a wistful tone. “It’s comforting in a way, being here to make sure no one goes forgotten,” the little ghost had taken it upon themselves to make sure that old, forgotten, and long abandoned graves were balanced out from the graves that simply had too many. There had been some complaints but, since there was no one living to blame, there was no solutions to be had.

Zeroh nodded in understanding, his own gaze drifting to the gravestones surrounding them. The cemetery felt peaceful and eerie at the same time, the air growing stale between them. Onyx tilted their head ever so slightly before their voice broke the silence. “Was there something you wanted to say, O?” It wasnt too often they found themselves in conversation, a lot of the moments between them were silent passings through the yard, or quietly tending the stones together. Neither of them having the nerve to open up.

Earnestly, Onyx admired the Reaper, being able to be the helping hand that escorts the living into the realm of the dead. The ghost thought of him as some what of a hero, not only for that but for the kindness of allowing him to come along with him. He was so sure of himself, knew his place, his role, and was an absolutely unreplaceable source in this universe. Nothing like themselves who could hardly decide what to wear half the time. The two of them stood awkwardly, silently, Zeroh trying to muster up the courage to say something, anything. Onyx wondering if maybe, they overstepped. The overthinking was overwhelming between them both and the only thing that could break them out was the sound of an exasperated and irritated “CAW!!!” In the distance, Zeroh cleared his throat and scratched the back of his neck.

“I…was wondering….” the feeling of wanting to bail growing within the ethereal almost consumed him, but his white eyes flashed back over to the flaring bird, and realized he would much rather not face her wrath. “If you wanted to walk with me? I…had a rough day and,” this time Zeroh looked down, his eyebrows furrowed slightly and then he took a deep breath, exhaled and finished his thought. “Could use the company…” he finally looked back up, a few short inches, and met the look of a very intrigued little spirit.

Onyx's eyes softened at Zeroh's hesitant request, a flicker of understanding passing between them. They nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of their translucent lips. "Of course, Z. I'd be more than happy to accompany you," they replied, their voice echoing softly in the quiet night air. The Reaper softened. Almost like a very lightweight had been lifted.

As they began to walk together through the cemetery, the atmosphere seemed to shift around them. The shadows cast by the slowly illuminating moonlight appeared less menacing, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of fresh blooms from the many assorted flowers growing and presented within the graveyard. Amara, flew overhead silently back and forth between the veil, her wings beating rhythmically but still quietly as she followed them through the maze of headstones and monuments.

Zeroh felt a sense of peace settle over him as he walked side by side with Onyx, the weight of his sorrow easing with each step. “So…what’s on your shoulders?” Yix asked him, suddenly taking the reaper off guard from the once silent night they were sharing.

“On my shoulders?” He asked quizzically, looking over at the other’s almost absent gaze.

“You slump…every time you return from a particularly heavy crossing…your shoulders, they slump, and I can tell you’re carrying a weight that once wasn’t there,” Zeroh’s eyes almost widened, and this action caused the little spirit to suddenly look away, a flush would be presented across their face, should they have had any blood to produce such. The Reaper was just shocked. To be seen. To be known so intimately, without so much of a word needing to be said? It was almost remarkable. He snorted, almost solemnly through his nostrils.

“That obvious then, hm?” two sets of pale colored eyes met, in a moment of sincerity they both stopped walking, and just stood there for a moment. Eventually, Yix nodded in agreement, their expression soft and understanding.

"It's not just your shoulders that carry the weight, Zeroh. It's in your eyes, in the way you move through the world. I may not know the full extent of your burdens, but I can see that…they are heavy," Their words hung between them in the cool night air, a quiet acknowledgment of the reaper's struggles.

Zeroh was silent for a passing second, his feet sturdy and deliberate as he processed Yix's observation. "I... I appreciate your insight," he finally murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of gratitude and vulnerability. "It's been a long time since someone has truly seen me…well besides Amara but, there once was another that did…” he smiled gently looking up to see the moon peaking suspiciously behind the trees, he felt a slight tingle behind his sinuses, but took a deep breath in and looked back over at Onyx. Who was looking at him in an almost observant type of way, there was a tension between them neither could place.

Ony smiled sympathetically, finally finding the words to address the delicate topic at hand. It was clear that the Reaper was still deeply affected by it. "Whoever they were, they must have been incredibly special," they said softly, trying to provide comfort in their tone.

Zeroh's smile faltered slightly at the mention of ‘special’, not to the fault of the spirit, but O thought way more of his past lover as far superior to ‘special’. A flicker of pain crossing his face before he quickly masked it. He nodded, his gaze drifting towards a distant headstone as memories threatened to resurface. "Yes, they were...special indeed," he replied quietly, his voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. Onyx could sense the weight of unspoken emotions hanging in the air between them, an invisible barrier that kept Zeroh guarded despite their growing closeness.

He looked away, the silence between them stagnant and almost slightly awkward, neither knowing how to proceed. Amara appeared off in the visage of Z’s viewing vicinity, and she gave him a look, a knowing look, one Zeroh couldn’t mistake for any other. He knew what she was telling him, and it was to be vulnerable, to open up again, but what if he couldnt? What if it was too late for any of that, and his only chance of it was turned to dust many years previously? Not to mention how presumptuous of him to assume this young soul would want or need anything from him. He was spiraling, his mind swirling in a thousand and one different ways and the bird could see it from a million miles away.

But before Zeroh could retreat further into his thoughts, Onyx reached out a hand and gently placed it on the reaper's shoulder, which shocked him, he hadnt been touched in so long. Yet the gesture was still somehow comforting and grounded him in the present moment. Their touch was surprisingly comforting, sending a shiver down his long form. "Zeroh, you don't have to carry your burdens alone," the spirit spoke softly, their voice filled with empathy. "Sometimes sharing the weight can make it lighter,"

Zeroh met Onyx's gaze, his eyes searching for any signs of insincerity but finding only genuine care reflected back at him. The reaper felt a knot loosen in his chest, a sense of relief washing over him at the thought of not having to bear everything by himself, and that maybe there was something, safe, here.

"I... I suppose I could try," Zeroh whispered, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the night. "It's been so long since I've let anyone in…his name was Sebastian…and I dont think I’ve said his name in…half a decade,” he scoffed, feeling guilty in the most strange way. They each took a seat upon a nearby fallen tree, one that had been neglected to be removed but wasnt causing any issues rotting across graves, so Zeroh felt no need to remove it. Instead they both took a seat under the slow raising moonlight, as the light started to glow brighter, it reflected off the water, right into Z’s sensitive eyes. He shook his head, he exhaled sharply through his nostrils and hovered a gloved hand over his eyes to shield himself. Clearing his throat and trying to shove the strange sensitive sensations that momentarily shook him.

“Anyways…it was a long time ago...I fell…for someone, and his name was Sebastian,” he paused trying his best to not let the brightening light slowly creeping in, ruin the vulnerability of this moment. “He was, so kind, and fun…he made everything seem so much easier than it was…” his face turned up into a softened smile, one that only spread half way across his lips. Onyx listened intently as Zeroh spoke of the man, the name lingering in the air like a bittersweet melody. They could feel the weight of nostalgia and longing in Z's words, the ache of old wounds reopening in the quiet of the night. The reaper's vulnerability touched something deep within Onyx's ethereal core, stirring memories long forgotten in the shadowed corners of their consciousness.

As Zeroh's voice trailed off, lost in the echoes of memory, a soft sigh escaped Onyx's lips. They reached out a hand to gently grasp Zeroh's, offering silent support and understanding. "Sebastian must have meant a great deal to you," the spirit murmured, their tone soft and never losing its kindness. O nodded solemnly in response, looking over at the many graves around them, mindlessly scanning the words but paying no real mind to the context of them.

"He certainly meant more than a great deal...he was my light in the darkness, my anchor when I needed stability…in the strangest ways..” he hesitated, his throat already begging to swallow the words he wished so badly to speak. In the distance again, above him this time, within the trees, the glowing, menacing set of eyes that threatened him in the darkness. That insistent bird…he cursed her for her bossy nature, but he knew she was right, he could use another being like Onyx around, to confide in, to, seek companionship with. “I feel, so closely to you..in the uhm,” he cleared his throat. “Same, manner of way…you’re soothing…and I…” he looked down at their hands, inches apart, so carelessly rested on the wood. “Really, rather enjoy…your uhm…” now finding the courage to look up, they met eyes, Onyx felt like they were holding in the longest breath of air, not that, breathing was terribly necessary. “Company…your presence…the things you say…you’re,” taking a deep, nervous lungful of air in and letting it out loudly. he nodded. “Incredible,” finishing the final sentence to his long drawn out thought.

To his amazement, Onyx sat the whole way through and not once lost their patience nor did their eyes glaze over in boredom. This was going surprisingly well for him, if he had to have a say.

“Wow..I’m…honored, to hold such a valuable space, Zeroh, I’m..” finding themselves at an almost true loss for words. “Immensely grateful…for you…and Amara, and everything…you, have no idea, what you’ve done for me,” They each felt a slight flutter within the pit of their stomachs, something awakening inside them that neither of them had a clue what to do with. O knowing the feeling, but too terrified to really touch it. Or Onyx. “You are…incredibly special, Zeroh,”

The Reaper’s blackened heart swelled at the words spoken by the other so freely, feeling a warmth he had almost forgotten existed for so long. The weight of his past seemed to momentarily lift as he gazed into Onyx's eyes, seeing a reflection of compassion and acceptance that he had been yearning for. A sense of connection blossomed between them, fragile yet profound in its sincerity. As the moonlight bathed them in its gentle glow, O found himself lowering his hand to reach out, but only to pull his fingers back into his own lap, Yixxy noticed, but stayed quiet.

"I... I never thought I would find someone who could understand me like you do, Onyx," Zeroh confessed, his voice steady yet filled with sensitivity. "Your presence brings me a kind of peace I thought was lost to me forever,” He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing, "I want to thank you for being here with me, for listening and caring in a way that no one else has…I feel, lighter, somehow,” he laughed, silently, through his nostrils but found himself sniffling quickly after, shaking his head gently. The emanating light starting to wear him down thin. His throat was itching and the canal of his nose was swelling slowly, eyes watering as he pushed up a hand to wipe the collective black liquid from his ducts. “Sorry…the moon is bright tonight…” he confessed as he fought his oncoming symptoms.

Onyx's ethereal form seemed to shimmer with a newfound light that was beaming from inside him. This being, this, Reaper, was grateful for them? They hadn’t had someone grateful for them, in, centuries. Ony smiled. They reached up a gentle, delicate hand and as it went from transparent to solid, slowly, they placed it under Zeroh’s eyes, using the pad of their thumb to wipe an escaped tear. “You truly are remarkable…” Their response was a gentle whisper, filled with warmth and sincerity. It was all they could manage to utter, their voice carrying a soothing tone that enveloped him like a warm hug.

Despite Zeroh being well aware of Onyx's current state, he couldn't help but gasp and feel a jolt run through his body when the ghost placed their hand on his face. He froze, his expression filled with worry as he scanned Onyx for any signs of pain or uncertainty. Yet, they were still there, smiling at him without a doubt. Letting out a sigh of relief, Zeroh reached up to place his hand on top of theirs. They locked eyes before the Reaper finally spoke up again. "I- I really want to kiss you," he started, but then quickly looked away, afraid of what he might see in Onyx's eyes. "But I'm scared,”

Onyx felt a wave of emotions crash over them at Zeroh's confession. The vulnerability and rawness in his voice tugged at their very essence, stirring feelings they had long forgotten. As Zeroh hesitated, Onyx reached up to gently cup his cheek, their touch cool yet comforting against his lonely skin.

"You don't have to be afraid," they whispered softly, their eyes filled with understanding and a glimmer of something more. "I feel it too...the connection…" Onyx leaned in closer, almost purely off instinct, their breath mingling with his as they closed the gap between them, pressing their lips against his in a tender kiss.

Time seemed to stand still as they lost themselves in the moment, a rush of feelings swirling within them both. It was a kiss filled with unspoken words and shared longing, a bridge between two souls reaching out for solace and understanding. And as they pulled away, Zeroh felt a warmth spreading through him, a sense of peace and belonging he hadn't felt in ages. Onyx's presence enveloped him in a comforting embrace, the weight of his pain momentarily lifted by the connection they shared.

As they gazed into each other's eyes, Zeroh felt a flicker of hope ignite within him, a light in the darkness that he thought had long been snuffed.

"I... I don't know what to say," the Reaper murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he searched Onyx's eyes for reassurance. The ghostly figure before him emanated a sense of calm and acceptance that washed over him like a soothing balm.

They smiled softly, their eyes reflecting understanding and warmth. "You don't have to say anything," they replied kindly, their hand falling off Zeroh's cheek, only to lay carefully on the ethereal’s hand that was located upon his knee. "Just know that you're not alone in this journey, not anymore,” there were no more words that could be spoken between the two as they just stared at each other in awe, but slowly the light grew brighter, the urges within O were growing impossible to ignore, and he chuffed unexpectedly.

A sense of urgency gripped Zeroh as he felt the familiar tingling in his skin, a warning sign that the moonlight was becoming too intense for his photic allergies to handle. Panic surged through him as he tried to preserve this precious moment with Onyx, to bask in their connection a little longer. But the bright light of the moon crept closer, casting its silvery glow around them, threatening to shatter the fragile peace they had found.

Onyx sensed Zeroh's distress and their smile faltered, replaced by a look of concern. They could see the telltale signs of his struggle against the moonlight, the way his skin prickled and his breath quickened. Unsure of what to do, the ghost just simply sat there, he’d seen this a few times but, every time those..sounds escaped O, the spirit would find themselves retreating. Completely and utterly embarrassed by their body’s natural reaction to it. However, if he ran now, he risked insulting the Reaper or worse, hurting his feelings in the manner of a wrong assumption. They each were in a pickle of sorts.

Zeroh could feel the tension in the air, the impending danger of his condition flaring up. Despite his internal struggle, he couldn't bear to see Onyx's expression shift from gentle understanding to worry. The Reaper knew it was too late to escape it, and they’d both just have to get through it. “I think….” he snorted, trying to desperately push the feeling out of his face, but to no avail. “I’m gonna sneeze…” it came out in a gasp, the moonlight now shining down on him with full force. The feeling crawled down his nose like tv static, or a fizzy drink, and it exploded through his chest. “Huh’…HH’aHTCHh’iew!” into the crook of his elbow, trying to avoid a mess across his new found, crush? Despite having shared an intimate moment, the reaper certainly wasnt concerned with labels as his face felt like it was tingling relentlessly.

Onyx on the other hand, was stone cold solid, eyes widened almost like a deer caught in a set of headlights. If they could blush, they would be, brightly, across every surface of their skin he took a deep, slow, exhale out, sucking their lower lip in between two clenching rows of teeth. ‘What the hell is wrong with me ?’ they thought almost worriedly to themselves as their whole body felt like it was suddenly, hot.

It was in that moment, as Zeroh fought against the uncontrollable urge to sneeze under the moonlight, that Onyx felt a shift within themselves. The sight of Zeroh's struggle sparked something deep inside them, igniting a fire that they had never experienced before. As Onyx watched the Reaper battle his senses, a strange fluttering sensation stirred in their chest, sending shivers down their spine. “Heh’TSSCHT! Huh’TSSSCH!” two more he was regrettably unable to stop as a fine mist spread across his arm.

The light from the moon seemed to caress Zeroh's features, highlighting the delicate lines of his face, the tear stains on his cheeks, the redness in his nose as he wiped, and the vulnerability in his eyes. Onyx couldn't tear their gaze away, captivated by the rawness of the moment and the intimacy that hung between them like a veil.

With each gasp and hitch in Zeroh's breath, Onyx felt their own pulse quicken in response. The heat that had been building within them now roared to life, consuming their senses with a newfound desire that left them reeling. Onyx cleared their throat. “A-Are you okay? Do you uh…do you…shit,” they lost their train of thought. O looking over at the spirit with confusion behind his own gaze. What was this? The little ghost was never this flustered.

“I’b…I..hh—HUH’AHTSSCHHHh’iew!….fibe…” trying to play it off he huffed almost with frustration at himself, ruining a perfectly romantic evening with his stupid allergies, he turned away. “I'b so soddy…” shaking his head back and forth. “SndFf…” trying so hard to keep himself cleared of any further mess. Black ooze slowly dripping out from his nostrils as he kept wiping it away.

“N-No! D-Don’t be sorry it’s uhm…really,” Onyx’s hands were practically shaking, knees buckling under the weight of sudden arousal. “It’s fine,” clearing their own throat awkwardly, the reaper couldn’t help but notice how, squirrely, the other suddenly became and stepped closer to the apparition.

“Are you alrighd? You seem…upsed,” the stuffed up way that the reaper responded was only adding to Ony’s discomfort, he was so attractive it almost made them crazy, they took in a deep breath and tried to be honest, like the other had been so graciously.

“I’m not..I’m not sure it’s just,” looking away they absentmindedly started twirling a lock of their hair, nervous. “The way that sounded…it’s almost as if..…I enjoy it, like, more than I should..” the spirit’s voice was almost an embarrassed mumble. Completely and totally thrown off by the way they felt in regards to their companion’s allergy afflictions.

As Onyx confessed their unexpected situation, Zeroh turned back to face them, his own confusion mirroring the ghost's turmoil. The air between them crackled with unuttered words and untouched emotions, each trying to make sense of the tangled mess that had woven itself between their souls. Zeroh took a hesitant step forward, closing the distance between them until they were mere inches apart.

His heart pounded in his chest as he reached out a trembling hand to cup Onyx's cheek, his touch feather-light against their ethereal skin. "Can I help, somehow?" he asked tenderly, his voice barely audible in the still night air.

Onyx's eyes widened in surprise, the flickering moonlight casting shadows across their face as they processed Zeroh's confession. A myriad of emotions played across their features - uncertainty, longing, and a spark of something more sultry. Yix took a deep breath and shrugged, attempting to look away again before getting lost in the trance of the other being’s lips that were so close. “I-I’m not sure…”

“Would you like me to do it again…?” O asked curiously, tilting the other’s gaze back up to his own with a thin, long index finger.

The ghost felt a rush of conflicting emotions - desire mingled with uncertainty, curiosity twined with fear. As they met Zeroh's gaze, a silent understanding passed between them, a connection stronger than any words could convey.

With a shaky exhale, Onyx found themselves leaning into Zeroh's touch, the sensation sending shivers down their spine. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as they inched closer together, drawn by an invisible thread of fate that bound their souls as one.

Zeroh's eyes held a mixture of tenderness and longing as he leaned in slowly, his breath mingling with Onyx's in the space between them. Their lips brushed together in a tentative kiss, soft and hesitant yet filled with passion still, though, far too short. O pulled away and smiled sweetly. “Well?”

Onyx felt nothing short of dizzy as their lips separated once again, such gentle, tender and yet romantic gestures, so simple, that almost made the ghost feel like they’d crossed over. Shyly, with a bite of their lip they nodded gently, matching the curious, yet heated gaze of the other’s.

Zeroh smirked, nodding in response before standing up straight again, and looking now directly into the moonlight. “Okay…Here we go…” he almost felt rather silly, what if this wasn’t actually what caused the little ghost to be excited? What if he was humiliating himself? He shook it off, unable to really pay focus to the thought as the moon shining into his direct irises was making them water, and itch.

The Reaper hitched, his whole body tensing as he struggled against the bright light that shone in front of him. His jaw opened slightly, as a tickle began to overwhelm him. "H-HH..." he sputtered, trying to contain himself. But the sensation was too strong, and soon he was fighting against it with all his might. "HH'TTSSChh'uu! hh-TSSCCHHHIEW!" The sneezes came out forcefully and without warning, like a cannonball being fired from its barrel. The sound echoed through the air, leaving behind a faint ring that seemed to linger for just a moment longer.

Onyx watched with a mix of awe and desire as Zeroh succumbed to another powerful fit under the moonlit sky. The ghost felt a surge of heat rush through them, specifically to their loins, a particular feeling they were definitely not used to. Their ethereal form tingling with anticipation at the sight before them. While Zeroh recovered from his sneezing, sniffling and rubbing at his nose to clear himself of any blackened mess, he turned to Onyx with a sheepish smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Did you uh…did you enjoy that?" Zeroh asked, nervously, tucking a loose strand of white hair behind his ear, his voice filled with a mix of amusement and uncertainty.

Onyx couldn't help but be drawn in by the Reaper's charm, their heart fluttering in their chest as they gazed into his warm eyes. "I uh….," Onyx clears their throat, nodding and smiling softly, “I very much did…a lot actually…something about the crinkle of your nose and the desperation behind each gasp..” almost a bit too descript with a hint of longing in their tone.

The tension between them crackled like electricity in the air, the unspoken words hanging between them like a delicate thread waiting to be pulled taut. Zeroh took another step closer to Onyx, closing the gap between them yet again. “So then…SnDfF..would you like to…retire…? There’s a nearby mausoleum we could, disappear too…yet to be occupied by any deceased,” The Reaper made it sound more like a sales pitch than a romantic night in.

Onyx's breath hitched at Zeroh's suggestive words, their cheeks flushing a faint shade of blue as desire pooled in their core, it was rather uncomfortable for someone who hadn’t really ever felt sexual attraction before, or ever. Yet, the ghost nodded eagerly, their translucent form shimmering with anticipation. Without another word, they took Zeroh's hand in theirs, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through both of them.

Together, they vanished into the night, their forms merging seamlessly as they made their way to the abandoned mausoleum. The air crackled with a newfound energy, charged with the unspoken certainty that hung between them like a veil of silk.

As they stepped into the dimly lit chamber of the mausoleum, Onyx turned to face Zeroh, their eyes alight with hunger and longing. They hopped up onto the empty coffin that was there in display, spreading their legs just gently to welcome Zeroh’s form. “Cozy,” they giggled shyly, and the reaper couldn’t help but return with a tender smile. “You know…” as O stepped closer, limiting the space between the two as he got comfortable between the other’s knees, gently he set his palms on each of the apparition’s thighs, a softened grip. “I have never, desired to be touched…and for the first time, I do..and it’s when I’m dead…” laughing, they shook their head, pale locks moving in slow wisps, “how lucky that I seemed to be shacking up with the one…being, that probably can, actually…touch me,” O chuckled at this, nodding his head in agreement before parting his lips to speak, fingers gripping tightly to the spirit’s thighs for emphasis.

