#//and speed limits were broken that day.

[latenightdaydreams]

Werewolf König x Human!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Master List

>cw: fem/afab, p in v, non-con, werewolf, knotty, breeding kink, biting, chase

3.5k word count

🐺

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💖Set in the 1980s💖

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It’s half past midnight as you hug your best friend goodbye. Her boyfriend had broken up with her, so you made the hour drive into the countryside to see her, but you work tomorrow so you aren’t able to stay the night.

“Are you sure you can’t stay?” Laura, your friend, asks. “It looks like it’s about to snow.” She looks to the sky with her sage green eyes, cheeks stained red from crying, but she still looks so beautiful.

“I can’t miss any more days of work, or else I would. I’ll drive safe, promise.” You hold your pinky finger out for her to wrap hers around.

“Call me once you get home, please.”

“I will.” You wave to her over your shoulder as you walk to your car. When you look up, you can see bright gray clouds and the full moon illuminating the night sky. You unlock your car and get inside, turning up the heater all the way.

 The radio turns on, Air Supply- “Making Love Out of Nothing at All”, blares from the speakers. Singing out with all your heart along with the radio as you turn your headlights on and set off back home.

The main road you take has no street lights to illuminate the path; only the light from your headlights and the moon to guide your way. When you look on either side of you, all you can see is dense woods with the occasional farm land.

Fluffy chunks of snow fall from the sky as the road ahead of you quickly gets covered. You turn on your windshield wipers at the highest setting. The snow makes the drive seem more surreal. As you have stepped into a Disney movie. It’s relaxing, to say the least.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can swear you see something big. You twist your head, trying not to look away from the snowy road for too long. Yet, you see nothing. You chalk it up to you being tired and seeing things. This area has no wolves, at least not anymore. They were all hunted into extinction or pushed out.

The drive only gets harder as the snow falls faster than what your windshield wipers can clear away. The visibility becomes so poor you can only see a few feet in front of you. Feeling your heartbeat pick up from anxiety, you slow your speed to 15 under the speed limit. You’d rather be safe than sorry.

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König deployed to middle America twenty-seven days ago. It was supposed to be a quick in-and-out extraction that went sideways. Two weeks turned into four. Panic set in as he realized he will change away from his restraints.

Day twenty-eight, he looked at his men with hungry eyes. Their fear of him becoming easier to smell and he knew he had to get away from them for their safety.

“I’m going to patrol. Make sure no one follows us.” He lies.

The sky beginning to turn a pinkish orange hue as he drops his weapons and runs. His heart pounding in his chest, dirt kicking up beneath his feet, he tries to get as far away from them as he can.

Looking up, the sky turns a dark blue as the sun is almost completely set. After what feels like an eternity of running, he finds an abandoned run-down farm. He makes his way inside the barn to make sure he is alone.

Once inside König quickly pulls his helmet off of his head followed by his mask. He drops to his knees taking in deep breaths. He can feel his body temperature beginning to rise rapidly and his senses begin to heighten. His pupils enlarge, turning his icy blue eyes black as he begins to pant. Pain consumes his body as he begins to change, his hands grabbing at his shirt and pulling the rest of his clothes from his body with haste.

“Argh!” König’s scream comes out deep, inhuman. His body begins to contort as he drops to the floor in agony.

His fingertips now sharp claws, black and grayish fur cover his body. Standing up from the floor, fully transformed, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a loud howl. He now stands 9ft tall. Taking a moment to adjust to everything he can’t stop sniffing the air. There is a scent, one that he has never smelled before. He follows it outside of the barn. Stepping into the moonlight, he begins to run on all fours in the direction it’s coming from.

König is blinded by his pure primal drive as he runs with one objective. He stops by a roadside and looks up to see a small ranch style home with two cars parked outside. A woman with her back turned to him hugging a taller blonde. It wasn’t the blonde he was here for; it was you. He was smelling you.

His eyes follow you as you walk to your car. It was too risky to run out and grab you now. When the headlights turn on his eyes; he squints, retreating back into the tree line. König stands on two feet and sniffs the air, letting out a deep sigh before dropping back down on all fours. He begins to follow you.

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You lean forward as you drive to try and see the road better. Driving was becoming dangerous, but you’re still 45 minutes away from home. Out of the corner of your eye you see the dark shadow again. It’s almost as if it’s something chasing the car, but you chalk it up to just the shadows mixing with the heavy downfall of snow.

The car’s tires begin to struggle to grip the road as it quickly becomes slippery from the heavy layer of snow. You lift your foot from the gas to let yourself slow down more.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You whisper to yourself as you feel your heart beating in your ears. You absolutely hate driving in the snow, especially when you’re so far away from home. Had you known it would snow, you would have had Laura come stay with you.

Just as you did breathing exercises to calm yourself, something huge darts in front of your car. You slam on your brakes and turn the steering wheel. A panicked scream leaves your mouth as your car drifts out of control. Within the blink of an eye, your car slams into a guardrail that stops you from falling into a ravine. Your head hits the steering wheel and you fall to the side slightly, making the music blast. The song “Every Breath You Take” by the Police fills the car.

“Shit.” You sit up and rub your head, feeling warm blood on your fingers.

Reaching over, you turn your rearview mirror towards you to check yourself. The low light makes it hard, but you only see a cut across your forehead. Letting out a deep sigh, you look at the car through the windshield. It’s smoking, but the battery is still running, so you try to get the car to start back up. Nothing. You’re stranded.

Stepping out of the car, you’re hit by the harsh cold and the snow on your face. It’s absolutely miserable outside. You remember the last roadside sign said there was a rest stop about two miles ahead, you could definitely call for help there.

You go into your car’s trunk and pull out the flashlight you had back there in case of emergencies; much like the ones you’re in now. The snow crunched beneath each of your footsteps as you made your trek to the rest stop. If there is one thing you can be thankful for, it’s the fact you wore your winter boots today.

“Just my luck…” you whisper to yourself, your breath visible as you speak. The wind whistles all around you as you hug yourself with one arm and continue holding the flashlight up with the other. The night is eerily quiet, not one other car on the road.

You continue ahead and stay to the side near the tree line just in case a car came. You can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if you’re being followed. In your head, you tell yourself that it must be just all of the anxiety. No one else is actually out here.

That is until you hear a branch snap. You freeze for a second, holding your breath, trying to listen. All you can hear is the sound of the wind whistling around you and your heartbeat in your ears. Just an animal… You think, but then you scare yourself trying to think about what size animal that was.

With nothing you can do, you decide to just push forward and keep walking. Each step you take with haste, as you feel the fear of being watched, might be valid. You try to not freak out and waste all of your energy running, so in your mind, you try to calm yourself.

Maybe it was only a deer. Deer are heavy and live here. Could have also just been a branch falling down…

To relax more, you hum to yourself, just a random tune you made up in your head. You look up at the sky to gaze at the moon when you hear another branch snap. You twist in that direction and shine your light. That’s when you see the reflective glow of a pair of eyes inside the tree line.

The eyes quickly move away, your stomach dropping. Your mind goes back to the creature you saw while driving. You look around before continuing on. Your once hurried steps are more of a light jog. Your mind is torn between the primal urge to run and the human urge to remain calm.

Just a deer, just a deer, just a deer…

You hear another branch and you jump, turning again to shine the light on it again. The eyes appear once more, closer this time. You let out a shaky breath as you feel a wave of dread wash over you. Just then, you hear a low growl.

Not a deer, not a deer, not a deer!

Without a second thought, you turn and run, continuing down the road. Your mind goes a million miles a second as you try to process what animal it could be; maybe even a stray dog. Either way, you didn’t want to find out.

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König watches you closely. Your smell is intoxicating. Consuming his mind, he can’t stop pursuing you. When you hear his heavy foot snap a stick, he freezes; he can hear your heartbeat race inside of your chest. The smell of fear growing stronger by the second.

You shine the light in his eyes, and he cowers away from the brightness of it. He lingers as you walk away again, getting some distance between the two of you so it would be easier to follow you without being seen.

He keeps his pace, listening to you hum a song to yourself. Acting as if you’re unaware that you’re being stalked when your elevated heart beat says otherwise. Then he does it again. This time you’re quick and flash the light on him instantly.

His urge to get close to you is uncontrollable. Your smell…what is it? He needs you, craves you. You are his. He lets out a deep growl, feeling his body tingle. You hear it and take off quickly. This is the moment, his time to pounce.

He picks up his pace until he is ahead of you. Once he is, he jumps out from the woods and walks in front of you. Standing up on two legs, he lifts his head and howls.

A deep, truly terrified scream escapes your lips as you watch a 9-foot-tall creature stand before you on two legs, howling as a wolf. Your flashlight illuminates the thick, dark fur covering its whole body. This was the creature you saw running beside your car, the one stepping on sticks, whose eyes you saw glowing…

You turn quickly and run back in the opposite direction, towards Laura’s house. In a panic, you drop your flashlight, your only possible weapon. There is no time to stop and pick it up, as you can hear the creature beginning to chase you.

“HELP!” you scream into the darkness, but there is no one around to hear you. “PLEASE!”

Adrenaline courses through your veins as your feet slip on the snow beneath you. You catch yourself and keep going. Looking over your shoulder, the creature is gone. What the fuck… You stop to look around, panting.  

