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taestefully-in-luv · 6 months

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Our Time | JJK (Seven)

Summary: After an accident and being in a coma for three months, you finally wake. But the last nine years of your life have been completely erased. You rely on none other than your best friend, Jungkook, to help regain your memories and yourself. But what happens when the truth of your missing time starts unraveling and it isn’t all it’s made out to be?

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem Reader (Detective!Jk x Graphic Designer!OC) side pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Genre: crime au, fluff, heavy angst, smut, romance, darker themes, amnesia au. Best friends to ???

Word Count: 12.4k

Warnings: seriously depressing (for now) swearing, mentions of alcoholism, allusions to cheating

a/n: Hiiiiiii, long time no see!! Sorry for the delay and thank you for waiting. This story is at a depressing point (lol) so forgive me! I hope you guys can enjoy this chapter too 🥺 Well, I hope you guys enjoy and please let me know what you think! Send an ask if you want to be added to the taglist or just want to chat :]

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An eternity has passed since you’ve last seen Jungkook…a total of six weeks. Each day has gotten equally harder as it has gotten easier. You think it’s just your body slowly getting used to his absence but your mind is yearning. Yearning and hurting.

But there is something that’s also painful like missing your ex-husband—your best friend—and it’s the videos of your life. A life you know nothing of.

If you thought pictures were hard, videos are much harder.

But you asked for this. You asked your parents and your friends to send you old pictures and videos of times you don’t remember living.

You’re seeing pictures of you and your friends in restaurants you don’t know. Bars you don’t know. Concerts for artists you don’t know. Pictures of you in your bedroom, but it’s a bedroom you don’t know.

You have haircuts and styles you don’t know.

In the videos, you hear yourself laughing at inside jokes you don’t know. You’re using vocab and slang you don’t know. You see yourself giggling and joking around with people you. don’t. know. And you feel more like an outsider than ever. Not just to this world but to the girl you see on screen, you are an outsider to herworld.

Perhaps you’ve gotten too use to separating your different selves. And perhaps that makes it harder to unite with them.

Past you is current you but current you thinks of current you as future you.

It’s all a headache to think about.

You know they’re all you but because you’ve kept them separate, it’s somehow becoming the shackles that stops all the you’s from uniting.

And that’s what needs to happen for all of your memories to return. You have to unite 24 year old you and 33 year old you. It’s only your sanity on the line.

Now that you’ve discovered a couple of things, the only way to go from here is to intentionally spark your memories—in any way. You have to. Because you know 33 year old you has started something...

You quickly tear your eyes from the video on screen to take a quick peak towards the hallway that leads to the bedrooms. You’ve visited the attic a few times because of all of the memories that are stored in there.

But those boxes are filled with more than just memories.

Your eyes go back to your phone in hand as your thumb hesitantly hovers over the screen. You know you should move on to another video but it almost feels like you don’t have it in you. You don’t have it in you to stop listening to the sound of your child’s laughter when you can’t recognize it.

You don’t have it in you to stop the possibility of triggering your brain to suddenly remember him.

You finally force your thumb to the screen and you quickly pause it. You take in a sharp breath before exiting the video to scroll through the five videos your mom sent you. You see Haru in all five. And you can see Jungkook in three of them. You chose one where you couldn’t see Jungkook.

But this video of Haru’s giggles feels just as heartbreaking but more than anything, it feels frustrating. Because you don’t know him.

And that feels like an unbearable heartache on its own.

Suddenly, your eyes bounce from the video thumbnails to the text your mom just sent you.

Mom 7:28am

Good morning! We’re our way to the station and should arrive in Seoul around 2pm. You’re still picking us up, right?

You slowly close your already drooping eyes, the moment way too brief before you open them again, glancing towards the living room windows where the obvious sunlight comes through. Another night you didn’t sleep. Your eyes battling your brain. You might get a few hours if you try to sleep now, at the least.

“I just don’t understand how you can drink those all day,” Your mother’s eyes go from the knife in her hand to the iced coffee in yours. “I know it’s got to be giving you heartburn.” She laughs a little while shaking her head, eyes going back down to the cutting board where she chops onions.

You blink at your mom before dropping your eyes to the coffee in your hand, “Wait, is this why?”

She chuckles again, “Must be from your dads side of the family.” She shrugs now, letting the onions slide off the board and into a pan.

You roll your eyes at your moms playful comment before sliding the coffee away from you as you sit at your kitchen island, “Anyway, dad’s kind of taking a while, no?” You glance around the kitchen as if he would suddenly appear here.

Your mom smiles to herself while her hands remain busy with cooking dinner, “Yeah, he’s waiting for me to text him saying he can come back from the store.”

You can’t help but snort since you know exactly what she means.

Back when you were a teenager and going through life’s woes that made the whole world feel like it was ending, you would have your meltdowns. Period cramps that made you moody, a friend talking behind your back, the boy you liked was seen kissing someone else. All the things your dad left your mom to handle. He would suddenly want to go to the store and she would somehow signal him when it was safe to return—after the two of you got to talk out whatever was bothering you.

You realize she’s done it now.

“You never used to take this long to tell me what was going on though.” Your mom says quietly, eyes trained on the stove. “Especially not about Jungkook.” She sighs as she reaches for the wooden spoon before stirring the ingredients.

You feel something sharp inside your chest, just at the mention of his name, like there’s a sharp knife.

You turn your face to the side, something uncomfortable and electric tightens your jaw. As if it’s a burning signal that even the mere mention of Jungkook, makes you want to cry. But you won’t. “Well, mom.” You take a deep breath before looking towards her again with a sarcastic smile. “Our marriage wasn’t exactly as perfect as you thought.”

You hope this is enough for her to realize that Haru’s disappearance wasn’t the wedge that created such distance between you and your now, ex-husband.

You stare at the back of your mom’s head as she stands at the stove, still cooking. You wonder if she’s in utter shock at the revelation that perhaps Jungkook isn’t perfect. And your marriage definitely wasn’t. You wait and wait. But you see how she starts adding in a few other things.

“I said—”

“—What marriage is perfect?” Your mom finally turns around, cutting you off with a raised brow. “I never thought that. I’ll never think that. About anyone.” She scoffs before turning towards the stove again. “I told you that you didn’t usually take this long to talk about Jungkook with me.”

You don’t say anything.

Your mom turns her head towards you for a moment, you see the corner of her lip barely start to lift, like a knowing smile wants to form but her frown decides not to budge, “You were married to him for years…you don’t think you’ve come to complain to me?”

You understand her almost smirk now. She faces forward towards the stove again.

“Maybe around six months before Haru’s…incident. You came to Busan and I could tell something was up and you needed to talk.” Your mom rests a hand on her hip, while the other reaches for the stove knob as she turns it down. “But just like now…” She turns her head to eye you again, her worries pulling her lips into a deeper frown. “You took a while to tell me.”

You don’t really react. Not as your brain processes this information.

Your mom continues, “So I know your marriage wasn’t perfect. Jungkook’s not perfect. You’re not perfect.” She exhales through her nose in a half laugh. “I’m not perfect. Your father’s not either. But what’s between us…it has to be protected.”

“Unless that person betrays you.” You say in a low voice, eyes going to your fingers as you pick at your cuticles. “And you lose your trust in them.”

You hear your mom at the stove again as she turns it off and puts the lid on the pan. After a moment you see your mother in your peripherals as she comes to the other side of the counter and sits next to you.

“You mentioned something similar back then.” She says quietly, her face looking ahead. “But then I thought…well, that you thought it wasn’t what you thought.”

You quickly turn your head in your moms direction, eyes on hers. What all did you say to her? “Well, it was.” You say firmly.

Your mom’s eyebrows pull together slowly, something similar to confliction rising in her eyes. “And how exactly did Jungkook betray you?” She asks after a moment.

And it feels pathetic, the feeling of all the muscles in your face betraying your collected appearance. So pathetic that the answer to this question makes your expression twist and break off the cracking mask that is now crumbling and falling from your face.

It takes less than an instant for your heartbreak to be written all over.

Your mom puts a hand to your back, letting you cry it out.

Just like you did when you were a moody teenager and the only one who understood your meltdowns was your mom. She lets you know that once again, that no matter how small or how big—you had every right to feel the way you wanted to.

You cry, a soft pat repeating on your back as you mumble how sad you are and how embarrassing this is.

This short cry feels more like relief in the right company rather than something that is rocking your world in the worst way.

Your mom chuckles a little, pulling away from you. “Embarrassing?”

“Yeah.” You nod with a shameless smile and damp cheeks. “I know you know the me that’s been married to him for years but in my eyes we’ve been on one date and he was our neighbor. So I feel like you should be teasing me about us but you’re here with more knowledge about my marriage than me.” You laugh as you cry more, “So it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Hm,” Your mom chuckles again, “I guess I can understand that.”

You nod while your fingers wipe beneath your eyes repeatedly, they’re only teary now.

Your mom brings her hand away from you, her fingers intertwining on top of the counter. You watch as she stares down at her hands in thought before she finally sighs and turns your way with a small smile. “Talk to me, y/n. You’re convinced Jungkook betrayed you in some way—ways I can only assume—but tell me, do you really think he’s capable of what you’re thinking?”

You study your mother’s expression for a long moment, brows beginning to furrow when you realize she doesn’t buy it. Tearing your eyes away from her, your lips twist in annoyance, “Are you saying I shouldn’t believe in my own memories?”

You hear your mom sigh again, “You remembered something unpleasant, y/n. I’m not saying I don’t believe you…but even back then,” She pauses, hoping you will look at her but you don’t. She finally continues, “Things just didn’t add up…”

You’re quick to find her eye again, “What all did I tell you?”

At this, your mother scoffs lightly, her small smile still on her lips. “Nothing that really made sense. Seemed like you just…couldn’t tell me things. But I’m not dumb, you know? You drop plenty of hints when you get talking.”

“Oh.” You blink at her, wishing you could even remember whatever hints she’s referring to.

“But the issue is that you stopped talking. You got quiet.” Your mother looks back at her hands again, her gaze hardening. “Then when Haru’s incident happened…you shut us all out. Everyone…” She whispers, lines between her brows forming, a hint of disappointment in her voice that doesn’t go unnoticed by you. “Even Jungkook.”

You can’t help but feel that same knife start slicing open the inside of your chest at the mention of his name again. “Probably because it’s his fau—”

“—He lost Haru too, y/n.” Your mom cuts you off, her eyes that are filled with something close to anger land on you. “You both did and what’s worse is that you both lost one another in the process.”

“I don’t remember the process but I’m sure I had a hard time even looking him in the eye.” You spit out. “You don’t know what happ—”

“—Do you?” She throws back at you. “Because you have yet to give me a story that makes even a little sense.”

Your heart starts screaming like someone just squeezed it way too hard. You force yourself to look away because tears that no one invited start to form. You feel done with this conversation but before you can announce its over, your mom sighs again and her palm rests against your back and you don’t have it in you to shove her off.

“I’m sorry.” She mutters softly, almost sounding regretful. “I am. You have no idea…” You feel her hand slowly retreat from your back, “How sometimes I would just pray you wouldn’t get your memories back. So you wouldn’t…”

Your mother’s voice grows much softer, almost too quiet to hear.

“Seeing you heartbroken all over again hurts us, y/n. I thought it would be easier…for you. But I guess it’s just easier for us.” She admits, a sharpness in her tone that indicates her regret. “There’s no way you would live happier if parts of you felt missing.”

You feel her words stick to your skin uncomfortably, like sweat from the hot sun rather than a run you worked for. It’s unpleasant but also unwelcomed.

Unwelcomed because you don’t want to accept a life where that could be the case—forced to live a life even with parts of you missing.

An uncomfortable reality and possibility.

“More than…” You begin, hands lifting to gesture towards nothing. “This is more than just Jungkook.”

Your mom chuckles to herself. “Of course I know that.”

“I’m starting to wonder what would feel worse,” You glance towards your empty hands before your fingers clutch nothing softly. “Remembering my child. Or not remembering my child.” Then your lips curl into a half smile that feels so empty as you silently cringe toward yourself, “It doesn’t even feel right saying ‘my’…” you immediately halt, teeth suddenly piercing into your bottom lip. You don’t even feel right calling Haru ‘your’ child. Because you don’t feel like his mother.

You try to keep the half smile plastered on your face but the sharp shock of tears that fill your eyes betray your wants. You quickly blink them away.

“I want to hate Jungkook so bad for so many reasons,” You admit before clearing your throat, “But I mostly hate him because at least he would recognize our sons laugh while I don’t. I hate him because I blame him but at least he knows the kid that I hate him for.”

Also an uncomfortable reality.

“Well,” Your mothers tone lets you know she’s about to change the subject. “You had a doctor’s appointment recently, right? How did it go?”

You shake your head, “He said the progress can be really slow…and that it’s normal for the brain to block out certain traumatic events. So much…” You pause.

“So much what?”

You sigh, “So much doesn’t make sense. It has me feeling so restless.”

“I’m sorry.” Your mom releases a shaky breathy before you hear her voice crack. “I’m so sorry.”

“You know what’s the worst part?” You decide to keep the venting session going. “I just feel ashamed. I’m a parent but I don’t even know about it. I feel so lost. I don’t think if I was given a child I could—”

“This doesn’t make you less of a mother, y/n.” Your mom snaps her eyes in your direction, a fierceness in them. “You are still a parent. A damn good one at that.”

You study your mother’s expression with a fondness, because you see her sincerity. This makes your eyes sting again. “Thanks, mom.”

After a nice weekend with your parent’s, you decide you’ve been resting enough. You want to start working again, having too much time on your hands seems like a problem nowadays. You find yourself back at that new café.

“I’ll take a honey lavender latte.” You tell the girl at the counter, her eyes immediately widening before she nods her head in approval.

“Great choice. A personal fav.” She grins before continuing, “And I make it the best.”

A new voice joins in from behind, startling you. “Make that two.” A man says. You quickly turn around, eyes rising towards the same man you spilled coffee on. “Oh, it’s you.”

He brings a hand to his heart, “I’m a you? That means you remember me!” He smiles at you, shaking his dark hair from his eyes.

You bite your lip, guilt sinking in from the last time. “Well, I thought you were gonna press charges for burning you last time. So, I guess I would remember.”

He looks taken aback, his eyes going round. “Press charges?” Then he laughs, “No, no. I wouldn’t do that, who wants to deal with cops, anyway?”

“Just the two lattes?” The girl at the counter speaks up in a sing song voice and you immediately spin in your spot to apologize to her but the man beats you to it while he pulls out his wallet.

“Should we get a cookie too?” He asks you, his head tilting a little and you start shaking your head. “You sure?” He smiles.

You’re the one taken aback. This guy is too kind. You wonder if he’s like this with everyone.

“Seokjin, you are going to buy us out again.” The girl sighs as she smiles before glancing at you. “He ordered us all out just yesterday.”

“It was for the elderly! You know they get a little cranky if they don’t get something a little sweet to eat! Hasn’t it brought more customers? You could say thank you.” He gets playfully defensive, pout on his lips and the girl gives a shrug while nodding. “Well, it does make my boss happy. And if he’s happy,” She leans over the counter and whispers. “It’s a better day for everyone.” Then she giggles.

“See!” Seokjin crosses his arms like he’s still offended. “I’m just trying to help you all have a better day!”

You guess he is this nice to everyone.

And before you know it, he’s taking out his card and paying for the drinks. You realize it but it’s too late.

“You didn’t have to pay for that…” You mumble, hand paused on your own wallet. “But thank you.”

“Hopefully you’ll have an even better day too.” He smiles at you and it feels warm.

You take a moment to get a good look at him and you realize just how handsome he is. You remember his chest and broad shoulders from last time but now you see just how full and plump his lips are but you also like his brown eyes.

He smiles at you again.

You’re staring.

“See you around, I guess.” Seokjin puts his wallet back into his back pocket before walking off towards a table near a window.

You know his name but he doesn’t know yours and that feels a little bit like a shame.

But there’s no time for harmless nice guys giving you warm smiles. You’re here to work. Or actually here to retrain yourself on how to do your work.

Your job agreed to help you relearn everything so today, you’re going to sit at a table and get trained. And the girl you knew from college that works at your job will be in contact with you if you have any questions. Mijoo. Apparently you two were a bit acquainted before you started working from home.

When you find a table near the bookshelves, you get to work. There’s updates on old programs you were familiar with but there’s new ones too. Plus, the market is a bit different. It’s a lot to learn but you think you’ll get the hang of it quickly. Just like you did back in the day when you were just starting out.

Two hours or more has passed and you’re buried in your work. But you see a man in your peripherals and a cookie wrapped in parchment paper suddenly on the table right next to your laptop.

You look up and Seokjin gives you that same warm smile before it turns sheepish. “I ended up ordering two for myself a little while ago but I’m too full. You can have it. Well…well, only if you want it, of course.”

You blink up at him before you look at the cookie.

“It’s okay, if you don’t!”

Your eyes go to him again and you shake your head before you give him your own smile. “No, no!” You tell him quickly, “I-I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“Oh.” His lips form the perfect ‘o’ and he gives you a nod. “Nice. See ya.” And he’s smiling again before walking out of the café.

His entire aura is warm and you realize you appreciate people like him even more now. With how cold life has been.

After a long day of sitting at the café, you’re now sitting on the floor of your dusty attic. It’s gotten easy to figure out which boxes were stored here by your own hands and which boxes are the ones that Jungkook packed up to avoid you seeing your life. It’s mostly obvious because Jungkook’s packing is much more organized than yours.