“You’re not wrong…I do have that fairly helpful gift…” his response was breathy, almost like he was holding back something himself. Onyx reached down and began to slowly strip the Reaper of their protective gloves, he pulled his hands back and looked at the ghost almost in shock.

“You don’t need them…let me feel your hands on me…” Onyx was gentle in their disposition, returning back to grip the gloves at their hems as O settled them back down in between them, and trusted the little apparition instead of allowing fear to drive him.

The reaper’s hands trembled slightly as he allowed Onyx to remove his gloves, revealing blackened, slender fingers that looked almost fragile in the dim light of the mausoleum. A myriad of emotions flickered through his eyes - vulnerability, desire, fear. He hesitated for a moment before tentatively reaching out to touch Onyx's ethereal form, experimentally running them up the hem of the ghost’s sweater. His fingertips grazing their translucent skin with a feather-light touch.

A gasp escaped Onyx's lips at the sensation of Zeroh's touch was suddenly against their cool, incorporeal form. Amazed by the feeling, for both of them it had been entirely too long. The contrast was electrifying, sending a wave of pleasure coursing through them. They arched into his touch, craving more of the intimacy that seemed to spark between them like a wildfire. “Is…Is this okay? Are you okay?” The Reaper asked nervously, looking up at the other, while fingers continued to gently dance across their chest.

“N-No…It’s really…good, don’t…don’t stop, Zeroh,” his name came out like a gasp against their lips and O felt a rush of heat pool in his stomach at Onyx's reaction, a newfound boldness surging through him as he leaned in closer, capturing Onyx's lips in a loving kiss. The ghost melted into the other, sparks flying between them and suddenly there was a mess of hands, exploring, touching, simply touching. Gods it had been so long, they could practically spend the entire night just doing this.

Their lips meshed together in a passionate dance, mouths moving in sync as Onyx’s hands trailed to the hem of the Reaper’s torn up sweater. “Are you sure…?” they pulled apart enough to speak again, Zeroh needing a constant reassurance his new found lover wasn’t hurting, afraid or worse, dying. Onyx nodded as they began to peel themselves out of their shirt, undoing their pants, and Zeroh slowly followed suit. O stood there, shoveled between the ghost’s legs, standing in his underwear, as Onyx sat there in theirs. Slowly, carefully, the Reaper watched as his own hands slid up the other’s soft, solid body, they were transparent, but still so very much here and real and tangible. Unaffected by the curse his touch held. He smiled, now looking up at the other, who returned the gesture.

“Do you think you can…get out another?” the ghost asked nervously, in a whisper of words that almost didn’t escape them. The Reaper bit his lower lip, trying to hold back another chuckle, worried he would embarrass the poor thing, but truthfully he just found them so entirely adorable.

“How could I say no?” nodding before looking out the only window of the mausoleum and making contact with the brightening moonlight yet again, this time having to put effort behind it as he scooched closer to Onyx, bare chests touching, Zeroh’s head comfortably hovering over top the other’s, Onyx was met with a strong chest. They looked up, resting their chin upon it to witness the happenings above their head.

The reaper’s head tilted back, his mouth fell open and out it came. “Hh’TTSsCh’uu! Huh’Tssch’hHIEW!” his whole form flexed and clenched around Onyx, the ghost had taken a hold of each of O’s biceps, gripping them tightly to feel them constrict as he blew. The little ghost shuddered with delight, the sounds of sneeze echoing inside their brain chamber, rattling around like soon to be rot that would consume them. A fine mist fell behind them, tickling and trickling down Yix’s back.

“Wow…” was all the little ghost could muster up, a smile breaking out on their face as they leaned back against the coffin, reveling in the innocent intimacy of the moment. Zeroh chuckled softly at Onyx's reaction, following closely by climbing on top of them, a warmth spreading through him at the sight of the ghost's genuine enjoyment. He settled over the spirit, drinking in their form, both of them now in various states of undress but feeling more connected than ever before. The moonlight bathed them in a soft glow, casting shadows that danced across their intertwined forms.

Zeroh's heart swelled with a mixture of emotions as he gazed down at Onyx, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. The air was charged with electricity, a palpable tension that seemed to draw them closer together. As their eyes met in the dim light of the crypt, Zeroh felt a surge of lust that had long been dormant inside him.

Without a word, he lowered his head, capturing Onyx's lips in a fevered kiss that spoke of longing and passion. The ghost responded eagerly, their hands roaming over Zeroh's body with a hunger that matched his own. In that instant, all doubts and fears melted away, leaving only the raw, unbridled need that pulsed between them.

Their bodies moved together in a seamless dance of desperate need, each touch sending sparks flying through the air. Zeroh's hands trailed down Onyx's sides, fingers tracing patterns on the ghostly skin that seemed to glow beneath his touch before meeting the hem of their briefs, pulling at them before breaking their kiss, pushing their foreheads together lovingly. He tried to catch his breath but still his words came out almost muted. “S’okay? You…’re okay?” not a moment the Reaper didn’t want the ghost to feel uncomfortable.

Their voice quivered uncontrollably as they struggled to catch their breath, the overwhelming sensation of arousal coursing through their veins. With every word, their voice cracked and faltered, overcome by the sheer intensity of the moment. "Yes...keep going," they managed to stammer out, each syllable dripping with a need and hunger that was unlike them. The air was thick with anticipation as they awaited the next move from their partner, their body trembling with excitement and yearning.

Their breaths mingled in the stagnant air of the mausoleum, creating a fog of passionate lust that enveloped them both. The reaper’s hands shook with anticipation as he continued to explore Onyx's ethereal form, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. The ghost arched into his caresses, a low moan escaping their lips as pleasure coursed through their slender body.

Feeling emboldened by Onyx's response, he let his hands wander further, sliding down to grasp the ghost's hips possessively. Onyx gasped at the touch, their form shimmering in the moonlight as they surrendered to the Reaper's embrace. The connection between them crackled with a raw intensity, each movement bringing them closer to the edge of something wild and untamed.

As their passions continued to ignite, O felt a desperate surge push through him as he wrapped both his hands now tenderly around the back of Ony's thighs, lifting them, he sat back on the coffin, still between the legs he was lifting a mere few inches. “I want you, Onyx, in every way possible, for eternity, would that be, alright?” he asked cautiously, but still, with an aura of confidence as he kissed down the ghost’s thin legs.

“Absolutely, Zeroh, I’m already yours,” the ghost whispered hoarsely. The larger grinned, like a kid in a candy shop kissing down the spirit’s legs with adoring excitement, he felt a shiver run down his spine at Onyx's words. He looked up at the ghost's face, their eyes shining with admiration and all the same, hunger. A spark spread through him at the thought of spending eternity with the apparition, and he knew that he would do anything to make that a reality.

With a renewed sense of grounding, Zeroh reached downward to his own boxers, pulling them down to reveal his hardened cock and slickening his palm with a mouthful of saliva. “You’re sure you want this? You want me?” he prepped himself accordingly, positioning himself between Onyx’s trembling thighs, they nodded, biting their lower lip nervously but with excitement, their hands reached up to grasp the reaper by his forearms.

“I want you, I want to be yours, I want you to be mine….please, Zeroh..” the ghost almost begged, and it was enough for the ethereal to have mercy, sliding himself comfortably inside of Ony’s tight entrance. They both took their time adjusting as the reaper made his way the full hilt, they each took a deep breath in, and the spirit moaned involuntarily with a surprising ecstasy that overflowed them. The reaper’s hands on either side of Onyx’s head now, the ghost wrapping their leg’s tightly around his waist.

“Shhhh…it. It’s been awhile, Ha~ ..you feel really good…” O admitted, the vulnerability of their actions hung in the air like a thick blanket around them. Slowly, thoughtfully, the reaper began to slip back out, only mid way before, tenderly back in.

The air in the crypt was thick with the scent of ancient stone and the mingled musk of their bodies as they moved in unison, their souls intertwined in a dance as old as time itself. Oh’s blueish white eyes locked with Onyx's, the intensity of their affections and desires for one another, reflected back in the other's gazes. The ghost's body writhed beneath him, a symphony of pleasure and pain, their breaths echoing in the silent chamber like the cries of a thousand long-lost souls. “Zeroh~” the spirit whimpered in pleasure as their body was claimed.

Movements became more fervent, their bodies undulating like two waves crashing into one another, creating a tide of passion that threatened to consume them both. As their hips met with a rhythm that was both primal and divine, Zeroh brought his fingers down, tracing delicate patterns on Onyx's skin, leaving behind trails of light that danced in the moonbeams pouring through the dusty window. “My name on your lips…don’t ever cry for another…I could die over and over hearing that sound, and I know it’ll…” he paused, shoveling himself back inside “lead me to salvation…” he huffed through clenched teeth before pushing down and finding their lips again.

Time seemed to lose all meaning as they continued to move, each thrust more deliberate and passionate than the last. Despite the urgency of their passion, they took their time, savoring the feel of each other's bodies as hands made magic as though it might be their last chance to experience this earthly pleasure.

Zeroh's movements grew more frantic, he could feel the ghost beneath him begin to tremble in anticipation of their union. Each time he thrust into Onyx, he could feel himself getting closer to the brink, their bodies humming with electricity as they danced on the razor's edge of climax. Mouths still clashing and melting together like two pieces of chocolate in a wrapper on a hot day.

With a gasp, Onyx's body stiffened beneath him, their eyes rolling back into their head as they arched their back in pure unadulterated ecstasy. Zeroh watched closing while the spirit was coming undone, spurting out from their length over their chests, and he tried to hold back his own orgasm, savoring the sight of the ghost finding pleasure for the first time in, possibly ever, and with a final thrust, Zeroh's own climax washed over him. His seed spilling forth into the ghost's body as their souls seemed to meld together. The air was thick with raw passion and the scent of their mingled fluids, mixing with the musty odor of the ancient crypt.

As they lay there, clinging to one another, Zeroh couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them. Would they be together forever? Could they find a way to be together should Onyx ever pass over? Or would this be just a fleeting moment of passion, a memory etched into their beings? Would they pretend this never happened? They couldn’t…the electricity…the raw passion between them was too palpable.

He brushed a lock of Onyx's hair from their forehead, tracing the lines of their ethereal face with his fingers. For a moment, they were silent, lost in their own thoughts, but then O whispered softly into his ear. “Could we have forever? You think?” the reaper asked, almost with a shaken voice. The ghost tightened their arms around him, comforting him.

“We can,” Onyx whispered back, the sincerity in their voice resonating through the cold stone chamber, enough to give the Reaper the assurance neither of them could really promise. He could feel Onyx's breathing slowing, and their body starting to steady as they began to drift back down from the heights of passion.

As they lay intertwined, still basking in the afterglow of their passions, Zeroh's mind raced with a flurry of thoughts. The possibilities that had just opened up before him were overwhelming, and he found himself lost in them. For so long, he had believed that Sebastian was his one true love, the end all be all of feelings and emotions. But then this little apparition appeared, floating into his life like an unexpected arrow piercing straight through his heart.

Slowly, they started to disentangle themselves from each other, “Should clean ourselves up…we could…continue distributing the flowers to the empties if you’d like?” The reaper offered as they slowly climbed down from the stone coffin, O helping the smaller down with a steady hand.

“I’d love that,” Yixxy smiled back at him, hopping down and helping him sort through their mess of clothes.

“And face the gloat of a match making bird as well…” Zeroh chuckled breathily, running a hand through his slightly dampened and sweaty locks.

“Oh? Did Amara have something to do with your approach tonight?” Onyx looked up from getting dressed to meet the Reaper’s gaze with a raised brow.

“She might have…been the courage I needed yes,” they both shared a gentle laugh, the sound echoing off the crypt walls, the two gathered their things, got dressed and reemerged from the mausoleum, content to enjoy the rest of their night in the company of each other.

The End

Author’s Notes: Idk if it’s cause I spent literally 24 hours writing this piece, or my brain is fried but I feel like I probably could have done better on this 🤣 Ugh they’re so cute I just want to make sure it’s done justice! 🥲🥲 hope yall enjoy! It was fun writing 🫶🏻

#oc #original character #writer #fic writer #snzblr #snz kink #snz #snz ocs #snzfucker #snzzzzz #snz oc #snzkink #snzfet #snz fucker #snz fet #ZerOnyx

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magolandandfriends · 7 months

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Hello Magolor and friends, I have been watching your tale play out for a while and its interesting to me. I also brought a gift *place four bags of popeye's chicken in front of them* Its four chicken tender family meals making it 64 pieces of chicken twenty biscuits 20 sauces and 8 sides. I didn't know what you may want so I got 4 sides of fries, 2 sides of mashed potatoes and 2 sides of mac and cheese. Oh right and before I forget I had two questions. First, Magolor are you feeling any side effects from your little heatstroke incident. Second, I saw that Zan Partizanne and Susie are a couple so I was wondering if anyone else among the four of you (sans susie given my earlier point) or other people you know are in relationships. - The Wanderer, Guardian of Omndell

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

[ They’re all happy. Very happy. Certified :D moment. ]

Magolor: No I haven’t been feeling any kind of side effects! It’s been a month since I fainted I’m doing perfectly fine! No need to worry!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆ ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡ ⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡ ⋆

[QUESTION 2 ANSWERED VV]

Susie: That’s oddly specific-

Taranza: Trust me if I knew why I would tell you but- also don’t tell Marx I told you this I’ll never hear the end of it

Susie: oh don’t worry I won’t. I’ll just use this information to mess with him

Wanderer belongs to: @the-omndell-chronicles !!

(…. It’s been. Almost a month. Since I answered an ask. And it’s been. Almost 3 months. Since I’ve gotten this ask. Um. So how y’all doing)

(Anyways HOLY FUCJING SHIT ITS BEEN ALMOST A MONTH SINCE I FED YOU GUYS WITH MY ASKS IM SO DAMN SORRY- like I said before- college started, i had to wait for my new iPad to arrive, I have to do actual assignments now and I’ve been B U S Y, and this ask wAS SUPER LONG- I had to restart it twice because I wasn’t happy with how it was turning out)

(BUT WOWWWWWIE THIS ONE WAS A FUN ONE. EVEN THOUGH I RESTARTED THE SCRIPT DURING THE WORKINF PROGRESSES THIS ONE WAS A FUN ONE AND I ENJOYED IT. I NEED TO PROPERLY PREPARE MYSELF FOR THESW LONG ASKS-)

(AND DAILY REMINDER ESPECIALLY WITH LIFE STARTINF TO GET MORE BUSY FOR ME. YOURE ASKS ARENT BEING IGNORED. NOT ONLY AM I LETTING A WHEEL PICK FOR ME BUT IM SUPER BUSY NOW. This time I’m going to focus on the asks from July before I go back to the wheel BUT hopefully now that this big one is finished they’ll come out quickly- I’ll try to get 1-2 out by the weekends but if not then please forgive me)

(And to those that read my tags on posts that were marx and Magolor focused- where I get extra silly. Yes this is technically a part where it starts to pick up but it’s more of a prologue if anything so do with that what you will)

(Ok anything else I wanna say- oh yes- Magolor isn’t lying he hasn’t been experiencing any side effects that were linked to the fainting incident. But his friends are keeping and extra close eye on him when the weather is hotter than usual. Man I hope something like that doesn’t happen again that would be cra-)

(OKOK ONE LAST BIT IF IMPORTANT INFO- I normally draw characters from the magoverse for silly and fun but this time I tried to draw this askers OC wanderer for fun- I tried goikg based off the text post that was on their profile but if I messed anything up then I DEEPLY apologize- I’ll try to make fixes if I don’t forget-)

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babyjop · 10 months

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Hiii! I hope im not bothering you too much with my my asks-

But this has been living rent free in my head-

how do you think siblings of the endless and Hob would help Dream when he’s sick? I just find sick fics so cute and Dream, especially when he’s small, would be such a little crybaby 🥹

-that one anon from before

Hey, sorry for not answering for so long!! Real life has kind of been hitting me really hard 😅

And don't apologize for sending asks, I'm always happy when I see one in my inbox and it flatters me that people enjoy my content so much :D

Dream is already a crybaby under usual circumstances when regressed so I definitely think that would increase if he were feeling poorly. I do think that he doesn't really get sick in the "normal" sense, but my personal hc is that for him anxiety and general mental unwellness manifests in physical symptoms a lot. At least when he's in the Waking. Can't exactly make it rain there when you're upset lmao.

Hob would definitely take care of him. He's been alive for over 600 years, he knows how to take care of ill people. Even if it is difficult for him to convince Dream to stay in bed when he's feeling unwell (he wants to play) or when he has to explain the concept of throwing up to him (it hasn't happened to Dream in his LIFE and he's very unhappy the first time it does).

Apart from that he would definitely pull up the whole agenda. Make him wear fluffy sweaters and socks, prepare his favorite foods and tons of herbal tea, draw him a bath. He probably talks himself hoarse by telling Dream so many stories and so many books in order to bribe him into staying in bed and resting.

Delirium is delighted (ha) when Dream runs a fever and is a bit more on her wavelength for a while. Then she feels sorry for having been happy about him being sick.

Desire would be convinved they'll be really good at taking care of him until they actually walk into the room and are like "ew bodily fluids and sickness" and are OUTTA THERE. They send Dream a gift to make up for it.

Death, I think it just helps for here to be there. She's the favorite sibling so Dream is content with putting his head on her lap and letting her pet through his hair. She brings him some chicken noodle soup though cause that's what you do when someone is sick. And an apple, since it keeps the doctors away ;)

#the sandman agere #sandman agere #thank you for asking!#sandmännchen

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whumpy-wyrms · 7 months

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Hello hi again! Sorry I've been gone a bit! (I've started uni :D)

I would simply like you to know I saw the chicken plush art yesterday and hrsghsrgshdgsgrsdrgdgsgfdhdgdgfrgdhsrrhhjgjr I have Not been normal since.

It is He,, with the He,, , and the Him,,,,, ,, ,

And the chimkim,,,,,,,,,,

The lab chicken has the chicken plush,,,,h old gentle like the hamburger,

Anton may watch Dew while he sleeps but I take the other shifts and sometimes watch Anton too, I am observing not respectfully, not disrespectfully, but vibrating so hard I'm but a shadow on the wall,

Whenever you give Dew a cookie in your writing, my brain is handing me a Serotonin, it's also handing me a few more when there's an escape attempt and it fails and we get to see both the fuck around and the find out

Heck, I love looking at your writing (sentence can end here) and seeing what Anton's doing subtly. Like the almost nonsense injections to pass the time and to try to encourage Dew to pull stuff to check out the mind control and then the punishment of being made to stay still while being injected with stuff to get him over the fear of needles (with questionable success) had me Feral, like when Anton forced Dew to get over it enough to ask for the pain killers before he thought it was going to kill him (I might have to send a separate ask about that scene alone, it plays in my head Often)

Anyways I shall haunt thy ask box no longer (for now) but yes, I am so normal about the chicken. It is good size, perfect for hug. The plush is also very nice and definitely didn't spend ten minutes solid with it consuming my thought when I first saw it. (sorry if you did get all the like notifs)

Hope you have a good day and school's been doing okay!!

HI ANON!

thanks hehehe im so happy you like the chicken plush art i had a lot of fun drawing it :)

whenever i feel bad about my writing i look at your asks and instantly get filled with serotonin

Anton’s like, “torture is okay as long as Dew gets a cookie afterwards :3”

YESS i try to subtlety hint at what Anton’s planning but also keep it a surprise (you know Anton and I, we just love surprises) for Dew and the reader, because most of it is in Dew’s POV. also i too have a fear of needles and can safely say that Dew is probably More scared of needles after that </3 sorry Anton but you fucked that up

feel free to haunt my ask box for as long as you like :D i love it when people talk to me about my ocs it makes me very happy

also i miiiight get chapter 8 posted later today, it’ll be a bit shorter than the rest for Reasons (crazy shit happens in #9… that’s all i will say about that)

anyway thanks again, also good luck with starting uni!

#ask #tllr ask #lab whump

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regret-breathing · 4 months

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she lives on a farm with her sheep, her chickens, her goats, and a number of other creatures. she keeps pet rodents and spiders in terrariums. in the two story house there are multiple rooms of just her taxidermy collection, almost all her own work. she wears her hair long, her wide, haughty features complimenting her playful eyes and beautiful skin perfectly. shes like a queen, or a witch. but shes a macrobiologist. she doesnt live anywhere near me. i want to wrap her in what little warmth i have and learn how she takes her eggs. i want to learn to live with her five dogs, or rather, learn how much benadryl i can take before i get too loopy to love her how she deserves. she’s always warm, even though she texts like she’s ten years older than she is. i’ve only heard her voice one time. i want to listen to it for at least six hours daily. i don’t know what it is about her that hit me like a truck but now i’m just happy to be roadkill.

i’m awkward over text, especially with people i can’t help but love. she’s hard to talk to because i get too in my head. i feel like she’s going to slip away before i get to tell her how much she means to me. we’ve known each other less than three months but i want to cook at least 400 meals for her. i wish it were acceptable to tell someone that. to tell someone you only met recently that you think you could spend forever learning new ways to make her smile. her house sounds like heaven. i don’t normally like dogs. but for her? five sounds doable.

she says when she dreams she has wings most of the time. when i asked what her wings were like she told me, black and bright blue almost like a blue jay, but with color placement like an owl’s. my knees buckled a bit and i could hardly breathe for a second. she loves dragons, draws them all the time. i save every picture of a doodle she sends me. but still her wings have feathers. she says she dreams so vividly that she can feel the breeze in every one of them as she catches the wind. i don’t know how to tell her that’s what it feels like when she tells me something new about her.

she painted a door in her house, blue mostly with strips of colors in every hue. when i told her it looked like the bark of my favorite tree and showed her some pictures, i couldn’t believe my luck. i cant help but picture seeing that door every day and thinking of that little bit of serendipity.

she says not to get too attached to the ram. i’ve never seen him in person but i don’t think i can keep to that. he’s so sweet, and soft, and named like my best friends brother. sometimes, she says, he tries to escape the pen, and she has to wrangle him and sit on him. she’s stronger than people think, she says. i can’t imagine underestimating her. i think if i was honest with her about myself, about everything inside me, she might not get scared off. she talks like there’s a lot she doesn’t tell everyone also. she talks like she would understand. but still im scared to tell her i feel so strongly for her so soon. if i miss my chance i might regret it forever. but i keep seeing posts with that quote, don’t die not knowing, and thats starting to scare me more than losing her.

i think i need to wait a little longer. to wait until her car is fixed and we can see each other for real. i want to make her something, but i don’t have any blue yarn. i want to make her gloves, because they’d go so nicely with her tattoos. i want to learn new stitches, so i can make her something really pretty. i haven’t taught myself any new ones since i was a kid, but what i can make now isn’t good enough. i know that’s not how it works, that a gift from a friend is perfect by nature of its existence, but she deserves the world, and even if i can’t give it to her, i can at least give her something in stockinette.