If it wasn’t for the claw marks in the snow, you’d think you were hallucinating. Laura's home is closer to you than the rest stop, so you continue running back in that direction. As the adrenaline wears off, tears fill your eyes, the rush of everything you just witnessed causing you to break down. You take a deep inhale before letting out a loud sob, your feet slowing. Allowing yourself to have a moment before collecting yourself.

You wipe your tears away, trying to steady your breath as you turn to look behind you. All you see are your own footprints now. The cold makes your nose leak as you wipe it away on your coat sleeve.

“What the fuck is going on?” You whisper to yourself as you sniffle.

You turn back around and freeze. Up the road you see a dark black shadow. Your heart rate spikes again. It doesn’t move, so you take small steps backwards. Unexpectedly, the creature walks away slowly back into the wooded area. Confused on which direction you should go; you just continue to go towards Laura. Clearly, no matter where you go, this thing can move faster. Everything around you is quiet; on high alert, your eyes dart around in every direction.

“Just keep walking. You’ll be at Laura’s in no time.” Your voice cracks, lacking confidence in your own words. It’s as if this thing was toying with you.

Your body shivers from the intense cold. In your mind you convince yourself that this will just be a funny story you tell her once you get there. She will make you hot chocolate and everything will be fine. You’ll be okay.

Just as you started to believe your own hype, your body hits the snow-covered road- hard. Your head hits the ground and your vision goes blurry for a split second. You can feel hands grabbing your ankles and dragging you back into the woods. In a panic you begin to grasp at the snow on the ground, trying to pull yourself away from it.

“Let me go!” You try to squirm, trying to make yourself difficult in hopes it will drop you.

The creature growls at you, refusing to drop you. It drags you through the cold snow, sticks hitting your face and scratching you. Finally, it drops your legs. You turn quickly and begin to scoot away on the floor.

This… this isn’t real. This can’t be real. You see a 9-foot-tall wolf looking humanoid. A werewolf? No, they aren’t real.

König takes a deep breath in, having you this close makes that sweet smell so much more intense. His eyes travel over your body. He needs to claim you. He steps closer as you begin to crawl backwards. A growl escapes his lips as he lunges forward, grasping your ankle tightly; screams going unheard.

His clawed hand comes up and rests on your chest, pressing you into the cold ground.  Moving slowly, his cold wet nose touches your neck and you wince. His tongue coming out and kicking you.

His hands grasp your winter coat, ripping his sharp claws through it. A burst of cold hits you as you try to fight back. You hit him in the chest and on his face. He grasps both of your wrists with one hand and holds you down.

With your coat torn open, the sweet scent gets stronger. He is getting closer. In a frenzy he continues to tear off your clothing. Your small body wiggling didn’t slow him one bit. Covered in goosebumps from the cold you feel his nose trail down your body until he lands between your legs.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs he begins to take deep breaths, it’s what he’s been chasing. He’s finally found his mate. The aroma of your cunt begins to make his cock hard. His fat tongue presses against the fabric of your blue cotton panties.

“No!” You try to kick him again.

His blacked-out eyes snap up at you and snarls before looking back down. Grabbing the hem of your underwear with his teeth, he jerks his head to the side; tearing your underwear off. You have half of a shirt on, your bra torn down the center. You’re basically naked, the snow still falling heavily. Other than the extreme heat from the werewolf, you’re freezing.

Nuzzling his snout between your legs, he begins to lap at your cold cunt. His first taste made him close his eyes; he has never tasted anything as good as you before. Your back arches, hands still restrained above your head. Squeezing your legs around him you let out a tiny moan. He responds with a low growl. All he can think of is getting your scent all over him and his all over you.

His hands move to your hips and pull you toward him. His hands wrapping around your thighs and spreading your legs wide apart to fit his body between them. His hips grind forward and rub his massive erection along your wet folds.

You look up at him helplessly as he leans forward to lick your face and neck. Slowly the fat head of his red cock begins to slip into your tiny little cunt. A loud groan leaves his lips as he feels you wrap around him. His claws dig into the supple flesh of your thighs as he rolls his hips into you at a rapid pace.

Hands grasping at the forest floor, grabbing leaves and pieces of your torn clothes. You try to crawl backwards but he stops you, growling as he pulls you closer to him again. He gives you a glare as his cock stretches you to the brink, you’re his now to breed with and you won’t be leaving until you’re bred.

He drops your legs and turns you over. Your naked body hits the snow and you shiver. His hands grab your hips and pull you to him so you’re on all fours with your ass in the air for him. His cock slips back in, making him let out a small growl. His balls slap against your clit as he bucks into you.

Moans leave your lips, feeling disgusted with yourself for feeling pleasure from this beast. He loves to hear your pathetic little sounds. König’s claws dig into your hips as he gets closer to cumming inside of you.

Panting loudly as he leans over and begins to bite your neck hard. You let out a pained moan, the bite feeling slightly pleasurable. Slowly, the pressure of the bite increased and it was almost like he was keeping you in place.

That’s when you feel his hands on your hips push you down more on his cock. Your pussy is already full. You squirm from the pain. The squirms don’t stop him. He is close now. His hands firmly pull you back again as he pushes forward and you let out a loud moan. Little did you know he was trying to knot you.

König was ready to cum. His teeth sink fully into your neck, causing you to bleed. He pulls you to him and pushes forward until it pops in- finally. Instantly, your pussy clenches around his bulbous knot. You’re so tight, his cock throbbing periodically as he cums deep inside of you. Making sure not even one drop escapes you.

His massive body keeps you warm as you lie there in pain from being so full. You try to move and he growls at you, still not moving his teeth from your neck.

Slowly, he moves his teeth from your neck. You try to move and lie down, but you can’t. You're attached to him. Looking back over your shoulder at him, he leans back in and licks your face before licking your neck where he marked you. Now you’re officially his mate.

He stays locked inside of you as he ejaculates until his knot slowly fades away. Almost an hour on the freezing cold floor. If it wasn’t for his body heat, you would have frozen to death by now. As König slowly pulls out, he looks down at your small body. His eyes focused on your stretched pussy. Gently, he lifts you into his arms and walks you to the barn. He would not let you go now that he has found you.

[jeonginslut]

what sex is like with them. . . ft. shotaro, anton, & sungchan of riize

content warning: nsfw(18+) minors dni, afab!reader, explicit sex, spit, face slapping, fingering, oral, mentions of d/s dynamics, etc.

authors note: this was fun to write, i dedicate this to my very best friends who love shosho & sungchan <3. i hope you all enjoy, and requests are open 🩵

.☘︎ ݁˖ SHOTARO

depending on the day. . . it’ll either be very insane sex or very gentle. shotaro is more often than not whiny, begging you to touch him or for him to touch you. however, sometimes, shotaro will take over and put your head through WALLS. starting off gentle, kissing you softly and hand rubbing your hip. then, a switch would flip and next thing you know he has you on all fours, one hand pulling your hair and the other pushing your back into a deeper arch. you would be so overwhelmed with pleasure that you reach back and attempt to push him away. that would make him go feral, pushing your hand away before flipping you over and slapping you across the face

“running from this dick baby?” he’d coo as he tenderly rubbed your cheek, but his dark eyes reading something completely different.

you weren’t even able to answer once he released your face, legs shaking in pleasure as you felt your release getting closer and closer.

your peak was just about to take over, broken moans and a weak “taro” escaping your lips, but your orgasm never came.

tears welled up in your eyes as you opened them, looking at shotaro who was smirking down at you.

“you don’t think you’ll get to cum after running from me like that, did you baby?” he whispered, kissing the tears that streamed down your face, “let’s try this again?”

.☘︎ ݁˖ SUNGCHAN

fucking sungchan was like an out of world experience every single time. he would push you to your limits that you didn’t even know existed, but also left you feeling more than satisfied.

he was so mean, and loved to make you cry. teasing you until you full on sobbed, begging for his dick.

“aw, look at the crybaby,” he would mock pout, grabbing your face between his fingers, letting them slightly dig into your cheeks, “crying cause she wants some dick?”

more tears would fall from your eyes, nodding so hard that it would actually hurt a little, “please sungchan, i’ve been so good.”

he’d tilt his head to the side, laughing at you before taking his hand and pushing your bottom lip down, “if you’re so good, you’ll let me fuck your pretty mouth and then maybe, just maybe, i can consider fucking you till you’re crying— oh, you already are.”

eager to please, you would get on your knees and pull at his joggers, eager to please him, but he’d stop you, “mm, open for me baby.”

you were confused, but opened your mouth anyway, moaning when you felt his spit hit your tongue.

“you’re so nasty,” he would tug at your hair, bringing your face closer to his clothed dick that was very clearly showing through his grey pants, “taking just about anything i would give you.”

.☘︎ ݁˖ ANTON

THE BIGGEST BOTTOM FEEDER. anton is so pathetic when it comes to sex, he would do just about anything you wanted him to do.

he loves going down on you , feeling you tug at his hair and his nose bump into your clit as he eats you like a starved man. you taste so good to him, so he could honestly eat you out for hours if you’d let him.

but you’re too good to him, telling him how to do it, when to add a finger and when to speed up. anton loves when you talk to him, it makes him feel ecstatic knowing that you let him make you fall apart.

when it comes down to actual fucking, oh he’s done for. the way you wrap around his dick would have him over the edge if you didn’t help build his stamina. every time he fucked you, he felt like a virgin all over again.

your cunt just took him so well, and the sound of you moaning his name drove him crazy. he loves when your acrylic nails dig into his forearms, telling him how good he’s fucking you.

you never told him, but when his chain hits you on the nose when he’s on top, it makes you cum faster than ever.

anton is so attentive to you, making sure you feel amazing before he even considers how he is doing.