You wonder if this box of framed photos in front of you is so neat because he looked at each one slowly, taking his time as he looked at the memories he knew you wouldn’t remember.

You wonder if he took his time because he misses Haru.

And because he missed you.

You manage to conceal a bitter scoff as you lift your foot and push it flat against the box, forcing it back a few inches. Your concern isn’t Jungkook right now. Stop thinking about him. Stop looking at your photos with him. Stop looking at the life you lived with him.

Right now those are your priority.

A strained sigh leaves your mouth as you eye the boxes you’ve dragged to the other side of the attic. You’ve been trying to organize everything in here so you know what’s what. Eyes slide to the left where all your household memories are. Then they slowly drag across the attic, passing by an old, dusty desk to the right side where your personal mystery boxes are.

It’s taken a few days to really separate everything. Because this attic has more than just some boxes of memories and boxes of mysteries. It also has a few too many creepy crawlers hanging in the corners. And things you’re sure 33 year old you wanted to sell and get rid of.

Buzz.

Your eyes suddenly shoot down to your phone when it lights up and vibrates the attic floor, already seeing that it’s another message from Misuk in the group chat with her and Subin.

Last you checked they were gushing over a new song from an artist they like who you barely even know so you don’t rush to really look. Your eyes stay on the screen until the light dims and it goes black.

You’d be lying if you said you wish you didn’t have help. Someone to guide you to some answers.

Another strained sigh before a half assed chuckle barely rumbles in your chest.

Well, ‘someone’ could guide you to some answers. And that someone is 33 year old you but unfortunately you don’t understand majority of what you’ve found. As if only parts of the puzzle are in these boxes, just edges and corner pieces and you’re missing all the pieces that fill everything in.

Your eyes still linger on the black screen as they begin to lose focus as your mind whirls into your endless list of questions again. The boxes of mysteries are only three boxes. One of them having nothing to do with your son, you think. But the other two have caused some concern.

Something tells you that 33 year old you is really not convinced that your son is dead.

It’s clear you were investigating on your own. But your notes barely make sense. And it is more than fucking frustrating.

You’re about to close your eyes and groan but your phone suddenly lights up again as you feel a slight vibration next to your foot. It’s another text but it doesn’t look like its apart of the group chat.

You squint at the screen but it’s too far to really read anything so you finally give in and reach for the device and bring it closer to your face. And then you feel the sudden thump in your lower belly where your heart just landed.

Jungkook 9:19pm

How are you doing?

A razor sharp sting tightens every muscle in your body, the sudden tension making your breaths stop.

More than a month and a half since you’ve last seen and spoken to him and he’s finally said something to you.

Finally because as much as you hate him, his existence makes you breathe. And you have to breathe to live.

Buzz.

Your hand vibrates along with your phone and you suddenly clench your fingers around it.

Jungkook 9:19pm

I wanted to tell you how sorry I am.

Your heart suddenly leaps up into your throat, choking you a bit as you try to breathe. Is that a confession? It already bothers you that he barely tried to explain himself and now he’s been silent all this time. And now he’s apologizing? He’s guilty, isn’t—

Buzz.

Jungkook 9:20pm

I just wish you would talk to me y/n…

That concealed scoff from earlier has finally broken free, pushing past your lips in something like disgust. Talk to him? Talk to him? You feel an uncomfortable anger start poking your skin from the inside and you squeeze your phone harder in you hand. The fucking audacity.

There’s a brief moment when you consider chucking your phone across the attic but fortunately you only slam it to the floor. Frustration still hot on your skin, you quickly reach for a worn out decorative pillow and hurl it in front of you with a lot of strength, knocking against the old desk as it wobbles for a moment.

You release a short puff of air, head lowering and eyes closing as you try to calm yourself. You’ll admit, it did feel kind of good to release some en—

Thump.

Your eyes snap open as you tilt your head up towards the desk where the sudden sound just came. Did something fall inside? But what? You had checked the desk before. The top drawer only had a few pens and some sticky notes while the bottom drawer was empty minus some loose sheets of printer paper. And the left side of the desk is just two empty book shelves. It is basically empty.

It was probably nothing.

You’re about to move on, mind already wanting to go back to Jungkook when the sudden thump just can’t make sense. Something with some weight definitely fell in or on the desk, right? But you’re sure there’s nothing from when you checked the other week.

Doesn’t hurt to look again, you decide. Maybe this is your intuition talking to you.

You finally lift yourself from the attic floor, giving one last look at the boxes that are filled with your life with Jungkook and Haru before heading towards the middle where the desk is. It’s got an impressive layer of dust that you haven’t found any real reason to clean since the desk isn’t something you’d visit often.

Giving in, you reach for the top drawer and open it, just like you had the other week, but just like last time, the drawer only has three pens, some used sticky notes with doodles and numbers lying around and one black marker.

You knew there was nothing. Shutting the drawer, you quickly open the bottom drawer. It’s a deeper space, like you could fit a small filing cabinet. But instead, there’s only a few loose sheets of blank printer paper.

Not convinced, you shove your hand inside the drawer, feeling around for anything strange and even trying to reach behind but you’re met with nothing. Okay. You step away from the desk for a moment, eyeing it suspiciously because you’re certain something with more weight than any of those things fell. And fell here.

There’s nothing else here besides this raggedy pillow. You glance down at it, the pathetic thing on the floor before you groan, kicking it away from you.

So what? You just imagine all kinds of things now? Is that the new normal?

Suddenly not minding the thick layer of dust, you lean forward in defeat, hands gripping the edge of the desk as you support some of your weight onto it but the desk wobbles forward on its probably broken, unsteady legs. And you know you don’t imagine it when something with some weight definitely shifts inside.

“Uh, what was that…?” You mumble to yourself, eyebrows coming together slowly as you take another look at the desk. Your eyes immediately fall to the left side where the two empty shelves are. It definitely came from this side.

You quickly squat down, eyes trained on the shelves, inspecting every single inch of the empty and terribly dusty space. “Don’t tell me…” You whisper, expression highly focused as you look at the back panel of the shelves. The shelving space is not nearly as deep as of the width of the desk.

You blink at it, breaths now falling from your lips faster as your fingers quickly go to touch the backing panel and when it wiggles freely with enough pressure, you know you’ve found something. Feeling impatient, you jostle the thin wood around until you can figure out how to remove it.

And when it starts poking through the side of the shelf, your heart starts racing while you quickly slide the panel through the wooden desk. You feel it. Maybe it’s instinct because somewhere in your brain you know this is familiar and means something. The panel drops to the floor once its slid out but before it even touches, your hands are already digging inside.

“Okay, okay, okay.” You repeat with shaky breaths. Fingers already grasping what’s here and you feel yourself growing more and more anxious. A shoe box. An open shoe box that’s close to overflowing. You pull it out while you sit down onto the floor, the box settling right in front of you.

“Okay,” You sigh, reaching for the first item on top. It’s a small note book, the kind you’d use to make a check list of sorts. You take a deep breath before flipping it open and a few loose contents fall out. And then you feel the breath of a ghost at the base of your neck.

You pick up a folded sheet of paper along with a bent photo of Nabi. You feel the cold breath travel down your spine as you unfold the paper and read what’s written in someone else’s handwriting.

Yun Nabi

118, Seolleungro-150, Yongsan-gu, Seoul

010-6203-3087

010 3476 9876àweekends

010 9874 3456 new ##

You stare down at the worn paper, confusion clouding your mind. You want to rip her photo to shreds.

You quickly glance to the bent photo in your other hand and before you tell your hand what to do, it’s already crumbling it. Your dark gaze set on the now wrinkled woman who managed to gain Jungkook’s attention.

Maybe it’s not her fault if she’s great.

Maybe it’s your fault.

Your eyes stay trained on the crumbled photo but they’ve lost focus once again. Soon the balled up picture and the folded note fall to your lap as Numbness hugs you over your shoulders and as Insecurity sits next to you and whispers into your ear.

Why did Jungkook cheat on you?

You manage to blink but your throat feels dry.

Why did he do that to you? Why would anyone…?

You want to laugh at yourself. Because you know if this happened to anyone else you would know it wasn’t their fault. The person who cheated…it’s about them and no one else. And you want to tell yourself this, remind yourself, confirm that this isn’t your fault.

But why do you sit here, letting Numbness hug you tighter? And why do you sit here and wonder?

You wonder…you wonder where you went wrong that you were no longer enough for him.

And it doesn’t feel fair that you’re wondering that.

You take the photograph and crumple it even more before throwing it to the side and decide to open the notebook. And you see more puzzle pieces.

Routine

7 he wakes up….sometimes 8

Jungkook takes him to work sometimes for fun

Someone at work?? Who? Another list

Daycare usually Mondays & Thursdays for sure

Busiest days at work

You flip the page

Thursday the 14th, at the bus station,

The 18th when I was going home

There was a car parked outside on the street for 3 days

The 5th

The 8th

The 12th I ran into someone who knew me but I didn’t know them

A man with buzzed hair

Something hot bubbles inside your chest and it feels like it’s burning you. Anxiety has a touch of fire. You flip to the next page.

It just scribbles like you were frustrated.

Just like you are now.

You decide to close to the notebook. Discomfort swallowing you like a dry pill.

But you don’t stop looking through the box. Pictures of people you don’t know. More lists of times and dates. But no context. More frustration building.

Your head snaps up suddenly when you recall something falling so you quickly reach inside the secretive hole in the desk and feel around. Your fingers grasp at nothing until something cold is felt. You can tell what it is immediately as you wrap your fingers around the device. A phone.

You take the cold, shiny device in your clammy hands and rush to turn it on but it’s got a dead battery. You turn the phone upside down to check what kind of charger it takes and remember that downstairs in the kitchen there’s a drawer of random charging cables.

You need to get this thing turned on. Now.

“Are you okay?” You immediately straighten your back, phone dropping to the attic floor, the sudden voice a shock since you live alone. You quickly look around you, eyes darting from place to place but of course, there’s no one here. You feel sick. Especially because…didn’t that voice sound like—

“Are you okay?” Jungkook comes next to you, his eyes avoiding yours but he can’t hide the concern in his voice. You look at him, equally annoyed as he is. But still, you hear in his voice he doesn’t totally hate you.

“It’s fine.” You mumble, fingers picking at the bandage wrapped around your palm. “It just got scraped.”

Jungkook chuckles humorlessly, “Misuk said Subin threw up in her mouth because of the blood.”

You shrug, “Okay, it was pretty bad.”

Jungkook stays silent and the same tension that’s been building since Sana’s wedding is here again. You, Jungkook, Misuk and Subin came to Busan for the weekend to celebrate your mom’s birthday but today, the day of the party, has been anything but fun. One thing after the other, but the cherry on top was around 20 minutes ago when you accidentally sliced your palm open while helping in the kitchen.

Now you’re outside trying to cool off but the last person you want to see has come to check on you.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook stares up at the tree you two are standing in front of outside your house. He doesn’t bother to try and soften his tone. Sure, it’s concerned but it’s also irritated.

“I told you it’s fine.” You answer, sounding clipped. “Just go back inside.”

“You’re mad at me if I’m inside. You’re mad at me if I’m outside.” He stuffs his hands in his front jean pockets and continues gazing at the tall tree. “I really don’t understand why you’re so up—”

“—Oh? You don’t?” You turn your head to glare at him, “Really?”

You watch Jungkook’s profile, his jaw tightening for a moment before he sighs out.

“I don’t know.” He tells you before turning to face you as well. Your eyes are narrowed but he sees plenty of disappointment in them. “Maybe I do. But I also seriously don’t.”

You look down to the ground, a moment of consideration because you kind of understand him. But then you recall last night and realize that no, he definitely should understand why you’re mad.

Things have changed between you two. Ever since Sana’s wedding, there’s been something different and enticing. Moments that feel way too charged to be platonic. But neither of you have spoken up about it. Maybe he’s afraid you don’t feel it. Or maybe you’re now just realizing you’re afraid he is the one who doesn’t feel it.

Because how doesn’t he understand that having his last serious girlfriend from Busan in your parents living room while they flirt with one another relentlessly in front of you, is not going to make you mad?

“You don’t think flirting with your ex-girlfriend in front of me wasn’t going to make me mad, Jungkook?” You throw the words at him without much care for his reaction. It’s an honest question, in your book.

“Okay,” Jungkook tilts his head back before running his hands through his hair, “So this is about Hanja.” He groans a little before giving in and taking a step closer to you. “I didn’t think it was a big deal…and you call her my ex girl-friend as if she doesn’t have a name. Hanja told me she had a lot of classes with you in High School!”

“And?” You deadpan. “Doesn’t make us friends.”

“Okay.” He nods but now he’s the one with disappointment in his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you had to be rude.”

“You invited her to my mom’s birthday party!” You throw back, “And have barely even…” It sucks that your voice gets a little softer because you just want to make a point. “You’ve barely even looked at me since she’s been here.”

Jungkook’s lips part and he looks conflicted as he registers your words but you don’t wait for him to get it before you continue.

“Sure,” You manage a stubborn shrug, “Maybe you’re not flirting with her but you don’t stop her when she does with you.”

Jungkook’s brows furrow, “She hasn’t flirted with me, y/n.” He tries to assure you, his tone finally not irritated but instead the same soft as yours. “We just have history, you know? But that was what? 5 years ago? 6? 7? I don’t even know. We ended on good terms so I thought it was harmless. She’s in town too and had nothing to do…I didn’t think it was a big deal.”

“I just…” You finally meet his eye for the first time more willingly, “I don’t know.”

He finally relaxes his features and a pleasantly pleased smile starts tugging at the corner of his lips, “You’re…jealous.” He confirms softly.

You raise a brow at him, feeling annoyed. “So then you do understand why I’m mad.”

“Yeah.” He agrees but you see the uncertainty in his eyes. “But I wasn’t sure. Maybe hoping but I couldn’t be sure, you know?”

“Did you want me to be jealous?” You ask, unsure how that makes you feel but you see genuine and quiet panic all over his face while he shakes his head.

“No, no.” He tells you with big eyes. “But when I realized you were mad at me, I thought it could be because you were jealous. And,” He pauses, swallowing what you think is nerves. “That’s why I became hopeful, I guess.”

“And why is that?” A cool breeze suddenly picks up and it feels nice against your cheeks.

“Because it might mean…” His words grow quieter, seeking your understanding of where he was going. “But without being direct…well, I can’t really be sure, you know?”

“Then why can’t we be direct?” You gesture between your bodies, “I like you, Jungkook.” It doesn’t take a lot of effort to say it, to admit it, but it does take a lot of effort to not tear your eyes away from him in embarrassment. But your gaze remains on his.

“And there’s no way I’m imagining—”

“—You aren’t!” Jungkook panics, his fingers flying to your wrists, holding on to them as he persuades your eyes to remain on his again. “You aren’t imagining it. I know it, too.” He tells you but he looks and sounds conflicted.

“For months, Jungkook.” You say quietly, “I’ve been wondering for months if you’re going to make a real move on me.”

He can’t help but smile at you nervously, his clammy fingers still pressing into your wrists. “I just…” Jungkook’s smile begins dropping as he explains himself, “…I’m so afraid of talking about this because it might change our friendship and you’re just,” He pauses, eyes searching yours because he needs to see if you understand. “You’re too important, y/n.”

“You’d rather never tell me how you feel because it might change our friendship?” You ask him, ignoring the fire burning along the edges of your skin. “You would rather spend forever just wondering if I feel the same as you? Just like I’ve been wondering if you feel the same as me? Too afraid to talk about it because it…might change our friendship?”

Jungkook’s fingers finally disconnect from your skin and into his hair, his nerves only multiplying but he finds the courage to say, “If you didn’t feel the same, things would change.”

“If I didn’t feel the same then things wouldn’t have changed in the first place. Jungkook, things have already changed. And I don’t like wondering. We’re already past platonic so I’ll tell you—”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding.

A new memory unlocked.

And it only makes you sit on your attic floor and cry.

Great timing.

Your fingers feel frozen, maybe even numb as you dig through another random kitchen drawer to find the correct charger for the phone you’ve found. So far you haven’t been lucky. Then again, nothing feels lucky. You’ve been quiet to yourself all day after last night. Not even a thought out loud.

Your eyes grow watery again but you immediately slam your lids shut, squeezing tightly because you refuse to shed anymore tears. You might have to buy a new charger but you really aren’t in the mood to leave the house. You aren’t in the mood for anything except maybe hurling more old, worn out, decorative pillows at dusty furniture. But now you feel afraid for what you might find. The more mysteries you unlock, you’re afraid to unlock a memory along with it.

It's evening now, the kitchen clock says 6:13pm. The day has gone by. You watched the sun rise this morning and now you’re witnessing it set. You have yet to find it in you to sleep today. Maybe you’re afraid you’ll slip into your bed that you once shared with Jungkook and suddenly you’ll remember all the times you’ve slept in it with him. You can’t afford any more of that. Just yesterday you were begging 33 year old you to share some of the life you’ve missed and now that she is sharing some of the years…you’re realizing you aren’t ready.

You take a deep breath, shutting a drawer shut when you decide to order a new charging cable for the phone. Your eyes slide to the device that rests peacefully on the counter while your heart beats uncomfortably in your throat. You stare at it, wondering what contents lie inside but a part of you feels fearful of what you might find.

Taking another breath, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging yourself for a moment before you decide to take care of this. Sitting yourself at the kitchen island, opening your laptop, you search the phone and get the cable ordered for delivery tomorrow. This is better than driving yourself nuts trying to find it.

You close your eyes, resting your head down to the counter, wishing you could turn your day around.