#regret posting #knitting #delete later #personal shit #i want to say her name but the internet can’t be trusted.#that doesn’t make it harder not to scream it over and over until my throat goes.#i don’t think i understand what it was to miss someone before locking eyes with them #she says she doesn’t take selfies often. and yet i get to see her face at least a few times a week.#i count myself lucky every time.

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winderlylandchime · 7 months

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1/2We are at 4x02. He took a 30 minute break to call his ‘girls’ and came back with a ton of gossip. I am now wondering what kind of life he lives back home ngl. ‘Hit play! Lets get this party on the road!’ *starts dancing along to the intro* ‘oh i really fuck with this intro. Itd be better with more Brian and Justin but I’m willing to settle’ ‘SHANDA IS ALIVE! Oh poor baby, you will heal. And i will burn the world down to find those fuckers. Justin being friends with a drag queen makes sense…no offense Justin but that sandwich looks sad as fuck’ ‘THEYRE GOING TO THE FAIRY THING?! I WANNA GO TO!..what center? Is it that gay and lesbian center that supported that homophobe that covered up a gay mans murder? Because if so benny…it will happen again unfortunately.’ (I looked away for two seconds and he grabbed my face and squished it and turned it to the tv* LOOK AT BRIAN AND JUSTIN! Oh shit Brian is turning down jobs. So he’s not going solo? OH WAIT HE IS. Hell yeah THE BEYONCÉ OF THE GROUP!’ The fairy thing is happening ‘….i dont know what i imagined this would be but boy, was i wrong. *looks at me* what would my fairy name be?’ ‘Of course he immediately went to a sex shop. I feel so bad for him but we all gotta start somewhere. He’s gonna hate this though because of the whole noble thing’ ‘OH TED IS FINISHING REHAB! HELL YEAH BABE! You did it and im so happy for you. I love Blake, please dont let this be the last time i see him’ ‘ITS THE FEMALE BLONDIE! She IS SECRET AGENT! She wants to help Brian HAHA I KNEW I LIKED HER! *looks in amazement at Brian* Damn, he really looks good. YEAH BRIAN STEAL THE CLIENTS AND THE ASSISTANT. Okay this will sound weird but I really like his hair. He looks good poor.’ ‘Is the Team Brian shirt my fairy outfit? I need to figure out my name. They did Emmett dirty, he would’ve come up with a way better outfit. DUMPLING? I like it’ The center scene is up and it just showed Cody, please note this is the moment I officially start dying inside ‘HEY! My mom told me you cant whistle indoors cause its bad luck! Who’s he? I DONT LIKE THAT THEY KEEP SHOWING JUSTIN. This better not be this seasons Ethan. I dont like him. Get rid of him. Justin stop being impressed by stupidity..so his plan is to become the attacker?’ ‘Brian being a little shit to Ted.. feels like old times. (Brian does that up/cup thing) *starts pointing to the tv* UP! UP! I KNOW THAT!’ That scene with Ben and Hunter in the gym is on ‘Brian looking out for Hunter. What did i say about my uncle nephew duo?! I hope the boring doesnt rub off on Hunter’ ‘high alone in the woods dressed like a fairy? Emmett might be living my new fantasy. Of course the only friend he finds is some random old dude’ ‘ugh Bald Ad dude, go fuck yourself. BRIAN! go do your thing! Oh shit, thats fucking insane. DAMN BRIAN. I love that he knows the first ad is shit. I like this version of Brian, i fuck with this’ ‘Shanda baby, come on. (Justin says chicken is for lunch) damn. Him telling people off is kinda cool. HEY! Justin was a baby! He was a child! ITS FUCKED UP TO EXPECT HIM TO DO ANYTHING! He was a BABY!’ ‘BLAKEY! I really need him to be happy and healthy forever. I’m so happy for him’ and now the britin scene where Justin is drawing is on ‘Blondie, are you okay? his hand hurt- aw Brian to the rescue. Why does everyone keep forgetting that Brian was also at prom? This whole couple thingy they got going on this season, is *he makes a fist and smacks his chest twice and does like a pouty face(?)* making me emotional. HEY JUSTIN YOU WERENT A COWARD YOU WERE A CHILD! 18! Nobody expects an 18 year old to save the world’ Brian tells Justin how to get even ‘now that is a good advice. Im starting to realize that every advice he has, has something to do with education. Aw Brian is upset because his blondie is upset. SEE?! A COUPLE!’

I am so intrigued by your brother's life back home.

And yes, Justin being friends with a drag queen. I know we don't want to spoil anything about this for Brother but at some point you must tell him that Randy watches drag race.

The Fairy Gathering is real! My friend Jack went and has a fairy name and everything.

Your brother is right! Justin was a baby! He didn't owe anything to anyone after nearly being killed.

#ask winderlylandchime #dear sweet anon #queer as folk #a straight man watches qaf us 2000 in the year of our lord 2023

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the-kipsabian · 8 months

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So. What I think about you. It’ll take some telling to get there. Might get a bit sappy but here goes nothing.

So I’m a pretty new fan of wrestling, less than a year of proper watching still. It was a bit of a spontaneous thing, a friend made watching another sport would post things, and eventually I decided to take a peek and see what all the fuss was about. And in the end, I really enjoyed what I saw. I could get into that, but it’s not exactly important to where I’m going with this.

I don’t remember exactly when I first saw Kip. It was after his feud with OC, but still close to new years. And I thought, geez this guy is neat. Had no idea what was going on with any of his past work, I just liked the way he moved, I guess. So I thought, let me dig a little deeper into this. Eventually I ended up at your blog, and let me tell you, you were a hell of a resource to this baby fan. I’ve always been a bit nervous about following new people (had some bad experiences in the past I’m not eager to repeat) so I think I sort of lurked a while before I actually hit that follow, probably by accident honestly.

So then was Kip and Penny’s trip to Japan, and this is where I got introduced to Chris Brookes, who I’m not sure I even have words for how fond I am of him now. So I very much attribute that to you, and I’m pretty thankful for the introduction to an absolute bastard giraffe man who I adore.

Eventually I got a bit more settled into my new interest, started posting a bit on tumblr, reblogging gifs and the like. And then, just like how I got into wrestling, another fairly distant mutual joked about being interested in what they were seeing. So we talked a bit, I recommended some of what got me interested, and I think in the end that got me a new friend. In a way, I can wrap that back around to you, too.

I see that you struggle a lot. Sometimes it’s with writing, or art. You still make cool things, and I’m pretty awed by that. I’m looking forward to what you’ll make next. I doodled a rabbit on the back of a shopping list today, for the first time in months. It felt like a little victory. I wonder sometimes if your writing, your art, feels like that too. I’ll still celebrate it as if it is.

I’m not really sure how to end this. I guess I just want to say, we aren’t exactly friends, or at least, I don’t feel I can claim that we are right now. But I do think about you, and root for you. And in myriad little ways, you’ve changed my life. That feels a little strange to write, but it’s not untrue. I suppose no one can really know what impact we have on anyone else. At any rate, I hope you’re doing well, I saw you were sick this week.

-🐓

first of all: CHICKEN ANON YOURE BACK HELLO!! its been a while i hope youre doing well! 💜

legit when i read this first thing in the morning, i fucking cried. just.. theres a lot to unpack here, i try not to ramble but this. something like this is literally why ive been keeping on posting everything i do despite occasionally feeling like theres no point to sharing anything. ive always been telling myself that i first do it for myself, and then share it in case theres someone somewhere down the line that might be looking for this content later

and to hear that there is even one (1) person literally like this out there, using my blog and the content i put out to familiarize themselves with my blorbo, im... like oh my god 💜💜

im really glad it has helped you make friends too 💜 and while i dont know who you are, i would consider us friends no matter what tho, especially after hearing this. so glad things like this have helped you to get more into the community, thats amazing! and to touch up on the art thing, yeah its hard at times to pick things up again after a long while of not doing anything - i literally wrote a drabble last night after not writing anything for a week and i havent even seen my drawing tablet in like two months now lmao - but im so happy to hear about your grocery list rabbit!! little doodles here and there are definitely better than nothing, especially if you enjoy doing them!

youre so precious anon, i hope youre having a good day. im still slightly sick, getting better now thankfully so i should be fully operational the next few days and oooooh when that happens its all over you fuckers when i get back to writing (this is affectionate i swear LMAO)

thank you, i love you 💜

#also. when you say you liked the way he moved. same brain cause i remember that was literally the same thing i was originally drawn to #about him. it was back in the superbad days when it was even more.. slutty i should say lmao but still #thank you for this. i will treasure it forever #anonymous #thank you for asking! <3 #xoxo

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cat-terpillar · 2 years

Photo

i just like him ok

#sdv #stardew valley shane #sdv shane #stardew valley #i know i keep drawing him with chickens but hes happy so im happy

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hansolmates · 4 years

Text

here comes the bride, all dressed in pride

summary; You and your cousin Doyeon have had beef with each other since the sandbox. When she plucks the last straw, you decide to end your long-simmering fight by claiming that you and her ex—Jeon Jungkook, are now boyfriend and girlfriend pairing; jungkook x reader (f) genre/warnings; fake dating!au, fluff, crack, mentions of cheating, lang, alcohol, mc eats meat, tw sexual harassment, toxic family, dick talk, making out, if u have that one family member that pulls bs on you constantly this is it, this fic is for all the people who have a huge ass family who wont leave them alone w.c; 17.3k a/n: my second fic for gcn’s 23 birthday project! the fact that wedding szn zoomed by us like that... and so bc im sad that so many weddings had to be postponed this fic was born! a huge thank u to vivi @eerieedits / @chillingtae for creating this BEAUTIFUL fic banner and separator pls check vivi out to make your fics all purty

prompts used: “You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?” and “I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

if you enjoyed this pls consider giving a like and a share💕💕

Doyeon likes to call Jungkook, “the one who got away.”

You like to call Doyeon, “the one who drove him away.”

In secret, of course. In fact, the only person who knows how much you loathe Doyeon and her behavior is your father. And all your co-workers. And your boss. And your boss’ ex-husband.

And Jeon Jungkook, but of course you haven’t seen the man in two years and back then he was far too polite to address his concerns of your hatred of his then-girlfriend.

Okay, so everyone and their mother knows how much you don’t like your cousin. Kim Doyeon and you have had beef since the sandbox, and for whatever reason is always out to one-up you. A strange competitive nature in everything, academics, family, and even boys. The sick, twisted part of you has come to enjoy it. While you’re not a fighter as devout as Doyeon is, you have your own callous tendencies farmed from the seeds Doyeon has planted in your brain. She gives you a comment? You can’t help but throw one back. Since you’re a painfully mature soul you don’t have any mortal enemies as far as you know, Doyeon is the perfect amount of hot water to keep you on your toes.

“I’m really sorry that you couldn’t be a bridesmaid,” Doyeon cooes next to you, swirling her champagne glass with a too-jutted pout, “but if I did there’d be an odd number of pairings and you’re a little too old to be walking as a bridesmaid, am I right?”

Your nails. Are digging. Through your dress. Alas, you’re in public and you have class. Doyeon smiles at you with all teeth, reminding you of the Beldam from Coraline. Aside from that she looks absolutely stunning in that Lirika Matoshi strawberry dress that has her Instagram aching with likes and love from her baseless followers.

“I don’t know,” you reply lightly, leaning back in your seat, “I mean, if Yoojung and Rena can be bridesmaids and they’re three years older than me, wouldn’t I make the cut? It’s okay to be honest and say you just didn’t want me in the bridal party.”

Doyeon laughs, slaps your thigh like you told her the most hilarious joke in the world. Anyone passing by would think you’re best friends. You laugh too, incredulous at the amount of power she thinks she holds.

“Nice party,” you tack on, surveying the room. It’s filled with pastels and beiges, bright and airy. It’s Parisian themed, and while you’re not a fan of theming cultures, you can’t deny that you’re loving the infinite supply of macarons.

“Oh, yes. This is just a taste of the real wedding,” she laces her fingers together, as if she thinks she’s living an Elizibethean love story, “speaking of, you put on your RSVP that you’re bringing a plus one. Am I allowed to know who’s the unlucky date?”

“As if you care.”

“I care if you’re bringing Jimin. That tiny thing nearly gave Aunt Lillian a heart attack when he gave a striptease at Yoongi’s graduation party.”

You smirk softly at the bold memory. That was the plan.

Doyeon sighs dramatically, crossing her legs and popping out a cherry red heel. She plays with the back on the balls of her feet, letting the little pearly rhinestones glisten in the candlelight, “I should really commend you, cousin,” she drawls, “I mean, how kind of you to be so charitable and give your dopey friends a chance to have fun. After all, I’m sure it is difficult for someone like you to find a date.”

It’s no surprise as to how you end up with a date at any family formal gathering. You say you bring a plus one, and then between Jimin, Taehyung and Hoseok. The three of them draw straws as to who gets to gorge on free alcohol and food for that night.

“Difficult?” you arch a brow, “I get plenty of dates.”

Doyeon giggles. She must be feeling extra vindictive today, high on her impending marriage and the taste of bubbly champagne. “By taking turns with those three? You gotta be kidding me,” she snorts, tipping back her crystal, “please y/n. Don’t get so defensive because I’m getting married first. Your time will come. That is, if you stop dicking around with your friends.”

Normally you’d smother any attempt at Doyeon to call out your friends, but now she’s just done that and insulted your ability to get some, and you are livid.

“Actually,” you quip sharply, “I’ve been dating someone. It’s been a couple months, actually.”

“Oh?” Doyeon’s genuinely interested, face falling slightly, “you’ve never mentioned anyone, I don’t see anyone on your social media.”

“Yeah well,” you feign sympathy, pressing your lips together and tilting your head accordingly, “I’ve had to keep it private for a couple of reasons.”

“What, is he ugly or something?” she chuckles, “but really, who’s the person who has the misfortune of being in a committed relationship with you?”

Maybe it’s because Doyeon’s right, the both of you are too old. The two of you have been running around each other for years, with no end in sight. Maybe, the words that linger on the tip of your tongue will be the final nail in the coffin.

“Jeon Jungkook,” you state proudly, clear as day. “Jungkook and I have been dating for three months.”

And you pick up the vanilla macaron that sits innocently on your plate, ravishing it up like it contained all the tension in your table. Between you and Doyeon’s bubble, you could hear a pin drop.

“Jungkook?” her smile is concrete-solid, “my Jungkook?”

“My Jungkook,” you correct, giving her a puppy-eyed look, “I’m really sorry I never told you. I mean, is there ever a right time to tell your cousin they’re dating their ex-boyfriend?” you laugh, either to lighten the mood or because you love the way Doyeon pinches her face, you don’t know.

“How did you two even meet?”

“We reconnected through Seokjin. You know how the two of them play Starcraft together, I just ended up joining the call and he was so funny and nice. We just sorta… felt it.” Doyeon nods like a slow bobblehead, still comprehending in her pea-sized brain, “I just hope it isn’t too awkward. I know it’s been awhile but, if you really don’t want Jungkook to come I can always take Hoseok or something.”

“No, it’s fine,” Doyeon says a little too quickly, masking on her picture-perfect smile. “I’m with Namjoon now, and I’m totally happy. Water under the bridge, it’ll be totally fine.”

“Really?” your eyes practically sparkle, thankful for the amount of glitter and highlighter you’ve dumped on your face today, “I really appreciate it, Yeonie.”

And she quickly downs her champagne glass, and gets up from her seat. It’s haunting, the way she gets up, pink tulle billowing around her ankles. “I have to attend to the other guests,” she says.

“Of course,” you raise your glass.

“But, be careful,” she gives you a little smile, one filled with a last-ditch attempt at a jab, “Jungkook, he’s a little hard to deal with.”

“Oh don’t worry. I know how to deal with Jungkook’s hardness,” you wink, and Doyeon’s face falls like a ton of bricks.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I know,” you shrug loftily, “that’s what I meant, though.”

And you don’t bother watching Doyeon stomp off the metaphorical stage, double fisting two new glasses of champagne from an awaiting butler as she finds some other poor guest to pick on. Now, the matter of securing your date. Conveniently so, the most important man in the room is walking your way, and you manage to snag his tie just as he passes your table.

“Ow—ow! I’m choking!” Seokjin grabs, nearly throwing his tall body onto your lap, hands grappling to release the tension on his neck. “Leave me alone, woman! I just wanted to get some chicken tenders!”

“Jin,” you say sweetly, opening his blazer to retrieve his phone, “I need Jeon’s number, now.”

“Jungkook?” your favorite cousin pales, eyes widening as you take out your phone of your own, copying down the digits, “what did you do?”

“Don’t ask questions.”

Seokjin says your name again, firmer. “You’re playing with fire.”

“It’ll be fine, it’s the last time,” you quell, already knowing how much Seokjin hates being in the middle of your fights. Once you’ve secured the phone number, you place Seokjin’s phone back into his pocket, patting his breast. “Thank you. You know you’re my favorite cousin, you know that?”

He grumbles a “damn right I am” before stomping away, resuming his race for his chicken tenders.

You: hey jeon it’s y/n. I see you’re doing great, i saw on instagram that you released your first app w/yoongi! Totally amazing, been playing for weeks, really upset that i can’t get past the flaming frog boss :((

You: Feel free to ignore this, i won’t blame you if you do. Im at doyeon’s rehearsal dinner, and she basically snubbed my friends and said i couldn’t get some prime dick even though im?? Me??? Anyway, im tired of her shit so im gonna throw it back at her, one last time before she ties the knot. I told her you and i have been dating, and im bringing you as my date to her wedding. Really sorry, the demons took over my brain and made the worst and best comeback of my life. So… if you’re up for being the hottest couple on the floor in three weeks and showing how madly in love we are, please text me back? Or not. You might think this family is crazy and i accept partial responsibility.

You: I’ll buy u every meal for every practice date we have if u agree.💕💕💕

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: thanks, i appreciate that. To defeat the frog boss, go back to the coconut cave and find the garnet garter. It absorbs his fire and u can easily defeat froggo w any level 15 weapon

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: and as for the real reason u texted me. Im in. let’s get pork belly tomorrow.

Two years ago, you were surprised that Doyeon could manage to snag a man as fine as Jeon Jungkook. Also unsurprised, because Doyeon is gorgeous and could snag any man she wanted, and has snagged every man she wanted.

Jungkook was different though. He had an air of innocence to him. He loved her, a little too much to be safe. Your heart would betray you every time you would find him at a family gathering, making her plate and counting the calories she so meticulously measured. How can someone so sweet be with someone like Doyeon?

Your heart ached for Jungkook when they broke up a year later. From what you heard, Doyeon was Jungkook’s first serious girlfriend. And then you wanted to rip your heart out a week later when you caught Doyeon smooching with her favorite graduate professor Kim Namjoon, wanting to erase any possibility you’d have at love. At that time, you never wanted to feel the pain you imagined Jungkook was going through.

“Y/n! Over here!” you’re a little taken aback at how much has not changed in Jungkook. His eyes still sparkle like fresh dew, his smile is still pearly white and infectious. He’s even early, snagging a table at his favorite barbeque place and waiting for you as if he is the one organizing your first date.

At the same time, there’s so much that’s changed about him. He’s confident, even going so far as to walk over to you and slip your jacket and purse in his grasp like a gentleman. He leads you by putting a hand lightly at the small of your back, making you feel impossibly small in comparison to his Dorito-shaped body, broad shoulders and a deliciously trim waist.

“How was the walk over?”

“Not too bad,” the conversation is casual, easy. You wipe the sweat off your forehead with a napkin. “Could use a little exercise now and again. I did eat a whole tray of macarons at that rehearsal dinner.”

Jungkook laughs from his belly, causing you to smile. “Nonsense. You look great, by the way,” you don’t mind it, actually, you enjoy it when his eyes rake over your body. After all, he’s now your boyfriend and he needs to get familiar with all the important bits. He leans his arms forward, bracing him against the wooden table so his face is closer to yours.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself,” your eyes gloss over the veins and intricate tattoos that paint his muscled upper half. Your smile morphs into a smirk, letting him know you’re enjoying the view just as well as he is.

And as soon as the tension sparks, it ends just as fast when your waiter comes up to light your grill.

“So,” Jungkook wastes no time in decorating your stove, making sure to add all the appropriate aromatics and infusions to season your lunch, “do you know why Doyeon and I broke up?”

“Cheated on you with Namjoon, I assume,” you keep your eyes trained on the darkening meat.

Jungkook slips a piece of meat in his mouth. Any expression of pain (whether it be from Doyeon or the barely cooked meat) doesn’t reveal itself as he stops to take a sip of water. “Who else knows?”

“Just me and Seokjin. The family loved you too much and Doyeon made up some sob story about how you two were going different life paths.”

He chuckles to himself, taking great care in flipping the meat. “I really was a fool in love, wasn’t I?”

“It… was mildly cute.”

“Tell me the truth, you have no reason not to.”