“am i doing okay for you?” he would whisper as he fucked into you slowly.

[lleldey]

The Broken Vow

Description: You met your husband when you were children, foolishly following the pull of first love. Nothing seemed impossible with him holding your hand; dreams and hopes at your fingertips. But when an accident happened, and you were left alone in this world, you learned how to rebuild it without him. Years later he’s back by your side, the only problem – he’s not too keen on having been replaced. It’s not your fault...right?

Warnings: manipulation, yandere, hospitals, divorce, mentions of death, angst, weight loss (not by MC), power corruption, self-condemnation. Please keep in mind this is a yandere story.

Word Count: ~13.5k

One-shot

!In no way of shape and form do I think this is how Jungkook acts in real life, this is pure work of fiction, so if you choose to read it, please keep that in mind!

Life is the biggest mystery of them all. You’ve promised yourself to never again take it for granted, yet now you wish the time to stop, and for you to disappear in it.

You don’t remember how you got here, the parking lot of the hospital seems eerily empty, the vacant lights illuminating the lone space. You rest your head against the seat and wish for whomever is upstairs to give you strength, you remember how you prayed years on end for this day to come, but now that it’s here, you’re at a loss of what to do.

Notifications from your phone light the car, and for the first time in hours, you pick up your muted phone and scroll through the countless messages and calls, some from unknown numbers, probably the medical staff, and some from people you tried your best to forget.

3.04 a.m.

You should’ve been here at least an hour ago, but the ride took almost twice as much as it should’ve. The speed of your car never nearing the limit, every yellow light stopped at, and every minute spent in silence. No music, no thoughts, just silence.

If it were to happen two years ago, you would’ve jumped in relief and happiness, thousand possibilities running through your mind, and body jittering in anticipation, but as you walk through the hospital door, you look around lost. Not sure where to go, not sure if you wish to go.

The reception stares right at you, and you know you should probably go there, but your legs mindlessly carry you to the waiting area. You sit down and look at the people around you, only a few give you company in the dead of night.

A woman sits in front of you, dried tears trace her face, as she clutches the hand of a man besides her. Probably her husband. You watch how he caresses her hand, while they mutter something under their breath, and fresh tears fall from her eyes. It looks like they’re praying. Should you be crying as well?

From your peripheral vision you see someone stand next to you, but you can’t hear what they’re saying, as you continue to watch the sorrowful woman in front of you.

“Mrs. Jeon?”

You play with the gold ring on your finger, the jewelry calms your mind, as you mindlessly twirl it around.

Cough sounds besides you, “Mrs. Jeon?”

Not so far along you were in her shoes, the memory still fresh in your mind. How you sat in the seat for hours, crying and hoping for God to take pity on you. But now you pity the woman; she doesn’t know that the seat she’s occupying will soon become her second home.

A hand on your shoulders breaks your trance, and you look up confused as the nurse once again asks, “Mrs. Jeon?”

Only now you realize she’s speaking to you, and you’re quick to start, “No, no, I’m not-” but you catch yourself, and swallow your words as the realization hits you. No one has addressed you in such way for years, and her words trigger a distant past.

The woman looks at you expectantly, but all you manage to do is stand up and barely nod your head, as memories from years ago plays out in your head.

She outstretches her hand, a light smile graces her tired face, “Mrs. Jeon, I’m your husbands’ doctor, we talked previously,” you shake her hand, only half-heartedly listening to her words, and silently follow her lead.

“Your husband has been asking for you, and dare I say he’s very persistent,” she chuckles, and you butt in, “He’s awake?” she must’ve seen panic travelling through your body, as your hands start to shake and suddenly your surroundings seem grounded, the sleep like state ripped away like a bandage.

“He awoke 2 hours ago,” you stop near a door, laughter resonating from it, and you swear, the voices seem eerily familiar, “your family is with him right now, but he keeps asking for you.”

“His family is here?” she nods her head, and you’re not sure if you can do this. They don’t want to see you, the last time you spoke, you made his mother cry, and his brother chose to ignore your existence.

You drag your hands down your face, you must look a mess, hair sticking every way possible, and the pajamas mixed with your sneakers surely doesn’t help. You feel the doctor’s hand on your shoulder and with a squeeze she points towards the closed door.

Before she leaves, you grab her hand and mutter the words that keep ringing in your head, “How is this possible? Everyone said there’s no hope if I had known...” your words slowly fade, as you watch her with tearful eyes, hoping she’d understand.

“Your husband was taken for his annual checkup, and we noticed some…” she stops and thinks of the correct words, “elements that shouldn’t be present with his condition.” You nod your head, clinging to her every word, hoping that you weren’t at fault for this.

“We did some additional tests, and they came back positive for minimal consciousness.” She holds your hands when your lips began to tremble, “And after your agreeance, we gave him course of amphetamine, and now here we are.”

Her smile should’ve calmed you, but shame manages to creep up your veins; how are you supposed to face him? If he’s been asking for you, surely, he doesn’t know anything. Or perhaps he does and wants to see you begging for forgiveness.

The doctors’ steps slowly fade away, and you’re left with the door glaring daggers into your soul. You try to remind yourself that these are good news, you’d hoped for years on end for this day to come, then why does what’s hidden behind the door scare you so much?

You hear the voices of his family members through the walls, voices from people you used to call your own family. You haven’t talked to them for two years, even if some of them tried to reach out to you.

The room feels suffocating even through the door, you envision their judging stares, and harsh whispers. You lay your head against the door and try to calm yourself. Perhaps they won’t let you in, chase you away even before you step a foot in. But through the war in your head, you hear a soft voice, such a delicate voice you think your mind made it up.

Tears spring to your eyes, as you realize it’s truly him; ever since the doctor called you, all you could think of was his family, the possibility of him being awake seemed so unimaginable, that you didn’t dare to hope.

His voice calls you like a melody, the soft hums you longed to hear for one last time. Gently you open the door, and the room falls silent, distasteful looks thrown at you from every corner. Slowly you step in, still keeping the door open, you wrap your hands around your body when you notice how elegant everyone looks.

What else could you expect from the Jeons? Makeup in the middle of night, suits and silk dresses are a norm, you should know, this was your life not so long ago. You try to soothe down your hair, while stuttering, “H-Hello,” you don’t await a response, and feel yourself caving in further, the dark gazes you expected are overpowering, and you’re close to running out of the room.

“Can I come in?” you try, you truly try to make this less awkward, but you hear your voice quivering, and their heated stares make you turn to the door, longing for a breath of air.

Before you manage to run out of the confined space, Jungkooks’ mom steps up, and approaches you, “Child, I’m so happy to see you,” she grabs your hands, and you manage to smile back, at least someone in this room doesn’t hate you.

Your relief is short lived, as a man’s voice comments from the front of the bed, “Took her long enough” Your gaze drifts to him, as Jungkooks mother scolds him, and you hear a familiar voice, hidden between the sea of people, disapprove as well, “Jin, don’t speak to her like that.”

Your breath hitches, and you try to look past the bodies hiding him from your view. Involuntarily your lips start to tremble, all you manage to decipher is his raven black hair and hand that tries to shoo his family away from blocking you, but that is enough for tears to trace down your cheeks.

You feel a hand on your shoulder, and your gaze snaps back to his mom, and her sympathizing smile makes your tears fall down quicker, “All right everyone, let’s head out, and give them some space.”

You start to protest, as much as you wish to see him, you’re also afraid. You don’t know how much he knows, but your hands tremble from the idea of seeing him for the first time in years. Jungkooks mom stops you before you manage to say a word, “You’ve some explaining to do, and we must start preparing for court.”

Your eyes snap to her, and with furrowed brows you mutter, “You’re suing them?”, and the room fills with arrogant chuckles, “They took my baby away for years, of course we’ll sue those incompetent doctors.” She states while longingly looking towards the hidden bed.

Jin shoots you a grimace and mutters as he passes you by, “That’s the least we can do, they don’t deserve their certificate. Those doctors should not be allowed to step near a patient ever again.” He stops by the door and looks you over, suddenly your shoes seem like the most interesting thing in the world.

“They should know what happens when you mess with Jeons.” His words feel directed not only to the poor professionals. They should know indeed, and if they don’t, then they’ll have to learn the hard way. That much you can say from your own experience.

Jungkooks mom stands besides Jin, and pats his cheek while muttering, “You’re right son, now that both my babies are back, they’ll see why you don’t mess with attorneys.” You choose to stay quiet; they can barely stand your existence as it is, you doubt that they would overlook you going against them again.

Silence entails once more, as everyone leaves the room, you don’t miss how they keep a great distance passing you by, as if the mere presence of you disgusts them. But this was to be expected, and you stand still, not looking up till you hear the door close.