Ding Dong.

Your eyes snap open.

And something unsettling starts whirling in your belly. As if you can sense who is at your door.

Knock Knock Knock.

You groan quietly to yourself because you just know. You know exactly who it is for some insane reason. You just feel it. You stand from the stool and walk yourself to your front door. Swinging it open without even peeping through the hole to confirm your suspicions.

Jungkook’s doesn’t look too good. For as handsome as he is, he looks rough. His skin is dry, his lips are pale and the bags under his eyes give away how much sleep he isn’t getting. You don’t care though. Not about him. Your fingers grip around the door frame tighter, your skin burning at the sight.

“I just wanted to see how you were.” He tells you, voice so quiet you had to read his lips. You want to scoff bitterly in his face, shut him out and make him feel thrown away.

But your foot pushes the front door further open as you turn around to go into the living room. You’ve invited him in. Though, ‘invited’ feels like a strong word.

You can hear the door creak open even furth from behind you, shoes are shuffling onto the floor and the door clicks shut. You hold your breath as you walk to the sofa, sitting yourself down at the very end of it as your eyes glue themselves to the black screen of the TV.

Jungkook follows your lead and sits at the other end of the couch. In your peripherals, he looks like a big, black scribble of a thousand swirling lines and you don’t have it in you to focus your eyes on him and let him appear as Jungkook. As a person. So, you keep your eyes on the TV.

Nothing is said between you both for a long while, all your senses are heightened though as you anticipate his next words to you. The hairs on your arms rise when the click of the AC goes off as it turns on. You wonder if his next words have to do with apologizing about cheating on you. Apologize to you that you just couldn’t be enough. Apologize to you for losing your son.

Your head slightly tilts in the direction of the kitchen when you notice the soft drip drops of water from the faucet. The distant bark from a small dog. Jungkook’s fingernails scratching his forearm. Every noise is going off in your ears, haunting you, taunting you and driving you insane.

You only want to hear his voice.

“Why are you here?” You finally break the noisy silence.

“To see you.” He says, voice quiet and afraid. “You’re doing better than me, huh?”

Your palms are flat against the couch cushion before you slowly curl your fingers, grabbing nothing of the material at his words. “Do you really think you get to say that to me?”

“This isn’t fair for either of us, y/n.” Jungkook has the audacity to keep speaking. “You just don’t understand.”

You twist your head to eye him, your jaw tight as you watch him sit on the sofa, eyes cowering away from yours. “You’ll stop talking now.” You tell him as your voice becomes quiet and afraid as well. You’re livid but you speak like you’re hurt.

“Then…” Jungkook pauses, his eyes going all around the living room now before he sighs. “Then I’ll just listen.”

You push your head back in disbelief, “I didn’t ask you to come here so I can talk to you. In fact, I didn’t ask you to come here at all.”

He finally turns his head toward you, his eyes are red and watery and you hate that you hate seeing him on the verge of tears. You watch his throat as you pay attention to the hard way he swallows. “I know. But I had to see you.”

Suddenly, your head starts pounding, a harsh banging from inside your forehead. You quickly let your head fall into your hands when those words keep repeating inside your mind. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you. I know. But I had to see you.

You groan into your hands. The pain erupting on all sides of your head. The words repeating over and over, making your ears feel like they’re bleeding. I know. But I had to see you.

“y/n?” You hear Jungkook’s quiet and afraid voice.

I know. But I had to see you.

“I thought you didn’t want to see me…” Jungkook’s eyes are blood shot. You know he’s been drinking again.

“I know.” You mutter, “But I had to see you.”

“Oh.” He stumbles backward, his hand widening his front door to his new, shitty apartment. You feel anger bubbling, because you know he’s drunk. You’re doing everything in your power to keep it together and he’s wasting his time drinking.

“You’ve shut out Jimin.” You tell him, cutting to the chase. “So you don’t know anything, do you?”

“W-What’s there to know? I don’t need them anymore. Also, I was fucking fired.”

You snap your eyes to his as he still stands at his open doorway. “You’re pissing me off, Jungkook.”

“I can do this on my—”

“—They’re closing the case.” You say. “They’re saying he’s…that he’s…” You pause, throat growing drier. “You know.”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook drunkenly shrugs, slamming the door shut, making you flinch. “They’re all wrong, anyway.”

You feel your shoulders growing tenser, your lips in a hard, thin line before they die into a frown. “They’re saying we should hold a funeral.”

Jungkook’s body goes still, his hanging arms at his sides suddenly rise to his face when he rubs his temples. “Excuse me?”

“They want to—”

“Just stop!” He suddenly cries out, voice shrill. You see his eyes growing redder and redder as tears fill them up. “None of you know what you-you’re talking about. Just shut up, all of you!”

You flinch.

Jungkook’s fingers go into his hair when he starts pulling on the strands. “This just isn’t right.” He keeps muttering to himself, “I got this. I got this. I got this.” He starts pacing back and forth in front of his coffee table. “Just stop. Stop talking.”

You stand in silence.

“I said stop talking!”

You watch him unravel.

“Jung—”

Glass breaks across the coffee table. A shattered soju bottle that he’s thrown.

You flinch again.

You take a step back.

Jungkook falls to the floor, crying and yelling at no one. The loss of your son is much worse than you could have imagined. But you knew telling Jungkook about the funeral was going to cause something more serious to unravel. But you didn’t imagine this.

“y/n?” Jungkook voice sounds sober now. “y/n?”

Your head is about to split into sections, the pain so overwhelming.

You lift your face from your hands, your cheeks overflowing with tears. Why did you have to remember that?

“Hey,” Jungkook stands from the sofa and comes closer to you. His hand hesitantly landing on your shoulder but just like in your memory, you flinch. He immediately frowns. “y/n…” He brings his hand back to his body. “Talk to me, I’ll just listen.”

“G-go.” You keep your head low as your eyes stay glued to your lap. “Please just go.”

His hands freeze at his sides, using all of his self-control. Even you can feel how tense his body is, just from the heat that radiates off of it. You’re being serious. He needs to go before you spiral into one of your throbbing headaches that give you a panic attack. The kind you can manage on your own—and prefer to.

“Please, Jungkook…” You squeeze your eyes shut. “I’m not feeling well now so pl—”

“—Okay.” His fingers curl into hard fists. “Call me if you need anything. Please.” He stands here for another moment, like his feet have become glued to the floor and he’s unable to move. But after a tentative sigh, they finally move. And your ears bleed again at each sound that can be heard. The click of the AC turning off, the small dog whining in your neighbor’s yard, each drip of water dropping from the faucet and finally the whoosh of the front door opening and closing shut. And you finally let go a long, long breath.

Your head hurts and your heart hurts, the memory fresh in your mind. You never imagined to see Jungkook…like that. You barely recognized him. Does he have a drinking problem? Or did? You need to erase these images in your head, or at least scatter something pretty over them. And that’s when you get an idea that you know is pure torture.

One of the boxes from the attic is sat on your living floor, with your bottom plopped right next to it. It’s a box you organized yourself, you can tell. Just a box of intimate memories with your ex-husband. You pull out a letter you’ve read at least six times now…might as well make it seven.

The envelope is pink with little hearts drawn all over it and though it’s only eight years old, it looks like it’s at least 20. The envelope itself is wrinkly with random water stains and the page inside is soft and used like you’ve read this letter a thousand times. Might as well make it a thousand and one.

You slip the paper out of the envelope, unfolding it carefully, the crinkling paper opening up with Jungkook’s handwriting written all over.

April 10 2015

Dear y/n,

Hi it’s me, your boooooyfriend. >.< sorry I’m still getting used to it. You’re probably wondering why I’m writing a letter when I could just call or text you but you seemed to think it was cute in that movie we watched the other day and so Im writing you one too!! Also, I think my peers are thinking Im working really hard on a case. I wish I was but they won’t give me anything good. I know it hasn’t even been a year since I finally landed here in the Investigation sector as a detective but they still treat me like such a rookie…blaaaahhhhh you know this already. The captain seems to think I have potential though. But ya know what? The guys here said the only thing ive done right so far is getting you as a girlfriend hahaha

Maybe they’re right I mean they’re definitely right

I miss you so much

Im sitting here at my desk writing you and its just making me miss you a kabillzillion times more…….i seriously aaaaahhhh im going crazy because I miss you that much

Im so lucky youre so amazing and my favorite person to exist and so pretty so pretty

I know we’ve only been together for a short while but what if I told you I know exactly how I feel about yoooouuuuu huh what if

Ask me about it when I see you tonight

Love,

Jungkook Your cheerios

You read it. Then you read it again. This is the Jungkook you want to remember.

It’s the next day and you’re opening the package you ordered just yesterday. Pulling out a small box, you get it open and unravel the charging cable to the phone you’ve found. Taking a look at the clock, you realize you’re a bit behind. You wanted to get to the café at noon for work but it’s already 15 after. You quickly plug the charger into the wall and get the phone charging. It’s dead so it’ll take a while to get turned on so you decide to leave it here while you head out.

The café is a bit busy today, more people than you’re used to, but thankfully you see an open table. You set up your laptop and get to work. Taking a pause to message Mijoo about needing some guidance if she can meet any of these days. It would be nice to have some help in person. After working for a bit, you can’t help but lift your face from the screen and dart your eyes around the place. No sign of Seokjin today. Not that it means anything but he’s got the kind of warm, reassuring smile that you could use these days.

And just like clockwork, the quiet bell dings when he walks through the café’s front door. He meets your eye immediately and gives you a small nod and the smile you were searching for. You nod back, eyes going back down to the laptop before you take another peak towards Seokjin. He’s walked up to the counter, talking with the young girl that’s always here. After a moment she hands him a box of what you assume are desserts. Maybe he’s giving them to the elderly again.

Then he walks out.

Oh, he isn’t staying today.

That’s okay, you don’t have time to chat with a harmless nice guy anyway. You have work to do. Something to truly get your mind off of everything else you’ve been going through. You think it’s a miracle you have it in you to try every day. In another universe, you might have already gone insane.

After working a little while longer, you pack your things up and head to your car. It’s a sunny day, barely any clouds in the sky and it feels warm. Warm enough to make you forget this coldness that lingers all around you, all inside you.

You start driving home when you remember you’re supposed to pick up a few groceries so you stop by the market first. It’s not too crowded and since you’re in an okay mood, you decide to put in your earphones and walk inside with a pep to your step. You needed zucchini…what else? Bread for sure was on your list. Peanut butter, eggs, oh yeah and some chips for when you get a craving.

You start heading to the aisle with peanut butter when you recognize someone familiar.

“Seokjin?” You mumble his name but he doesn’t hear you. His eyes fully focused on his jams. He stands here, deep in thought before he finally reaches for one.

“Hi.” You say a little louder and he jumps in his spot.

He turns to face you, ears turning red when he sees you. “Hi.” He stares at you dumbfounded for a moment, “I just realized I don’t know your name.” Then he chuckles.

You can’t help but crack a smile, “It’s y/n.”

“Ah, y/n. Yeah, that suits you.” He tells you confidently.

“Does it?”

“Do you usually shop here?” Seokjin gestures around the aisle, “I’ve never seen you before. Or are you…” He suddenly drops his smile and looks serious. “Following me?” Then he breaks into a huge smile before adding, “Dun, dun, duuuun.”

You feel your stomach swirl with something before you shake your head, feeling embarrassed. “No, no! I live around here actually. This is just a coincidence.”

“A coincidence, huh? A lot of those lately.” He gives you another smile, this time more teasing. “We should just meet on purpose, you know.”

You stand here, taken aback by his words. Is he implying meeting intentionally?

He seems to feel your shift. “Unless, unless…” His eyes avert yours now, his ears turning a deeper shade of red. “Sorry. Unless you don’t want to. Maybe you’re already seeing someone.”

You shake your head quickly, “No. I’m…I’m not.” You’re not but it feels wrong to say it. “But I wasn’t assuming…anything. Like, if you were implying a date or something.”

Seokjin pouts his lips before glancing up at the ceiling, “Why not? You would have been right.”

You blink at him, taken aback again. “Oh.”

“I happen to know a pretty great restaurant. Maybe we can not coincidentally meet there?”

He’s…asking you out.

And it pains you because… “I can’t. Sorry,” You look down at your feet before glancing towards the jams. “Umm, I’m kind of going through something and—”

“—Oh.” Seokjin nods his head quickly. “No, no. I understand…you don’t have to explain. I’m kind of going through something too and I know that a good way to get through it is some nice company every now and then.” He gives you a warm smile, all the teasing gone. “I understand you though. So don’t worry but…” He suddenly pats his pants pockets before looking delighted. “In case you change your mind…I’m learning to…how do they kids say…shoot my shot.” He suddenly pulls out a receipt and a pen and scribbles something on it before handing it to you.

His number.

“Just in case!” He cheeses harder.

“I honestly don’t think it’s a big deal.” Misuk looks at you through the camera, her face looking brighter. “It’s just a date!”

“It is a big deal.” You whine again, “I’m in love with someone else and I have a whole lot of mess going on.”

Subin nods her head sympathetically, “That’s true. But I think Misuk means it’s not a big deal because it could be…” She pauses, clearly thinking of the right words. It’s amusing to you to see they might agree on this. “A good thing? A simple thing! A little, you know, fun thing!”

“Exactly!” Misuk drags out the word, “You don’t have to fall in love but you’re so focused on…you know, your memories…that you aren’t living life.”

“Uh,” You begin to defend yourself, “I’m—”

“—Yes, yes.” Misuk waves you off, “You are getting back into work! And that’s good! But you really should start living a normal life again.”

“And…” Subin looks off camera, her eyes looking softer. “It’s kind of the same. You are missing your memories, yes, and I’m so sorry…but 33 year old you was the same. Divorced. And I don’t think you were in any headspace to even think about wanting Jungkook back.” She finishes quietly.

“You wanted nothing to do with him.” Misuk tells you. “So just live a little…you know, just normal things. And who knows, it might help with your memories.”

You sit still for a moment. You’ll admit that you haven’t exactly been living normally. You mostly sit around all day, alone, surrounding yourself with things you don’t understand and torture yourself with memories of Jungkook.

“Anyway, I’ll let you guys know if anything changes.” You chuckle after you focus your eyes on your friends again. “I just got home so I gotta put these groceries ...away" Your eye notices the list lying on the counter and you realize..."Damn, and I forgot the eggs. Anyway, I’ll call later!” You sing out.

“Okay! Bye!”

“Bye!” Subin sings back. And you end the call.

Maybe they’re right. Maybe you deserve a little break or something simple and fun. You bite your lip, thoughts still lingering but you decide to reach into your back pocket and pull out the receipt Seokjin gave you. You shake your head quickly but reach for your phone and input the number and press call. You need light in this darkness.

You hate feeling defeated.

Sitting on your sofa, blanket wrapped tightly around you as your hand clenches around this cold, empty and useless device.

The phone has either never been used or was completely wiped. You thought you could torture yourself with more information but you’ve come out of this empty handed. There’s nothing on here. No call history, no text history, no pictures or videos…nothing. You squeeze the phone harder, frustration still building. When your actual phone buzzes.

Your eyes shoot down to your now lit up phone and you drop the useless one to the couch cushion. It might be Subin gushing about this band she’s seeing this weekend. You’ll ignore—

Buzz.

You give in, reaching for your phone and your stomach does its usual uneasy swirling.

Jungkook 9:10pm

How are you feeling?

Jungkook 9:10pm

We don’t have to talk but at least tell me how youre doing…

Your eyes slam shut, the urge to cry too strong. Because you’re hurt. You’re hurting. You’re confused. You’re angry. And you’re sad.

Why are you so weak? You should delete him, block him and throw your whole phone away. Because your phone knows him and you don’t.

But you’re weak because you’re going to text back.

Except Jungkook beats you to it.

Jungkook 9:13pm

Did you get hit with a headache earlier? You okay? Have you seen your doctor lately?

All these questions are giving you different kind of headache.

You 9:13pm

Its fine, Im fine

You lie

Jungkook 9:13pm

Liar

You 9:14pm

Jungkook

You 9:14pm

Do you have a drinking problem?

You press send. You see the bubbles pop up your screen, indicating that he’s typing but they disappear. Then they reappear. And disappear again.

You 9:16pm

Jungkook?

Jungkook 9:16pm

Who told you that?

You feel your shoulders tense.

You 9:16pm

No one told me

You 9:17pm

I just remember when I went to your place…there was a lot of alcohol lying around and the place seemed rough

You 9:17pm

And idk I got thinking. Im not trying to accuse you or anything but…is what I saw…what I think it is?

You send. It’s not a total lie. Not what you’re referring to…but not a total lie.

You stare at the screen but there’s no indication if he’s read your message or not. No typing. Nothing. Your eyes glance at the clock and it reads 9:19pm now. It’s okay. Only two minutes. But why does it feel like eternity?

9:25pm and all you’ve done is sit, tightly wrapped in a blanket on your couch, and stare at your phone screen, touching the screen every time it times out. And still nothing.

But then you see bubbles pop up.

Back straightening, you breathe in and out as your eyes remain on the screen.

He’s been typing for three minutes.

You hold your breath now.

Jungkook 9:28pm

And if it is?

You let out a short breath, disbelief crawling all over your skin that you throw the blanket off of you and stand from the couch. Your memories are reliable.

You feel a sting pierce your eyes but you grit your teeth and hold any tears back. This is just too much for you to accept. You walk into the kitchen, frustration raging inside your body. You step up to the sink, hands gripping the edge of the counter before leaning forward, sighing out your anger.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Calming down, you immediately grab a bowl and sniffle to yourself. You’ll just do these dishes and forget all about this.