“Okay, you made me want to vomit rainbows and glitter every time I saw you.”

The two of you laugh, faces crinkling shamelessly as the two of you busy yourselves with setting up the table. Most of the food is done and the aroma of fresh onions wafts around your grill. As you place chopsticks on his side of the table, you think about all the times Jungkook made it abundantly clear how much he loved Doyeon: the love letters tucked into her purse, 100 day anniversaries, even just a simple Americano for her in the morning.

“Is that why you never hung out with us?”

“No,” you reply lightly, “Doyeon made it clear that I shouldn’t talk to you.”

Jungkook frowns, “You really don’t like each other, do you.”

You shrug, “Just always been like that,” you quirk a smile when Jungkook places the freshly cooked meat on top of your rice before serving himself.

“So what’s the plan?”

“We go to the wedding, make out a little, get Doyeon boiling. Even if she’s not interested in you, she’d still be upset knowing we are together.”

“And why is that?”

“Because it’s me,” you grin into your glass, staring at a water-stained Jungkook through the blue tinted glass. “And all you have to do, is enjoy your night and look pretty.”

His eyes crinkle, chopsticks pressing between his lips. “You think I look pretty?”

With a roll of eyes you don’t respond, preferring to dig your chopsticks in your rice. No need to inflate Jungkook’s ego too soon.

Pinning the main theme of your hangout to the side, the both of you dig into your meal. You throw conversation back and forth like pebbles, grains of sand that build and build until you’re caught up with each other’s lives. It feels so strange to admit it’s been two years since you’ve spoken to the man, and all of a sudden the once luscious meat feels dry in your mouth.

“Jeon,” you put your chopsticks down, “are you sure you want to do this with me? I mean, I know it’s all my fault and I dragged you into it. Don’t feel obligated to agree to this.”

“I’m a hundred-percent sure,” he doesn’t stop eating, shoving two spoonfuls of rice in his mouth. His cheeks puff up considerably, and your eyes trail down to his neck as he swallows, “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t wanna.”

“Right,” you don’t need a big explanation or a personal confession from Jungkook, just his consent. “Partners, Jeon?” you hold up your glass.

“Partners,” he agrees easily. The smile on his face disarms you, a full-fledged grin decked with pearly whites. Clicking his glass to yours he adds, “And it’s Jungkook, babe.”

Oh, this is going to be interesting.

Seokjin thinks the two of you are the most boring fake-couple.

His eyes dart back and forth between your spot on the couch and his desk, where Jungkook is currently seated. Seokjin is hovered over Jungkook, who’s typing and clicking furiously over his PC game. You’re on your phone, feet pulled up to the coffee table while some old Netflix movie plays in the background. To top it all off both of you didn’t even try to dress like it’s daytime, nearly matching in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. It doesn’t look like a couple coming to visit Seokin, it looks like Jungkook is playing video games with Seokjin while his cousin hangs around like she owns the place.

“Shouldn’t you guys like, I don’t know, go on dates or something?” Seokjin feels like he’s talking to the air. “Maybe get to know each other before the big day?”

Pulling your phone down to your lap and Jungkook taking off his headphones, the two of you shrug at each other, “No, we’re good.” Jungkook says.

“We know enough,” you agree cooly, “Jungkook likes Valorant.”

“I do like Valorant.”

“He likes pork belly.”

“I do like pork belly.”

“He’s ripped as hell.”

“I am ripped as hell.”

“Okay but have you guys kissed yet?” Seokjin interjects, probably compensating for the nonchalance in the room with his own brand of freaking out. You two only see each other when you’re hanging out at Seokjin’s apartment, and while he’s happy that you two aren’t doing the whole 9-yards and creating an elaborate scheme, the both of you are almost too relaxed. His anxiety is spiking.

“Yes,” Jungkook answers, “at the barbeque place we went to.”

“It was nice," you tack on, "Jin, we got this. Don't worry."

"How can I not worry when you're trying to upset our cousin on her wedding day?" he's sweating in his fully air-conditioned apartment. “I get that she’s the devil’s spawn and everything, but she’s still a human being.”

“In second grade she pushed me on the treadmill because I was going too slow. I got caught on the roller and got a bald spot for two months.”

“Okay yes one bad example—”

“And in senior year she accused me of plagiarizing her essay just because we chose the same topic. I almost didn’t get into college!” Seokjin sighs, crossing his arms. All valid points, and arguing with you isn’t a route he wants to take. “Jin, the point is that she’s constantly pushing my buttons. I’ve always been the bigger person and now that I’m old and confident I just want one jab.”

“That’s valid,” Jungkook pipes up, pressing the spacebar a few times, “I want a jab too, she cheated on me.”

“See? It’s a mutual decision.”

Seokjin asks, “Why aren’t you more worried about this?”

"Because Doyeon isn't going to chew me out on her wedding day," you checked your aunt's seating chart last week and you are far, far away from the bridal table. "We're just going to show off a little bit. Get drunk, eat some bomb steak. Break up in three months or less.”

"You don't have to just convince Doyeon, it's your entire family! Not to mention you also have to go to the bachelor party!"

"Oh I almost forgot," you reach under the couch for your laptop, "Jungkook, in two weekends from now we're flying to Las Vegas for the bachelor party and wedding. I'll buy your ticket now."

"Thanks, babe!” Jungkook sends a cheeky grin to Seokjin, who is unimpressed. “See? I remember to call her babe.”

“Alright, get out of my house,” Seokjin tugs Jungkook away from his computer, causing the younger man to swivel around in his plush gaming chair.

Jungkook frowns at the monitor, “But I’m still bronze one. I’m aiming for silver one by this weekend.”

“Don’t care. As much as I don’t like this plan, I’m not letting you two slip-up.” Seokjin pulls out his phone, revealing Doyeon’s Instagram story, “Doyeon and Namjoon are at the mall buying swimsuits for Vegas. Go to the mall and ‘accidentally’ run into them.”

You sit up straight, tilting your head to the side. “That’s not a bad idea, actually,” you bound over to grab your jacket, giving Seokjin a big fat kiss on his cheek, “Thanks Jinnie, do you know you’re—”

“I’m your favorite cousin. Yeah whatever, bye.” He waves you off, plopping in his own chair so he can enjoy his games in peace.

“I’m driving,” Jungkook declares, swiping your keys from Seokjin’s opal dish.

“Oh, hell no,” you jump on your tippy toes to reach Jungkook’s grasp on your keys, but he’s so freakishly tall there’s no way you can reach. “I drive my car!”

“I’ve always wanted to drive your car back then,” Jungkook cooes, leaning in so your noses touch. “C’mon, you can trust me.”

“You two are gross already,” Seokjin admonishes from the other side of the room, “see, it’s working!”

Poking his cheek so he gives you some space, you whip your head to hide the flush that burns on your cheeks. “Fine, but if you crash you’re buying me a new one.”

“They’re over there,” you hiss between the racks, shuffling between the plastic hangers to point to Doyeon and Namjoon at the women’s section of the store. They look disgustingly adorable together, with Doyeon pointedly telling Namjoon which swimsuit suits his stature better while Namjoon nods along and goes with whatever she says. You crouch down lower, fearing Namjoon’s tall frame would catch you. “Now we just gotta act all couple-y and they’ll notice us. Or maybe we can walk over to them? What do you wanna do?”

“Do you think we should get matching swimsuits?” Jungkook pays no mind to your sleuthing, holding up a red pair of swim trunks to his thighs, “we could pretend to be sexy lifeguards.”

You tilt your head away from the pair, only because Jungkook has been genuinely interested in this store since you’ve arrived. Putting a hand under your chin, you scrutinize the dark red cutoff shorts. “They’re cute,” you nod appreciatively, “It’ll make your thighs look thick.”

Jungkook’s grip on his hanger lowers, and he regards you with dark eyes. “You think my thighs look thick?” he asks, leaning in and putting one hand on the curve of your waist. His fingers dance on the surface of bare skin between your top and jeans, and while you’ve agreed beforehand that you two could touch each other wherever in public, it still surprises you when gooseflesh rises to the surface.

“Easy there, tiger,” you chuckle, putting a hand on his chest to stop his sudden bout of flirting. “I’m just stating the facts, we get it. You lift.”

“You’re so cute when you try to put your guard up,” he’s brushing noses with you now, and you feel the plastic of the hanger crumple pathetically between you two as the gap closes further. “But you can’t hide from me.”

And just as his lips move to press against yours, a shrill “Jungkook!” echoes throughout the large store.

You nearly flop over the boardshorts rack if not for Jungkook’s arms secured around your waist. Oh right, you think dumbly, this is all for show. Doyeon and Namjoon are right in front of you, purchases already made and looking at you two in curiosity. Well, Namjoon is definitely curious, because you know for a fact that Doyeon speaks very little of you to him and you’ve only conversed with him a handful of times. Doyeon on the other hand, looks a little stiff in the grin.

“Hello to you too,” you remark to Doyeon, who’s barely acknowledged you. You reach over to squeeze Namjoon’s arm, “Hi Joonie,” you crinkle your eyes, and you fight back a squeal when he smiles back with dimples. Doyeon has such a cute fiancé, and if you’re keeping score he’s way too good for her.

Doyeon’s eyes glaze over to where you’ve touched Namjoon, and she links her arms with his. “What a coincidence, you two are buying swimsuits where we’re buying swimsuits.”

“Well, there’s only one mall in this town and we’re going on the same trip in two weeks,” you reply blandly, and you feel Jungkook pinch your side. “Oh, Namjoon. Have you met my boyfriend Jungkook?”

“Can’t say that I have,” Namjoon reaches over to clasp Jungkook’s hand, “nice to meet you, man.”

While Namjoon and Jungkook exchange small talk, you pointedly ignore the waves of negativity Doyeon sends your way in favor of observing the two large men. Namjoon just said it was nice to meet him, therefore he has no clue who Jungkook is. Interesting, considering Doyeon two-timed in favor of Namjoon. It gets you a little antsy, and you wonder if Namjoon is faking this whole interaction or if Doyeon is hiding something.

“Baby,” Jungkook rests a hand on your shoulder, regarding you with concern, “you spaced out there, are you okay?”

“She’s like that, Jungkookie,” Jungkook gently presses your shoulders down, blocking your view of Doyeon as she regards your not-boyfriend as Jungkookie. “My cousin’s a bit of an airhead,” her tone is sweet and jesting, the backhanded jab going right above Namjoon’s head.

“I’m just hungry,” you say, forcing a tight-lipped smile.

“Well, that’s perfect,” Namjoon clasps his hands together, “Yeonie and I were just about to go grab some dinner. Why don’t you join us?”

Doyeon and you both reply immediately, “That really isn’t necessary—”

“Nonsense,” you don’t even have the heart to be upset at Namjoon because he looks so damn genuine, “It’s been two years and I haven’t even bought you a meal, y/n. After all, we’re going to be family at the end of the month.”

“Right,” you answer reluctantly.

“We’re gonna make reservations at the Cheesecake Factory,” he pulls out his phone, ready to make a call, “but you and Jungkook can finish shopping, okay? The wait will be a little long but by the time you’re done our table should be ready.”

You and Jungkook wave off Doyeon and Namjoon as they make their way to the restaurant. Your hand is caught in the air by Jungkook, who regards you with worry in his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding when I said you looked spaced out,” he says, “tell me what you were really thinking.”

Subconsciously, you squeeze his palm for comfort. “I don’t know, it just feels weird knowing Namjoon doesn’t seem to know you at all. Normally Doyeon loves to talk shit about her exes.”

Jungkook scoffs easily, “I mean, if she’s marrying the guy I’m sure she doesn’t want to let him know the details of how they ended up together.”

“True,” you decide to let it go, and follow Jungkook to the register to pay for his swim trunks.

“So,” the little ‘ding’ of the register opens up the money box, and Jungkook quickly hands the clerk his cash, “we’re having dinner with them after this?”

“Only if you want to.”

“We need to, right?” Jungkook thanks the clerk, holding the bag in one hand and threading his fingers through yours as you head out the store.

“Well, do you want to?” you ask again. Jungkook stops the two of you on the sidewalk. It isn’t a fast stop, but a slow down that makes his walk a little more thicker, more deliberate as he trudges you down the lane. You move in front of him, clutching your hands between his. “Are you okay? You barely even acknowledged Doyeon.”

“I’m fine,” you flinch at his harsh tone, and he immediately moves to remedy it by squeezing your hand back. “I’m sorry. It’s just been awhile and I’m definitely over her but,” he bows his head, feeling embarrassed, “she hurt me, you know?”

Going into this is definitely one of the more selfish plans you’ve put your mind to. Your heart pangs thinking about what must be going through everytime he sees her. If he’s reminded about all the good times they shared, or how much he’s over thought every single conversation he’s had with her up until this point.

“Of course,” you completely understand, knowing from the beginning that this whole mess would end up with some dicey feelings someway or another. “I’m just thankful you chose to stick by me. And we can talk about it if you’re comfortable,” both of you being victims of Doyeon’s brand of torture, you hope the two of you can at least be friends after all of this is over, “we don’t have to go have dinner with them.”

“But, Namjoon got us a table—”

“Namjoon will be fine. We can always have dinner with him another time,” you smile softly, “what matters is that you’re okay.”

His gaze melts, and you feel his grip loosen in your hold. He regards you with weak eyes, betraying the confidence he held himself to moments before. “Thanks, y/n,” he says, “I really appreciate that.”

“Anytime,” you reply honestly. “We can go to Cheesecake and order to-go. I can make some excuse about how my stomach hurts and that we should do a raincheck.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you wanna eat at one of our places or eat at the park or something?” you’re already pulling up your phone, checking out the menu. “We could invite Jin too.”

“The park sounds nice,” neither of you acknowledge the fact that you’re not inviting Seokjin, and for some reason that’s okay.

“Yeah,” you agree simply, “the weather’s beautiful.”

Under any normal circumstances, you would’ve been friends with someone like Jeon Jungkook, easily. A little part of you wishes that you could’ve met Jungkook first, but Doyeon has better connections than you and always had a good crowd around despite her inner motivations. No awkward exchange happens when you suggest to Jungkook to eat together. Even though you’re not technically dating, the two of you know that eating together is better than eating alone.

And you have to admit Jungkook’s great company. The two of you drive to a reserve nearby, overlooking a tiny lake. Instead of a fancy Italian tablecloth the two of you move your car seats down and set a spare picnic blanket in the trunk. Instead of a candlelit dinner the two of you find some emergency electric tealights in the glove compartment, lighting it up between you two as you dig into your to-go boxes.

You’re a little envious that so much time has passed by. You could’ve been a little sneakier and made a better effort to communicate with Jungkook when you saw him regularly at family parties, and maybe you two would have a better friendship today. Nevertheless, the two of you mesh like peanut butter and jelly, exchanging conversation that has your cheeks sore from smiling too hard.

By the time you get to dessert, the moon is out and the stars are floating above your heads. The two of you are at war, fighting with your forks over the last strawberry in your cheesecake slice. After some careful stabbing Jungkook manages to nab it with his fork.

He almost puts it in his mouth, but instead swipes up some whipped cream to press the last strawberry to your lips.

“I think it’s working,” Jungkook says randomly as you chew the sweet fruit, “you could see it on Doyeon’s face today. She’s unsettled.”

“Yeah,” you agree, lying down on the lavender gingham picnic blanket.

“Do you know why she fights with you all the time?”

“That’s a question I’ve been asking myself since the dawn of time.”

“I think I know why.” Jungkook looks down at you with his large doe eyes, licking innocently on a spoon of whipped cream.

“Pray tell.”

“She’s jealous of you.”

“No,” you disagree easily, “she’s jealous that I have you.”

“Bzzt! Wrong,” Jungkook puts his empty container in your makeshift trash can, falling beside you and knitting his hands under his head. You have a little window on the roof of your car, so both of you are able to stare at the navy sky, “she’s always been jealous of you. Think about it. The two of you have similar lifestyles: same career path, confidence, taste, education. But even after all of that? People still like you more.”

You scoff, hands immediately reaching to fiddle with the frayed corner of fabric next to your fingers. “I don’t think so.”

“I’ve met all of Doyeon’s friends,” he informs you, “they’re weird. Like yeah, they care about each other on the surface level. But they’re nothing of substance. They’re not like your friends.”

“Please, Doyeon has everything she could ever want,” you don’t know what kind of complex you have supporting Doyeon’s life, but something deep and insecure wants to separate you two as far away from each other as possible. “Like… she’s Malibu Barbie and I’m Polly Pocket.”

Jungkook turns to face you, resting his head between his palm and leaning on his elbow. “Do you not think you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah, but compared to Doyeon—”

“You’ve always been beautiful to me, don’t you know that?”

You choke on your saliva, feeling small and skittish at the implication behind his words. It’s been two years. You’ve only been friends for two weeks. How can he possibly say that?

“I uh, saw you once,” Jungkook coughs, and you watch the way his pale cheeks unmatch the moon and instead flit to a crimson hue, “we were at some party and you were wearing this really cute black dress with a white bow in the middle. Doesn’t even matter what party because it was random, y’know? I was gonna go talk to you but Doyeon got to me first and well, the rest is history.” He breaks eye contact with you, unable to handle it.

You remember that party, vaguely. It was random, some sort of poetry slam in a shady part of town. Doyeon and you didn’t even go with each other, you were with Taehyung and she just happened to stumble in there from another nearby party. You didn’t even know Jungkook was there that night, or how you were a hair's breadth away from meeting him before Doyeon.

“Don’t ever think you’re lesser than her just because out of all the people she chose to pick on, she chose you. It’s why she never lets you get to know her boyfriends. She’s threatened by you because you’re just as special,” something low sparks in your chest at his words, “and now that you’ve finally decided to stoop to her level and fight back with a taste of her own medicine, she doesn’t know what to do.”

Feeling like your body is on a beach and you’re sinking in sand, you soften over your picnic blanket, mulling it over. “Did I make the right choice? Stooping down to her level.” Your voice is quiet, comparable to the chirping birds and buzzing gnats outside.

“We won’t know until after the wedding,” Jungkook answers honestly, “but I do know I’m sticking with you until the end. We’re friends now, got that? You have no excuse to ignore me anymore.”

You don’t want to ignore Jungkook, never in a million years. Now you know that you are envious of Doyeon, for having an opportunity to love and care for an amazing person like him. So in a sudden bout of emotion, you roll over to straddle Jungkook’s waist.

He’s shocked, hands flying to your waist to make sure you don’t wobble off. But you’re determined, and lean down to press your lips against his. He tastes like cheesecake and strawberries, the taste melding with your own as you relish in the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You melt a little when he squeaks, breaking into a soft moan as he reciprocates the gesture. He’s warm and large and he makes you feel safe. Once your brain returns to your body, you break for air. You only pull back a few centimeters, and there’s no way for you to get off because Jungkook has locked you in place.

“What was that for?” he asks breathlessly.

“Don’t know,” you’re whispering against his lips, unable to pull away, “just felt like we needed a little more practice.”

He blinks, before relaxing in a silly smile. “I agree,” he says simply, dipping you on your back so he can be on top the second time around.

“We’re in Vegas, baby!”

Every single terrible comedy movie set in Las Vegas has brought you to this very moment. You’ve always wanted to say that line. Dumping your luggage next to Jungkook’s, you flop on the nearest mattress. Thank goodness you only wore leggings and a t-shirt on the flight, it’s the optimal sleeping outfit after a long day. Feeling something hard and plastic dig into your brain, you hold up the culprit and squeal excitedly. “Look, Kook!” you wave the crinkly confection in your hands, “they put mints on the pillows!”

Despite your room being a square with two queen beds, the hotel does not skimp on quality. The decor is ornate, the white and gold trim on the doorknobs and metal appliances shimmering beautifully. The beds feel like clouds, as you try to imagine what a cloud could possibly feel like, this is it.

Jungkook immediately follows suit, ripping off his outer clothes until he’s left in his undershirt and boxers, flopping next to you on the mattress. He immediately opens his mouth when you shoot a mint, catching it easily. “I feel like we’re in a deleted scene of Crazy Rich Asians,” he says, letting the hard mint clink around his teeth, “is this the part where you tell me your family comes from old money and I’m gonna be your sugar baby?”

“Don’t be so hopeful,” you narrow your eyes, booping his button nose with your finger.

“I’m just saying, the first class flight threw me off.”

You giggle, slapping his chest, “No. If that was true, we wouldn’t be sharing a room with my cousin. Sorry you have to share the bed with me, I got the hotel with Jin and he doesn’t want to sleep with you.”

“S’okay,” Jungkook replies softly, leaning closer to make grabby hands at you, “you’re softer.”

Tentatively, you scooch over so you can lean on Jungkook’s chest. You two have a little time before Doyeon and Namjoon’s combined bachelor and bachelorette party. The past two weeks have been nice—scratch that, the past two weeks with Jungkook have been wonderful. You never cared to measure how much time passed before meeting him, but now that you’ve begun fake-dating, time is the only thing you regard. You’re already beginning to miss him, knowing that in a week, this whole arrangement will be over.

Well, not exactly over. Jungkook says you’ll remain friends after this, but you don’t really want that. You want more, and it scares you to think he may not feel the same.

But right now you’re snuggling like an old couple, sleeping comfortably between pillow-like sheets and minty breath. Your pretend boyfriend, now your pretend boyfriend with benefits, looks soft and huggable and you want to bottle up this moment forever. You say benefits because, well, the cuddling is an added bonus. Practice practice practice, Jungkook sing songs the words you used that one night under the stars, excuses to seal his lips to your lips. You’ll never argue with that. So when Jungkook’s hand tightens around your waist and pulls you closer, you relent.

One second, you’re closing your eyes and the next, you’re waking up to Seokin’s wide eyes staring back at you.

“Eep, you creepo!” you shriek, scrambling away from him. That’s when you realize Jungkook’s missing from bed, the scent of his laundry detergent lingering between the eggshell Egyptian cotton.

“Jungkook’s in the shower,” Seokjin immediately reads your mind, pulling away so he can unpack his luggage. “My flight just got in two hours ago, you both were out like a light when I arrived.”