It takes a good minute for you to gather yourself and look up, but when you see him lying in the bed awake, looking at you with the love filled smile he used to give you, the barely patched up walls of your heart break, and you cover your mouth to silence the sob that wrecks your body.

Your feet carry you closer to him, and you stand by the bed, body shaking and tears falling. His hand reaches out to you, trying to comfort your restless mind, and you throw yourself in his embrace, the soft huff and chuckle rumbling his chest.

His heart beats against your own, and you pull him closer, not fully believing that you’re not dreaming. Hidden in his chest you whisper, “Is this real?”, but the hand that caresses your hair confirms your suspicion, this is real.

The countless years spent lying on his chest, praying that one day he awakens and embraces you like he used to leaves a bitter taste on your tongue, and you pull away just enough to see his bright eyes and gentle smile, and fall back into his chest, cherishing the moment at hand.

He leaves soft kisses on your head, and you let tears fall freely on his hospital gown, you forgot how warm his skin is, how comforting his touch is, the lonesome years left you with nothing but the far memory of it.

“Has it truly been seven years?” his voice sounds scratchy, his vocal cords vulnerable from all the years spent in silence. You raise your head to look at him, tears still falling, and caress his face noting the beard that has taken its place.

You nod your head and shakily mutter, “Almost eight”, to be precise seven years and two hundred and fifty-seven days of him laying motionless, unaware of his surroundings and your breaking heart. Jungkook heaves a sigh, and you lean into his touch, relishing his warm hand drawing patterns over your cheek.

He carefully examens your face, taking into account every detail and new wrinkle, “You look-”, playfully you groan, and sniffle, “Old? Like a train wreck?” to which he chuckles, and you can’t help yourself but do the same, you haven’t heard his laugh in so long, the sound almost hypnotizing.

“I was going to say beautiful,” you shake your head at his teasing grin, “God truly took his time on you, age suits you well. I just wish I was here to see it; it feels like only a day has passed, yet everything has changed.”

Your smile slowly fades, oh, he has no idea how much everything has changed, but you don’t wish to break his heart, so you opt to cheer up the dampening mood, “And you look like a cave man”

You brush your fingertips against his beard, something he used to keep track of to never grow out. His hair is also noticeably longer, brushing past his shoulders. You used to be the one who cut it, and shaved his face, but you haven’t been here for almost two years.

His hand moves to your chin, and your heart stutters; even though years have passed, he still acts like the man you loved, bringing you closer by your chin to kiss you. Now quickly realizing his motive, you back away and mutter, “We should probably do something about it, there must be shaving cream somewhere nearby”

If he notices the distance you created, he chooses to ignore it, a light furrow of his brows all is seen, before it morphs into a smile once more, “And here I thought you promised to love me for better or worse, even when I turn into a cave man”

Your heart sinks at his words, even though they are true, you’ve no clue how to even start to explain how you broke your vows, crumbled them like a piece of paper. You start to get up in search of a nurse, but Jungkook quickly stops you and presses a button, to which one quickly comes in and leaves in search of Jungkooks demand.

You sit back in a chair and enjoy his silent company while you wait for her to come back, seeing him conscious, breathing and back to his normal self is more than you could’ve asked for, and you can’t stop the tears that grace your waterline.

“I felt like I was going insane while waiting for you. Jin said you moved to another city...?” his questioning gaze looks over your features, and you distantly hum, when the nurse comes back and leaves a small bowl of water, razor, and some shaving cream.

Gently you start applying the cream on his face, and you feel his eyes burning, trying to catch your gaze. Continuing your work, you start to explain, careful with your wording, as the subject entails more than you wish to tell, “It was hard being there alone. But I didn’t sell it if you’re worried about that”

Understandingly he nods his head, and you cup his chin while gently scolding him for moving, afraid to accidentally cut his skin. You see his muscles morph into a smile, and you stop your movements, and look him in the eye as you shake your head with a smile of your own.

You lead the razor gently over the white foam and see glimpse of his youthful skin hidden behind it, “I can’t wait to go back home with you, these hospital beds will give me a backache like no other. Our bed is far more comfortable, not to mention you, who’s the softest pillow to exist.”

You press your lips together, and tightly smile; silence might be the best answer for now. You let his dreams carry on, couple of years ago you would’ve fallen into them with him, but now, you know you can’t afford to do so.

But the sparkles that coat his eyes are too bright and tender for you to extinguish, yes, you are selfish, you allow yourself to live in the fantasy-esque world that Jungkook desperately tries to pull you in, even just for a moment. You lost him for so long, barely found a footing in this world alone, but now that he’s here, the idea of losing him again hurts more than words could entail.

Jungkook is no fool, he sees that something is amiss. Your tense body, and pursed lips tell him that much. He tries to be gentle, it’s understandable that you’re confused, after all almost 8 years have passed. But it irks him when you refuse his touch, doing so seamlessly, that one might not even notice.

But someone isn’t Jungkook, he’s your husband, and has been your lover for six years before the accident. The past few hours have been dubious; at first everyone was elated, tears filled the room as more and more people came in.

But with each time the door opened his patience tinned out, they weren’t you, and as much as he was grateful to see everyone, the one he truly longed for wasn’t there. He tried to calm himself, he knew that you’re well and somewhere nearby, as the doctor said they talked to you, but every time he brought you up, the room turned silent, anxious looks passed by everyone present, till they ended the subject with, hopefully she’ll be here soon, and you’ll understand everything.

Now, what was ‘hopefully’ supposed to mean?

“I’m sorry about Jin, I don’t know what came over him” he starts, carefully observing your movements, but you tick your head, and forcefully shake the razor in the bowl. “He’s your brother, he was only looking out for you.”

“But you have great relationship, he shouldn’t speak to you like that” the sad smile that graces your lips makes him even more confused, “We did. But after you-” you sigh and drop the razor in the bowl, and grab a towel, softly wipe the residue off his skin “A lot has changed, I had a falling out with your family”

You focus all your attention on patting his skin dry, but his hand stops yours, and when you look up you see the light panic clouding his eyes, “How is that possible? Is it because of the accident?” you shush his rambling, and smile while caressing his jaw, “Don’t worry about it, at least now you’re no longer a cave man.”

He huffs, but you don’t pay it any attention, just appreciate his smooth skin that seems radiant in comparison to the last time, when you said your goodbyes to him. You allow him to play with your fingers, and don’t even notice when he pulls your hand closer to his face.

“Why are your fingertips cut? Do they hurt? Your skin isn’t as smooth as it usually is…” you laugh at his zeroed-in attention on your fingers, and with adoration explain, “I’m used to it, I work as a hairdresser now, and every once in a while, help out in a farm”

His facial expression is one for the books, he starts to sit up, and anxiously you try to stop him, but he stubbornly ignores your protests while cradling your hand to his heart, “What the hell did I miss? A hairdresser? But what about photography, it’s your dream!”

You nibble on your lip, while trying to think of a way to calm him down, this much stress surely isn’t good for his body, “Photography doesn’t pay the bills. I couldn’t stay here, Kook. I moved out and this was my only option.”

As much as you try to soothe him, your words go amiss, he shakes his head, thousand thoughts travelling through it, “I don’t get it, you had my trust fund, you shouldn’t have to worry about bills”

He tries to understand, he truly does, but something doesn’t add up, and it keep him on the edge. You move closer to him, and sit on the bed next to him, hoping that it would ease his mind, “They cut me off,” before Jungkook starts to panic, you continue, “we got into an argument, and that was my decision, I stand by it.”

Jungkook shakes his head and opens his mouth, but nothing comes from it. You watch how he falls back onto the pillows with a frustrated sigh, “It doesn’t matter. I’m here now, and I’ll handle it. I should’ve taken care of you, and I failed.”

You shake your head, “Don’t say that. Just promise to never again touch a motorcycle in your life.” He takes your hands in his own and presses kisses all over while repeatedly mumbling, “I’m sorry”

“It must’ve been so hard for you. I’ll get discharged, and we’ll move back into our own place, everything will be back to normal. You won’t have to worry about a single thing.”

Nothing will ever be the same, but he’s clueless. Your heart clenches as you realize you have to tell him the truth. He’s living in the idyllic life you created years ago, oblivious of how broken it now is. You have to tell him.

You straighten you back and ready yourself for what’s to come, “Jungkook, I-” But before you manage, he stops you

“What’s that?”

You follow his gaze, and your breath hitches. “That’s my ring, Jungkook.” His grip tightens around your fingers, and very slowly grits out, “That is not our wedding ring”

His gaze travels to your own and noticing the tears clouding your gaze his eyes narrow, “No, it’s not. But it is my wedding ring.”

Silence overtakes the room, but his eyes don’t stray from you, unblinking, frozen, trying to make sense of what you’ve told. “You cannot remarry when you’re already married. To me, might I add.” He articulates every word slowly, as if speaking to a child, and you shake your head and somewhat shamefully mutter, “We’ve been divorced for almost three years”

His neck slowly turns red, and his muscles are strained, veins popping out of his neck and forehead. You feel the doom coming, and you try to make him understand, “Jungkook, please understand. You were basically dead, and I waited for years but I-”

“What the fuck do you mean you’re married to someone else” his voice raises, and you feel the words vibrate through your body, “Jungkook,” is all you manage to whimper.

“You are my wife,” he hits his chest, “My wife, what are you even talking about?!” at this point he’s screaming, and you try to shush him to no avail.