You take another bowl, the hot water burning your fingers and palms as you absentmindedly scrub it clean.

“Sometimes I think you wash clean dishes at this point.” Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest.

You laugh, “Not true.”

“The water is too hot, baby.” He nuzzles his face into your neck, suddenly pecking it softly. “You’re going to melt the skin off your bones.”

You realize he’s right, the water is really hot but you were just lost in thought. Your wedding is in two days. You get out of your thoughts while you set the bowl back into the sink and turn the faucet off. “I’m just—”

“I know.” Jungkook nuzzles his nose into your warm skin. “I can’t believe you’re the one who’s nervous between us.”

You sigh, small smile on your face. “I’m not nervous. But I am, a little.”

“I know.”

“Not in a bad way.”

“I know that too.”

“In a…marrying the love of my life, wow life is crazy kind of way.” You dry your hands before twisting in Jungkook’s embrace and you lean in to kiss him. “You probably know what I mean.”

He laughs against your lips, “I would be the one who knows exactly what you mean.”

Your lips twist into a sheepish smile, “I missed you today.”

“I missed you more.”

You roll your eyes, a teasing smile forming now. “Liar.”

He looks surprised for a second before rolling his own eyes, “I’m serious.”

“You’re only serious about work nowadays.” You tease him, and you are mostly teasing. It’s only lately he’s been zeroed in on a case.

But Jungkook frowns, “It isn’t going well.” He admits to you. “I don’t know that we’ll get this one.”

“You will.” You lean forward more and nudge your nose against his, “You are the best there is.”

Jungkook chuckles, “Unfortunately I’m still in the ‘proving myself’ phase.”

“Here too.” You continue to tease him, “Still deciding if this wedding is happ—”

“—Heeeeey, don’t joke like that.” Jungkook nudges his nose against yours now, “Tell me I’m the best here too.”

Your hands trail down his chest, eyes focusing on his. “You are.”

“I wish Jimin would tell me that too.” He laughs a little but you know he’s serious. You take his hands in yours.

“You guys are new at being partners. Give it time, babe.”

“He hates me.” Jungkook sighs, “He thinks I mess everything up. And honestly, I can’t blow this one, y/n. The captain believes in me, which is good but my own partner doubts me.”

You understand this is hard for Jungkook to accept.

“Listen…” You give his hands a squeeze. “This is your first big one, right? Take it slow and I know you won’t get flustered like the last one.”

He immediately drops his hands from yours, “I can’t get like how I was with the last one.” Jungkook takes a step away from you, “This one is way too serious…the men I’m dealing with, y/n…you have no idea. I can’t mess this up.”

“Baby…” You feel bad for bringing up the last case he took with Jimin. He got too involved emotionally and when things didn’t end up well for the victim…”It’s okay. You have me to talk about this with and—”

“—But I don’t. I’m legally not allowed to. I got in trouble with sharing so much last time and…fuck,” Jungkook pauses. Closes his eyes slowly before taking a step forward and reaching for your hands again. “This is not what we need to be talking about right before our wedding. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You give his hands another squeeze. “We share our lives. With or without marriage, right?”

“I only wanna talk about us.” He breathes out softly, his lips inching closer to yours. “Let’s focus on you and me.”

And your skin is burning again. It’s on fire. Too much fire, it hurts.

And that’s when you realize you’re still here at your kitchen sink, hot lava rushing to your skin, burning you as you hold the bowl you were cleaning.

You take a deep breath, taking a step back from the sink when you slam your eyes shut and let out a loud groan. You don’t even flinch when the sound of glass hits the floor because you’ve thrown the bowl. You don’t care.

Another memory.

And it seems they’re all out of order.

Another bead of sweat dribbles down the side of Jungkook’s face, rolling right off his skin. And another miserable night. He gently throws his head back against the bathroom wall, his hairline drenched from hour two of hurling in the toilet. He’s drank too much again. Maybe some bad food poisoning in there. But even still, he knows he’s drank too much.

He isn’t abusing the alcohol, really. Not lately. But he knows what it can do to him. He hates it. He hates himself.

He hates this existence.

Jungkook squeezes his eyes shut before he groans to himself, knocking his head back a few more times. What is he doing?

He misses you.

He wants to make things right.

How?

Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before trying to stand from the floor. He’s wobbly but he manages. He’s tired and he isn’t sleeping and he can’t because he knows you’re not. This is how he feels like he’s with you, the only real support he can give.

He looks at himself in the mirror, his tired eyes staring back at him. He wants to tell that guy to fuck off, for some reason. He wants to scoff at him and offer him no sympathy. Jungkook wants to raise his hands to that man’s throat and squeeze. He wants to swear at him and curse him. His mouth twists and his eyes grow teary and he sighs. Because all he can do is cry for him.

His head snaps up when the bathroom counter vibrates from his phone. Someone’s texted.

Unknown Number

Its me

Buzz.

Unknown Number

We need to talk

#bts #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #bts angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #jungkooks fics #Kim Namjoon #Kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #Kim taehyung #our time chapter 7

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junesilk · 2 months

Note

hihi can you write abt how sleeping (in the literal sense) with the main 4 would go? separately if you can pls <33

SLEEP TO DREAM

aka: how the hxh main 4 sleep with you!

characters included: kurapika, leorio, killua, gon

kurapika—

He’s a silent sleeper for sure. You could wake up and forget he’s even there.

I think he might be kind of a blanket hoarder, just because he gets cold. He doesn’t mean to, he swears!

Very peaceful. You could watch him sleep for hours, because he’s just a pretty sleeper.

He gets nightmares, sometimes, about everything he’s been through.

Nights like those, the only thing that soothes his pain is being held by you.

On a lighter note, he likes drinking warm tea before he sleeps. It’s a habit he got into when he was in his early teens, and now it’s just instincts.

He always offers to pour you a cup, too.

leorio—

Doesn’t sleep very much due to him being busy studying, but when he does, he’s a mess.

You’ll go to bed cuddling and wake up and he’s on the floor, along with all of the blankets off of the bed.

Speaking of cuddling, he’s huge on having you in his arms. Spooning? Yes. Laying your head on his chest? Of course.

A human heater. It’s nice on those cold winter nights, but in summer.. it can be a bit much.

Snores like a dad.

Goes to bed after you and wakes up before you. He’s naturally more of a morning person, due to school and work.

On the rare occasion he gets to sleep in, he wakes you up by pressing loving little kisses to the crook of your neck.

killua—

Being an assassin and all, he’s expected to be silent and still when he sleeps.

But when he’s around you, he feels a level of comfort that lets him break out of those habits.

He’s a sprawled out sleeper. Takes up over half of the bed when he’s fully relaxed, but you don’t mind much.

Killua doesn’t dream often, but when he does, he mumbles a bit.

You can sometimes hear him say a few words at most. Usually, it’s your or Gon’s name.

Also a clinger, I’d imagine. He just likes to be close to you, so he can protect you! Totally not because he loves the feeling of you in his arms.

Or even, him in your arms. He feels like he’d be a little spoon.

gon—

Naturally, he’s another calm sleeper. He’s still when he sleeps, just because that’s how he’s always slept.

He might snore, but when he does, it’s pretty quiet.

At most, he’d have his arm wrapped around you, but I don’t see him fully clung to you.

You both like your space, and you both don’t need a large amount of physical touch to be happy.

He can fall asleep strangely quickly. It’ll be late at night, and you’re quietly telling him a story about your past.

Look over, and he’s silently slumped over, asleep in minutes.

It’s not that he wasn’t listening, your voice was just so calming that he fell asleep!

When asked about it, he somehow knows the entire story in all of its length, like he was listening in his sleep.

tried to be more even with the length of each one of these this time! reblogs/likes very much appreciated but not necessary <3

#kurapika x reader #leorio x reader #killua x reader #gon x reader #hxh x reader #hunter x hunter x reader #junesilk

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mypoisonedvine · 2 years

Text

semi-human nature {alpha!aemond targaryen x omega!reader x alpha!daemon targaryen}

{summary} a visit to king's landing goes awry when you go into your first heat— unaware not only that you are an omega, but also that your uncle and stepfather are alphas.

{word count} 6.7k

{warnings} smut (a/b/o standards like heat, breeding, knotting, all that good stuff; kinda dubcon because the reader doesn't totally understand what's happening at first), incest and stepcest (the reader is rhaenyra's daughter making her daemon's stepdaughter and aemond's niece), virginity loss, kinda painful sex/pain kink near the end, threesome, oral m receiving, spitroast, discussions of pregnancy, infidelity (daemon is married to rhaenyra), basically no plot just filthiness

Your visits to King's Landing were far too rare for your tastes. You didn't mind that Dragonstone was your home, it was beautiful there and you and your brothers found plenty to do and see— but you missed the old castle at times, missed the adventure and mystery there. Most of all, you missed your extended family. Though, really, you only missed some very specific members of it.

Firstly, you missed your Aunt Helaena, because she'd always been kind to you and taught you some things when you were a girl— like how to braid hair and how to play her flute (but you were never very good at either). Secondly, and much more, you missed your Uncle Aemond. As cunning and cold as he could be to others, he tended to be sweet with you, as long as you could remember. The older you both got, the more you started to feel more than a friendly, or familial, connection with him— your girlish daydreams sometimes drifted to what it would be like if you married him someday, but you figured that would never happen with the growing animosity between your family and his. Still, when he smiled at you, or when he kissed your head the tender way he did, you couldn't help but hope he felt as you did.

But you loved your family here, of course— your mother was sweet to you, as her only daughter, and your stepfather Daemon loved you as his own. (Some cast a suspicious eye at the two of you, thinking maybe he loved you more than his own… but he was just affectionate, that’s all.)

In fact, he was being characteristically tender with you as you approached King’s Landing, rubbing your arm reassuringly until you smiled up at him. “I’m sure you’re the happiest of any of us to be here,” he told you with a smirk.

“You aren’t happy to see your brother?” you pressed, but he never answered. Your conversation was interrupted by the end of the journey being reached; they were waiting in the courtyard for you, and even though there was a tension in the air between everyone, you couldn’t help but smile shyly at Aemond. He looked back at you, the smallest curl growing on his lips, and your heart fluttered.

For now, you had to behave calmly and politely. But as soon as dinner preparations had begun and everyone had separated to manage individual matters, you ran through the castle to find Aemond in his chambers— and flung yourself into his arms with a squeal of delight.

He hugged you in return, though he tried to soothe you as he laughed softly at your excitement. “It hasn’t been so long, has it, niece?” he asked with a smirk— so smug about the way you clearly had missed him.

“You missed me too, didn’t you?” you sighed, pulling back to look up at his face; he wore the softest smile for you— his one eye sparkled brighter than the sapphire when he looked at you, you swore it, and you were glad you caught him without his patch to hide behind.

“Of course, sweet girl,” he promised. “My— you’ve grown, haven’t you? Weren’t you a little girl last you visited? And now I’ve got a woman in my arms.”

You flushed with warmth in your face and chest when he spoke like that— you felt most like a woman in his arms, anyway, even though your stepfather had commented more than once as well on your development as of late. “You act like I’m so much younger than you, Aemond,” you mumbled shyly. Somehow, you felt most like a woman when he held you; and, even more strangely, most like that little girl he remembered when he looked at you like that.

The embrace was cut short when you felt that dizzy feeling again, your eyes blinking quickly and the heat of your flush growing almost unbearable for a moment. “Are you alright?” he asked, seeing your dazed reaction.

“Y-yes, I’m— this happens,” you mumbled, trying to find your balance again as he stepped forward to keep you from falling. “Fainting spells— w-well, except I don’t faint… I just feel strange.”

He narrowed his eye, looking you up and down. “Strange?”

“Hot,” you whispered, throat a little dry— suddenly you could smell him, and he smelled perfect: it reminded you of snow-covered pine, icy and sturdy just like him. Why couldn’t you smell that before?

He pressed his hand to your forehead, and you bit your lip to keep from whimpering. The heat just seemed to spread all over you, and your head spun as your knees went a little weak. “How long has this been going on? Do your parents know?” he asked quickly.

You struggled to keep your thoughts in order enough to answer, a cramp hitting your gut all of a sudden— that had happened before, too, but the episodes never lasted this long before… which was why you hadn’t told your parents, it didn’t seem notable at the time. Now, of course, as pain twisted inside you, you regretted that. “J-just… just a few…” you tried to respond, but then you couldn’t even remember how many days it had been. All you could remember was this moment, and you reached up to clutch at his shoulders. You swore you heard him growl as he pulled you into him, and the noise made a shiver run through your body.

“I think you may be— fuck,” he interrupted himself, and you felt his nose brush against the side of your face as he breathed in deeply beside your neck. You were so soothed by his touch that you didn’t even really consider how bizarre it was that he buried his face there, smelling and tasting your skin. “You’re presenting— poor thing, it hurts, doesn’t it?”

You didn’t know what that meant, but yes, it hurt; you whined as you nodded, making weak fists that tugged on his leather tunic.

“I can help you,” he promised, “I can take that pain away.”

“Uncle,” you whimpered, “please— help me, please, I don’t understand what’s hap—”

“Shh, sweet girl,” he cooed softly, “you’ll be alright— it’s all well, I’m here now… I’ll help you, omega.”

Your eyebrows knitted— you weren’t sure you heard him right… omega? Maybe it was a Valyrian word you hadn’t heard before? You’d always daydreamed during your lessons as a child, and you certainly were less fluent than your uncle Aemond.

“All you have to do is as you’re told,” he instructed. “Do what I say and I’ll take care of you.”

“Please,” you whined again, another cramp in your core hitting— and with it, a heat between your legs that you realised with distant shame was wetness flooding you. He took a deep breath in and groaned, suddenly pulling you with him across the room. You didn’t realise he was taking you to the bed until you felt it under your back.

“I can help you,” he said again, kissing all over your flushed face as you clutched at him desperately. His hands started to slide up under your dress and pet your legs which spread wide for him instinctively, your hips shaking as more slick leaked from your opening. “Your Alpha’s here, my darling…”

Before you could even consider asking what any of this meant— you were so needy, you might just let it all happen regardless— Daemon burst in the room.

“Fuck,” he blurted out when he saw you writhing on the bed while Aemond touched you. “Is she really—? I can smell her from across the courtyard, fuck, so sweet…”

“Leave us, Uncle,” Aemond ordered instantly, “she’s mine.”

“She’s my daughter, I should be the one to help her,” Daemon sneered. He crossed the room and approached the bed as Aemond held you tighter, defensively.

“She’s not your daughter,” Aemond scoffed, “she’s your wife’s bastard— and she’ll be my omega.”

Daemon shoved his nephew off of you with a growl, making you whimper. “Please— please…” was all you could say. You weren’t even sure what that sentence would be if you had the ability to finish: please don’t fight, perhaps, or please touch me.

“I should claim her,” Daemon insisted, descending on you next with a sweet purr. “Don’t you want Papa to help you now?”

You whined in confusion, one hand shakily reaching up to hold onto your stepfather’s shoulder— but the other found Aemond’s hand and squeezed it tightly. “Let her decide,” Aemond decided, knowing you were so affectionate for him— Daemon might agree to that measure, thinking you would choose your stepfather first, if he thought you understood what was being asked of you.

“She can’t decide now,” Daemon hissed, “she’s presenting, she’s delirious— and she doesn’t even know what she is!”

“She doesn’t—?!” Aemond repeated, eyes wide as he looked back and forth between you two. “You never taught her? You never told her—!”

“We didn’t know!” Daemon defended. “We thought— everyone thought Rhaenyra would be an omega, as pure as she is, but she never presented… we just assumed—”

“How deprived you were, niece,” Aemond cooed at you, stroking your arm. “Your mother never taught you about us— about how special our family really is, that you might be—”

“What am I?” you whimpered, shaking, looking up at your uncle with teary eyes. He held your face and pet your cheek gently, but there was a rageful hunger in his eye like you’d never seen.

“You’re mine,” he answered.

“Ours,” Daemon corrected. “She’ll belong to both of us.”

Even though you still barely had any idea what was going on, you knew how dangerous of a proposition that was. Neither your uncle nor stepfather were ones for sharing…

Though he snarled in chagrin, Aemond was nodding as he pulled you into him again. “We’ll both help you, all right?” he prompted you quietly. “Your stepfather and I— we can both help you. You just have to do as you’re told…”

“Please,” you repeated weakly; you were carried to the bed and all but thrown onto it, a moment later feeling Daemon’s hands help undress you right away.

“I want her first,” Aemond informed Daemon firmly.

“You know how long I’ve waited for this, boy?” Daemon snapped, making his nephew laugh coldly.

“What a naughty Papa you are,” he smirked. “Will your wife approve of you fucking her daughter?”

“Wh-what?!” you choked. “What… what will you do to me?”

Daemon growled in the back of his throat as your dress was torn away, and you felt two pairs of hands run all over your bare skin as Aemond pulled you to lay on him. “As your uncle told you,” Daemon answered, “we’ll help you.”

Did they have to be so fucking cryptic all the time?!

“I’m having her first,” Aemond insisted again, “I found her first. You’ll have your turn.”

He helped you to straddle his lap, reaching down to quickly free himself from his trousers with a sigh; your legs were shaking already, and you jolted when you felt him press his cock up to your opening.

“U-Uncle,” you whimpered, “are you— will we really—?”

“Haven’t you wanted this, sweet girl?” Aemond whispered in your ear. “Don’t you want me to fill you?”