“Ugh, I’m really not ready to party.”

“Doyeon just texted the family group chat. She reserved the rooftop, the party starts in an hour,” he talks mindlessly, rifling through his stuff. Seokjin is fiddling with his clothes, despite the fact that you know Seokjin prepares his outfits days in advance so he doesn’t have to choose. He looks concerned, pulling out a flamingo pink boardshort and setting it down on his mattress. Finally he says, “I’m worried about you.”

“Why?”

“Because. It’s clear that you’re starting to fall for Jungkook.”

The words strike you straight in the place you’re trying to avoid. You’ve been living in a fantasy these past two weeks, thinly veiled by the whole reason you two are together in the first place. Doyeon’s wedding is just around the corner, and what then?

“I’m not saying that he doesn’t feel anything for you either,” that gets your heart skipping a beat, and you secretly hold a hand to your chest under the blankets, “but do you really want to start off a relationship like this? A relationship all messy and morally objective because it’s built on revenge?”

“Don’t worry about me,” the words easily fall from your lips, “I can take care of this.”

“I hate it when you say that,” the words are curt and harsh against Seokjin’s plush lips, “I’m allowed to worry about you, y/n. You know why? Because, because you’re my favorite cousin too,” he bites his lip, walking over so he sits on your side of the bed. “So don’t tell me what I can and can’t worry about. I want you to be happy, I want you to stop holding in this anger you have for Doyeon and move on.”

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, leaning over to press your cheek against Seokjin’s shoulder. “You’re right.”

“For the first time in a long time, you’ve finally decided to lean on someone,” and both of you know who that someone is. “I don’t want you to lose him over some petty family issue. You should tell him how you feel.”

“I will,” you wrap your arms around your cousin’s slim waist in a silent thanks.

“Am I interrupting a tender family moment?”

The two of you pull away to stare at Jungkook, leaning against the doorframe that leads to the bathroom. He’s in a plain white t-shirt and the red board shorts that you bought at the mall, cutting off mid-thigh and revealing the bulky muscle underneath. You were right, the shorts do make his thighs look thick.

Seokjin groans exaggeratedly. “Yes, yes you did.”

Jungkook immediately goes to replace Seokjin’s spot, and some stray droplets fall fresh from the shower due to his slicked-back hair. “Do you wanna get ready? First party’s soon.”

“Not really,” you admit, “you’re gonna meet the family all over again.”

“Second time’s the charm,” he winked, “I’ve already met your parents and everything. Not feeling nervous at all.”

“Oh, really?”

“Really,” and the facade cools down a little, “well, maybe a little nervous for your Aunt Lillian. Her stares give me the heebie-jeebies.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from Aunt Lillian.”

“God the two of you get worse every day,” Seokjin has magically changed into his shorts, tucking himself into the bed, “don’t wake me up until we pre-game.”

Doyeon and Namjoon don’t skimp on the festivities, although in taste the ideas are Doyeon’s in its entirety. It’s lavish and colorful, with a beautiful infinity pool in the middle decorated with lavender and pink headlights. There’s a buffet table overflowing with tasty food. There’s petal pink champagne overflowing from fountains, decorated with fresh strawberries bobbing around the fizzy drink.

“I don’t know,” Namjoon and Jungkook have been talking for well over an hour, and it’s clear how well they mesh together. Heck, you’ve accepted that Jungkook may like Namjoon more than he likes you. Jungkook’s eyes sparkle as Namjoon discusses the various genres of rap and hip-hop music, explaining the potency of mature themes in a young community, “but I will say music is like another language, knows no boundaries when it comes to sending their messages to others.”

You fight the urge to chuckle when Jungkook sighs dreamily at the music theory professor. “Wow, that’s so deep.”

Getting up from your cabana, you nudge Seokjin, who’s currently flirting it up with one of Doyeon’s bridesmaids. “Hey, wanna get a drink?” you ask, throwing your wrap on the cushions to reveal your strappy red bikini.

“And chicken tenders,” Seokjin presses a kiss to the bridesmaid’s cheek, bidding her goodbye as he follows you out of the shaded area.

“Do you two lovebirds want anything?” you stare pointedly at Namjoon and Jungkook. While Namjoon’s eyes stay in contact with you, you can’t help but smile a little more when Jungkook has a hard time keeping his gaze in one place.

“I think we’re fine,” Namjoon answers for both of them, swirling his beer bottle. “I’ll meet you two at the bar once I’m done.”

“Sure thing,” Seokjin puts a hand on your back to lead you to one of the open bars. As much as you like being in a handsome hotel with money to burn, nothing beats the fact that your entire family is here to celebrate. The elders have corroborated two cabanas for poker and other games, while your younger cousins are playing ping pong and air hockey on the other side.

“Namjoon sure is a dreamboat,” Seokjin bemoans, handing you an electric orange drink. You take a sip of it, and bug out when you realize it tastes nothing like alcohol. You’re definitely in for a night. “Like I can hear him wax music thingamajib any day.”

“I thought you were into that bridesmaid.”

“A mere diversion,” he sighs, leaning his tanned arms against the bar, “can’t ignore the deep voice Namjoon has, it’s intoxicating.”

“I’m sure Jungkook would agree,” you egg on.

“What are you two talking about?” you straighten up when the man of the hour shows up at the bar, absolutely glowing under the sunset. He orders a round for the three of you, and you immediately chug your own drink to get to the next one.

“Talking about how you’re stealing Jungkook away from me,” you joke, accepting another fruity drink from Namjoon. Damn, this stuff tastes like candy.

“Oh, never,” Namjoon replies brightly, waving the thought away, “do you see the way he looks at you? Hopelessly in love.”

Maybe it’s the copious amounts of alcohol, but you feel your stomach flip-flop at the thought of love. You’ve always known what love felt like, the warmth of Namjoon’s cheeks whenever he sees Doyeon, when your mom takes care of you when you’re sick, when Seokjin makes sure you’re not emotionally constipated 24/7. But the thought of Jungkook and you in love? It’s a feeling you secretly yearn for.

“Right? It’s disgusting,” Seokjin groans with an eye roll, “like, Jungkook wasn’t like that with Doyeon at all when they were together.”

The slip up has the three of you choking on your own thoughts, staring at each other like the three have just been told you’re on a prank show. But it is no prank, and you look at Seokjin who’s absolutely horrified.

“Oh shit,” he squeaks, looking at Namjoon guiltily, “did I say something I shouldn’t have said?”

“I don’t know,” Namjoon replies coolly, “did you?”

The ominous response gets you going, and you quickly place a hand on Namjoon’s arm, placating him. “They dated, yes. But it was only for a short time and we’ve sorted everything out. Nothing for you to worry about.”

“Oh,” Namjoon quirks his head, and regards you two with pursed lips. “I’m not one of those guys who freak out over other people’s exes. I’m just surprised that I’ve only heard this now,” Namjoon takes a slow sip of his drink, and despite your drink also being cold and refreshing, you’re absolutely sweating.

“Well, I’m sure Doyeon didn’t want to worry you.”

At the mention of his future wife, he beams. “You’re right, she’s considerate like that,” and the conversation ends just like that. He holds up his drink to the two of you, and you and Seokjin do the same. With a sharp clink he leaves you two to mull, happily conversing with the next round of guests he needs to entertain for the week.

“That guy is too nice for his own good,” you shake your head, asking the bartender for your third drink within ten minutes.

Seokjin leans over you and warbles, “So you’re telling me that Namjoon has no idea that Doyeon cheated on Jungkook in order to date him?” he’s sweating just like you are, following suit to your actions and asking to make his drink a double.

“I don’t know,” you bite your lip, your teeth worrying the dark skin, “I’ve been thinking about it for a while though. I just don’t want to get involved, you know?”

“But this is different!”

“But Doyeon’s family!”

“And all of a sudden you care about Doyeon’s feelings?” Seokjin gripes back, “it’s not about Doyeon, it’s about the both of them. And if we know something that Namjoon doesn’t, wouldn’t it be in our best interests to warn him before he seals a marriage deal that costs him over a zillion dollars?” he gestures to the extravagant wedding party.

“But we don’t even have any proof that’s the case,” you frown, “Doyeon could have changed—a little, not a lot—since meeting Namjoon, maybe she thinks it’s best to reveal as little as possible.”

Seokjin wonders what kind of family he has. One as chaotic as his takes a lot to stomach, and Seokjin likes to pride himself in his strong appetite. “Fine, let’s just keep a close eye on both of them this week. And if anything remotely fishy happens, we strike.”

“Deal.”

You return to the cabana alone, with a plate of fries for both you and Jungkook. Jungkook is also alone, laying on the lounge chair with his eyes closed. It gives you a chance to ogle your fake-boyfriend a little bit, reveling in the sight of his toned body.

Setting down your plate with a sharp rap of the glass, Jungkook opens one eye. “Hey,” he smiles, drinking in your muted expression, “you okay?”

Damn Jungkook for being able to read you so well. “I think so. It’s nothing, really.”

“Well, will you tell me if it’s something?”

“Yeah, I will.”

“So, I do have something to tell you though.” Jungkook sits up, regarding you wearily. “Can you… stand in front of me?” Confused, you shove a fry in your mouth and walk up to him as directed, your back blocking the entrance as you stand in front of him. “Okay, come closer. Now bend down,” you bend your back 90 degrees, and he presses a hand to your shoulder to stop you, “no, no. With your breasts out, just a little—there! Arch your back. Like you’re doing the Sorority Squat.”

“Excuse me—”

“The music isn’t even that loud,” he mutters to himself, “no one would need to push their boobs in my face to hear me.”

“Jungkook, is someone pressing boobs to your face?”

“Why,” he breaks into a playful grin, “jealous?”

“Not if it’s Aunt Lillian.”

“Unfortunately it wasn’t,” he twiddles with the drawstrings of his shorts. “It was Doyeon.”

Doyeon? She didn’t walk by your cabana all day. Heck, she barely greeted you when you arrived with Jungkook. But when Jungkook’s alone is when she decides to pounce? And with what motive?

“I don’t know,” he’s rambling to himself, “maybe I’m overthinking it. It was only half a second.”

“Jungkook, I have something to tell you,” you say instead, panic in your features.

“Is it something urgent?”

“Well, no but—”

“Then tell me when we get back to the room,” Jungkook easily pulls you onto his lap, and you instantly heat up when you feel your bare butt press against Jungkook’s golden thighs. “Like you said, we’re in Vegas. Let’s have fun while we can.”

“Okay,” you tuck your head between his neck and collarbone, reaching to press a kiss to his smooth jawline.

Relaxing against the plush lounge chair Jungkook feeds you fries while talking about the things he wants to do this week. It’s his first time in Vegas and he wants to make the most of it. He wants to visit all the buffets he sees on Buzzfeed compilations, relax at the pool, maybe catch a show. The thought of spending all week with him and your family is nice, and suddenly you don’t feel so awkward sitting on his lap, and eventually he pulls you between his thighs so you can lay on his chest.

“And between you and me,” he fake whispers against the shell of your ear, as if he’s telling you the biggest secret, “we’re the hottest couple here.”

The next three days leading up to the wedding are relatively uninteresting.

Uninteresting in the best way possible. On Monday you and Jungkook spend time with your little cousins, taking them to The Adventuredome, one of the resort's indoor theme parks. On Tuesday you and Jungkook go shopping at the outlet malls with your parents, blowing hundreds of dollars on cheap Levis that have your luggage bursting with a new wardrobe. In between all of that Seokjin and occasionally Namjoon joins you two in your buffet journey, hitting up the top spots and filling your tummies to the brim with delicious food.

On Wednesday, Jungkook brandishes two gold-foiled tickets in front of you, waving them around like a fan. With one finger, he pushes away your Pokémon battle, “I got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” he announces proudly, “waited in line for an hour.”

You gape, scrambling off of your bed and throwing your Nintendo Switch to the side. “Jungkook,” you marvel, “these are so expensive. How’d you manage to get a show for tonight?”

He shrugs, “Looked around.”

“You’ve been impulse buying a lot this week,” you tease, “like really, you don’t need three pairs of the same ripped jeans.”

“This wasn’t an impulse buy,” he says, “I’ve been looking around for shows. Just managed to pick them up today, so go get dressed for our date.”

Did Jungkook just call it a date? Giddy with excitement you throw the covers off, running into the bathroom to get ready. What a surprise, you didn’t think Jungkook would be into spontaneous things like this.

Seokjin left the bathroom open, so when you walk in the room it is steamy and warm. Your dear cousin is still in the shower, probably waiting for his conditioner to pass three minutes of set-in time.

“What are you getting ready for?” Seokjin asks over the rain shower.

“Kook got us tickets to Cirque du Soleil,” you chirp happily, looking through your skin care products.

“I wanna come!”

“Nope! Jungkook called it a date.”

“Oh, a date,” Seokjin drawls, putting his head under the water to rinse his hair clean. “Well then, should I vacate the room for tonight?”

“What, no!” you’ve closed the door, so thankfully Jungkook can’t hear you talking about him. “We’re not doing anything. We’re just two friends who are fake-dating going on a date.”

“Sounds like a real date, though,” Seokjin wraps a towel around himself to cover all his important bits before getting out of the shower, bumping elbows with you so he can brush his teeth. “Either way, I’ll be gone tonight. It’s my turn to watch the baby cousins. Don’t have too much fun while I'm in their room watching Despicable Me for the millionth time.”

“We’ll be sure to stop by with some pizza or something,” you tease, a little wiggle in your hips when you vacate the bathroom.

By the time you and Jungkook are ready, you two are dressed impeccably. Jungkook is wearing one of the ripped black jeans he bought on Tuesday, combined with a white button up and black blazer. A classic outfit with a little bit of Jungkook-themed flair. And to Jungkook’s surprise, you’re wearing the dress that he first saw you in, all those years ago. You’ve gained a little weight since college, but you still fill out the little black dress beautifully, the little white bow in the middle adding a simple yet adorable touch. It took a little sleuthing and searching through your old college clothes, but you were determined to find it when Jungkook reminded you how much you love the design.

Clearly from the way Jungkook is currently gaping at you like a bloated fish, he loves it too.

The show is beautiful and colorful, leaving you speechless and in tears by the end of it. Jungkook lets you hold his hand the entire time, feeling a bout of anxiety anytime the acrobats fall gracefully despite the large height.

Overall, it was a wonderful show, paired with your equally enamouring date. It’s getting harder and harder to distinguish what’s fake and what’s real in your heart, and throughout the night you’re sorely reminded that you should tell Jungkook how you feel.

But by the time you get to the room your parents are calling you, asking to get their suit and dresses out of the car so hotel service can do a last minute press and dry clean.

“I’ll be back,” you say to Jungkook, “I need to go get their clothes out of the car. They’re always so forgetful.”

“Want me to come?” he offers, hand shying away from inserting the keycard in.

“No, I’ll only be fifteen minutes, tops.”

“So I guess this is this the part where I get a goodnight kiss?” he asks cheekily, leaning on his heels so his tall frame reaches yours. You don’t hesitate to give a short peck to his pretty pink lips. He pouts at the brevity, “that was too quick.”

“Go inside,” you insist, “the sooner you get ready for bed the sooner I can get ready for bed.”

“Then more kisses?”

“Then more kisses.”

Jungkook breaks into an all-teeth smile, unable to control himself when he dips down and steals a longer, more lingering kiss to your lips. “I had a great time tonight,” he says, mimicking every single teenage rom-com protagonist who’s deeply in love with the popular jock. “Don’t take too long, okay?”

You nod, pushing him inside, “C’mon, if you stopped talking I’d be back by now!”

Once the door closes shut, you let yourself do a little dance in the hallway, wiggling your butt and giving yourself a mini-celebration. You quickly text your group chat that you just came back from the Cirque show.

Jimin: what, a date with your fake date?

Hobi: jeon jungcock? 👀👀

Jimin: whaaaaaattttt. U’ve gotta have sat in his lap at least. 3 times since you’ve started this ting

Hobi: i’ve heard things in college…

Taehyung: u are all gross and i hate u

Taehyung: but so am i bc im very curious

Just as you’re about to send a heated reply, the elevator dings, revealing a pissed off Doyeon. She’s bare-faced, in a fluffy lilac bath robe and matching puff ball slippers. You slip in right beside her, making sure there’s a comfortable amount of space between you two.

“You’re going to the parking garage too?” you ask, eyes lingering on the lit button.

“Yeah,” she’s looking at her phone, a few stray hairs from her mahogany bun falling onto her forehead, “Aunt Lillian left her medication in the car. I don’t know why she has to send me, I’m busy getting married.”

“My parents left their formal clothes in the car,” you shrug, “you know, my parents and Aunt Lillian share the same brain cell. Gotta help them out once in a while.”

The icy silence in the elevator is probably the calmest you and Doyeon have been since you’ve announced your relationship status with Jungkook. You fight the sigh, opting to take out your phone and open some unread messages.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: hurry up, the bed’s cold without u

You: lool, why do u look constipated

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: because i am, hurry up. Im bringing ur switch to the toilet and playing on your profile

You: JEON WAIT YAMPERS AT 5HP GO TO THE POKEMON CENTER U HEATHEN

You tilt your head a centimeter, feeling Doyeon breathing down your neck like Puff the Magic Dragon. You look at her with wide eyes. Her long, slender neck manages to snake its way next to your head, “Can I help you?” you ask amusedly, clutching your phone to your chest.

“Are you two really together?” she asks, batting her lashes. All this week she’s left you alone, and you’ve been wondering when she’s going to make herself known. It’s a little self-absorbed you have to admit, but ever since Namjoon’s ignorance to Doyeon’s previous relationship, you’ve been on edge.

“Of course we are,” you spit back, “I love him.”

And you must be very convincing, because Doyeon’s gaze falters just a fraction. You glare at her, staking your claim. Ever since Jungkook told you the reason Doyeon hates you is because she’s jealous, you’ve started to feel a bit of sympathy for her. Doyeon is beautiful and smart, she has no reason to feel this way. But the brain holds fickle thoughts sometimes, bringing darkness to the mind.

“He loved me first,” she bites back, lifting her chin.

“And why do you care?” you laugh tonelessly. The elevator dings open, and you’re met with the open air and concrete of the parking garage. “He may have loved you first, but he’ll love me last.”

You leave the elevator first, a little pep in your step as you make your way to the rental car to gather your parent’s things. While the words you uttered are white in nature and may not hold any sort of weight to them, it manages to bring Doyeon to her knees, absolutely quaking in the elevator.

You’re tasting revenge, and it’s sweet.

“Okay, you need to leave,” Seokjin pulls away the shot glass from your lips, “I didn’t spend days planning the itinerary for you to mess it up. Bridal party in Doyeon’s suite and the groom’s party in Namjoon’s parents suite.”

“That’s dumb,” you chastise, crossing your arms, “we’re all meeting at the same club at 10. Why can’t we pre-party together?”

“Because it’s tradition!”

“Screw tradition,” you stumble on your heels as you purse your lips at Jungkook, “Kook, when we get married I don’t wanna do a whole boy-and-girl party. We’re equals, right?”

“Of course, baby,” he cooes, being careful not to smudge your makeup when he presses his lips to the crown of your head. “But for the sake of Seokjin’s sanity, you should probably go to Doyeon’s. It’ll only be an hour or two.”

You gasp exaggeratedly at the blatant betrayal. He only grins cheekily in response, dipping down to press a wet kiss to your cheek. “Fine,” you cross your arms, snatching back your drink from Seokjin’s grasp to knock it down.

Leaving the bachelor pre-party pains you considerably. They’re having such a good time joking around the suite, telling each other fun stories and relaxing in chairs as they watch TV. This is your kind of crowd, not to mention that you can peacefully check out Jungkook’s ass in those tight dress pants without any crazy club lights distorting your vision.

From past family party experience you already have a feeling what’s coming for you in the ladies’ suite.

Loud music pours from Doyeon’s suite, and it’s completely unlocked. The bridal party is raving, ten seconds away from being completely drunk and immobile. The lights are being manually shut on and off like some sort of cheap rager, and you have to tell Yoojung to tone it down before you get a seizure.

The stench of acidic drinks and the tang of alcoholic air is palpable, and instead of a shot you opt for a glass of peach champagne to slow you down.

As you walk deeper into the suite, you notice a crowd forming by the balcony. Tapping your cousin Nari on the shoulder, you regard her with a hug and kiss. “What’s going on over there?” you ask, heels not helping you see any better.

Nari’s all blushy and pink, hiccuping as she gestures to the balcony. “Her maid of honor got Doyeon a very special gift!”

Managing to weave through the women blocking your view, you fight the urge to gag when you have a clear view of the scene in front of you.

You really don’t understand the purpose of bachelor and bachelorette parties. “One night to be single all over again!” they all say, even though they’re not actually single? Like why does the couple suddenly get one night of forgiveness when you’ve already spent years being in a committed relationship?

Why is it okay that Doyeon’s dry humping a stripper on the balcony? Her white silk dress is ruched dangerously high, soon close to flashing her family. Aunties and friends and the like are cheering her on, and she flips her head perfectly to all the phones shoved in their faces, making sure to get the perfect angle.

Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you turn back in the hopes that your other family members would be willing to have a good old-fashioned tip back with you.

You squeal when your hands accidentally land on a bare, oiled chest. You look up, mortified at the large man covered in black harnesses. “Hey babe, I’m Wonho,” he says, faking a sultry gaze as he looks at you up and down, “you’re part of the bridal party too? Wanna dance?”

Feeling naked, you push past him, careful not to get anything on your dress. Wonho? Wonno.

Jungkook loves your family.

(Except Doyeon.)

As much as he told you not to worry about him, and he’ll be completely fine when he meets your family, he couldn’t help be a little wary on the flight over. After all, it’s been two years and he didn’t know how things would be different.

Chaoticism and all, your family is a thing to be cherished. Even though Yoongi has been on mood swings that make Jungkook question his sanity from time to time, and Seokjin is secretly breathing down Jungkook’s back every time he so glances at you, he thinks things are right where they should be.