His words become distant, once you see tears streaming down his cheeks. His hand is wailing around, neck strained and face red, and forcefully he pulls you closer by the hand he’s still gripping with full force.

You don’t hear the nurses running in, your eyes zeroed on his enraged state, he tries to push them away, and you force your hand out of his, to try and move away. But your actions don’t go unnoticed, as Jungkook close to lunges toward you.

Everything becomes white noise, and you see everyone screaming, nurses barely able to hold him back from you. He fights against their grip, but his body is frail, and the pool of workers press his body down, all while he scratches, screams and throws pillows every way possible.

Distinctly you hear one of them scream about sedating him, and your body finds the last bit of strength to run out of the room. But you don’t get far, as just outside you bump into his doctor, the poor woman looking over your shoulder astonished, as everything progresses downhill.

You hear him scream your name time after time, but you look at the woman in front of you, and cry out, “I can’t be here, take me off his medical proxy,” You’re out of breath, and you try to mutter a legitimate sentence over your cries, “Ask his brother, anyone, just please-” your words fade, and the woman stares at you in shock, but Jungkook keeps calling your name, and you can’t bear to hear his broken cries. He sounds like a wounded animal, and the sound chills you to the bone.

You push past her and run towards the exit, from your peripheral vision you see his family crowded around the hall, but you don’t stop, even when you hear their voices mixed with Jungkooks shouting after you. You have to get out of here.

Your body moves on its own accord, and perhaps your stressed mind is playing games with you, but you feel someone running after you. Jungkooks cries echo through your mind even when you find yourself in the parking lot, hands shaking, trying to unlock your car.

With trembling hands, you try to ignite the engine, but it won’t start up, frustrated, you hit the steering wheel with your palms, and pray that this isn’t the time your car decides to give up. With a look to the hospitals entrance, you see a dark silhouette running out, you were right, someone was indeed chasing after you.

Praying that they won’t notice you, you sink into the seat, and try to start up your car once more, it takes couple of seconds, but when it does you heave a sigh, and see that the person noticed you only now, headlights turning you in.

You don’t wait to find out who it is, or what they want from you, swiftly you press the gas pedal, and rush back home.

04.46 a.m.

If the road to the hospital took you almost three hours, now you don’t care if you’re speeding, only thing you wish for is to be in your husbands’ arms and cry your heart out. Yes, perhaps you missed a couple of red lights, but you’re too far gone, lost in the labyrinth of your mind to care.

06.10 a.m.

The edges of the clouds shine in golden sparkles, and the darkness slowly dissipates, as sun makes itself known. You drive through the depths of forest green, the car wobbles on the bumpy road, but you feel the end of your misery, as you see glimpse of your home in the distance.

Your body feels frozen, every action robotic, your goal the only thing in mind. You stop the car near the entrance of your home, the stone walls of the house seem lament, and you step out of the car, finally able to take a deep breath.

The door opens, and the gray monotone vanishes, once you see your husband. He looks visibly nervous, but he tries to smile to ease your mind. “How did it go?” his hair is disheveled, and eyes drowsy, it looks like he couldn’t sleep, anxiously waiting for you to come back.

You take a deep breath, and ready yourself to explain how horribly everything transcribed, but all you manage is to whimper “Tae,” before you run into his warm embrace, and let the dam of tears loose.

He caresses your head, and rocks you from side to side, you’re not sure how long you spend like this, you, hyperventilating on his chest, and him, embracing you in his warmth, trying to hold his own tears in. But when you calm down, and look up, the sky is baby blue, sun rays blinding you.

~

Some say you can’t avoid things you don’t want to deal with, but you're determined to prove them wrong.

For the past week, you’ve buried yourself in work, either at the hair salon, or, more so, helping Tae with farm work. Now more than ever you relish his company, his touch and gleaming smile helps you forget about everything else.

But with ignorance comes sloppiness. You can’t count the number of times you’ve accidentally cut your fingers, while trimming someone’s hair, or daydreamed while coloring hair, only for the end result being a two shades different color.

On top of that, Tae’s farm has gotten multiple complaints, so it made sense for you to clock out of work to help him. You’re applying the last bit of color on clients’ roots, every once in a while, humming along her story that, if you remember correctly, is of how her son drove her car in a ditch.

You make sure the color is blended in evenly when your phone rings. After the events in the hospital, your phone was flooded with messages, and the constant ringing was too much for both you and the phone, as it continued to glitch out.

You contemplated the idea of changing your number, but the next day complaints started coming in, and you decided that this isn’t the best time, both financially, and in case someone needs to reach out to you about that. And even if you don’t want to admit it to yourself, somewhere deep down you knew that won’t stop him. But Taehyung advised you to mute everyone’s notifications except for his, and so far, the proposal has worked perfectly.

Quickly you apologize to the woman, and pull off one of the gloves, while answering the phone, “Hi, honey. I’m working, is everything all right?”

His voice comes out rushed, and your smile fades, as you try to understand what he’s saying, “Can you slow down please, I can’t hear you”

He takes a deep breath and this time you manage to hear what he’s rambling, “Okey, I’ll be there soon, we’ll figure something out.” The line disconnects, and you curse under your breath, this isn’t good.

Moving into action, you grab your things, and turn towards one of your colleagues, while packing “Can you please take over my client? I have an emergency, and all that’s left is to wash her hair and style it” you ramble and look at her with puppy eyes.

“Which time is it this week? You can’t drop all of your clients on me” you clasp your hands together, and do your best to give her puppy eyes, but she rolls her eyes.

“I know, but it’s very urgent. Tae’s about to get sued, and he needs me”

She looks at you with a pitying gaze, “This one last time. Next time please remember that I also have a family to go back home to”

Quickly you kiss her cheek and turn to the exit, but you should’ve known that it won’t be this easy. Red fury, or rather, your boss stands at the aisle with a disapproving gaze. Before she starts to protest you butt in, “I know I’ve been distracted, but it’s truly an emergency. I promise once this is over, I’ll take double shifts, but please understand”

She looks nonchalant, and somehow you think that’s worse. She doesn’t scream, or scold you, but simply shakes her head, already given up, “Go,” quickly you thank her, but before you manage to exit, she notes over her shoulder,

“You haven’t been clocking in the hours. If this continues, I won’t have another option but to fire you.”

One foot out of the door you stop, at this point this job is your only income, but you make your decision, as your rush towards the car.

You try to convince yourself that there’s no other option, your husband needs you. You’ve already broken your previous vows, and sure as hell won’t do that again. After all you promised, for better and for worse.

One good thing about living in a village, everything is reachable in spam of minutes. But as you speed down the road, the idyllic ambience and joyous people make you feel like you’re suffocating.

This was never what you wanted, you enjoyed the bustling crowds and big cities dreams, but then the ground disappeared under your feet, and you were left all alone, lost, with no one there to ground you.

But then you met Taehyung, and he gave you another chance in life, even if it was the furthest thing from your reality. You could be the friendly neighbor who talks about her children morning-night. It never was your dream, but it is enough, because you have him.

You rush out of the car in search of him, for once thankful of your small home, as you quickly find him in the living room buried in scattered documents and disheveled hair. Once he notices your presence, he lifts his head up, and you kneel in between his legs to wipe his tears.

“What’s going on, Tae?” he shakes his head, and tries to calm himself. “They are suing me, and I don’t know what to do.”

When you left for work, things weren’t great, but they weren’t necessarily bad. You thought that this was another situation that would pass with time, but now you’re stuck, how could everything change so drastically in a few days?

“A little girl is lying in hospital because of me,” you shudder a breath and quickly stop him, “This isn’t your fault-”, he interrupts you, “But it is! I changed the supplier for a cheaper one, all the complaints, their health is on me!”

It doesn’t add up. He changed it two months ago, why are there problems all of a sudden? You watch his devastated face expression, at a loss of what to do to make everything better.

“Now, I have to compensate costumers, pay the workers, and find attorneys. I’ve already stopped all production, but I can’t fire everyone, they depend on me. I can’t believe I’ve ruined my family’s business.” He shakes his head, and you draw patters over his knee, not sure what to say, just listening.

“And I have no clue where to find resources for everything. I’ve already paid out most of our savings, and it’s just been a week. I don’t know what to do with court, you know how hard it’s to get attorneys.”

A thought strikes you, a possible solution to this whole thing. But you shake your head, as you realize what that would take out of you, you’re not sure if it would serve for better or worse. You rest your head against his knees, and think over the possibilities; you’re the last person he wants to see, you’re sure of that, but do you have a different solution?

But his screams still echo through your head, and you’re not sure if you can go through it again. But you have to try, for Tae.

“I might have a solution for that.” Confused he searches your eyes, and realization dawns upon him. Taehyung quickly gets up and starts pacing around the room. “I’m not putting you through that.”

“He’s our only option. There’s a reason why they’re the best attorneys in country. Worst case scenario, he can give us contacts or dismiss all together.” You don’t voice out the thought that he could indeed do worse, you’re not sure of his emotional state, but judging by the last time when multiple nurses had to hold him back from you, you’re going in blind. And honestly, you don’t blame him, you are at fault for his misery.  