Though you whined before you let yourself admit it, you nodded. “Yes,” you choked, “yes— I wanted this.”

Aemond gave his uncle a little smirk, admiring the look on Daemon’s face— some impossible, forbidden mix of a jealous lover and a disapproving father. Apparently, he thought his stepdaughter was more loyal, and wouldn’t fall for her uncle sat so firmly on the other side of political lines. But love is funny like that— especially where Targaryens are involved.

“Call me your Alpha,” Aemond instructed in a low groan by your ear, struggling to resist his instinct to simply take you without any more delay— he’d been fighting his desire the second he first smelled you, not wanting to rush it too much, but both men were overcome with the need to be inside you as you shuddered and whimpered.

“Alpha,” you whispered back, feeling a pull to obey much more than usual when he spoke to you this way. “My Alpha…”

He pulled your hips down, sliding his cock inside you all at once. His head fell back as your hips rested on his; you cried loudly, feeling a sharp stretch— but more than pain, much more, there was pleasure, relief, and satisfaction. You went totally limp in his arms and let him guide you to grind your hips just as he liked; “Fuck,” he panted, “you’re even more perfect than I ever— ah— ever imagined, dear niece— sweet omega…”

“Uncle,” you sobbed, clinging onto him tightly. He was right— the pain had gone, for the most part, now all you had was this need for more… for everything. Even though you were so weak and helpless, you found yourself able to move on top of him, bouncing up and down in his lap to find some more of that impossibly-perfect friction; he watched you with pride and lust in his smile. “Aemond, it feels— oh…”

“It feels right,” he finished for you, “doesn’t it?”

You nodded in agreement, shivering when you realised the fingers ghosting up and down your spine were your stepfather’s. “How does she feel?” he asked in a rough voice that would’ve been terrifying if you didn’t trust him completely.

“Hot,” Aemond answered quickly. “So hot inside— she really is a dragon.”

They both laughed a little, though it wasn’t because it was funny— it was a specific emotion you’d never seen on either of them until now. Daemon leaned in and kissed the back of your neck, making you gasp and whine and lean back into his arms as you kept riding Aemond dutifully; Aemond hissed slightly, digging his fingers into your hips.

“She… she tensed up on me when you kissed her there,” Aemond said with a gasp. “Fuck— I didn’t know she could get any tighter…”

“Beautiful,” Daemon praised you in a mumble against your skin, fingers now exploring more as he lightly tickled your sides and teased your breasts. “Are you being good for him, omega? Taking care of your uncle as you should?”

You gasped and nodded, eyes heavy and wet. “Yes— yes, Papa…”

He hummed deeply, properly groping your chest now as he licked your neck, even nipping at it with his teeth to make you tighten inside again and again. “F-fuck,” Aemond choked, “I won’t— I can’t take much more of that, she’s so— she’s perfect, you can’t imagine how perfect—”

“I don’t have to,” Daemon growled, pulling you off of Aemond who whimpered and begged to have you back— but the older man was well past the limit of his patience, snarling as he positioned you onto your hands and knees. He held your shoulder to keep you steady, hard cock flexing at the way you hung your head in submission and turned just enough to look back at him innocently over your shoulder. He smiled as you as he gripped himself inside his trousers, silently praying for the patience not to tear you open as soon as he could. Yes, you were his omega, and his stepdaughter— his property in more ways than one— but he would prefer not to hurt you, and his instincts were fighting against his logical mind in that regard.

When he exposed himself, he saw you trying to look— trying to see if your Papa’s cock would break you, and he just chuckled slightly to himself.

“You’ll be able to take it,” he promised roughly, “you’re made to take it.”

He lined himself up, knocking your knees further apart with his own before plunging inside with a long sigh. You cried again but pushed back against him, too; your hands still clung weakly onto your uncle, who soothed you and kissed your tears away encouragingly.

“You were right,” Daemon sighed, electing to just hold you still and stay buried as deep as he could go for a moment. “She’s— fuck.”

Aemond took one of your hands from his shoulder and guided it down to his cock, still soaked from your slick; he guided you to stroke it with your shaking fingers, whispering filthy praises in your ear while Daemon fucked you slowly (at first). “You have to take care of both of us,” your uncle reminded you. “Gods, you smell so sweet… I could smell you from across the hall, that’s how I found you— I knew you needed me, needed an Alpha to breed you.”

“I… I don’t understand…” you mumbled, gasping as your stepfather picked up his pace and fucked you more roughly.

“We should tell her now,” Daemon decided. “Well, you should— I’m quite busy already— fuck, so tight…”

“Would you like me to tell you everything, sweet girl?” Aemond asked you, tightening your grip on his cock when you nodded. “Just keep— keep stroking me, and I’ll tell you.”

“Yes,” you agreed, “anything…”

“Our family is very special,” Aemond explained to you— which you already knew, but clearly there was more to it than you were taught. “There’s a reason we keep to our own, protect our bloodline: some of us are… gifted. Like your stepfather and I.”

“Like you,” Daemon added, though he was struggling to focus on any conversation as he used you.

“I always knew you were meant for more, my lovely niece,” Aemond cooed, though his nostrils flared for a moment as he moved your hand to wank him faster. “And you are— meant to give us a new branch of the family, purer than any that came before…”

Even with your mind still clouded with desperation, you knew how you were expected to do that. “You’ll— you’ll get me pregnant?” you realised with a shaky gasp.

Aemond nodded, smiling as he kissed your face. “Don’t worry— it won’t be as difficult for you as it was for your mother. She’s not like us, she’s… weaker.”

“They all are,” Daemon added, in defence of his wife. “It’s been generations since an omega was born to us.. even in as pure a family as ours, it’s rare— only your uncle and I are Alphas.”

“It makes you much more fertile,” Aemond continued, “it makes us need to care for you— with our bloodline, there’s a small chance any of us could be like this… but our children, with both their parents being this way, they’ll all be gifted in the same way. Think of the generations we’ll sire, and it all starts tonight…”

Clearly, he was excited by the prospect of keeping you bred for years to come, creating a new line of Targaryens guaranteed with these ‘gifts’ of fertility and instinct… well, you weren’t quite as keen. Even as your body longed for the promise of being impregnated, your mind filled with fear. “I— what if I can’t—?” you started to wonder.

“You will,” Aemond promised, without even knowing what concerned you— because he didn’t have to. “You can do anything, omega, you’ll do anything for your Alphas. It’s your nature; you obey.”

Just as he said it, Daemon thrust especially roughly into you and made you quiver. A pleasure began to build in your gut, heavy and hot, while your stepfather let go of all pretence and fucked you with all the passion and possessiveness he’d been holding back for years. He bent down over you and gave open-mouthed kisses to your back, making you feel small in his grasp and feeling the heat of every moan and sigh spread over your skin. “So perfect,” he said again, “it’s better than anything— you really were made for pleasure, weren’t you, omega?”

“Haven’t you had enough?” Aemond sneered at his uncle. “I think it’s time for my turn again.”

“You can have your turn after I’ve knotted her,” Daemon decided.

Aemond grabbed you angrily, pulling you forward and slipping Daemon’s cock out of you— both of you reacting in disappointment.

“Your knot? Please,” Aemond scoffed, “that could take hours— I need her now.”

“So do I,” Daemon insisted, but Aemond was determined to get inside you again. Breathing through his teeth, he pushed his cock back into you roughly, guiding your hips to make sure he filled you to the very brim. Shivering, you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him fuck into you, accepting that it was better to let them do whatever they liked with you and just hope you didn’t get ripped to shreds in their fight over you.

“So beautiful,” Aemond sighed just before he kissed you on the lips— you let your mouth go slack right away, offering it for him to claim as well; his kiss was filthy and hungry and desperate, making you moan and whimper his name helplessly as he fucked you harder and harder.

“Don’t make me watch this,” Daemon pleaded with a whine, easily the most pathetic you’d ever heard him sound. “I need— fuck, she smells so good…”

“You can fuck her again,” Aemond promised, only breaking away from the kiss long enough to speak, “when I’m done.”

“When you’re done?” Daemon realised. “You’re going to knot her, aren’t you? Fucking bastard.”

Of course, the only thing that could make Aemond stop kissing you was a chance to argue with your stepfather. “I wouldn’t speak of bastards if I were you, Uncle,” Aemond taunted. “Let her use her hand on you while you wait.”

“Hand? I have much greater ideas than that,” Daemon informed you both proudly. He moved around from his place behind you, kneeling beside where Aemond laid so he could pull you away from the kiss and push his cock up to your face. “Use your mouth, omega— stick your tongue out for me.”

Doing as you were told, you whimpered slightly as he slid the fat head of his cock over your waiting tongue.

“Good,” he praised, staring down at you and petting your hair soothingly. “You do so well for us both, darling— now close your lips on it. Suckle on it, not too hard— fuck, fuck, how perfect you are…”

“I don’t especially care for your bollocks in my face, Uncle,” Aemond frowned.

“Lean away,” Daemon offered, not exactly sympathetic to the issue when he was so focused on the warmth of your mouth on his cock.

“I can’t! Your knee is on my hair!” Aemond snapped, and Daemon finally moved enough for Aemond to yank his head away with a grimace.

“You see why I keep mine shorter now,” Daemon chuckled.

“I doubt that’s exactly why,” Aemond rolled his eyes, but knowing how perverse his uncle could be, he almost worried that he actually had found himself on the other end of the same issue before.

“My apologies,” Daemon offered in a mumble, but Aemond clearly wasn’t going to hold a grudge— he was moaning again already, holding your hips so he could buck up into you, kissing all along your opposite shoulder while your stepfather pushed his cock deeper into your mouth.

In fact, he kept sliding his thick shaft between your swollen lips until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat, making you gag. You wanted to apologise, but you didn’t for two reasons: one, your mouth was full; two, Daemon only moaned louder, praising you again. In fact, he kept making you gag over and over until a tear ran down your cheek. “Let her breathe,” Aemond ordered, sounding almost hurt with how worried he was for you.

Daemon pulled out of your mouth to let you gasp and sputter, Aemond holding your face and kissing it repeatedly to try to soothe you. “I-I’m alright,” you promised, “let me try again, please, Papa—”

Daemon grinned darkly as he pushed his cock back up to your lips.

“You’re too sweet, omega— you want so much to please your Alphas, I know.”

“Don’t go so hard on her,” Aemond warned, “you know if you hurt her at all, it will be hard not to kill you.”

Daemon was more amused than concerned by the threat, but he knew his nephew was right— not just about the way Alphas would defend their mates instinctively (Daemon understood that instinct firsthand, it was how poor Vaemond met his end), but about the fact that he should be gentler with you. You weren’t one of his whores, you were his sweet daughter and a new omega— you needed to be treated with care. But it was almost impossible to keep calm in a time like this. “You should know how difficult it is to hold myself back,” Daemon sighed, “having to smell her and see her and listen to her— her mouth isn’t enough, I need her cunt.”

"Well, so do I," Aemond countered.

Unfortunately for Aemond, Daemon was stronger— and terribly impatient. He growled and yanked you off of Aemond, throwing you onto your back and roughly filling you again. You gasped, overwhelmed by being thrown back and forth between them, with never enough time for your body to get properly used to one or the other. It certainly felt different looking up at your stepfather as he fucked you, seeing him groan and bare his neck as he moved his hips quickly. "Papa," you gasped, properly accepting for the first time that it was your stepfather— your mother's husband, your great uncle— fucking you now. He smiled down at you, holding himself up by one hand as he touched your face with the other.

"Darling," he whispered, "you knew, didn't you? That I wanted you in this way?"

Honestly, you weren't sure— it all felt like a lifetime ago now; presenting as an omega was disrupting enough to your worldview, being claimed by your uncle and stepfather made it even more sure that this felt like the beginning of something entirely new.

"Daemon, everyone knew," Aemond assured. "You were never subtle."

You wanted to ask if your mother knew— but the pleasure kept you from speaking anything coherent, and the instincts controlling your body kept you from feeling any guilt. Like Aemond said, it just felt so right, so natural that you knew nothing about this could be wrong.

Aemond pulled you into another kiss, laying beside you and touching you anywhere he could reach— starting first with your breasts, which he broke away from your lips to latch onto next. You moaned loudly, feeling terrible sensitive with Aemond's tongue and lips teasing your hardened nipples. "How full these will be…" Aemond whispered reverently against your skin. "All your milk for our babies… you're incredible— our little omega, you'll carry so many beautiful Targaryens in you…"

You whimpered, reaching down to find Aemond's throbbing cock— he hissed as you gripped it, trying to stroke him the same way he'd guided you before. "I— I want to please you, Alpha…"

He groaned and smiled, coming back up to your lips again but holding your face so he could look at you closely. "I know, sweet girl— it's in your nature. You live to serve, don't you, omega?"

Whining slightly, you nodded, and he captured your mouth in another kiss.

The thrusts into you grew faster and more erratic, rocking your body as you gasped. Aemond's hand slipped down over your mound, finding your swollen bud and rubbing it as Daemon fucked you with ruthless intensity. It was too much: it made your back arch and your throat catch.

"Come, omega," Daemon ordered; helpless to his commands, you sucked in a gasp against Aemond's lips and felt another wave of hot slick leak from between your quivering legs. Both men groaned, and you swore you saw Aemond's eye go black as he took a deep inhale of your heady scent in the air.

"So obedient," Aemond observed, "I hadn't even known that omegas could come on command… what a talent."

There was this embarrassing squelching noise coming from where your stepfather drove his cock into you, your arousal coating his and your thighs as he held the back of your knees.

“Fuck!” Daemon grunted suddenly, and you struggled and whimpered as you felt his cock seem to swell— more and more, well past what you thought was possible, until you cried out from the fullness.

“Alpha!” you sobbed, hearing him snarl as he held your hips to keep you from trying to get away.

“Are you—?” Aemond realised, growling with jealousy. “Fuck, you’re breeding your own stepdaughter, you’re unforgivable…”

“It’s— fuck, just wait, nephew,” Daemon promised, still panting as more of his sticky come flooded inside you.

“I can’t wait,” Aemond whimpered, “I need to breed her, you know I need to—”

“It’ll be worth the wait,” Daemon assured, “it’s unlike anything— gods, she’s—”

He never finished any of those sentences, just moaning and continuing to pump his seed into you as he breathed heavily. “What’s happening?” you asked Aemond with a shaky whimper.

“Your Papa is filling you, omega,” he answered, petting your side as you shivered. “One of the ways we’re different— Alphas, we… we have something called a knot. It keeps us inside so you’ll never waste a drop of seed— but only omegas can fit something so large, we have to… make concessions, with other lovers.”

“We can never be… fully inside, when we finish,” Daemon panted, “or we’ll hurt them— could kill them, really. But you, you… you take it so well, omega, you take it perfectly… fuck!”

“I-it hurts, a little,” you admitted, trying not to move so you wouldn’t disturb the soreness inside you. “It’s— how is it so big?”

Daemon smirked proudly, holding onto you just as tightly though he’d finished spilling his seed already. He tilted his head back slightly first as he took deep and fast breaths, only to drop it forward limply as silver strands hung limply around his face.

"Fuck," Daemon sighed again, "I never could've imagined how it would feel… being so deep within you, that sweet cunt keeping my knot warm inside— darling, it's incredible."

He stroked your face approvingly as you sighed.

"You expect me to wait until it's gone down for my turn to feel that?" Aemond sneered.

"You don't have a choice," Daemon laughed, "you'll hurt her if you try to get her off now. You'll just have to find some patience."

The only instinct stronger than the need to breed was to protect you, and so Aemond snarled as he guided your hand to his aching cock once more as he waited his turn. You felt complete relief, for the first time since the headache began, as you felt Daemon's knot inside you. You didn't feel the same as you had before, though: you felt… better? In a sense. You felt complete. You felt accomplished, useful… needed.

Aemond groaned against your skin as he fucked your fist, kissing along your shoulder and collarbone. "Such a good omega— you'll take me next, won't you? You can satisfy us both, yes?"

"Yes, Alpha— anything, I'll do whatever I can," you promised, addicted already to how rewarding it felt to be good for them. They both smiled proudly.

"You used to be so stubborn," Daemon remembered. "So much changes when you present, doesn't it? Believe it or not, I was rather level-headed before I presented as an Alpha."

"I'll go with 'not'," Aemond decided.

Daemon didn’t notice or mind much what Aemond had said, too focused on looking down at where your leaking cunt managed to fit his knot— he was still amazed by it. He’d spent his whole life pulling out enough to keep the knot outside when he came (that is, when he could manage to finish at all), even though at times it took all his willpower to fight that instinct. It felt perfect to be inside you now— perfect in a way he’d never allowed himself to imagine before.

Aemond’s patience was well past worn; he forced your hand to wrap tightly around his aching cock, fucking your hand as he kissed you hard and whined against your lips. “Omega,” he panted, “even your hand is so divine— but I need to be inside you, I need to breed and fill you, please—”

“Not much longer,” Daemon promised, though he was clearly irritated. “It takes time, nephew.”

You could tell Aemond wanted to say something particularly catty in that moment— probably something about how it was impressive that Daemon could keep his knot at all at his age— but only a groan fell from his mouth as you squeezed his cock a little tighter. He guided your hand lower to rub gently over his balls, and you realised how desperate he really was when you felt how swollen they’d become, how tender they were as you barely touched them and he hissed in a breath. “Fuck,” he panted, “all that come will be inside you soon— I know how badly you need it, omega, to be bred by your uncle.”

You whimpered but nodded in agreement, letting him move your hand just how he liked so you could keep his hunger at bay.