But despite all that they regarded him with familiarity, hugged and kissed him like old friends, something is different. They’ve turned over a new page for him. They don’t bring up Doyeon. They ask about his family, his job, his life in the city. They ask about how you and Jungkook met, and how happy they are for you. How happy they are for him.

Oh, how he wishes everything could be different. In another world, you two would already be together.

He wasn’t lying back at the cabana when he said you two are the hottest couple at the resort, including the bridal party (but don’t tell Namjoon). You look absolutely stunning in your sparkly red dress, accentuating all the right parts and lighting up the whole room.

When he finds you in the club you’re sitting down with your Aunties, keeping the elders company while the younger ones are flagging down the bartenders. He thinks it’s cute, how well you fit in between them, coddling you like you’re still a child in their eyes.

“Dear, your boyfriend is here!” your one Aunt yells over the loud EDM.

You lift your head up quickly, giving him the prettiest smile. Your teeth glow purple under the neon lights, and he fights the urge to laugh when he holds out a hand. “Mind if I steal her from you?”

“Of course, she’s gotta live a little!”

You pout, a little wobbly but nevertheless still in the right mind as you shuffle out of the booth to meet his awaiting arms. “Hey handsome,” your voice is thick and sweet-smelling, “come here often?”

“Only when my girlfriend does,” he replies cheekily, hands immediately coming to your butt to smooth out your dress. He shys a bit when your Aunties hoot and holler at his public display of affection, but all he wants to do was pull the hem down a little bit. No way is he going to let anyone get a flash of your goods.

“Let’s dance!” you take your hand in his, leading him to a comfortable corner of the dance floor.

Clubs aren’t really your scene, aligning with Jungkook’s sentiments towards the loud generic music and terrible smell. But you’re in Vegas, and he feels that it’s all part of the package to experience the nightlife at least once. He puts his hands on your waist and you giggle like you’re in prom, hands coming to rest on the collar of his button down.

“Hey,” he says with a lopsided smirk, “wanna make out?”

“Sure,” he notices that you don’t even check if anyone’s seeing, and it makes his heart flutter when you don’t hesitate to get on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He’s always hoped for a moment like this, a moment where the room stops spinning and both your minds click into place. It’s almost comical, how he distinctly notes that the music fades once his lips touch yours. The kiss is hot, yet intimate. Even though he makes excuses to kiss you all the time because of practice, it goes to show that you two definitely never needed it. Your tiny hands grip the collar of his button down, bringing you two impossibly close despite the hot air. His larger hands grip at the strings that hold your measly dress together, grappling at any excuse to get to your soft skin. The two of you are a natural when it comes to each other’s intimacy.

The two of you pull away, mesmerized. You haven’t kissed like that before. He melts under your stare, his thumb reaching to nick off any lip gloss that’s moved in the process.

Seokjin comes down the floor to haul you both by the shoulders, “C’mon lovebirds, they’re taking wedding shots!”

The two of you follow your cousin to the crowd of people that is your family, already with their own drinks in hand. Doyeon and Namjoon are sitting atop the bar, making a very loud toast that consisted of a quick “thank you!” and “we love you!” before downing their drinks with their arms linked together. The room is thrumming with excitement for tomorrow’s festivities, and surprisingly, you and Jungkook included. He tucks himself in your body like a puzzle piece, hugging you from behind while he watches Namjoon’s eyes sparkle with love under the neons.

The nightclub gets a little blurry after that, with the copious amounts of alcohol and shameless actions from your family and friends. By the time it’s twelve Jungkook notices you swaying at a rate that you can’t handle. He knows your limits and knows when you have to urge to pee every five minutes, it’s time to go. With a chaste kiss you leave him at the bar, deciding to make a pitstop to the bathroom before telling Jungkook you want to head up.

You’re locked in a stall when you hear Yoojung’s voice.

“Ugh,” she groans, voice echoing through the tiny room. “Jungkook is so sexy. Do you see the way he’s dancing out there? He’s a literal babe magnet, I can’t believe he ended up with someone like y/n.”

You don’t move a muscle, pressing your ear against the door that hides you. The silly slander isn’t news to you, Doyeon has been feeding her friends all sorts of bullcrap so they wouldn’t bother talking to you.

“Yeah, Jungkook’s a real treat but he dated Doyeon first. Sounds like she’s into sloppy seconds,” Elly replies, another bridesmaid you’ve met in passing. “But I don’t know, they do look happy together.”

“Please, I’m sure Jungkook’s just using her so he can get one more chance at Doyeon before she ties the knot,” you bristle, the thought of Jungkook still having feelings for Doyeon makes your heart thud painfully against your chest, “like, what a downgrade. Namjoon and Doyeon do not deserve this drama. If Jungkook ever liked Doyeon at all, he wouldn’t have come. Period.”

You slam the door open, causing Elly to squeal and Yoojung’s YSL lipstick to fall onto the sink. You’re the epitome of relaxation, walking towards the sink to wash your hands. The bridesmaids simply stare at you, unable to formulate a comeback. When you finally dry your hands, you say your next words.

“Jungkook is here because he loves me,” an act act act. This is all an act. You shouldn’t be this offended because you know it’s all false. “And you’re wrong. It’s not Jungkook that doesn’t deserve Doyeon. Jungkook was too good for Doyeon.”

And you slam your heels against the tile, stilettos pounding to the beat of the music. Your exit is full of anger and frustration as you ignore the burn in your step and the ache in your heart, flagging the first bartender you see to get you a double.

Shot for shot, that anger soon melts into guilt as Yoojung’s words sink in. The thought of Jungkook using you to get to Doyeon is terrible, you can barely stomach the thought. But that’s exactly what you’re doing, right? You’re using Jungkook to get back at Doyeon.

Why did you even want to get back at Doyeon anymore? Why do you have to prove anything to her? If she just continues to push you around, isn’t that more on her than it is on you?

Jungkook soon finds you after you’ve nursed a few drinks, leaning unceremoniously against a barstool. His eyes widen at your state, and he immediately sheds his jacket to wrap it around your waist.

“Why did you drink so much?” he chastises, “it’s the night before the wedding.”

“Jungkookie,” you warble, clutching your stomach, “I don’t feel so good.”

He sighs, bending down. “Get on my back. Make sure the jacket covers you up, okay?”

He doesn’t even grunt when you put all your weight on him, feeling like a ragdoll as he hoists you up. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, letting him carry you to your room. Most of the older family already went upstairs to sleep, so none of your cousins could care less when they see you get hauled away by Jungkook.

You inhale, he smells like sweat and cologne. “I like putting my head between your neck,” you babble, and you feel Jungkook chuckle through his chest, “you smell so nice there. It’s the bestset! Comfiest place ever, ‘specially when m’sleepy.”

“Are you sleepy now, baby?” You love how smooth the petname falls from his lips.

“I will be when we get upstairs,” you reply, happy to see the elevator is empty. “I’m just all up in my head.”

“Is that why you were drinking so much? You said you were gonna stop earlier.”

“Yeah, but,” you shamefully tuck your head in his shoulder, “I was frustrated.”

“Frustrated? At who?” concern laces his tone as he struggles to hold you with one hand and fumble for his key in the other. You tighten your legs around his slim waist until the door clicks open, and he immediately walks over to your bed to plop you down. “Babe, are you crying?” he finally has a good look at your face, horrified to see the streaks of tears mixed with mascara running down your face.

“I wa-was jealous,” you confess tearily, clutching your face in your hands, “some girls in the bathroom were calling you sexy and that you were only here so you could try to win over Doyeon. I know it sounds ridiculous and you would never do that but. The thought of you getting back with her makes me so jealous and I hate it! I’m starting to feel so guilty about this, all of this. I put all of this on ourselves and I’m ruining it.”

“Ruining what? You’re not making any sense.” Jungkook places a hand on your knee, crouching down so he can look up at you.

“I’m ruining us,” you gush despondently, “I’m ruining any potential of us before we even start.”

Jungkook freezes, hand clutching your knee like a lifeline. The potential of you two together? You’ve thought of that? Jungkook didn’t drink much tonight, so his mind is definitely running on all cogs.

Coming to a conclusion, he rubs slow, soothing circles on your knee, his other hand reaching up to wipe the tears from your face. “You’re not ruining anything,” he declares firmly, “that’s impossible. I may have agreed to fake-date you because of Doyeon, but I stayed because of you.”

His heart aches seeing you so upset, and he decides to take initiative to get you out of your clothing and ready for bed. You don’t have any words, opting to let Jungkook take care of you as you try to calm yourself down. He finds a spare t-shirt, a long one so you’ll be comfortable. He doesn’t bat an eye when he unzips your dress, in favor of balling up the shirt and getting you clothed as fast as possible. He rifles through the bathroom to find your makeup wipes, and he’s gentle when he scrubs up the once pretty makeup you spent half an hour doing. Barefaced and fresh, you look sleepy and ready to crash.

But before Jungkook can tuck you in, you clutch his arm.

“Jungkook,” you murmur sleepily, “I think I lo—”

“I know, baby,” he doesn’t want a confession like this, and he’s sure you wouldn’t want it either. You still look a little green and you’re not sober, so he makes the executive decision to pin these feelings for later. “I’m not trying to invalidate you, I promise. I want you to tell me this, all of this in the morning. We’ll talk then.”

“Okay,” you melt in the sheets, pulling the blankets up to your chest. When you see Jungkook move away from the bed, you jolt, “Where are you going?”

Jungkook smiles, reaching over to tuck you back in, “I left my blazer in Namjoon’s room. I’ll be right back, okay?”

He walks out of your room as quietly as he can, making sure to close the door slowly. Once it’s sealed shut, he leaps up, giving himself a silent cheer as he bounds down the hall. You like him back!

The smile on his face is tired but full of fervor as he makes his way to Namjoon and Doyeon’s suite. He doesn’t even care that he probably has to talk to Doyeon to get his jacket back, thoughts filled with the excitement of his requited feelings and going back to his room to cuddle up with you.

He doesn’t even have to knock when the large double doors swing open. Dumbfounded, he looks down at Doyeon, wearing a tiny black nightie and dangling his jacket with one finger. It’s an outfit that leaves nothing to the imagination, and he feels his neck heat up at the feeling he’s encroaching on an intimate moment.

“You left this,” she says slowly, a tiny smirk on her lips.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, making sure not to touch her when he grabs his blazer.

In her other hand she holds up her room’s designated ice bucket. “Could you also get me some ice, please? Namjoon’s fast asleep and I really don’t want to walk out all… exposed.”

He swallows his sigh, knowing it’s going to take significantly longer to get back to you when Doyeon drawls like this. “Of course,” he replies tersely, “after all, you are the bride.”

“Thanks, Jungkookie.”

He makes quick work of getting Doyeon the ice, pumping his long legs down the hall. The ice room is cold and cramped, barely enough for his tall frame to fit in. He jabs the container in the holder, pressing the button ten times per second to get as much ice out as possible.

As soon as he turns around with the ice, he drops the whole bucket.

Like glass, it shatters onto the ground, hundreds of little clear pebbles skimming across the floor like marbles. Doyeon’s pushing Jungkook against the ice machine, freshly manicured hands splayed across his chest. Her body is flush against his, making sure that he feels all of her with her thin silk gown.

“What the fuck, Doyeon get off of me!” a little part of him hopes she’ll come to her senses on her own so he doesn’t have to put his hands on her.

“C’mon, Kookie,” her voice is a sickly candy sweet, her eyes wide with hunger as she takes in his form, “just one more night, you and me. Like old times. One more night before I tie the knot.”

“You’re crazy,” he balks, running his hand through his hair, “this is sexual harassment, do you know that?”

“You don’t mean that, Kookie,” Doyeon dips a red-tipped nail down his chest, “why settle for someone like y/n when I’m right here?”

He grabs her wrists, firm. She winces at the contact, but doesn’t say anything when Jungkook delivers her a scary glare. It gets her quiet, fearful of this version of Jungkook. Doyeon’s never seen Jungkook like this before, so unwilling to bend at her whim and emanating all his power against her.

“Why settle for your cousin?” he whispers like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “because, I love her.”

Her lip curls in disgust, nails digging into the palm of his hand. “But you loved me first.”

“And I’ll love her last,” he spits pack, letting go of her. His anger splits for a brief second, regarding Doyeon with sorrow, “this is low, even for you.”

Jungkook pushes past the ice, wobbling out of the ice room. He doesn’t look back, he just knows that he needs you right now. He needs to tell you everything, figure out a plan to cancel the wedding or something.

But when he crashes inside the room, you’re dead asleep. He can’t find the courage to wake up Seokjin as well, who returned and is sleeping in his club outfit. He groans, feeling useless as he stares at the two of you, ignorant of what just conspired ten minutes ago.

And Namjoon, what is he going to tell Namjoon? Poor guy doesn’t deserve any of this.

Walking up to your side of the bed, he tucks your loose hair behind your ear. You look so peaceful now, so beautiful.

It’s just going to have to wait until the morning.

The morning of the wedding, you wake up alone.

The first thought that runs through your head is that Jungkook has rejected you. The little, insecure bug that will never go away in your brain fills you with rash thoughts. He’s on a flight half way back home and he regrets this whole week.

But after that exaggeration, you notice two aspirin and a bottle of water on your nightstand, along with your phone that’s fully charged.

You pull up the screen to check the dozens of messages that flood your app.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: morning babe, im sorry i had to leave early. Namjoon showed up at our door freaking out that his suit is the wrong fit and shade. Now im running around vegas trying to find a replacement that doesn’t look like an elvis presley extra

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: but i didn’t forget what you said last night, i promise! Just go get ready and i’ll meet u at the chapel outside the resort.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: i also have something to say to you

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: wow i didn’t realize how ominous that sounds. Dw, everything will be fine

When someone tells you something will be fine, it’s a universal agreement that no, things will not be fine.

So you get dressed, and put on your makeup mindlessly. You don’t really know what to make of Jungkook’s cryptic message, but you decide to leave those thoughts in the back of your mind as you go to the other rooms to help your family get ready.

Seokjin is busy tying the ring bearer’s tie, looking handsome with his slicked back hair and polished grey suit. “Morning, cousin,” he sing-songs, “you look beautiful today!”

You smooth out your dress, a cascading silver number with starry sparkles. You feel like you’re living out your magical girl fantasies, wrapped up in layers of tulle and a sparkly sweetheart bodice.

“Right back at you. Say, you didn’t see Jungkook this morning, did you?”

“No, but I heard he’s with Namjoon hunting for a new suit. Why?”

“Nothing,” you lean against the guest table, “he just said something really ominous over text.”

“I will never get a peaceful day so long as I’m in this family,” he says this directly to the ring bearer, a toddler who’s obviously confused at his uncle’s weird sayings.

Your phone beeps conveniently, displaying Jungkook’s name.

Jeon Jung-boo-thang: just got his suit. We’ll be there in fifteen. Meet me at the garden behind the chapel, please. It’s urgent

Now you’re just worried. So you tell Seokjin your sentiments, and that he should have his phone on hand in case you needed him. With a confused nod, you leave him to go down to the garden.

The groomsmen and bridesmaids are already at the chapel taking pictures. Only the wedding party is really allowed at this time, but you manage your way through the gardens virtually undetected. Jungkook’s already waiting for you, hiding under a white gazebo overlooking the hotel’s fountain.

He looks gorgeous in his all black pinstripe suit, hair pushed back and pants fitted perfectly around his waist and thighs. When he sees you he gets up, full of skittish energy. You note that his hair isn’t even styled, only washed and curling slightly at the ends, as if he’s in a rush.

“W-wow,” he marvels when you rush up to him, “you look gorgeous.”

You drop the handful of silver tulle, letting it fall to the floor. “Jungkook,” you clasp his hand in both of his, guilt flooding your eyes. You’ve been thinking about this all morning, and you need to cut to the chase. Jungkook tries to open his mouth but you silence him with a finger on his lips. “I can’t—I can’t do this. I know this sounds really stupid and you probably don’t want anything to do with me after this, but I shouldn’t have made this elaborate scheme,” you bite your lip, feeling even more antsy as Jungkook squirms in his grip. He however, is trying very hard to focus with his eyes, confused at your sudden confession. “I like you, Jungkook. I don’t want to parade you around like a revenge plot anymore, it isn’t fair and it’s wrong in so many ways—”

“That’s great,” he says simply, brown eyes swirling with thoughts, “um, ditto. But—”

“Wow,” you frown, “I pour my heart out to you and this is what I get?”

“It’s great that you want to be selfless right now,” Jungkook takes your hand, firm and tight, “but without this elaborate scheme, we wouldn’t be saving asses like we are right now.”

“What are you talking about?” You thought Jungkook rushed you down here so you could talk about each other’s feelings before the wedding.

“Doyeon just threw herself on me last night. I got her ice and she took that as an invitation to seduce me like an episode of Sex and the City. Namjoon needs to divorce her, like yesterday.”

Your face then morphs into something dark and ugly, and you fling your whole confession out the window. The thought of Doyeon going as far as throwing herself on Jungkook as a last ditch attempt to get back at you, has you seeing blood red. “What? Why didn’t you tell me this sooner!”

“You were asleep!” he shoots back, putting his hands on your shoulders. He rubs warm strokes up and down your bare arms, “please relax. You’re shaking.”

“And why didn’t you tell Namjoon when you were driving around all morning?”

“I tried to!” he retorts, hands swinging in the air. You huff when his hands land back on your shoulders, preventing you from running to the chapel to extract Doyeon out yourself, “but he just kept talking shit about how much he loves Doyeon and he can’t imagine being together with anyone but her and I felt so bad! I’m sorry I chickened out. I really don’t wanna be the one to break Namjoon’s heart. I’m just the plus one!”

You pinch your brows, mulling it over. “Fuck it, let’s crash a wedding,” you declare, “where’s Namjoon and how can we get him alone?”

Jungkook exhales, a hand carding up to loosen his thin silver tie. “He’s taking pictures with the groomsmen right now. It’s gonna be awhile before we get a chance to talk.”

“Fuck,” you curse, sitting down on the white bench. Jungkook presses soothing circles on your back. “We have no choice, we have to get to him before the ceremony starts.”

“You’ll have to get through me, first.”

Doyeon’s not even in her wedding dress when she strides up to the two of you. She’s in ballet flats with her hair and makeup done, but the only thing she’s wearing is the thin underdress of her actual ball gown, a simple silk negligee that reaches her ankles. You don’t even know how she’s managed to escape the bridal party, especially without her dress.

Feeling protective, you step in front of Jungkook. “Before you say anything,” you murmur, “I’m not ruining your wedding, and I never wanted to. You’re ruining it because of your mistakes.”

“Oh, boo-hoo,” Doyeon rolls her eyes, playing with her nails, “I didn’t even do anything wrong, everyone knows that on the bachelorette’s night she can do whatever she wants. Namjoon could’ve fucked whoever too if he wasn’t so faithful.”

“Namjoon is ten times the partner you are and would never do that,” You’re seeing red, unable to comprehend the complete garbage spilling from Doyeon’s lips. “You touched my boyfriend without his consent, and I will never forgive you for that,” your voice is scarlet, angry and thin.

“It’s not like he isn’t used to it, I—”

“NO!” the sound that comes out of your mouth has all three of you flinching, and you’re thankful the gazebo is far enough so that the rest of the wedding party is oblivious to your actions. “You’re not allowed to justify yourself anymore, Doyeon. What you did was fucked up, what you’ve done to all of us is fucked up!” You realize now that you didn’t need to get back at Doyeon with a fake date, what you needed was this. You needed a reprieve, a chance to lay down your law. “Jungkook was right all along. You are jealous. You’re jealous and selfish and have no shame. You think you own whatever you set your eyes on, but you’re wrong. We’re not objects, we’re people.”

You walk up to Doyeon, eye to eye. You jab a hand at her chest, pushing her back slightly. You soak up your cousin’s expression, and you watch as Doyeon’s eyes pop out in surprise at your act of boldness. “So you have a choice here. You can either swallow your pride and leave Namjoon at the aisle quietly and save whatever dignity you have left. Take your pathetic ass on the next flight back home and pack up your apartment. Or, we can start a big scene at your ceremony,” you probably look manic, filled with freshly injected power, “I know Seokin’s always wanted to yell ‘I object!’ at a wedding.”

“You have no proof,” Doyeon glares right back, taking a step closer to you. Your noses are practically touching, but you dig your heels in the white-stained wood, puffing up your chest and standing your ground.

“Doesn’t matter,” you bite back, “what matters is that Namjoon will doubt you. Namjoon knows we’d never do anything to sabotage a wedding without a valid reason. Even if you do get married tonight, we have Jungkook’s word and proof of a relationship that overlaps with his. I find this option to be far worse because it’s prolonging the inevitable,” you shrug, “I hope you two didn’t sign a prenup.”

Hot, angry tears mess up her meticulously done makeup. Black rivers carve through her porcelain skin, showing the feelings that have been dormant since been hidden under a facade. Doyeon’s eyes dart back and forth between the two of you. She’s practically vibrating in combined fear and rage, seeing blurry images and memories and regrets of what could’ve been if not for her self-absorption. And finally, your cousin comes to a decision.

“I hate you,” she emphasizes each word with the most concentrated of venoms in her tone. WIth one last look at the two of you, she stomps away. Instead of going to the direction of the chapel however, she takes the shortcut back to the hotel.

Her grave words are unsurprising, but nevertheless disappointing. A thinly veiled smile grazes your lips, sadder than ever as you watch your cousin go. “And I pity you.”

As soon as she’s gone Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to scoop you up, hugging you tightly as you fight the urge to cry again. “Oh babe, that was really hot. The way you stood your ground? That was amazing!” Jungkook takes out his silver pocket square to wipe the stray tears that threaten to ruin your makeup. “You’re so strong, don’t you know that? You did it and I’m so proud of you.”

As much as you want to revel in the affection, go back and bed and fall asleep until noon, you can’t. Grasping Jungkook by the hand, you tug him to the chapel. “C’mon,” you say, “we have to corner Namjoon.”

The groomsmen photos are done by the time you get there. Thankfully, the to-be-groom doesn’t look too occupied. His eyes widen upon seeing you two stumble from the garden of all places.