“Alright, but I’m coming with you.” A humorless laugh escapes you, “No, you’re not. He might be unwell, but if he sees you, rage will consume him. You didn’t see what I saw, he doesn’t want to see me honey, let alone you.”

Silence consumes the room, and you know that it’s agreed upon. You have to do this for Tae, and you know you’ve to talk to Jungkook. As much as you’d like to pretend the past 20+ years of your life didn’t happen, you can’t do that. You love him, but you can’t afford to do anything about it. You’re divorced, and that was your doing.

Turns out you can’t hide from things you don’t want to deal with.

~

You’re not sure if this is the right call; it’s been 5 minutes of you standing frozen in front of the door of a place you once called home. Not a single thing has changed, even the doorman recognized you, never mind that years have passed.

You calm yourself (rather try to convince yourself) that everything’s all right. You hoped that Jungkook would deny your request of meeting up, or rather not pick up the phone in general, but he answered on the first beep of the call.

The conversation wasn’t pleasant - even awkward - no pleasantries exchanged. You take a deep breath remembering the lone sentence he muttered during the phone call, “Are you coming back?”

Seeing him brought up memories and feelings you did your best to burry, most prominent one – guilt. You remember the incident at the hospital; how hard you tried to pretend as if nothing has changed, till the truth came out, and you saw his desperate eyes pleading for it to not be true.

Guilt you felt that moment was consuming, you knew that it’s your fault, so you ran. But somehow that didn’t help, only amplified the gut-wrenching pain of leaving the one you love behind, in pain and hurt.

But you comforted yourself with the knowledge he has a crowd of people by his side – they can patch up the tear you made. He doesn’t need you.

And as pathetic as it is, you’re afraid of stepping into the apartment. Isn’t it ironic, you’re the one who’s hurting him, yet you’re afraid of how you’ll feel. Selfishness at its best.

Straightening your back, you knock on the door, silence greets you, and after good 30 seconds you try again. When nothing happens, you try the door handle – it’s unlocked.

Door opens and the comforting smell of your home envelopes you, even if no one occupied it, somehow, it’s still drowning in the smell you seeked comfort in – your washed-out scent mixed with Jungkooks.

Slowly stepping in, you shudder a breath; you’re transported back 7 years ago, the creamy walls and coat racks filled with both of your jackets, messily thrown out shoes in the hall, and photography’s of your small family decorating the walls.

You close your eyes and envision Jungkook coming behind you to help you shrug off the coat, and give you a kiss on the cheek, while hugging you from behind. Just like he always did. The memory seems so tangible yet so far away.

But you open your eyes to the vacant hall, dust particles coting the furniture. Cold seeps under your skin, and you remind yourself of reality. Calling out Jungkooks name is useless, as silence welcomes your nervous state, but your body leads you to the living room, sort of déjà vu coaxing you to go there.

And just like you thought, he’s there. Overlooking the cities horizon, standing still besides the window, even when you address him.

“How are you?” you try to start a conversation and move closer and sit at the couch far enough from his reach, yet close enough to see his stiff body. But his back is turned to you, and he doesn’t give you the least bit of attention. “Door was unlocked, hope you don’t mind me barging into your home…”

“Our home” he’s quick to interrupt, awkwardly you shift weight from foot to foot, “Well, I’m glad you’re alright-” his hollow laugh makes you pause, not sure what to do. His emotions far too intense to what you’re used to, his aggravated scoff makes you sink in with guilt, the gentle mannerism he always bestowed hidden behind waves of betrayal.

Now looking at him through the reflection of the window, you can see he is not the man you’ve known and cherished dear to your heart. His body looks frail, you’re afraid that a stronger breeze of wind will make him break.

But still, your heart cries out for the past. And if it didn’t feel real beforehand, now it does.

He is wearing the sweatpants you bought him years ago, when you first moved into your apartment and decided to paint the walls yourself, you can still see washed out splotches of blue and white on them. Only now the pants are way too big for him, barely hanging on his hips, threatening to fall off any second. His shirt swallows his whole body, pitifully hanging from his shoulders, with no muscles or fat to cling on to.

“You left me. You threw me out the first chance I wasn’t of value to you anymore.” His words hurt you more than imaginable, and as much as you know that’s not the truth, you let him talk. You deserve to hear what you have done.

“And now I have nothing. No job, no home, no purpose, no-” his breath shutters before he whispers, “no one to come back to.”

“All I have is money and this empty space. Space that we built for our family.” He shakes his head, still not looking at you.

“Before you chose to exchange it for that low-life.”

You know what you have done is immoral, but your husband has done no wrong, only nothing less than hold you through these last horrid years.

“Jungkook stop. Please, don’t mix him into this, you know nothing about him-”

He turns to you, and you realize you mistook his anger for pain. His face is scrunched up, brows furrowed and eyes hollow with undeniable rage. You don’t recognize the person in front of you, the soft eyes you longed to gaze at one last time are long gone. And you can’t blame anyone else, but yourself.

He looks older, the dark circles beneath his eyes undeniable, the wrinkle that seems to be taken place in between his brows. And the sharp cheekbones that pinch through his skin. He looks unhealthy, his skin colored in yellowish tone.

“Don’t I? Aren’t you here because he lost his job? Because his dirty secret has come clean, and no one wants to be associated with him?” He steps closer to you.

“Because you want to beg me, your husband to take a pity of your side dick, and give him a job?” As he progresses towards you, you’re able to see how his body trembles, and at this point you don’t know if it’s due to his rage or unwell body.

“He’s not able to take care of himself, let alone you.”

“Am I wrong?”

Looking at his disheveled body, you know you can’t lie to him. You’ve done things you promised to never do in your vows. You hurt him, and you left him. And that’s the greatest pain one can cause another.

But you’re left confused. He knows. But how does he know? Has he been keeping tabs on you?

“Jungkook. Do you have any part in this?” You’re afraid to ask, the answer already looming in his previous words.

“And here I was hoping that my wife still cares for me. That she came to visit me, her husband, who has been almost dead for years.” He shakes his head with a scoff, and you look away.

“But no, she’s more worried about her affair. She doesn’t even care.”

“You know that’s not true.” You bite back your tears. There’s nothing you can say to make it better. You play with your fingers in your lap, too ashamed to look at him.

“Isn’t it? Because I’m here, waiting for you to turn up. And my wife isn’t even bothered to show when I’m being discharged. My wife doesn’t even care I wish I’d be dead, then live with the knowledge that she’s sleeping in someone else’s arms, living the perfect life we promised each other.” His voice breaks, but you still refuse to look at him. He’s crying, breaking down in front of you, and he has every right to do so, because you betrayed him.

Silence drags on, you, not able to look him in the eye, while he shakily breathes out, trying to stabilize his breaking heart. Pacify himself from the reality he’s welcomed to.

“But you know, I’m not sad. I’m angry.”

“I thought about killing your boy toy.” Frightened, you look up, “You know we have contacts for that, hundreds of them lining my phone, hoping we’ll help them in exchange for a favor. But then I thought, what a great feeling it would be to dig my nails through his skin, watch as the life trickles out of him, and smile, when his blood drowns my skin.” You rush to him, hoping to awaken him from his dulled thoughts.

But as you stand in front of him, you’re afraid to touch him, and the thought drives the knife in your heart deeper. You’re afraid to touch the man you promised to love for eternity. The man your heart yearned for years.

“And I want you to feel every bit as I do. I want you to hurt, the same way I do. I want you to see the world crumble beneath your feet and know that there’s nothing you can do about it.” His overbearing frame casts shadow over your form, and you mingle your hands together, trying to stay strong.

“But then I realized, that would be too easy. And you wouldn’t get your lesson. As it turns out, you still don’t know that wife doesn’t disobey her husband.”

“I have always been there for you. And now, you will see what it means, when I stop taking care of you. Because now, you can’t do anything, and I can do everything.”

The promise in his eyes scars you, but when you see the first tear trickling down his cheeks, when you see the hurt you bestowed upon him, nothing else matters except for him.

You watch how he starts to hyperventilate; his body shakes uncontrollably and his face pales. And the moment his knees buckle, your haze is broken, and you catch him in your arms. Panic overtakes every nerve in your body, and you call out for him, only to feel his tears on your shoulder.

You try to move his face towards yours, but he stubbornly shakes his head, hiding in the crook of your neck. “Jungkook, honey,” your voice trembles, “we have to get you to the couch,”

His heart pounds aggressively against your chest, you can’t muster what he sobs in your neck, his cries overpower any possibility of deciphering what he says. You feel your pulse in your ears, and you’re close to succumbing under his weight.

“Please, you have to lay on the couch.” You’re powerless, your own tears cloud your sight, the only thought running through your mind is to get him to safety. You move your hands around his waist, and you thank the gods, as Jungkook seems to hear your words, and weakly takes a step towards the seat.

To see a man, you love crumbled in your arms, barely standing, and breathing, breaks a piece of your sanity. You don’t know what your body is doing, but you zero on the couch, and only distinctly hear yourself muttering “We’re almost there, one more step” with every step you take.

You fall into the couch, your hands automatically reaching for his face, hoping to understand what is going on. You’re met with his blood-shot eyes and tear covered face, his breath is shallow, and you don’t know what to do.

Jungkook throws himself into your embrace, and you finally hear what he’s been muttering like a mantra all this time, and the words “please don’t leave me all alone” only serve to make your own tears escalate.