As for you, the knot inside you brought you mostly back to reality— but a needy, desperate Alpha beside you kept your omega instincts in control even as some logical thought returned to your mind. That logic made you want to ask them a thousand questions, about what you were and what this all meant and what this would mean for your family… but you couldn’t, because Aemond never stopped kissing you long enough to let you speak. Not that you were exactly fighting to get a word in: you loved the way he kissed you, so you just melted into it and let him go on tasting your mouth while he stroked himself with your hand.

You couldn’t say how long it was before Daemon broke his silence, but however long it was, it went by quickly— for you. For Aemond, it was like a lifetime. “It’s small enough now,” Daemon decided. “You can finally have your turn, nephew— but I know you’ll miss me, little omega, when this pathetic boy is on top of you.”

“Gods, just hurry up,” Aemond choked, and Daemon sighed as he held your hips and unsheathed himself from you. The knot wasn't completely subsided, but it had shrunk significantly— enough for him to hiss as he carefully slid it out. You whimpered as the bulge of it tugged on your sore walls, and made a stinging pain hit your opening as it passed through. But, finally, you were empty… for a split second. Aemond wasted no time getting on top of you and guiding his leaking cock to your hole; he plunged in all at once, making you wince and yelp as you held onto his shoulders, but he ignored the pain he was inflicting and started to move already— he just couldn’t stop himself.

The sting was worth it, though, to hear his loud, satisfied moans; his voice was rougher and deeper than you’d ever heard it, filled with awe as he watched your body take him fully with every thrust. He wasn’t moving very quickly yet— faster than you were ready for, yes, but still savouring the feeling of you for himself.

“I hope she’s not too stretched out from my knot,” Daemon chuckled, obviously not genuine— he hoped his nephew could feel the difference, so he was silently disappointed when Aemond shook his head.

“She feels just as before,” Aemond breathed, “just as tight and warm— just as perfect, fuck, she really was made for this. I would never have taken another woman if I knew this was waiting for me— if I knew I could have an omega to breed someday.”

“I was under the impression you hadn’t taken other women,” Daemon laughed, “you certainly fuck like a virgin.”

“You ramble like a drunk,” Aemond sneered in reply, losing any interest in verbally sparring with his uncle as he started to move just a bit faster inside you. "Beautiful," he sighed as he leaned down, holding you close, kissing your tears away as he fucked your sore cunt as gently as he could manage. "So beautiful, my omega— you take me so well, even when it hurts you… you take your Alpha so well."

His praise made it all worth it, and soon enough the soreness was forgotten— as was his attempting to be careful with you; within a few minutes he was holding you tight and fucking into you ruthlessly, panting beside your face while he slammed his cock into the very end of your insides. Even still, even after hours of your Alphas taking turns with you, your body never stopped leaking slick for them, until Aemond was soaked in your heat— his cock, balls, thighs, even dripping down to the bed beneath you…

“It won’t be much longer now,” he warned. “You’ll be bred— my child in you, sweet girl, is that what you want? All that ache’s going to go away, once you’re good and pregnant, like you were meant to be.”

It sounded like everything you’d ever wanted; it called to your most primal desires and made pleasure course through your veins until your skin was alight with ecstasy. "Please, Alpha!" you sobbed, holding onto him tightly. "I want your knot! I want your baby…"

"Fuck," Aemond gasped, baring his neck to you as he thrusted faster, faster, faster— you were afraid you would go numb inside from the friction, heat building until it all collapsed; you twitched and jolted from the orgasm overtaking you, just as Aemond’s knot began to swell. You felt it, like you had with Daemon: the warm come flooding inside your spent cunt, and your eyes rolled back as you went limp. It hurt to take another knot, yes, but you were too exhausted to even react. You were too exhausted to even think, even though you had much to think about: like the fact that your uncle and stepfather had just claimed and taken you, bred you, both of them fully intending to have you with child soon. They’d have no way to tell whose child it was, would that even matter? Would your mother stay married to Daemon— would either of them, or both, take you as their wife? What would you say when, inevitably, questions arose?

None of those questions seemed to matter now… all you could think of was the man above you and inside you, the perfect expression of relief on his face as his knot kept growing inside you.

"O-oh," he choked, tightening his fist beside your head, "it feels so…"

"I know," Daemon smirked proudly. "It's unlike anything else, isn't it?"

Aemond nodded weakly, still trying to catch his breath. "Omega… our perfect omega…"

Daemon leaned down to join in on the praise, petting your head as you let your heavy eyes fall shut. "You did so well for us both," he whispered to you. "You may rest now— you did beautifully, now rest…"

You weren’t able to drift to sleep until they were both holding you; Aemond still inside and surrounding you while Daemon gently lifted you to cradle you from behind, with his chest to your back. You should’ve felt confused, maybe guilty, maybe even disgusted as you reckoned with what you had done— what had been done to you. Instead, you only felt at peace, safe and satisfied. You were blessed with a gentle and dreamless sleep as your Alphas held you, still whispering to you sometimes— still discussing softly with each other what they would do next. From now on, you could leave the thinking and worrying to them, and just fulfil your natural purpose. It sounded nice, actually: lots of pure Targaryen babies, yours and Aemond’s and Daemon’s children, a strange but beautiful family.

For something you couldn’t have even imagined this morning, it seemed so obvious to you now… obvious, and sort of inevitable. Not that you minded; you were happy to be theirs.

#daemon targeryen x reader #daemon targaryen smut #daemon targaryen x you #daemon targaryen x female reader #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fic #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #hotd fic

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writingwithcolor · 2 years

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Thanksgiving/Day of Mourning

Last year, I made a very quick, basic post about thanksgiving: Indigenous Day of Mourning aka Thanksgiving. if you want the sources for what I’m about to say, check there.

This post will be about why you cannot just go “fuck the pilgrims, we deserve a harvest festival no matter the origin” or anything else that tries to sanitize the holiday.

You Are Still On Stolen Land

As a result, you are still actively profiting off the genocide the pilgrims committed.

I don’t care how educated about racial issues you profess you are. I don’t care how you behave the other 364 days of the year. If you try to distance yourself from the origins of Thanksgiving simply because it makes you uncomfortable to see the blood under the tablecloth, you’re not practised in sitting with actually being anti-racist. You know what to say, but you don’t practice what you preach.

You Are Eating Our Food

Pumpkins/squash, beans, turkey, cranberries, potatoes, corn, sweet potatoes, pecans, maple syrup?

Those are all Native American foods that we taught you how to grow and harvest.

You wouldn’t have any of your traditional Thanksgiving foods without us. The ideal meal of Thanksgiving is ripped right from Indigenous practices and cannot be separated from it.

The fact that these foods have been taken out of Indigenous hands and appropriated by colonizers as the bounties they somehow deserve for landing here is a tragedy, and people need to remember where their food comes from and who had been growing it for thousands of years.

You Had So Much Because Of Massacre

Thanksgiving became an annual tradition after 700 Pequot men, women, children, and elders were killed, freeing up acres of land that colonizers promptly took over. The sheer amount of extra acreage that colonizers had because of their genocide contributed to the excess of food experienced during Thanksgiving. That land had been structured to support more people originally.

Colonizers had never, ever, deserved that much food. They were taking more than they needed, not leaving much behind for the animals that depended on a balance to be held with humans. They took far more than was needed, throwing the balance off in nature.

Maybe I’m reaching. But I think that if you suddenly had 700 less people in the area, after all of the growing and planting for the total population had been done, you’d have excess food? Or even before the growing, you’d have land set up to support 700, that I’d assume you’d still use, when you were a much smaller population?

Sit With Your Own Grief

If this makes you feel bad and that you shouldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving? Sit with that.

I’m not telling you that you have to give up Thanksgiving traditions. I’m telling you that you cannot divorce them from Indigenous people.

You are giving thanks for our massacre. You are giving thanks for stealing so much from us that you had this excess.

Yes, you can need a break; yes, you can need time with family and friends. None of this is inherently bad.

It’s not even bad to eat local food from Turtle Island! Part of having a sustainable diet is eating locally, in time with the seasons.

But remember, it is Indigenous people who first gave this to you—and then you stole far more than you ever needed from us, killing us to get what you felt you deserved.

Do not divorce Thanksgiving from Indigenous people for your own comfort.

We are still here. We must live with the aftermath of colonizers stealing from us every single day.

If you feel this way hearing about our history, imagine what we feel like living it.

Donate to a local org/Indigenous person this Thanksgiving

I (again) don’t have the spoons to compile a list of vetted charities, but look for local tribe language revival programs, COVID relief funds, and activism around the Indian Child Welfare Act currently in front of the Supreme Court.

Pay reparations for what you have taken, and remember. It is also Indigenous Day of Mourning.

Indigenous people, drop your links below.

~Lesya

#thanksgiving #native american #Holidays #ally #Indigenous day of mourning #genocide #cultural appropriation

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years

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Oral Support - Ghost x Reader [M]

Summary: A disastrous brush with auto-correct leads you down a path you had only ever dreamed of walking.

Notes: 18+, Implications of smut, actual smut, graphic descriptions of smut, no use of pronouns for Reader except for ‘you’, fluffy towards the end of both parts (separated by - ), Reader over-thinks (don’t we all?), oral (male receiving), a bit of angst at the beginning of part 2 (Parts 1 and 2 separated by the - ), mentions of pain, graphic description of smut, fluff at the end, (Y/N) is a little awkward at first, (Y/N) is inexperienced, (Y/N) also gets anxious, nervous knuckle cracking, pet name used.

Wordcount: 4,897 words

The fact that you’d managed to get as close to Ghost as you had was in itself miraculous. Well, ‘close’ being an exaggeration; immediate acquaintances, at the least. Friends, at the most. Regardless, it had come with its many obstacles.

Such as now, after your inquiry about Ghost’s day, which you’d hoped to be benign, which was met with a simple: Alright.

Oh god, the dreaded full stop.

Your heart spiked, your back was up. Your micro-analysis began.

He doesn’t usually end sentences with a full stop - he thinks they’re a waste of time. Is he mad at me? Did someone steal his phone and impersonate him? Is he okay?-

You heaved a sigh. Told yourself to calm down.

It’s fine, you’re fine, he’s fine. Stop over-thinking everything.

But alas, that is what we are all victims to when in the throws of a crush.

The word had crossed your mind every now and again, dancing between your synapses like a demon in a church. It made you cringe, made you feel juvenile. Inferior. But you couldn’t deny it. In spite of its childish connotations, it was what you were experiencing.

You had a crush on Ghost.

Absolutely ludicrous is what you’d called it when you were alone. Totally and unequivocally baseless. You hadn’t even seen his face, nor did you know his name. You just knew that you liked him. And you’d hoped that somehow, somewhen, he’d grow to tolerate you, too. And that hope was being steadily fed by Soap, who’d reassured you during your sleep-deprived, delirious ramblings (of which you remember little) that “Getting Ghost’s number is a good sign,” and that it meant he “at the very least acknowledges you.”

Better than nothing,you’d convinced yourself. Better to be acquaintances than strangers.

You knew not to press the issue. You knew when to stop. But you just wanted to make extra, doubly sure.

Positive?

You hoped he’d understood your message. Hoped it hadn’t been too vague. Your phone pinged. He always managed to get back to you quick enough, you’d noted - something Soap had brought to your attention, too.

Yeah.

Okay, you told yourself. Enough stress. Time for bed.

You were about to put your phone down. Just about to. Then, a brilliant idea flashed in your mind.

You opened the message board again and began typing.

I’m here for moral support if you want it

Perfect, you told yourself. Not pressuring him to open up but making yourself available to him. Brilliant.

You sent the message, put the phone away, and turned in.

But something crossed your mind just as sleep caught up with you. It was a nagging feeling, the same twinge of anxiety one gets when they wonder if they’ve locked their front door or taken their chicken out to defrost overnight.

It made you uncomfortable. You shifted, hoping a change of position would make it go away.

It didn’t.

You turned to lay on your back, huffed, and looked up at the ceiling, as if the answer lay there.

What is it? you asked yourself. What could it possibly be?

You ran through your day, brushing over everything you’d done, anything you may have missed. Right up until you turned over on your side and tried to get some sleep.

And then it came to you. An intrusive thought, a message from God, a monster lunging out from a closet. It held your heart in its icy grip. Sitting bolt upright, you tore your phone from your nightstand and opened your message board with Ghost.

I’m here for oral support if you want it

How?! you screamed within. How could I have misspelled-

Auto-correct. Of course.

Even worse, Ghost had read it and said nothing.

You were on damage control immediately, putting all PR managers everywhere to shame.

*moral support

I meant moral support.

The full stop and calmness with which you communicated belied the storm that brewed in your mind. You tried to counteract it, asking yourself what the worst he could think or do was. That made it worse, your brain taking you down dark alleys and avenues of a lonely future, forcing you to shake hands with your own doom.

Eyes bleary with sleep and panic, you scarcely noticed that Ghost had replied, the only indication being your phone vibrating.

You scoured the screen, breaking your anxious haze and analysing his message.

Is that offer revoked?

The image - the intrusive image- of the implication of Ghost’s message flashed behind your eyes, blinding you. Your phone dropped onto your covers.

You stifled a scream.

What do I do? you thought. Who do I call?

You considered your best friend, but that was’t an option. Asleep, most likely. It was 2 AM. Their answer wouldn’t come quick enough.

Okay, Y/N, you can do this! Channel the energy of someone who knows what they’re doing.

You began typing.

Not if you want it ;-)

You’d accidentally channeled the energy of someone who had a good track record of flirting. Or, at least, you hoped.

Ghost began typing. Your heart pounded.

I’ll be back in a few days. Be ready for me.

Your heart seized. You screamed.

It worked! It’d actually worked! Auto-correct and your aimless flirting had done it!

Then, the excitement snapped off, a twig from a tree. Realisation dawned on you.

You only had a few days to perfect your technique. Now you really did need to call your best friend. I’ll do it tomorrow, you told yourself, and resisting the urge to message Ghost a plethora of excited nonsense, you took a shaky breath and lowered your phone to your side.

Somewhere amongst your newfound, delighted anxiety lay excitement, the hope that this accident, this interaction, could lead to something more. You smiled widely, the scene of you and Ghost, unmasked, on a date playing behind your eyelids, a projection of the future.

For lack of a better term, Ghost had ghosted you. After your interaction days before, you’d seen (or heard) neither hide nor hair of him; not from the boys, and certainly not from Ghost himself. Thus, here you were, knee bouncing as you perched on the edge of your sofa, mind racing with the ever-looming threat of rejection.

Maybe he was joking, you thought. Maybe he saw it as a throwaway flirtation and nothing more, maybe- maybe-

You didn’t want to cry. You really, really didn’t want to, but there was something about the possibility, the mere indication, of rejection - silent rejection at that - that made you want to choke up and shed a tear.

Get over yourself, it’s not like you had a chance anyway.

A cruel smile crossed your face. Ah well, nothing ventured, nothing lost. Or gained.

With creaking knees, you stood, a shred of a laugh at your absurd attempts to impress Ghost slithering up your throat. The taste of mint slathered on your tongue reminded you of the nigh ritualistic self-care you’d inflicted on yourself these last few days. All just for him.

Sighing, you glanced about your spotless, soulless apartment, any indication of idiosyncrasy shoved under your bed or into the boiler cupboard. After inviting your friend round for a pity party - the same friend who had rigorously instructed you on blowjob etiquette - this place would sooner resemble the remains of a celebrity blowout than the quaint little apartment you called home.

You hummed, hoping the impromptu song would distract you from the growing desire to cry. Wallow, one might say.

A reality-piercing rapping at your door tore you from your train of thought. You jumped, almost throwing up your own skeleton. Your heart thudded in your chest, a steadily unsteady rhythm of anxiety coursing through you like acid.

Silence for a moment. Then: “(Y/N)?”

Your knees almost buckled beneath the weight of your incredulity. THe voice was low, raspy, distinctly British, the North-Western Manchester industrialism evident within it. Almost unbelievable.

Your chest erupted with razor-edged butterflies, nerves frying, heart thrumming, harp strings played by a manic god.

“Uh- y-yeah?” you called, peering round the living room door and down the hallway, the front door just in sight. You didn’t want to sound as if the voice was too familiar to you, just in case it wasn’t. In case it wasn’t Ghost.

“You gonna let me in or what?”

You didn’t move for a second, and then moved all at once. “‘Course, coming!” Your voice wavered as you hurried down the hall and to the door. Reaching it, you breathed deeply, quietly, aware of how thin the walls were, straightened out your shirt, and unlocked the door.

And there he stood.

Very little light made it past him, his hulking form taking up all the room that the doorway could spare him, broad and unrelenting. His mask made him appear as a reaper, eyes dark as the rest of his attire. With him he carried a canvas bag. You swallowed thickly.

“H-ey,” you said lightly, voice strained, cracking. You coughed, tried again. “Hey,” you repeated, normally, this time, and leaned against the doorframe. Ghost only looked down at you, emotions and intentions unknown.

Well, mostly unknown. No doubt the message - the silent promise - you’d given him flashed in his mind as it flashed in yours, weaving itself into the fabric of your psychology as any tangible crush did.

“Did it take you long to get here?” Small talk. Well done, (Y/N). You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to hide the hammering of your heart, making the fabric of your shirt jump as it thudded against your chest.