“Oh, y/n. Jungkook,” Namjoon tilts his head curiously at how winded you two look, equally flushed and out of breath. From your state, Namjoon muses that it must've taken a lot of effort to finally get to the groom unattended, save for a few random family members he’s making small talk with, “The wedding isn’t for another hour but I must say, you two look radiant together. Doyeon always thought you’d end up an old spinster-catlady, but I always told her that you’re too beautiful to be single for long,” he pauses to send the aforementioned man a wink, “Jungkook’s a lucky guy. What were you two doing back there?”

“Uh, things?” Jungkook scratches the back of his head, not wanting to reiterate the fiasco between Doyeon moments before.

Namjoon smirks at the ebony-haired man, “Couple things?”

You can’t take this needless small talk anymore. With a teary groan, you throw yourself at Namjoon. You hug him tight, and you don’t even care when you feel a slosh of his water bottle sprinkle your hairstyle.

“Joonie,” you bemoan, “please, please don’t leave me. You’re the best not-cousin ever. I know it’ll be a pain to face Doyeon after today but you’re a strong independent man and when you’re ready Jin is single and ready to mingle—ow! Jungkook! Did you just pinch my ass?”

“Do you really think setting him up with the next cousin is the best idea right now?”

“I figured a little humor would lighten the blow,” you sulk.

“I’m sorry what—what blow?” Namjoon frowns, pushing you away from him. “Y/n, have you been crying?”

The tears resurface at that moment, like a kettle on overboil. Namjoon’s face is knitted together, unable to grasp at any conclusion. Namjoon feels something grave is upon the sky as he tenderly brushes away your tears with his thumbs before releasing you. Instantly Jungkook pulls you to his chest, patting you soothingly. As much as you two do not want to be the bearer of bad news, the time is now.

“Namjoon,” Jungkook says, finding the strength that was previously stuck in his throat, “we have to tell you something.”

Needless to say, Las Vegas is very forgiving when it comes to last minute wedding cancellations.

The whole wedding party, both Namjoon and yours, collectively feels like a whole ice bucket has been dumped upon your families. You would like to say that the whole issue was handled mess free, but that would be a bald-faced lie.

There was screaming, crying, hysterical laughter from all sides. Doyeon’s parents were of course furious, embarrassed, unable to calm down a hysterical Doyeon as they haul her on the next flight home. You have a feeling they won’t be showing up to family events anytime soon.

Namjoon’s family leaves quietly, frustrated, but classy. After all, they know at the back of their heads they dodged a bullet. Everyone leaves except Namjoon however, who isn’t quite ready to go back to his and Doyeon’s apartment. Namjoon invites Seokjin and some other close cousins to stay in his suite until their flight tomorrow afternoon, wanting to be surrounded by close friends and (almost) family.

As for your family, they decide to find the silver lining. While the chapel was able to cancel the wedding, the reception wasn’t as easy to sway. At the very last second, your grandparents decided to make use of the reception and renew their Golden Anniversary vows instead. The ceremony will be a quick, sweet affair. At this very moment, your cousin Yoongi is getting officiated online.

And for you? You’re in the place where you’ve wanted to remain all week. A fluffy hotel bed wrapped up with your not-boyfriend.

Or?

Would a not-boyfriend be snuggling against your chest like you’re the softest teddy bear in the toy shop? Would a not-boyfriend be hooking your leg atop his lap, forcing you to latch onto him so his hands can roam freely against your soft thighs?

“We have to get ready for the wedding,” you whine against his hold, to no avail when he only holds you tighter.

“But your grandparents are already married,” Jungkook whines right back, nuzzling his nose in your head. “This is like an afterparty fifty years later.”

“I wanna get dressed,” you insist, pushing yourself up, “and we still need to talk.”

Without Seokjin staying with you, the hotel room feels much bigger and freer for the two of you. Your clothes are scattered on the floor, uncaring of any wrinkles or smears that would get on the delicate fabric.

All that matters is that Jungkook is still here with you. Doyeon’s wedding is called off, but he’s still lying in bed with you. You want to burn this image to memory, and keep it forever. Jungkook laying in only his white undershirt and boxers, looking at you dreamily as if he’s still in nap-mode. Hair that was previously windswept and exposing his forehead is now out of place, fluffy and sticking out in all directions. His cheeks are flushed with coral-colored warmth, and a little puffy because you two have been sleeping most of the afternoon.

“Right, talk,” he repeats, letting you hand him his black button up so he can clothe himself.

You throw off your shirt somewhere behind you, not wanting to face him as you walk to the full-length mirror. “So, I think my feelings for you are pretty clear and out in the open…”

“Same, I think I made it pretty clear as well.”

“What? You turn around, looking at where he’s still half-covered in bed. “You did not. I distinctly remember almost confessing my love to you last night. And then this morning, only for you to cut me off and say ‘that’s great’.”

“Oh,” he stares at the white sheets that cover his lower half. “I guess I didn’t then.”

You smile wryly, turning back to face the mirror so you can slip into your dress that’s been pooled around your ankles like a silver halo. “Maybe you thought it in your mind and forgot to tell me.”

That seems about right. Jungkook has a tendency to be a little too passionate for his own good, windswept in thoughts and feelings until they consume him. He hops out of bed, walking only in his dress shirt and socks as he makes his way to the mirror. “Then let me do all the talking,” he says softly against your neck, hands on your hips.

You shiver when you feel the cold silver of the zipper whirr up your body, Jungkook’s large hands splaying across your back to smooth out the waistline.

“You of all people would know that being with Doyeon is a trip,” he chuckles into the crook of your neck, “I thought that was what love felt like. Being codependent, jumping through hurdles, trying so hard to please someone who can’t be pleased.”

Jungkook’s hands wrap around your waist, hugging you tightly. He squeezes you and holds you like the most precious thing in the entire world. Through the mirror, you two are quite a pair.

“But with you, I never knew love could be like this, feel like this.”

“So… are you saying you love me?” you fight the urge to bounce around in his grip, the biggest smile on your face.

“You really just want me to say ‘I love you’ and be done with it, huh?”

Within seconds he’s pulling you from behind, whirling you around to the edge of the bed. He manages to flouce up your skirts to billow around his lap, sitting you down on his bare thighs.

“You look like a cupcake, all sprawled up like this,” Jungkook says cutely, peppering kisses in a trail from your chest all the way to your lips. “You look like a huge, silvery cupcake and I love you. It’s so easy to love you.”

Maybe it was kismet that Jungkook didn’t get to you first all those years ago. Maybe the right time is right here, right now.

“I love you, too,” you say happily, dipping down to press a long, passionate kiss to his lips. He tastes like love and a happy future. When you pull away, you encapsulate his face in both your palms, regarding him like the sun and stars. “But you know, if we date you’ll never get away from my crazy family.”

Jungkook snorts, pressing his forehead to yours, “And miss Yoongi re-marrying off your grandparents tonight, the next year of Seokjin and Namjoon running circles around each other, and a lifetime of happiness?” his hands snake under your dress, finding purchase in your soft skin, “not a chance.”

#jungkook x reader #gcn23 #goldenclosetnet #btsghostie #kwritersworldnet #jungkook fic #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst

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zozophoenixxx · 3 years

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Serotonin Booster :D 🐉

How to train your dragon edition

Here are some things I had forgotten or little details I just noticed on my rewatch, maybe even Unpopular Opinions 🤭👀

✨Race to the Edge ✨

SEASON 5

Meatlug and Toothless messing around in ep1 when Hiccup and Fishlegs are trying to figure out how to stabilize the island 🥺

I remember when I first watched this I was actually in bio and hearing Ruff and Tuff talk about symbiosis was like " WOW IM LEARNING THAT" 😂😂😂

Symbiotic relationship - symbiosis is the interaction between organisms living in close physical association to the advantage of both

It can lead to -> parasitism - a non-mutual symbiotic relationship between species where the parasite benefits at the expense of the host

- Hookfang and Snotlout have a parasitic relationship JAHDHAHSHA

wait I like that instead of calling a relationship toxic now imma be like "this shii is parasitic peace out ✌🏼️"

HICCSTRID FOREHEAD KISSES OMG😭

I like how Barf and Belch are incredibly strong, I feel like it's a fact that's usually ignored about them

Astrid: *talking about Garf* that dragon has a lot of fight in him

Hiccup: *while placing his hand on her shoulder* he's not the only one

I can't ok I love them too much 🥺

WAIT I JUST NOTICED THE FORESHADOWING WHEN THE TWINS WERE REFERRING TO JOHAN AS A PARASITE OMG 😳

THE BETROTHAL NECKLACE 😭😭😭

Fishlegs licking Astrid's hand is hilariousss nonono it's just that scene in general when Fishlegs is trying to help Astrid find the betrothal gift for Hiccup and she judo-flips him and then sits on him like 🤔

Sandbuster - doesn't like the light. Lives underground.

Astrid riding Toothless to save Hiccup. Just badass.

Hiccup giving Astrid the betrothal necklace and telling her that it's ok that she didn't get him anything bc she's the best gift in the world 🥺

And their hug and the way he moved her out of harm's way whenever Snotlout threw the sword

Still sad abt Shattermaster being replaced by the Triple Stryke

I really liked ep3 whenever they were in Berserker island bc we got to see them actually fighting in battle without their dragons it was pretty cool

The beginning of ep4 is also hilarious I can't with Astrid and Snotlout fighting and then also Astrid beating him up JAHDHAHSHA

- I also always wanted to know what Snotlout said to her 😭😭😭 all of them were just extremely concerned and shocked and Snotlout even had to leave the Edge UGH AHZHZHAG

Atali and the Wingmaidens 👏🏼🤩

"Males would neither understand, nor would they be helpful." Atali is a queen

Vanaheim - the last resting place of all dragons

"Sadness is a matter of perspective. It is how you choose to view something that makes it happy, scary, intriguing, or sad"

Ok so is Stormfly a tracker-class dragon or a sharp-class dragon?

Sentinels - Know all the dragons so they know how to deal with each of their tactics. Run Vanaheim. Have never encountered night furies. Good trackers. Blind. They tend to the island

OMG I FORGOT THAT VANAHEIM IS THE SKELETON OF THE KING OF DRAGONS

HAND HOLDING AND KISSES UFFF THANK U

Hiccstrid kiss count: 3😘

It's the way it's so realistic too, the way he smiles at her, the way he holds her hand and looks at her, the way she puts her hand on his chest and he lightly touches it with his free hand I just can't they're too perfect

Snotlout's excitement to see that Fishlegs was Fishlegs again and not Thor Bonecrusher- I mean the dude went running towards him🥺

I love how Hiccup just knows when Astrid's thinking about something

SPARRING HICCSTRID UGHHH I LOVE THIS SCENE

The way he's just in such a good mood afterwards 🥺

The scene leading up to the moonlight flight in ep7. I love them so much.

Hiccstrid Scene: ep7 min 5:42 -> 7:24

Meatlug's shot was the first to free a Singetail from a dragon flyer

Just realized that Johan not being able to get Hiccup's oil was probably also part of a plan to get them away from the edge to attack

Ok but Snotlout actually taking the initiative to be the leader while Hiccup and Astrid were away

The edge 🥺and when he destroyed his own Hut 🥺 I can't 🥺

I love how Mala and Throk were both trying to put the gang in a better mood

Silicates makes Meatlug drool

Tuffnut's Spanish is amazing we love to see a bilingual king✋🏼👑

Just realized that Krogan's name is well... Krogan. I never actually paid attention to the dude.

OMG WE GET TO SEE DRAGO IN THIS SEASON THIS IS CRAZY

I really like the twins in the Wings of War Episodes, the way they attempt to speak Spanish and start pronouncing the Rrrrrrrrs

Spitelout too lmao the way he helped Hiccup 🤩

It was also Spitelout the one that figured out that the Singetails don't like the altitude

I really love how Hiccup actually found a way to fight the flyers without hurting the Singetails, OMG IT REMINDS ME OF AANG when everyone was telling him to just kill the FIRELORD he found the right way

Tuff has a feet fettish

Stormfly and Garff messing around is too funny I love them sm 😭

Snotlout can be so sad sometimes

The twins singing >>

And that hug between Stormfly and Garff, they're just adorable 🥺🤧

HAHDHSHAHA THE WAY ASTRID LOOKED AT FISHLEGS WHENEVER THE SLITHERWINGS SHOWED

Slitherwings - very poisonous dragons! Even their skin is coated in poison. Like snake appearance. Not much is known about its poison and how it works but there is an antidote -> combination of angel fern root, pine sap and Slitherwing venom. The skin coating protects them from Garff's amber

Stormfly is such a badass omg I love her sm the way she protected Garff

Garff is an excellent shot according to Fishlegs

Fishlegs telling Astrid to look at him is just adorable, the way he wanted her to feel better 😭

Have I mentioned how much I love lil Hiccstrid moments? They dont even have to be romantic but just them? Like he just lightly touched her shoulder and told her to be strong and be there for Stormfly 🥺

Snotlout actually being worried about Astrid 🤧

I will never get over Astrid and Stormfly's relationship and how close they are, they would do anything for each other and Astrid just proved that by going up to the Slitherwing and PUNCHING THE LIL SHIT just to get Stormfly the antidote. AND WHEN SHE STARTED CRYING!!! As Tuffnut said "no one has ever prepared us for something like this"

And the Ruffnut being there for her and protecting her 😭😭😭

Astrid can actually draw

Still pissed about the fact that Hiccup never knew Astrid got poisoned NOW I NEED TO READ A FANFIC ON IT

That scene in Snuffnut [ep11] where Throk arrives to take Ruffnut as his wife is too funny. The way Astrid is pissed since the beginning and both Hiccup and Fishlegs are like "umm nope" AND WHEN HICCUP TAKES ASTRID OUT OF THE SCENE AND ALL YOU CAN HEAR IS HIM SCREAMING AND THESE RANDOM NOISES 😩😩😩😂

It really bothered me that Astrid had to stay behind in Looking for Oswald... And Chicken [ep12] just to take care of the twins when we could've had some Hiccstrid 😩😭 but it makes sense because Astrid is the only one Hiccup can actually trust on to keep things under control because even though Fishlegs is kinda sane neither the twins nor Snotlout would listen to him and Snotlout would definitely join the twins or just make things worse somehow. I mean they've both proven themselves to be fully capable but well- yk... Astrid is just Astrid

Astrid and Stormfly's faces whenever the twins said they needes a dragon that loves tracking and chicken😭😂😩

Chicken covering her tracks and Snotlout as narrator 😂

Omg Dagur saw Oswald's dead body... He even had to bury him and wow-

Grim Gnashers - hunters that prey on the sick dragons in Vanaheim.

Chicklet🐥🐥🐥🐥

SNOTLOUT'S TAN LINE OMGGG

"Please let me hurt him. Please? Just-- just a little?"JAHSHAHAJAJ I LOVE AGGRESSIVE DAGUR

Fishlegs saying that "Snotlout can actually be pretty handy in an air battle" is so true. Like we mostly see Snotlout as this dumb, sarcastic, rebellious dude who doesn't care about anyone but himself and but that's actually not true he's actually caring and will fight for the ones he loves but he won't say that because he cares too much about what others think of him 😭

I really dislike Johan sm u guys don't understand like I used to like him and feel bad whenever ppl cut him short but ughhhhhhh it's the subtle things too like him telling Heather to give them the dragon eye, him screaming in Snotlout's ear, not extending his hand to grab Heather, and him putting his hand out to "grab" the lens but just causing Snotlout to drop it

The way Heather jumped to get Windshear and the way Windshear kept telling her to leave and save herself

Archipelago gold = The clouds of corn = pop corn

I can't believe I'm about to start season 6 this is actually so sad

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ravenekrops · 2 years

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RUFF LORE RAZ LORE AAAAAA HI IM SORRY! Good on the teens for not telling! I think! ma'am hunter please razzis firend:( the transformations are cool!! but also i don't really know what the right thing to do here is.. ruff is dangerous but if they like contain him with science or smth idk or imprison razz altogether it would be really bad and:(((( how did he even end up there?? was razz born with him? so so sorry for taking a while!!! im still here!

yee, good for them! this way they gain his confidence in a very solid way, and he'll be eternally grateful to them. he really values when people genuinely put their trust on him :]

i do have the scene where the hunter finally catches Raz kinda figured out, but it needs more polishing before i post it here ehe. you'll have to wait for that one :3c

there's really not a "right thing to do" here, this isn't a heroic story with an obvious, predictable happy ending and a lesson to be learnt. not saying this won't have a happy ending either! i just prefer to keep things more original and realistic than your regular fairy tale. complete happy endings are very rare and hard to get, a lot of things have to go well for them to occur, so i want to aim for the more tangible "lesser evil" kind of ending. let's cross our fingers so things end up well!

Ruff is only dangerous because it feels trapped and restrained by Raz. imagine if your entire existence and mind was constantly being drowned by someone else. you too would desperately try to claw your way out of the darkness...

i don't believe science can be used to contain the supernatural in this case, those two don't mingle well as far as scientists know. or maybe they just haven't found the correct way to approach it...? it remains a mystery for now 🤷

i have an idea as to how his childhood was, although i'm not sure about it...

the idea would be that his biological parents were killed by a werewolf while he was only bitten, after which the werewolf was able to revert back to human form before killing him too. seeing the massacre that he had created, the man inmediately regrets his actions and takes Raz with him, deciding to take care of him to repent for what he had done. this man is the one who gave Raz his name, and he takes care of him until he's a toddler, living in the wilderness as he's been doing for a very long time, away from human contact. one day while his adoptive father is transformed and Raz is in his human form with him (maybe playing or having Raz habituated to his big form), some hikers spot them in the woods and inmediately call for help, thinking that kid Raz is in danger of being eaten by a wild animal. he gets killed while protecting Raz as he manages to transform and runs away.

days later he is discovered in a different town by an old man cowering inside his chicken pen, shivering and covered in blood after having eaten several chickens because he couldn't find food on his own (i have this scene engraved in my mind, i might end up drawing it and all 👁️👁️). the old man and his wife decide to take him in. after a few days they learn that the kid's a werewolf and despite being scared they still decide to take care of him, convinced that they can properly teach him to not be dangerous. they are obviously wrong, as you can't tame a werewolf by external means, he's too dangerous and they're too fragile to be able to properly help him. after an accident in which one of the old people gets severely hurt by him, Raz ends up running away when he's around 15, becoming officially homeless.

that's all i got for now! i definetely need to keep going, i'm so curious to see what happens next, hopefully just as much as you are! the story is out there, waiting for me to uncover it. i can feeel it....

#don't worry anon. take all the time you need! seeing you around makes me happy regardless of the time that passes between asks 😄#about OCs #Raz #it's like 1am and i'm going to sleep so i'll program this ask to be posted tomorrow morning uwu #again thanks a lot for your interest anon! your sole presence inspires me to develop Raz at unmatched speeds! it's unreal i swear #nexverse

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hobis-hope94 · 3 years

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~ Captivity 7 ~

AN: I’m working on Wednesday (Captivity’s normal uploads!) so I’m posting it tonight! I might be able to post part 8 in the evening - depending on what time we wrap ✨ oh and this has an au ending to TWS & slightly Civil War too, Soz for any confusion!

Characters: f!reader, Steve Rogers, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff. Bruce Banner & Bucky Barnes are mentioned.

Warning: mention of injury, mentions of Bucky as The Winter Soldier, mentions of food, slight violence? Angst with a little fluff.

✨ Part 6 here ✨

https://fangirllife98.tumblr.com/post/660741329915166720/captivity-6

Y/F/B/N - Your Favourite Boy’s Name

Y/F/D/B - Your Favourite Dog Breed

Y/F/C/B - Your Favourite Cat Breed

(gif not mine)

“Month five,

You’re almost here little one and I’m so excited. I’m quite big now. You’re nearly here. I love feeling you kick, it’s a beautiful feeling.

I won’t know what gender you are until you’re born. So I thought:

Y/N for a girl and Y/F/B/N for a boy, as long as you’re happy and healthy I don’t mind what gender you are.

I promised I’d tell you about dogs and cats and other animals didn’t I? Well, dogs are adorable. There’s so many kinds of dogs, big small and medium sizes. My favourite dog is Y/F/D/B. They’re so cute!! I also do love cats, they come in all shapes and sizes too. My favourite cat is Y/F/C/B, they’re beautiful.

Other animals include horses, donkeys, monkeys, cows, pigs & chickens. They’re just the popular ones, I’ll draw you some more animals on this letter.

My little bubba, as it’s coming close to you being here I’ll keep telling you how much I love you. How much you mean to me and that I hope I get to hold you and love you.

I love you.

Mom xxx”

——

You woke with a bad back, you had slept on your position against the wall, waiting for Bucky to come back.

Your neck was even worse today, it ached from the position you laid in but the bruises were angry.

The cuts caused by the glass still stung but luckily they had stopped bleeding, you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

You did feel a little faint, but you weren’t sure if that was due to hunger or dehydration.

You shot up, causing whip lash straight away. You saw a man, not the same agent you’re used to. You saw a man with golden short hair, blue eyes, tall. You saw the man Bucky described.

“You Y/N?” He asked.

You nodded slowly, another man came into view. He also had golden hair. He wore all black and had a crossbow.

“Cap, don’t stall,” the other man said urgently.

“Right. Y/N. You don’t have to be scared. We’re setting you free. I’m Steve Rogers, this is Clint Barton. We’re the Avengers,” the man with a weird looking weapon said.

“…where’s Bucky?” You whispered, not sure if you can trust him.

“On the quinjet with the rest of the team,” the man named Steve said.

“Nat, we’re gonna have to get Bruce to look Y/N over. She’s covered in cuts and bruises,” Clint said on the comms.

“C…can I grab something really quick? It’s in here I promise,” you said.

Steve nodded. You slowly went over to your hard shell of a bed. You lifted up the “mattress” (you wouldn’t call it one, it was more like a large brick on wooden legs), and gently grabbed your mum’s letters. You counted to make sure you had all nine.

“Ready,” you said, holding the letters and facing the men.

They didn’t ask what they were, the men simply nodded.