“I need to call the ambulance” you cry out, only for Jungkook to hold you tighter and cry out no one after the other. His breathing gets worse, and you realize if he doesn’t calm down, he will pass out.

“Jungkook, breathe.” You loudly breathe in and out, caressing his head, and feel him messily repeat your actions. Every second seems eternity long, and you pray to whomever sits upstairs, that he will be alright. With heavy chest you watch how his breathing normalizes, and sobs turn to hiccups, your body deflates, and you rest your head against his.

You allow your heart to stabilize, carefully listening to his shallow breaths, “Do you have any calming meds?” you whisper in his hair. He detaches from your skin and looks up.

“Please don’t go.” He defeatedly whispers. You hush him and rest your forehead against his, “I’m here, but I need to make sure you’re alright.” Uncertainly he nods, and points towards the kitchen.

You get up from the couch and Jungkook grabs your hand, “Kitchen” you whisper, and see the relief in his eyes. The moment he lets you go, you rush towards the room, you shake your head, as the kitchen counters are filled with bottles of medication, pills scattered all over.

You search through the bottles; your home never looked like this, Jungkook is a perfectionist, he never left a single dirty dish out, but now the space is covered in dust, no sense of your family home present.

Picking the right bottle, you search for water, only to realize it’s not here. You open the fridge to find it empty as well. Praying for the best, you open the trash, and you know you’ve failed him. You turn to the couch, to see Jungkook watching you with tears still running down his face.

You want to cry, but now is not the time, with both of you unstable no good will rise, and he needs you now. You try to silence your mind and fill up a glass with tap water. Thankfully, his family kept the apartment running.

You return to Jungkook and press the glass and pill in his hands. Silently you watch how he follows your command and bend down to your purse to fish out your phone. “What are you doing” he panics besides you. Before he starts to hyperventilate again, you grab his hand and as softly as possible whisper, “Only ordering food, don’t worry.”

You notice how your hands shake around your phone, barely managing to order, before your phone drops to the carpet. You catch Jungkooks gaze, and you don’t know if you should, but you wish that you’d be wrong,

“Have you-” you swallow, and try to keep composure, “Have you eaten anything since you’ve been discharged?”

He doesn’t answer you but continues to stare. You take a deep breath and continue, “Have you drank anything?”

If Jungkook doesn’t decide to murder you for your betrayal, you’re sure that the silence will. The dark circles and blood-shot eyes encourages you to get to the bottom of this, “Slept?”

You search his eyes for an answer, praying that he’s too stubborn to answer, rather than cavalier enough to try and withhold the truth from breaking your heart further. But he simply stares, no emotion travelling past the deep mahogany eyes.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.” Is the only thing he whispers. He doesn’t break your eye contact, and you wonder, perhaps he truly wants to see your pain, enjoy the way his self-neglectance makes you feel like you’ve failed.

You take another look at his disheveled form, gulp down your emotions and turn to the stairs. “Where are you going?” one single step away from him, makes his voice shake in panic, and you wonder how’d you get to this place.

With a look over your shoulders, “Run you a bath”, Jungkook nods his head in understanding, and silently follows you. You turn to him once he reaches the staircase, unsure if he’s strong enough to climb it.

He pushes your outstretched hand away, and mutters “I can climb the stairs.” You send him an unsure gaze, but his eyes harshly move up the stairs, urging you to go in a silent command.

The house truly looks the same, only difference being the coat of dust over the space. Automatically you go into the master bedroom, even if you haven’t been in this house for years, your body still remember every nook and creaky board.

You expect the bedroom to look the same as well, but the bed is filled with your clothes, as if they were thrown around. You send Jungkook a questioning gaze, but the same void eyes greet you; you wonder if this is how it’s going to be, him looking at you with empty eyes.

It’s funny how the one you love, can be the reason of your anguish. You promised to love one another till your dying bed, but here you are, looking at each other with nothing but hurt and betrayal.

Silently you go into the bathroom and start preparing his bath. When you left, you were sure that was the last time you stepped a foot in this house, you wanted to start over, so you left everything behind.

Even if your past actions were rushed, now you’re thankful for them. Cupboards are filled with oils and bubble bath solutions, you have to take a double look to check the expiration dates, but you sigh in relief, as the gentle smell of lavender and chamomile fills the space.

The smell takes you back to when everything was perfect, ever since you two started dating, bath was a sort of escape from reality. After a stressful day at work, you lit the candles, and drowned in each other’s embrace in midst of bubbles. Spilled wine, kisses on shoulders, laughter, and bubble beards - that was the reality.

You help Jungkook step into the bath, and your breath hitches as you see the full extent of his fragile body; scars from the crash, and skin pressed right against bones, bones so prominent that you’re able to see how his sharp shoulder blades bulge when he moves, every single rib, and back bone.

Now this is the reality.

You pour water over Jungkooks hair, the black strands lightly tickle his shoulders, visibly grown out over the past few years. Surprisingly, he relaxes under your touch, head leaning against the bath while you massage shampoo into his hair.

He’s looking at you, but you try to ignore his gaze, as every time your eyes meet, you’re met with dark circles and red, puffy under eyes. The room falls silent, the only sound being the water trickling from his hair.

Jungkooks shoulders slowly relax under your touch, and you move to massage his neck, careful, observing his body language. But his body only further melts into your arms, and when he sighs, you’re sure you made the right call.

The main reason of your visit escapes your mind, you gathered his answer when he named called Tae, but the possibility of him being involved in the ordeal seems great. You keep in mind to check if there’s any correlation between them.

“When I was under, all I remember are sparks of warmth enveloping me,” you stop your movements and look at his face, how his eyes search the ceiling, as if they hold the truth to his misery, “But then it stopped, and coldness overtook my body. Conscious enough to feel like you’re about to wake up yet suffocating in coldness and loneliness.” He whispers, and your heart clenches at the tears clouding his eyes.

“I think it’s because of you - when you stopped visiting me. I think I felt it.” He tilts his head up to catch your gaze, and you stare at him in silence, no words able to bear the barrier of guilt. At times you’ve caught yourself regretting your decision, heart crying out for your ex-husband, missing his touch, and soothing kisses. But you could never regret meeting Tae, he’s been with you through it all, and you’ll be forever indebted for that.

You caress his cheek, and he looks at you lost in thoughts, but when he pursues his lips, you know somethings weighting his mind. “How did you meet him?” Your fingers freeze and you search his eyes confused, is he actually asking about your husband? No uncontrollable rage behind the words?

But he looks just as lost as you are, but you don’t miss your shot and cautiously murmur, “At the hospital. His mom was admitted, and we leaned on each other for support.” His face scrunches as if your words were physically hurting him.

“I’m so glad I helped you bond over my anguish.” He spits out, and his body tenses. You see the patterns of anger return, and desperately whisper, “Jungkook-”

“Save it.” His tone is final, and his clenched jaw combined with his stiff body should’ve been a warning for you to drop it; but he gave you a small bead of hope that everything might be alright, and you don’t want it to burn out.

“If you’d give him a chance, you’d see that he’s a good man” your words are rushed, and so are his actions. His shoulders move to his ears in disgust, and he jerks his body away from your touch, his back turned to you, “How the fuck can you talk with such ease about your affair?” his voice raises.

“The idea of him touching you disgusts me; do you actually want me to hurt him?” you watch helplessly how he pulls his hair. His voice breaks and body shakes, and you pull him back into your embrace by his shoulders.

Your body leans over the tub, and you back hug him; arms around his shoulders, as he’s pressed against your chest. “How can you do that to me? I love you, and you promised to be mine years ago. Does that mean nothing to you?”

His voice shakes and body sinks deeper under water, face pressed against your arms. You calm your own heart and brush your nose over his hair, smelling the gentle lavender. Water splashes everywhere, your top soaked, but you don’t mind, as you try to ground him.

“I love you with all of my heart,” you murmur against his wet strands, “Never forget that.”

You stay in each other’s embrace for a while; Jungkook cherishes your warmth like never before. Yes, he’s out of the void he’d been stuck in for years, but the feeling he told you about hasn’t faded.

The past week had been excruciating, he was alone in your home, in the place he should’ve felt the safest at. But void overtook his mind, coldness seeped under his skin, and he felt like he’s back in the cage he barely escaped from.

No matter how high he turned on the heating, his body was shivering from cold, and he awaited the day his body would freeze, and the pain would go away. Death seemed like an escape.

He realized this wasn’t his home, not really. His heart wasn’t bound to it, it was bound to you. And the further you were, the tighter the golden strings around his heart pulled, cutting off blood, and leaving him suffocating.

He detests the man who steals your warmth, who stole you from him. He doesn’t understand why you chose a farmer over him. Him, who does everything and beyond to fulfill your dreams, him, who painted the walls your favorite color, and made your forever home from stars that painted the sky golden.

Happiness doesn’t come to those who wait, it comes to those who fight for it. And he will fight for you. Physical alterations have never been his style, but if it comes down to it, he wouldn’t put it past him. But then again, he’s an attorney, and sometimes one has to use his advantage.

Silence is interrupted by a doorbell, slightly startled from the noise, you mutter, “Food must be here”. Before Jungkook manages to disapprove you quickly let go of him, and with a quick peck on top of his head, you’re flying down the stairs.