“Depends.” was all Ghost said. He peered over your shoulder. “You alone?” The question made something in you stir. The implication sat heavy in your stomach. It promised something, wanting to crack and bloom. You nodded, not trusting your voice, fighting the smile blistering onto your lips.“Right, then.” Ghost rasped. He looked at you. You looked at him. You both waited for the other to do something. You realised it was your turn.“Oh!” you exclaimed, folding out of Ghost’s path. “Come in, make yourself comfortable-”

Ghost breezed past you, not one for formalities. You swallowed and shut the door behind him. You begged and pleaded with any deity available that you hadn’t already annoyed him.He found the living room and placed his bag down, its contents heavy, evidenced by the thunk it made as it hit the carpet. He shed his gloves soon after, throwing them atop the bag.

You followed behind, squeezing your fingers, cracking your knuckles. Your breathing was shallow and you felt warm all over, the beginnings of sweat forming under your armpits.

Ghost looked around; you could only assume he was familiarising himself with the environment. You coughed and gestured to the sofa, at which point Ghost turned and looked back at you.

“Take a seat,” you said, more requested, actually. Ghost gave a light nod and sat down, making the sofa bow in the centre beneath his weight. He gave a sigh, shut his eyes, and said nothing. He seemed to be comfortable, and you wondered if he’d come straight here from his latest mission. My head game needs to be immaculate to justify him coming all the way from God-knows-where to my apartment, you panicked.

You had the idea of prolonging said demonstration of said head game by offering Ghost tea, a British favourite, which he declined. You offered him water, biscuits, an omelette, a pair of fluffy socks, a film; he declined them all.

“I’ll tell you what I do want, though,” Ghost rasped, looking at you with undivided attention.

You wanted to be sick. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to do this, you were simply mortified of the embarrassment that would come with not knowing how to walk the walk after talking the talk. You hoped you could buy yourself just a few more minutes to go over the needlessly explicit notes your friend had given you on this interaction.

You didn’t want to play dumb, nor did you mean to. You just wanted more time. “What?” you said, nigh shaking with uncertainty.

Ghost beckoned you and, with nowhere else to run, you came to him, standing just out of reach of his knees. He took your wrist and pulled you closer. “On your knees,” he said. His voice felt heavier, either because of the mask or…something else.

Your heart jumped up your throat. You swallowed it.

And now, on buckling legs, you lowered yourself to the floor, pants keeping your knees from being carpet-burned. You kept your breathing quiet, trying to deepen it. Your nerves were no less frazzled.

Ghost lifted his hips from the sofa and unbuckled his belt. He withdrew himself from his pants before you could comprehend or prepare yourself for what was happening.

“Woah!” you exclaimed. Then, you felt your heart and stomach sink. I did not just say that out loud, you begged. Oh my god, no, please.

Ghost’s head tilted as he continued looking down at you, holding his cock in his hand. Given how large the rest of him was, this shouldn’t have been surprising. Still, you were impressed; especially considering he was already half-hard. Something in you felt tight and hot.

“Woah?” he said. You could practically feel him raising an eyebrow beneath his mask. “That impressive, is it?”

You found yourself nodding. You were past the initial point of shame until you encountered the next; your own inexperience. Ghost let out a huff of air, likely a laugh or one of its diluted associates.

“Well, I’m honoured,” he said. There was jest in his tone, and for that you were grateful. You smiled, trying to combat the growing fear overtaking you. Not as honoured as I, you wanted to say, but it felt far too mediaeval and, dare you say, cringe, for this situation. You just nodded. Again

And here you were, staring at the dick of the man who had become the most recent and potent object of your affections. With absolutely no inclination as to what to do next. Your hands were folded in your lap. You squoze them together, trying to disperse some of your nervous energy.

With every second that passed you could feel Ghost’s eyes burning holes into you. You knew the bare basics, and that was all anyone could ask of you. Just put it in your mouth and get it over with, you thought. Though, not that you didn’t want to take your time; you would have loved to given that you knew how to make Ghost feel good. But right now, your main concern was trying not to destroy any semblance of respect Ghost may have accrued for you by giving the most terrible head of his life.

All while thinking this, you hadn’t moved, eyes glazed over. Ghost’s baritone came as a startling distraction.

“Somethin’ wrong?” he said. There was mild concern laced somewhere in his voice.

“Oh, no! Totally fine!” you said. Your voice cracked and you winced internally.

“You sure?”

You nodded, smiling through the anguish. “Yeah, yeah. It’s just…been a while since I’ve seen…” you didn’t want to make eye contact with it again; it felt wrong to do so without doing something to it.

“How long?” The rounded edges of his accent and refusal to pronounce a handful of letters felt oddly endearing to you in this moment. Or perhaps you were clutching at straws, anything else to pay attention to aside from the growing tension in the room.

“Uh…” you pretended to count how long ago your last encounter was, already knowing the answer. “About…I don’t know, doesn't matter - just a long time,” you smiled, your signature at the end of a disaster of a sentence.

Ghost said nothing. Did nothing. He leaned over, placing his elbows on his knees, and stared into you. His mask consumed your vision. You knew you couldn’t look anywhere else, frozen.

“(Y/N)...” he began, sighing lightly. “Do you actually wanna do this?”

“Yeah! I mean, I want to, I really want to! It’s just that…” You wanted to swallow your confession, hide it where nobody would ever find it. Ghost’s head tilted as he looked at you.

“But what?” he said. His voice held no urgency, no pressure, but something…sincere. Curiosity? Perhaps he wasn’t accustomed to dealing with your sort.“I…” You sighed. The jig was up. Time to come clean.

“I’ve never actually done this before.” You hammered the final nail in your coffin. “Ever.” Your gaze dropped and you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, to see his disappointment. You hid, pointing your face to the floor, your hands on your thighs. You heard Ghost shift.

“Well then, why didn’t you say so?” You felt a hand slide around the back of your head. You jumped, gaze snapping to meet Ghost’s. There was a glimmer in his eye. “I’ll guide you. Just keep your teeth out the way and suck.” His eyes were darker than they had been before. Even without the mask, you felt that he would look just the same.

You nodded, mouth ajar with shock. Ghost took full advantage by bringing your head down to his thighs and prying your mouth open with the tip of his cock. You jumped, he held you in place. You could feel how many hours he’d put into his strength by his firm grip in your hair; not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know that it could.

And that power made you warm and wet in places that typically couldn’t be provoked by real, physical men. The many figures and books you’d swept under both the proverbial and physical rug were evidence of this.

Taking in the bulbous tip, you recalled Ghost’s explicit instructions to keep your teeth out of the way and all but unhinged your jaw, trying to accommodate the first of many inches. With the restraint of a god, Ghost only watched, waiting for you to accustom yourself to his girth before continuing.

“Y’alright, Precious?” he said, squeezing your hair, prompting an answer. You hummed around him, making his eyes twitch and the rest of him harden. “Now,” he breathed, “be good for me. Keep goin’,”

You couldn’t nod, you couldn’t do anything aside from what he’d instructed you. And so, you descended. You inhaled another inch or two, swallowing when you felt your saliva collecting in your mouth. As soon as you did, Ghost jutted by a fraction. You decided to try something you remembered teaching yourself.

Your tongue gingerly danced along the edge of his shaft, trying to find the tip before it was too far down the back of your throat even for light to reach it. Ghost gave a light groan as your tongue glossed over the veins of his cock, stopping only upon feeling a dip in the head. Then, with little mercy or idea of what would happen, you stroked it with your tongue, continually, back and forth, in a sustainable rhythm that eased you into a comfortable monotony.

You closed your eyes, mapping out his member in your mind’s eye, a new, salt-like taste slick on your tongue as you went. Ghost’s light groaning turned into a deeper grunt, making your stomach feel tight. You recognised this new taste as pre-cum, something you’d thought was a myth until just now.

It excited you to think that you were the one making Ghost feel this way. You hazarded a glance at said man, and upon doing so, found him looking down at you through heavy eyes. You felt seen, and suddenly very naked. No, exposed. You resisted the flight response to withdraw.

Ghost’s hand rested on the back of your head, and, ever so slightly, you felt him pushing on it. “Go on,” he said through deepening breaths. “Take more of me.”

You obeyed, and, swallowing the collection of pre-cum and saliva collecting in your maw, urged yourself to take another inch or two. You gagged, the tip almost hitting the back of your throat. You could feel it practically grazing the soft, wet skin of your throat.

“S’alright, take your time,” he said, his chest appearing to rise and bay like the tide, deep and consistent.

You took a moment to familiarise yourself, to acquaint yourself with his size, before resuming. You knew you couldn’t take much more at this rate, and you didn’t want to open your eyes to see how much was left of him. Though, judging by the warmth radiating against your face and the tickling sensation of hair against your nose, you figured not too much more.

Your previous anxieties had washed away with Ghost’s soft guidance, leaving you to enjoy the sound of ghost’s groan-laced breaths and the barely restrained juts of his hips as his body urged you to take more.

You began bobbing your head, withdrawing your mouth before impaling it back onto Ghost’s length, all the while his breaths became more laboured, laced with groans and an odd moan. Your hands came to rest atop his knees, holding onto him. You yourself felt a wetness developing between your legs, though you tried not to think about it. A tightness formed in your core, jolting you with flashes of rapture.

You sucked hard, coaxing a faint ‘Ah' from Ghost, followed by the purr in his chest. Guttural groans.

You felt the sheer weight of Ghost’s dick on your tongue, making your jaw begin to ache. You tried to push this aside, too, opting instead to focus entirely on making sure Ghost finished. You’d read enough fanfiction to be able to tell when that would happen.

Whenever you swallowed around his cock, you heard a strangled noise escape him, not yet a moan, but the promising beginnings of one. It was deep, gruff. You wondered if Ghost made noises like this while getting himself off. The thought sent another jolt between your legs.

The sound of your collective breathing and you guzzling your own pre-cum-laced saliva made the room feel smaller, encasing you both in your own story, one which you hoped had a happy ending.

“Fuck me,” he breathed as your tongue caught a particularly prominent vein, “you sure you’ve never done this before?” He looked down at you through half-lidded, almost closed eyes. Hooded. You felt a smile coming on yet was physically incapable of expressing it. You hummed a response, pride swelling in your chest as you watched Ghost’s eyes screw shut at the feeling.

You wondered if he was close, and, judging by the shortening space between his breaths and the amount of pre-cum filling your mouth, you believed so. His grip in your hair tightened and you could feel him becoming more lost by the second as his restraint crumbled, leading to his grip becoming somewhat painful.

You ignored it, instead trying to take the rest of him for the final stretch. You swallowed, then advanced, swallowing the last couple of inches. His tip hit the back of your throat and you gagged, trying to suppress the aching in your jaw and throat. Ghost hissed, his hips bucking once before he settled again. Your nose was pressed against the bottom of his stomach, dark, curly hairs tickling your nose.

You sucked him, felt him, your tongue trying to coat every inch of him in your saliva, the fire in your lower half burning brighter than ever. Your mind wandered to what it would feel like to be filled by him, encouraging you to go faster. Harder. You moved at a pace you thought was beyond your capacity, lips burning from the friction of sliding across the length of Ghost’s glossed cock.

“Just like that,” he breathed, just about capable of forming a cohesive thought, never mind a sentence.Something in your intuition told you he was close. Or perhaps it was in the way his groans had turned into deep, baritone moans and barely-comprehensible curses. You sucked harder.

“Keep goin’,” he said, breathless, “‘m nearly there,”

With a final push, running your tongue along a sensitive vein and swallowing, throat contracting around his tip, he came. Hard. He let out a mask-muffled moan, short yet harsh and potent, tailing off into a symphony of heavy breaths and groans. The sound made your core hot and tight, radiating tension and the promise of euphoria.

His hand fused with your hair, gripping it tight enough to make you wince. Thick ropes of warm cum filled your mouth and throat, forcing you to withdraw as it went down the wrong way. You kept your mouth closed when you coughed, unsure of what to do with Ghost’s semen. It felt far too precious to spit out, yet you were unsure as to whether you were permitted to swallow. You watched Ghost collect his thoughts, his hold on your head loosening. He ran his fingers through where he’d held you, soothing you. Apologising for how rough he’d been.

His eyes opened, and he looked at you. You could see them widen fractionally as he spotted your cum-filled cheeks, waiting for his order.

“Fuckin’ hell.” he said, releasing a breath. Admiring his work. “Didn’t know you were waitin’ for me.”

You nodded, the taste of salt engulfing your tongue almost overwhelming. Ghost released the back of your head and deposited himself back into his pants, now having softened. He leaned down, just above eye level with you. “Swallow,” he ordered.

You did, and Ghost watched your throat bob. He gave a short hum and ran his thumb over the outline of your bottom lip. You leaned into his touch, his hand warm against your scorching skin.

You didn’t know how long you remained like that for, but it didn’t feel long enough. He withdrew, leaving you to feel cold without his immediate presence. Then, the reality of what you’d just done dawned on you. Your eyes widened, and you tried to keep your surprise to yourself.

You could scarcely believe that you’d actually - or rather, you and Ghost had - managed to do that without disappointing him. You only hoped it was as good for Ghost as he’d made it seem.

“Ghost,” you said, voice raspy and low, soft with inquisition. Ghost only hummed, leaning against the backrest of the sofa. “Did…” you swallowed, the slick remnants of him residing in crevices in your mouth. “Did I do well?” You almost wished you hadn’t asked, cringing at how desperate for confirmation you sounded. In your head, at least.

Ghost didn’t make it seem like that. He gave a slight nod.

“Very well,” he said, his emphasis reassuring you. You felt as if you could release the monstrous doubt accumulating on your shoulders. You gave a smile, plumping your flushed cheeks.

You both remained in slow silence, coming down from the excitement of what had just unfolded. Your gazes wandered the room, looking at nothing in particular. You wanted to maintain the tranquillity that had settled, but you felt another question burning in your lungs, desperate to be answered. You waited, then waited a little longer. Then, you asked.

“Ghost?” you said, your sore throat prickling, the ache in your knees becoming apparent to you. He looked to you. “Why did you come here?” Your question was genuine, and you didn’t want the skin-deep answer you knew was available to him; because I wanted a quick blow before I went home. You wanted him to look past that. His gaze was unintelligible.

“Why’d you invite me ‘ere?”

You blinked, then your honesty got the better of you. “Because…” You felt your face heating up again. You’ve literally just blown him, this should be a cake walk! “Because I...like you…?”

Ghost’s chest rumbled, likely a laugh.

“Well then, there’s your answer.”

Your heart wanted to soar, but the vagueness of his answer made you lust to ask just one more question.

“So…” you hoped your inquisitiveness (or density, as you might call it) was endearing, or at the least an excuse for your lack of abstract understanding. “Does this mean that you like me, too?” Your voice became more and more interrogative, phrasing the question in such a way that made it seem a mockery of itself, as if it were cosplaying its own function, exaggerated.

Ghost went quiet for a moment. “Honestly?” he said. You almost nodded before realising he was going to say more. “Yeah. I do.”

Okay, now your heart soared. You couldn’t fight the smile overtaking your features. Ghost noticed and made haste to try and revoke some of the joy he’d inflicted.

“Now don’t get all soppy on me,” he said, pointing a finger at you. “Else I’ll be forced to take drastic action.” Ignore you until you stop, is what your mind told you he’d do.

You tried to restrain your grin, but it remained. You could only reassure him verbally.

“No promises, Ghost,” you said, biting back the urge to laugh with joviality. Ghost shifted, his gaze becoming more intense. Serious.

“Call me Simon.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

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little-pondhead · 1 year

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Thinking about if Dani ever gets added to the Villain Everlasting Trio au, like how would she fit in? Obviously the JL would have to figure out she's a clone and try and figure out why she exists ("maybe fenton is just that narcissistic?" flash asks, meanwhile batman is already texts agent a to get ready another room in addition to the three already prepared). Maybe she acts like the innocent kid in danger until heroes get close? batfamily trying to pspspsps her away from fenton? The trio collectively calling her their daughter?

I love this au so much, even if I still don't fully forgive you for making Tucker hot.

The way I SPRINTED to my computer.

Disclaimer: This particular AU has nothing to do with Fun Sized and Feral by @nutcase8691 or my Dani Fenton redesign from a while ago. This isn’t really important, but I thought the plot of this au might be straying the tiniest bit too close to the Feral AU (which I love btw) and I just didn’t want to cause confusion.

TLDR: Dani had to mature too quickly in their home world, so when she arrived in the DC universe, she finally got to slow down and be a kid. :)

Okay okay. Give me a moment. Since everyone is acting like the opposite of their usual self when they're playing villains, your question was, how would she fit in? To backtrack to this earlier post, I said that each of the trio's specific gimmicks somehow ties into their everyday lives. They looked at their immediate friends, family and acquaintances, picked out the traits they saw as 'villainous,' and then applied that to themselves.

Danny became a mad scientist because even though his parents love him through and through, they still hurt him the most. The threat of capture and dissection from the GIW didn't help, either. He wears a suit similar to his parents, pushes his hair up so he can see better, and his white lab coat looks a little like the GIW's suits. The suit is also red, which is the opposite of green, distancing himself further from his hero life as Phantom and connecting him more to his civilian self, where red is present on his shirt. He refuses to use his powers, as well.

Sam looks like an angel, which seems odd given her completely goth look and slightly pessimistic attitude. And if she uses her plant powers (shut up, she totally has them) as part of Team Phantom, then that rules out using them as a villain. They want to completely separate these alter-egos from each other. Well, one of the most significant sources of strife in Sam's personal life is her parents. In the show, they're seen constantly fighting with Sam, trying to mold her into their perfect daughter, when Sam is very obviously happy with how she is right now. So as a silent fuck you to her parents, Sam gets a hold of a Realm artifact, the halo, which gives her a pair of ghostly wings and the ability of flight. Now, she's the one in the air, and Sam is still doing what she does best, even as an angel. She tries to show the world that not all angels are perfect, and in fact, they can be downright monstrous. (This is where her more aggressive and destructive attitude comes in.)