“Stand in the middle of me and Clint. Keep close to me, alright?” Steve said gently, you nodded.

It was clear that these two men were indeed the good guys. They had taken out all the bad people who hurt you and Bucky over the years. You clutched your mum’s letters tightly in your hands as you were led back to the jet.

“Hi,” said a kind looking lady with red hair. “I’m Natasha. You can call me Nat,” she said gently as you were guided onto the quinjet.

“Hi, N-Nat. I’m …. Im …” you said.

Suddenly you felt faint. You remembered collapsing, hearing lots of shouting going on around you.

—-

You woke up moments later with half blurry vision, once your vision got used to the glaring white light. You looked around.

You were in a brightly coloured lit room, on your right You saw a window. Then you slowly gasped as you realised you must have seen a tree for the first time. Your mum drew you a picture of a tree in one of your letters.

Your mum wanted to make sure you knew of all the things in the outside world so they wouldn’t be a shock to you.

“Hey, Y/N. Glad you’re okay,” the lady from before said gently.

She was sat by your bed, reading a book, it must have been a book from the picture your mum drew you. She helped you slowly sit up.

“Where are my letters?” You asked nervously.

“In here. Tony Stark made a special box for you to keep them in,” Natasha said gently, handing you a lovely box. You smiled. “They’ll be safer in there.” She added gently.

“Th-thank you,” You said. “…where’s Bucky?” You asked anxiously, whipping your head at Natasha.

“He’s in the other medical bay. He’s being looked over, he’s fine. I promise,” Natasha said gently. “Y/N’s awake. You can come in.” She added after she heard a knock.

“Hey kiddo,” the man named Steve said to you gently as you smiled at him. “You fainted due to starvation and dehydration,” he added gently, he gave you a kind smile, a smile you weren’t used to. You smiled back.

He was holding a tray of food for you.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked or don’t like,” Steve said gently.

“I’m not sure either. I’ve only been given bread … stale most days,” you said honestly.

Steve gave you a sad yet gentle look. He gave you the tray, it was loaded with different things for you to try. You were starving, but so you wouldn’t seem greedy you ate one of each.

Humming at each texture of the thing, almost groaning at the things you really enjoyed. Steve and Nat smiled at your reactions to each item of food. Once you were full, Steve handed you a glass of water. You drank it in one go.

“Sorry,” You said going red.

“Don’t be. You were severely dehydrated,” Nat said gently.

“Where’s Bucky? I wanna see him,” you said gently, after Steve poured you another glass. You drank it slower this time.

“Bucky’s fine. He’s being looked over still. He must have put up a fight after they took you away,” Steve said gently, there was a hint of worry in his voice.

“Oh god. Is he awake?” You asked nervously.

“He’s dropping in and out. He keeps asking for you. Once Bruce has finished looking over him, I’ll take you to see him,” Steve said softly.

“Thank you,” you said gratefully.

“Have some proper sleep, Y/N. We’ll wake you when Bucky’s ready,” Nat said gently. “I’ll still be here,” she added softly.

You smiled and as Steve stood up, he bid goodbye then you snuggled down into a more comfy bed than in your cell.

You fell asleep clutching the box that the man named Tony made for you. You fell asleep knowing your mum’s letters are safe. You fell asleep knowing you were safe. But most importantly, you fell asleep knowing Bucky was safe.

You two are going to get the life Bucky promised you. You couldn’t wait to get started.

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#captivity series #bucky x reader angst #steve x reader angst #bucky barnes #steve rogers #natasha romanoff #bruce banner #clint barton #mcu #marvel #avengers #new writers corner

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one-boring-person · 3 years

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You forced this upon yourself😂 you forced this rambo simp.(and i dont mind)

Okay this may not be as good! But! Im giving you the liberty to take it where you want!(because i love your little details and how you express the feeling in your writing i- AH! Its great. I cant say it enough, it’s great. I mean it.)

How about Rambo finally getting enough courage to show The rancher around the tunnels, in a date sort of way!(they don’t know thats actually where he lives. Aka that photo i showed you before.) i really saw how the rancher was so happy to have him at their house, I’d love to see rambos side of scheduling a house tour and date type deal!! Maybe him even sitting and showing the rancher through all his old photos, and them just in awe because wow. He’s so much cooler than they even thought! He just so nervous and surprised seeing them so interested in him after all this time alone, and them just- in awe of him.

( i also really think it would be funny seeing rambo go through his friends house and seeing-“why the hell you have so many plants???” And just. Adorable assassin living with a wholesome and loving hardworking s/o)

Ah! Im sorry if that’s not as good!! But hey, you feel free to describe their antics and relationship as you will!!

I think I may have run a bit with this, but I hope you like it regardless!😊💛

I've Got Your Back, You've Got Mine.

John Rambo (Rambo IV/V) x reader

Warnings: mention of death, mention of war, mention of injury, mention of PTSD, mention of violence, (possible flash warning for gif?)

Masterlist

The heavy knock on the door surprises me where I'm sitting, the sharp sound snapping me from my thoughts. Looking over at it from my position at the table, I frown and set down my spoon, standing to go answer, unsure of who it is: I'm not expecting anyone today. Colt looks up from his place on the floor, the dog just as curious as I am as to whom it may be, though he doesn't bark, so it must be someone we know. He watches me as I cross the room, going straight to the door.

Opening it, I'm somewhat surprised to see my neighbour, John, standing there, a tentative smile on his face as he looks me over appreciatively, his gaze drawing a blush to my face.

"Mornin' (Y/n)." He greets, rough voice friendly as he waits for me to let him in.

"Morning John." I smile back, delighted to see him, "What can I do for you?"

I step back, waiting for him to enter, which he does so with a nod of thanks.

"Since when have I needed a reason to see you?" The veteran chuckles, the sound reverberating within me, my brain subconsciously storing the action away for later recall. Gently, John moves into my space, one hand coming to lightly rest on my hips as the other cups my face, drawing me in for a slow kiss.

Kissing back, I feel a glow of happiness flare up in me at this contact: he's never really one to initiate touch like this, so it's a whole lot more intimate when he does. Relaxed, I loosely wrap my arms around his neck, languidly caressing his dark hair as our lips move together.

Being the killjoy he often loves to be, Colt pushes in between us, nosing at John's leg, tail wagging enthusiastically as he recognises the familiar man, the dog as fond of his company as I am. Chuckling, John and I pull apart, looking down at the large canine between us, the dark eyes staring up at us imploring us to pay attention to him. Still smiling, John lowers a hand to scratch Colt's head, ruffling his floppy ears a little as the dog instantly allows his mouth to hang open, tongue lolling in content.

"Hey, Colt." The veteran greets, biting back a laugh as the dog pushes me out of the way, nudging at John's stomach.

"He never gets that excited to see me." I complain jokingly, standing back to watch the two interact, a smile playing at my lips.

"Sure he does." John replies, eyes fixing on mine with an expression of fondness, one that had me weak at the knees.

"He really doesn't, he just sits in the corner and whines at me until I feed him. Isn't that right?" I address the dog himself, giving him a light slap on the rear, his ridiculous height meaning I can quite easily reach it, "Anyhow, did you need something? Or did you just come here to kiss me? I can't say I'll complain if that's the case."

Cheekily, I wink at the veteran, leaning back against a nearby counter.

"As nice as that sounds, it's not the reason I came by." He chuckles, blushing lightly, "Though that does sound good."

Grinning, I nod my agreement, only now taking in his body language: he's nervous. His hands fidget, rubbing his fingers over scars and lines on his palms, and he shifts from foot to foot every now and then, small tells he's never quite managed to hide from me.

"Is something up?" I ask him, slightly more serious this time, unnerved by his discomfort.

"No, no, not at all. I, err, well, I just wanted to ask you something." He rubs the back of his neck, head tilted to the side as he regards me, dark eyes fixed on mine.

"Ok, go for it." I prompt him, curiosity sparking my interest.

"Well, do you wanna come to mine? I mean properly, like in the house." John cocks his head to the side, lowering his arm again.

Blinking, I feel shock flood my system, before it turns to unbelievable happiness that he's trusting me enough to come into his private space. Initially, I can't find the right words, somehow struggling to respond, until I find my tongue again.

"I would love to, John." I agree, features lighting up as my mood brightens, "There's nothing I've really got to do today except train up one of the younger horses, so I've got as long as you want after that."

"Great. Is four o'clock alright?" The veteran smiles broadly, though he still looks somewhat nervous.

"Yeah, should be. I'll be there." I promise him, taking up my Stetson from the table as I briefly turn away to put away the plate I was using, having lost my appetite in my sudden excitement.

"I'll get it tidy." He says, looking around the room again, "I'll never understand why you have so many plants in your house. It's like a damn jungle."

At his comment, I laugh loudly, glancing around at the variety of different houseplants I have placed on various shelves, the greenery practically covering every available surface.

"Because it's way too dry to grow anything like this outside all the time. Anyway, they look nice." I shrug, calling Colt to my side as I follow John from the house, grabbing my jacket from the hook as I pass.

"But why so many?"

Once again, I shrug, following him over to a nearby post, where he's hitched Bandit, the horse I gave him a few months ago. The buckskin stallion paws at the ground, his pale coat looking as clean as ever even as he noses at the dust, the dark colouring around his eyes (the reason for his name) and legs standing out much more in the bright sun. As we approach, he looks up, snorting in greeting.

"He's looking good." I acknowledge, admiring the strong stallion appreciatively - I had reared Bandit from a foal, before I had given him to the veteran as a gift four months ago, hoping it will help him to grow his own ranch. My plan had worked, and John now has four horses, including Bandit, as well as a couple of other animals, such as a cow, a pig and five chickens. I'd sold him a couple of goats as well, but we soon found out that John and goats just didn't get along. At all.

"Yeah, he's doing well, too. Takes the training very well, too." John runs a hand through the stallion's dark mane, untying the reins.

"That's good. Reckon he'll be ready for a competition soon?"

"Should be."

Snorting again, Bandit pulls at the reins, clearly eager to get going, especially as Colt moves up to sniff at the horse's back legs. I quickly whistle him over, knowing Bandit has always been shifty around the dog.

"I'll see you at four then." I finally say, unwilling to say goodbye, even if it is only for a few hours.

"Yeah, see you then." John smiles, leaning in to kiss me again, keeping it brief this time, leaving me wishing for more, as he always does.

"See ya." I grin, watching him climb into the saddle, still somehow fluid in doing so despite his age.

Gathering the reins in hand, John adjusts himself in the saddle, before he smiles down at me again as he gently urges Bandit into motion. Obediently, the stallion moves into a swift trot, which turns into a faster canter as the two move off down the driveway, heading towards the split in the fence separating our land. I watch as they go, still finding myself enraptured by the sight of the muscular man sat astride the horse, Colt eventually snapping me from my mind as he barks at me. Shaking my head, I follow him towards the stable.

Hours later, having showered and cleaned up, I feel a sense of relief go through me as I hoist myself into the saddle secured into place on Leo's back. It's relaxing, the stallion beneath me more relaxed than the youngster I've been trying to train all day: she never gave me a break. Seemingly sensing this, as he always does, Leo flicks his ears back and nickers softly, very lightly pawing the ground as I give him a pat on the neck, glad to have a more reliable horse taking me where I need to be.

Tilting back my Stetson, I take the reins in hand and ease the stallion into a trot, intending to let him pick up his own pace, my trust in this horse far greater than in the mare from before. Obediently, Leo moves into the correct gait, the two of us moving as if as one, years of riding together having made it easy for us to become in tune with each other. Together, we start off down the road towards John's ranch, the new path we've created beaten and well-used, allowing for relatively easy riding. Leo's hooves pound the dry ground rhythmically, my hips moving in time with his every stride, the relaxing movement helping to calm the nerves that have sprung up inside me.

A part of me is still unconvinced about going into John's home. Yes, I had helped him rebuild it and had seen very little of the inside rooms, but it still feels as if I'm intruding upon the veteran's safe space, his reprieve from the cruelty of the world he lives in. Something about that doesn't sit right with me, but I tell myself it's John's decision to make, not mine, so I should trust him, which I do, wholeheartedly.

I'm still torn by the time I reach the main house, where John is already sat waiting for me in his rocking chair, dark eyes fixed on me as I approach. Lifting a hand to him, I smile and slow Leo to a halt, praising the horse as I climb down, the gray stallion nosing affectionately at me. Swiftly, I tie him to a nearby post, only to stop when John calls out to me.

"Put him in the stable for the night." He instructs me, gesturing for me to follow him as I try to fight back the sudden onslaught of racing thoughts at his implications: he wants me to stay the night?

"Sure, thanks." I smile back at him, walking after him with Leo in tow.

"Don't worry about it. It's not fair on him if he has to stay out all night." John waves me off with a short grin, "How'd training go?"

I groan.

"Not great. That horse has it in for me, I swear." I complain, rubbing at my arm, remembering the moment I got the new bruise forming there.

"Oh yeah?" He muses, looking amused.

"Yeah. She threw me off eight times!"

"Eight times? Wow, must be a new record." The veteran jokes, something that stirs up the familiar fondness inside me at his more personable behaviour.

"I reckon so. Painful one to set, though, I'll tell you." I remark, smiling broadly as we enter the stable, where I quickly house Leo next to Bandit, removing his tack and other gear.

"Must be." John watches me work, leaning against the door to the large building, muscular arms crossed over an equally muscular chest. Turning back to him, I have to stop and admire the bulging of his biceps as his hands grip his forearms, the veins I've come to love laying out a pattern on the tanned limbs. Everytime I see them, I imagine his strong arms wrapped around me, holding me safe and secure against his solid body, wishing I could feel his hands splayed against me more often.

"Like what you see?" John interrupts my thoughts, voice teasing as he lifts an eyebrow at me, almost smirking at me.

Blushing furiously, I avert my gaze, lifting a hand to gently tap the brim of my Stetson out of my vision.

"You know I do." I laugh nervously, before I look back up at him, "Anyway, since when do you use pickup lines?"

"Since I figured out they get you all flustered." His playful tone is new to me, though it's gone almost as soon as I see it, his guarded expression falling back into place as he returns within himself, probably thinking he overstepped some invisible boundary.

I still can't help stammering for a response, his gruff tone awakening something within me.

"Heh, I guess you're right." I stutter, going over to him.

Nodding, he keeps his expression straight, leading me out back to the house, where he quickly welcomes me inside.

"I tried to tidy it as much as possible, but it's still a bit messy." The veteran apologises, observing the interior of his home critically, even as I do so in awe.

The rooms, from what I can see, are mostly filled with sparse furniture, a few chairs here and there, an old sofa, a couple of vanities and dressers, with a mantlepiece in most, if not all, of them. He hasn't used much colour, but what he has used is tasteful and works well with the overall appearance. The walls, however, are what really draw me into the place.

They are littered with photographs and memorabilia, frames and objects cleaned and polished so they shine brightly in the afternoon sun, many smiling faces visible in them. Curious, I go over to one wall, looking over the array of pictures, which I now recognise to be images of John and his friends from the years he spent here. Amongst them is a creased black and white photo of a young John sat astride a horse not unlike Bandit, a broad grin on the boy's face as he stares at the camera from under a mop of thick black hair. I can feel a small smile creep onto my face at the sight of the veteran looking so happy and carefree, something I've not seen very much of at all in my time around him.

"That was my first horse, Hector. I had him until I left for the army." John says from behind me, sounding somewhat quiet, eyes softened from nostalgia as he stares at the picture along with me, "I loved him a lot, but my father always said he wasn't good enough."

His words hang in the air as I stay speechless, listening intently to what he's saying to me: it's the first I'm hearing about his life before he came here again.

"What happened to him? Hector, I mean." I ask him quietly, tearing my eyes away to look up at John.

The veteran shrugs, appearing somewhat remorseful.

"I'll never know, but I reckon my father sold him as soon as I was gone."

"Oh." I frown, glancing back at the photograph.

"The horse was getting old by that time, though. He probably wasn't much use." John chuckles wryly, moving away towards the stairs nearby, "Do you want to see upstairs?"

"Yeah, sure." I nod, following him as he ascends to the second floor, which I now see consists of three different rooms.

He takes me to the farthest, opening the door to reveal an old study, which looks as if it hasn't been used in a good few years.

"This was my father's study, where he did all his business. I was never allowed in here as a kid." John sweeps his arm around the room, staying by the threshold, as if abiding by a rule that no longer exists, "Not that I go in here that much as an adult."

I look around, finding the neat area interesting: images of a young John hovering by the door, waiting for his father to finish business entering my head.

"It's nice, I like it." I remark, turning to find him smiling very slightly at me.

"It's the only room in the house that's exactly as it used to be. I haven't had time to do up the others properly." John says, leaving the study and going back down the hall, where he opens the other two doors to reveal a bathroom and an empty room.

A dull curiosity flares up within me as I realise one thing about the top floor, but I easily find a solution to it, following John back down the stairs. As we go, however, I realise that my assumption is wrong, as the only other rooms down here are missing the one thing I'd expect in any house.

"Where do you sleep? I haven't seen a bed or anything anywhere." I ask him, cocking my head to the side as he takes me to one final door.

"I'm gonna show you." He smiles at me, before he opens the door.

I blink as I see the dark steps descending into the ground, unease biting at my throat as I flash John a hesitant look. A cool draft wafts up from the black depth, but John only chuckles and moves down into the space below, gesturing for me to follow.

"It's perfectly safe, don't worry." He calls to me, a light flickering on as he reaches the bottom of the steps, illuminating the path to me.

Swallowing, I gingerly step down the stairs, emerging into a tunnel of sorts, my curiosity piqued as I take in the chiselled walls around me, the rock cast in an odd light from the naked bulbs positioned along the length of the cavern. Struts of wood hold the ceiling steady, wiring hanging off of them in places where he's had to hastily put it all together. John watches as I take in the passage, a thoughtful look in place on his face.

"What is this place?" I wonder aloud, still taken aback by the oddity of having a tunnel beneath the house that stretches off in both directions.

"This is my safe space." The veteran informs me, urging me along with him as we go further into the tunnel, walking together for a minute before we emerge out into a larger room of sorts, which is well lit.

My eyes widen as I realise exactly what he means.

The room acts as his bedroom and bathroom, and also has space to sit and relax, the whole area having a homely feel to it. What was missing in the rooms in the house can be found down here, including more photographs, though these ones seem different to the others. They adorn the walls, all except one, which is decorated with a variety of weapons, both guns and knives. Going over to it, I look over the rifles and shotguns hooked onto the wall, struck speechless as I then turn my attention to a machete, the blade honed but chipped from use, seemingly out of place as it hangs beside another, smaller hunting knife.

Moving on, I regard the photographs, only now realising that they're military pictures, many of them containing images of a youthful John in fatigues and uniform. A smile creeps back onto my lips as I feel my eyes land on a particular image of a group of men, where I can see John standing amongst them, a triumphant grin on his face, long locks of dark hair held back by a strip of fabric around his head. The others also smile, though there's something bittersweet about the inscription at the corner of the photo: Baker Team, Vietnam. As I look past the other pictures, I notice that the team slowly dwindles, beaming faces becoming drawn and solemn, eventually just leaving two people behind. Beneath this image is another inscription: Baker Team Survivors.

"That was my team in 'Nam." John says suddenly, voice husky as he remembers the friends he had, "None of them made it back. Not really."

Eyes wide, I look back at him, taking in the distant look in his own eyes, the barely concealed grief still raw in his expression as he stares at the photographs. Noticing my gaze, John gestures for me to come sit on the edge of his bed with him, the veteran pulling another photograph from it's place on his bedside table. Doing so, I make sure I'm not touching him, but am close enough to reassure him, waiting patiently for him to start talking of his own accord, knowing that this is a sensitive subject for him.

After a moment, he starts, his voice low as he pulls me into his stories, taking me through suffocating jungles and blistering heats, through recon and rescue missions, through bloody gunfights and hellfire, through hours spent in torturous situations. He puts me in his shoes as he loses every single member of his team to the gruesome fight he should never have fought, the harrowing grief and pain of letting go of a comrade, someone who's supposed to be by your side for as long as the two of you can stay alive, laid bare for me to see and experience. And even as he moves on, back to familiar territory in the States, the fight never leaves him.

Facing harassment in what should be his safety and security, I can feel every bit of betrayal, of anger and grief that he felt as he is let down by his own country time after time, used again and again by the authorities to do their dirty work, only to be cast aside when it doesn't go their way, the old catchphrase he once lived by, "I've got your back, you've got mine" completely meaningless in this hollow life. His disgust in humanity is plain to me as he outlines his most recent forays into warfare, where the rage he felt is once again transferred to me, and I experience the violent need to take out the parasites in the world that destroy anything good that he did. It's as if I'm there with him, through everything, his description and memories so vivid they chill me to the core, keeping me hooked on his every word.

After a long while, he eventually trails off, and I realise there's a tear rolling down his cheek, his body shaking a little as he holds himself back. My heart breaking, I have to fight the urge to reach out and pull him into an embrace, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. I place my hand on his shoulder instead, rubbing the tight muscles soothingly until he looks up at me with the most heart-rending gaze I've ever seen in my life. At that point, my resolve breaks.

Carefully, I lean in and wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling the veteran towards me. He goes willingly, sobs wracking his body as he wraps his own hands around me, burying his face into my neck, tears flowing freely now as he lets himself go, each pained sound agonising to hear. Tightening my grip, I lay back onto the bed, allowing him to press his body around me, holding me against his muscular form as I rub his back, whispering soothing things to him as his breathing starts to calm a little. It takes time, but eventually he starts to relax, body going limp as he lays in my arms, his larger form awkwardly wrapped around mine as he depresses his face into the crook of my neck.

I barely hear his broken voice as he whispers to me.

"Thank you."

Breathing in his familiar scent, I just mould myself closer, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead as he does the same to my neck.

"I'm here for you, John. I'm here, and I'll never leave. Not as long as I live, I promise."

#rambo x reader #rambo imagine #rambo #rambo 5 #rambo last blood #rambo 4 #sylvester Stallone #John Rambo x reader #John Rambo imagine #John Rambo

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