As far as I'm aware, Tucker doesn't have any trauma related to his parents. (The lucky bastard.) He is the tech-nerd stereotype, however. And since he's from a cartoon from 2004, that means he gets bullied. A lot. The show focuses mainly on Danny, but you cannot tell me Tucker wasn't bullied like that, either. For the sake of the au, let's say Danny was taking all the beatings for Tucker. Maybe he was in canon; I can't remember. But not only is Tucker being physically bullied but so is his best friend. (Eventually lover!) And imagine his feelings when Team Phantom shows up to a ghost fight, and Tucker is absolutely useless the entire time. He just can't help at all. Danny and Sam are on the front lines, redirecting hits and doing damage control, and here he is, waiting for the Wi-Fi to catch up on his PDA. It eats him up. He wants to be helpful in more ways than one, and that's what the DC universe gives him. He takes another Realm artifact; this time, it's actually his by birthright, and the artifact drastically increases his physical power, just like he's always wanted. He learns Egyptian magic and dresses in a way that gives homage to his time in Egypt-which was traumatizing by itself, but hey, he has sweet beetle magic now.

Basically, Fenton, Manson, and Foley are all the results of the trio's frustrations and fears. They become the things they stress about the most to help cope with their everyday lives. The DC universe is their outlet.

So where does Dani fit in?

Well, Dani is a clone, as we know. Her creation and introduction to the world were rather sudden if you compare her to a typical baby. And that's what she is; a baby. Unless you jumped the timeline far into the future, Dani is barely a year old in canon (I think.) And after her team-up with Danny to defeat Vlad, she makes the decision to leave Amity and travels the world. She has to navigate an entire world independently, even if Danny wants to help her. So now, plop her in the DC verse. What's the opposite of an independent clone who's had to fend for herself from a very young age and has had almost no real familial bonds?

A kid. A scared, touched-starved child who's had no one to look after her for who knows how long. (Vlad doesn't count here.) Dani gets to the DC verse and cries because she and Danny can finally bond like she always wanted to. She doesn't have to put up a strong front because the trio is there to protect her. Dani is extremely young, and now she can finally be a kid. It's not mental age regression; instead, Dani no longer has to hold herself back from doing childish things or crying. Both are things that could be a danger when you're living on the streets. She spends almost all her time here now.

The Everlasting Trio had already missed her before, but they had just fully adopted her in this new world. Dani is their baby. Their little girl. She didn't ask to be born-she shouldn't have to suffer because it was unsafe at home. Well, they can make a new one, just for her, here in this universe. And look! There’s more clones for her to bond with! The GZ is more accessible than ever, and their commute between universes really isn’t that bad. They like it here! And the heroes and villains will never take her away, no matter how hard they try. Sure, Dani can have playdates with some of them, but she will wail and scream if anyone so much as suggests she stay the night without her parent's permission.

Oh, and she never stops being a little shit. If anyone doubts that Fenton and Dani are related, they are simply ushered online to see that one viral clip of Dani latching on to King Shark with her teeth and not letting go in the middle of a shopping plaza. The camera pans to the left a moment later, and the audience spots Fenton doing the exact same thing to John Constantine.

The first time the Justice League meets Dani, it's right after she got lost during a spacewalk with Danny and Sam. She enters the first place she sees, the Watchtower, and breaks down in front of Wonder Woman about how she can't find her parents and doesn't know how to get home. The heroes are baffled and try to comfort her until Danny comes barging in five minutes later, panicking over his baby girl missing. They reunite, the heroes are reeling, and Superman mentions he didn't think Fenton was old enough to have a kid.

Fenton looks up from his bear hug and goes: "Huh? Oh, no. I'm only seventeen. (work with me here) Dani is technically my clone, but we adopted her properly as soon as possible."

And now the League has two issues. Their most annoying enemy is only seventeen. And he has a clone.

What the f u c k.

Extra analysis: Dani's outfit is cleaner and a little fancier than what she wore in the show. She ties her hair up like Tucker and pins her bangs back like Sam. She already looks identical to Danny but likes to wear his sweaters, especially in cold weather. The oversized clothes remind her of her time with Danny in Amity Park, and helps hide her physique better, so it's hard to tell how old she is. She wears leggings to show that she no longer has to fight for her life every day on the streets. Now that the trio adopted her, she can relax and let someone else take the hits for a while. (We all know how fast leggings and tights can be ruined when doing literally anything.) Fright Knight gifts her a cursed doll that helps protect her in stressful situations and functions like an SOS beacon. JLD hates the bear. (She named it Strawbeary.)

She acts on her impulses more often, which the trio sees as a good thing. Even if that impulsive desire gets her in trouble, it gives everyone a chance to learn and grow as a family. Dani also refrains from going ghost at first, following her dad's wishes. Right now, she's just giving herself a break from her previous nomadic lifestyle. After a bit, she and Danny will bond over their halfa status, and she'll grow into her own unique core and powerset. The heroes dread the day the littlest Fenton decides to join her parents in their shenanigans.

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amourdivine · 8 months

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𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃 🦢 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄?

Hello, lovelies! I hope you're doing well. I bring you another romance topic today, found from the vault, forgotten in my Google Docs folder! Let me know how it resonates. If you liked this reading, please consider booking a paid reading or tipping me at @ [email protected]! xo. ♡

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how to choose your pile. take deep breaths for a few minutes & look at each and every one of the piles separately. see which one brings you to a feeling, a place or a memory. take your time and feel free to come back to it later.

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disclaimer. this is a general reading for entertainment purposes. tarot is a divination tool & is not a substitute for medical and professional advice, nor is it meant to be taken as such. i do not take responsibility for any choice(s) made by you or others regarding my readings.

PILE 01. 🕊️

who is this person? page of wands, the sun rx, seven of pentacles rx.

This person is very, very impatient. They tend to be more immature and on the feistier side, I definitely think they’re an extrovert or someone with Leo, Sagittarius or Aries in their big three. They might rush into things and have a bit of a self-sabotaging energy to them. Honestly, I think this person underestimates themselves and act out of passion and desire, so they’re not the most careful in love. They tend to be pessimistic because they wonder why their relationships go wrong, but they can rush into situations before they’re even ready and not always be willing to put the effort and time required for things to develop. Since they’re also being represented by the Page of Wands, you might question their feelings and motives towards you because they might seem fickle, even a bit childish for some of you. They have a lot of young energy, it could be in age or simply in their nature. By the way, this is definitely a new person, not someone from your past. I’m also getting more of a masculine vibe, but it doesn’t necessarily correlate to any specific gender.

how are they truly feeling? six of pentacles, two of wands, the sun.

They see a lot of potential in your relationship with them. Like I said, this person tends to rush into things, so they aren’t super in their feelings about it, but they’re feeling very positive and they’re already wanting to make a move. This person could simply have a crush on you at first, since I don’t get any deeper feelings involved here. However, this person enjoys your presence a lot! You might have started out as friends and they love being in your presence, it turns their frown upside down. Since we also got The Sun card in the last question but in reverse, I think you make them feel more positive, happier and lighter in general. They are imagining a lot of things in their head for your future, but they feel that this connection is balanced and it could go somewhere much better than where it’s at. That’s also why they’re rushing, because they don’t want to waste any time.

what are the circumstances regarding this confession? ten of swords rx, king of wands rx, two of cups.

They’re resisting these feelings. This person might be exhausted of all their thinking and imagining before they confess to you - they can’t wait any longer. They’re going to feel restricted and that’s why they’ll take action, so they’ll be super impulsive towards you. It might come out of the blue, at a totally random moment and it could shock you, but they’ll want to make sure to make it up to you later somehow. Maybe they’ll be venting to you and at one point they might kiss you recklessly or send a risky text. They’ll probably invite you to a date (especially dinner date) later on so that they can show you they’re interested and it’s not something that they told you just for the sake of it. They might be naturally flirty towards others, which is also why they’ll want to take you out, so you know that their feelings are romantic indeed, even if they’re at a very initial stage. They’ll be very, very nervous and fidgety (lol), might also stutter a bit and seem kind of random towards you. Honestly, there’s a lot of passion and you’ll seem even more attractive in their eyes. I can’t help but feel that they’ll try and plan everything out, only to be super hasty and clumsy with their confession (aw).

additional messages: summer breeze, “easy like sunday morning,” frat party, college roommates, sapphic/wlw, silk chiffon by muna & phoebe bridgers, 6:66, 222, light blue, hazy, champagne bubbles.

PILE 02. 🐇

who is this person? five of swords, the lovers, knight of cups.

This is someone whom you might have had a disagreement with. The intensity of this confrontation likely wasn’t anything light, so you could’ve had a falling out of sorts. They have a lot of air and Gemini energy, so there’s a duality to them that can be confusing and contradicting to you, because of their sharp wit and their spontaneous nature. This person seems like a lot! Not in a bad way, but they have a very proud and stubborn personality as well. With the Knight of Cups, this is someone who had and still has romantic feelings for you, whether you’ve known it or not. Even if you didn’t have any romantic involvement with this person, they nurse something very romantic and dreamy for you. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if this was an ex of yours, someone whom you were in a relationship with and ended things very badly. However, they’re not over you and no matter how difficult this situation must’ve been, they still love you very much.

how are they truly feeling? five of pentacles, nine of pentacles rx, strength.

It’s surprising to me that this Strength card came out upright, because they’re not actually feeling strong at all. This person might be putting up a front, honestly. They could have some significant Leo placements and they might have turned this thing into a competition of “who cares less.” Which is immature, of course, but they feel left out in the cold, like all the future they had with you was lost. Even if they’re determined to make it back to you somehow, they feel that all of their chances and options were wasted and in vain. However, since we’re talking about their feelings, I don’t think it’s true that there are no options left here. They could be stuck in a self pitying mentality and that’s also what’s making them so miserable, even if they want to make things right again so badly. This person could type it out their feelings in a billion unsent texts and still be too proud to make a move.

what are the circumstances regarding this confession? judgement, eight of wands rx, wheel of fortune rx.

Enough time will have passed you by and the dust will have settled. They’ll make this choice because I can almost hear them saying to themselves “enough is enough.” Things will feel stagnant and for some of you, you might have even forgotten or let go of this person after this time of silence. They’re going to make this call after a very long time because they’ll realize that they’ve wasted too much time agonizing over these feelings and their pain instead of solving it. I pulled another card for clarification and got the Knight of Cups again, so they’ll probably realize they’re still not over you and that’s something they need to get off their chest. Honestly, I think they’ll be much more humble and loving the next time you speak to them, not only because they want to tell you how they truly feel and show their vulnerable side, but also because they don’t really expect much out of you. They could feel that they’re out of luck and out of chances to be with you, so you’ll have to be really clear about your feelings with this person, pile two, because they’re very fearful, but they’re pouring their heart out into this confession because it’ll be anything but easy to them. Also, the Universe might have nudged them a little to make this call.

additional messages: broken strings by james morrison & nelly furtado, “i know i was wrong but i regret it now,” “i’ve been a fool,” leo, sagittarius, capricorn, gemini, “i regret what i said,” “our fight was really triggering,” sorry by justin bieber, 888, 999, 10:10, february, aquarius mars.

PILE 03. 🐻‍❄️

who is this person? the tower, two of swords, six of pentacles.

This is someone who’s been through a lot, pile three. I think they can come across as insecure or even indecisive. They may be hard to read or someone who isn’t quite your type, but since they’re your next/first partner, it’ll be a welcomed surprise. They may struggle with making decisions, especially when it comes to confessing their feelings for you, because they might’ve been through a lot of difficult moments - like I said, this Tower also makes me wonder if they’re resisting some sort of change or feeling towards you because of their own fears. However, they try their best to be balanced. I think they’re very generous, very giving and caring towards people, but they may be harsh on themselves at times. This person could be a Libra, a Taurus or a Capricorn. I feel like they’re quite stubborn and they don’t actually like to take many risks. Perhaps being in love with you is something they found quite shocking, so it might take them some time to understand it.

how are they truly feeling? king of swords, queen of cups, the hanged one.

So, I think after meditating on it for a little while, they’ll eventually evolve into a more mature, self-assured and calm energy. It may take them a while, as I said, but they’ll want to do this the right way, looking very steady and confident. This King of Swords is very logical and quite upfront, but they may be hiding their softer and more emotional side by the time they come forward. I think that the moment they confess to you, it won’t sound very emotional, but they’ll definitely be hiding this Queen of Cups underneath the King of Swords. The Hanged Man makes me think they’ll be patient with you, instead of demanding an answer right away, this person will want you to think about it, to really ponder over how you feel as well. But it also gives me the energy of someone who’s done enough contemplation over their feelings, hence why this King of Swords will come on strongly. They may seem more confident than what they actually feel, perhaps colder than intended, but they do have very strong feelings, they just don’t want to come off as too vulnerable or too emotional by the time they come clean about this.

what are the circumstances regarding this confession? page of pentacles, the high priestess, six of swords.

There’s some healing coming from this person’s end. I cannot help but wonder if this person is someone you study or work with, but in whichever case, their offer will be something small, but significant to them. It may not be a “full blown date”, like something super luxurious, but they may offer to grab a cup of coffee with you to talk about these feelings. Something more subtle rather than super out there. Even the High Priestess itself has a more lowkey energy, so it’s possible they’ll try to do it in a more private or secluded space. I think this person will want to have a more quiet one on one with you, so it doesn’t seem like it’ll be a grand gesture. You likely won’t see this coming, so by the time they confess, you’ll have to use your intuition in order to see through that King of Swords energy I mentioned. They truly just want to let you know - I don’t think they have any high expectations over this, because the Six of Swords here gives me the idea that they’ll want to heal and move forward in case you reject them. With or without you, they’ll want to embark on a healing journey and keep going either way. They might feel a sense of relief or calm afterwards, like they have finally let these feelings and secret thoughts of you out. It’s going to be something very revealing for the both of you, something which will help them progress, whether this connection progresses or not. Of course, since this is your next partner, it’ll help the both of you move forward with your relationship and develop something from there.

additional messages: libra/7th house stellium, “i’ve made up my mind”, throw it on the fire by jon mclaughlin, “my life without you is just time”, somewhere only we know by keane, “i just want to know how you feel,” “take your time.”

PILE 04. 🦢

who is this person? nine of swords, ten of wands, judgment.

I think this is someone who is always looking for “the light at the end of the tunnel.” It’s worth mentioning I am using the Vice Versa deck for your pile, so the imagery here is a little different than the original A.E. Waite deck. They’re likely a very hardworking and fierce person, but they’re also afraid of relying on others and asking for help. A little too proud, maybe? They could be an Aries or a Leo, but I’m more specifically getting Leo from this person. They’ve been through a lot, but still, they feel like life keeps throwing curveballs at them. Honestly, this person may suffer from burnout by the time you meet them, they may be a workaholic or someone very ambitious who wants to carve their own path in life. They may have had to start all over many times and have had a hard time finding their true calling in life, but they’ve begun to overcome these issues. This person can be very stubborn as well, maybe they don’t like hearing advice or asking for it somehow. I think you’ll recognize them by the way they try to tackle everything on their own and are a bit too proud to admit when something isn’t working or when they’re in the wrong, but they do mean well.

how are they truly feeling? three of cups, knight of cups, the emperor.

They might be friends with you, but the feelings are too strong for them to deny it. However, with The Emperor, it kind of confirms the fire energy for me, especially Aries as well. So they’re a little bit ashamed of how soft they truly feel for you. It’s interesting because despite wanting to look and feel in power, they just want to give you the world, even if you might reject them. This person is hopeful, though. They’ll want to look very confident and may even show off a little bit, but they want to impress you and that’s also why this Emperor is coming through. They can (and want to) give you everything you want, to be the kind of partner who honors you, someone you’re proud of. They’ve got great intentions, even though they’re not very good at communicating or explaining their feelings, they may have a little bit of a “rough edge” to them or have a very, very rational and inflexible approach about the way they feel. It’s almost like they’ll try to be very self-controlled and tough not to seem vulnerable, but deep down, these feelings are very real and they truly cherish your company. Again, I think this person will be friends with you - or at least try to remain friends before moving forward with their confession.

what are the circumstances regarding this confession? the star, queen of pentacles, two of pentacles.

They’re very hopeful! They may want to take you out somewhere fancy, give you the best of the best treatment and make you feel like a royal by their side. You may even find them to be a bit foolish? They’ll be so eager to please you, honestly. I even feel like the man in this Two of Pentacles card is juggling all things at once so he looks impressive or busy, when in fact, he’s struggling to keep up. I think this will be a very important and fancy date, something more.. official? Not something casual or anything you may take for granted. They want to make sure you’re comfortable and may even gawk at you a little bit. They find you really beautiful, pile four, that’s undeniable. There’s a lot of hope - they’re one hundred percent confident you’ll want them back (lol). I think both of you will be dressed up nicely, likely going somewhere to dine or walk? They think you’ve got everything, like you’re the full package, baby! It’s interesting that they’ll try to come off as The Emperor, but deep down I think they’ll try to find all of the ways in which they can “woo” you and make you theirs.

additional messages: “i’m worth it,” solar plexus chakra, if you want somebody by jon mclaughlin, poker face, “please notice”, the way you look tonight (cover) by shawn mendes, “can i kiss you?", fire signs, leo or aries venus/mars.

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