The moment felt too intimate even for you and moving out of his presence gives you time to collect yourself. You choose to ignore the confused look on the delivery-guys face; at this point you’re used to looking like a mess. Mascara smudged, hair tousled, clothes soaked. You simply smile and gather the bags from his hands.

Goosebumps cover your body due to the wet clothes, and your carry the paper bags away from your body, so they don’t get ruined as well. Jungkook awaits you in the bedroom, clean clothes on his back, and you watch how he gently removes your clothes from the bed and carries them into the walk-in closet.

You put the food down and follow him, the closet is still mostly full, not a single piece of clothing out of its usual habitat. Your fingertips traces over the elegant dresses, so soft to the skin like you’re touching a cloud.

Not so long ago this was your life, formal parties and theatre plays a part of your daily routine. Memory so far yet so tangible. And now you’re married to a farmer, overalls and dungarees is your daily routine. You don’t mind your life, found comfort in the routine of it; yet now, when you’re presented with the life you gave away, you can’t deny that at times you miss it.

“Here,” Jungkook hands you one of his t-shirts, “You must be uncomfortable.” Uncomfortable is an understatement, your skin irritated from the rough fabric, but he gives you his clothes in the midst of a full closet of your own. You bite back a remark and take it, quickly shooing him away to get dressed.

You pull the shirt over your head, all while not taking your eyes off of a particular dress. You take it off of the hanger and a smile graces your lips. This is the dress in which you announced your engagement; the red silk fabric reminds you of the sprinkles of champagne, and happily applauding family members. You take a closer look at the bodice and laugh, the maroon stain where Jungkook accidentally spilt his wine still visible, the day was too happy for you to be mad, you simply laughed it off.

Each of the pieces carry out a significance of your past life; the mahogany off-the shoulders dress for your first gallery exhibition, the elegant romper you wore for Jungkooks bachelors party, because yes, he refused to spend it without you. You’ve to pull yourself away from the memorial of your past, this isn’t real life.

When you come out of the closet, you sit next to Jungkook on the bed, and hand him a tray of soup – probably the best course of action, considering he hasn’t eaten in days. His hands shake around the spoon, his body exhausted from muscle extortion and sleepless days.

You look around the room, picture frames of your college days and wedding decorate the walls. Suddenly you can’t wait to go back to your husband, the overflow of memories overwhelms you.

A certain question keeps bugging you for more than a week now. You didn’t feel comfortable rising it in the hospital, Jeon judging stares left you relentless as it was, but this is Jungkook, you should be able to ask him anything, right? “Do you actually plan on suing the doctors?” you softly mutter as to not startle him with the hot brew in his hands.

He lowers the spoon and ticks his head, “If it wasn’t because of them, we wouldn’t be in this situation. Someone has to pay for it.” You watch how he continues to eat; to a certain extant you understand his stance, what wouldn’t you’ve done couple of years back for him to wake up.

But he wasn’t the one who spent every week crying on doctors’ shoulders, they offered you strength and compassion, and your consciousness spikes of you not being able to offer them the same in time of need.

Jungkook pushes the bowl away from him, and groans, “I can’t eat more. I feel sick.” He didn’t even eat half of the bowl, and you worry how fragile his body is, but you don’t push.

“Will you promise to eat more when you wake up?” he looks at you with a calculative gaze before he focuses on the bedsheets. “You won’t be here?” he emptily snickers “Am I your pity case?”

He still doesn’t understand. You grab his hand, and make him look at you “Jungkook, I love you with all of my heart,” you hope that the fierce look in your eyes confirms that, “But I have also promised to love him,” his face scrunches, and he looks away from you. Jungkook opens his mouth to cut you off, but you draw his head back to you and continue.

“I have signed a document stating that I will love him” you know that’s the last thing he wants to hear, but he has to understand you’re married, and your rightful place is to be besides your husband.

He shakes his head without saying a word, and falls into the pillows, “Like I said, someone has to pay for it.” You watch him and shake your head, he’s great at blaming everyone but you, for your own actions.

You put the food on the table, and climb back in the bed, remembering how hard it’s for him to sleep without you by his side. You draw the comforter over him and lie on your side watching him. He turns to you as well and intertwines your hands.

Neither of you speak, and you wait for Jungkook to close his eyes. But he fights sleep, and a droopy grin paints his expression, imagining him lying in the bed 7 years ago with his wife. But his stubbornness holds no strength to his prominent eye bags, and his eyes slowly close.  

Before he falls asleep, he whispers the lone thought eating his consciousness, “If you hadn’t married him, would you stay?”

Out of all the questions he’d asked, this is the easiest one. Without a second thought you whisper, “Always.”, and the last bit of stubbornness leaves his body, his smile increases, and he pulls your hands closer and kisses your knuckles.

His breath evens out and his cheeks form a pout as sleep invades his body. As peaceful as he looks, you can’t stop the unease creeping up your nerves. The view seems hauntingly familiar to his motionless body in the hospital.

You have to stop yourself from waking him up, just to check that the last week hasn’t been a fever dream, and he is, indeed back to life. You force yourself to stay put for a couple of more minutes, trying to prioritize his health over your discomfort.

But you feel uncomfortable leaving him like this, what if he awoke only for a moment, and will never be by your side again? You sit up, ready to quietly leave, but with one last look over your shoulder, you cave in and pinch him.

When he furrows brows from the unexpected sensory you breath out.

You contemplated leaving then and there, but guilt crept up your spine, like you were abandoning a lost puppy. Only in this scenario, the puppy is a grown adult, who’s begging for you to stay.

Standing by the door you take one last look at the apartment and decide you can’t leave it like this. Judging by Jungkooks exhausted state, you have more than enough time to rid this place of the painful reminders coating every inch of it.

You found some gloves in the kitchen and got to work. You didn’t stop till every corner gleamed and spent what little money you had on his groceries. Perhaps you haven’t made the best decisions, but you do care.

~

“He threatened you!” Taehyung looks at you flabbergasted, searching your eyes as to why you’re so careless of it.

You arrived home yesterday evening, and ever since then both of you have been arguing, neither willing to see the others POV. You told him the truth, Jungkooks distaste for Taehyung, his possible involvement in the lawsuit – you were honest and told him everything, and now you’re starting to regret that choice.

You drop your bag on the hallway floor, ready to leave the house and escape to your job, tired of the pointless arguing, “He’s lost, confused, what do you expect from him?” You never know how one might act in stressful situations, his life has turned upside-down; he missed out on most of his twenties – the time when one enjoys themselves, relishes the responsibility free life, and celebrates freedom. Of course, he’s lashing out.

“Not to threaten both of us, that’s for sure.” His words irk you; a sense of defensiveness comes over you, and you bite your cheek trying to calm down, “You don’t know him, he acts threatening, but his soul is gentle, he’d never hurt a fly.”

Taehyungs shoulders drop once he sees your pleading eyes; arguing has never been your pitfall, but these past weeks have been the most stressful of his life. Each muscle in his body is tense, ugly bursts of anger colored with desperation bubble in his chest. There is a reason why he vowed for better and for worse, you’re in this together.

Two letters fall from the doors mail slot and Taehyung bends down to grab them. You watch how he tears one of them open, while simultaneously hands you the other. Your name is printed on it, and you’re left confused when you see courts stamp next to it.

You’re about to open it, but before you manage to, Taehyung curses and you look up and meet his helpless gaze. “They’ve annulled my certificate till the court ends.” You purse your lips, trying to understand what he just said.

You move over to him and read the notice in his hands, “What does that even mean?” you look up and down from him to the letter, scared of the consequences that might entail, “That means hundreds of laid off workers, bankrupt business, and no income whatsoever. What are we supposed to do with court? All of our savings went into compensations, and no one wants to associate themselves with us-”

His words fade out as your gaze shifts to the letter in your own hands, you shoot daggers to it, and forcefully rip it open. Your eyes scan the text, and mutter “Oh my fucking god.”

At this, Tae stops his rambling, and when he notices court papers into your own hands, he nervously asks, “What?” You look up from the notice and clear your throat, “Um-”, you’re not sure where to being, your mind unable to process the information.

“It says that my divorce to Jungkook is annulled, as I have submitted forged documents,” his eyebrows scrunches and he shakes his head confused, “Wait what-”, but you’re not done, and you scan the other notice “And I'm being summoned to court as forgery is a criminal offence.”

“That’s not possible, I saw the doctors give you the documents with my own eyes!” his voice raises, but a particular symbol at the bottom corner of the notice gains your attention. You put both documents together to compare the stamps, and barely audible whisper “No fucking way.”

You snatch the documents from his hands, and when all the stamps match, you call out once more the only sentence your mind can muster, “Oh my fucking god!” You look at Tae in expiration and show the documents in his face.

“Bottom left. Under the prosecutor’s signature. Does the stamp remind you of something?” He takes the papers from your hands, and when he pursues his lips, and takes a double look at them, you know he’s got it.

“Is that…?” with a feigned laugh you finish his sentence, “Jungkooks company.”

You look at each other at a loss of what to do, when he said he had the power – he meant it. But never in million years did you think he would use his status against you, the corrupt ways of the law and one’s upper hand leaves you restless. Worst of all, he wants you to know it, he could’ve used any other company, one you wouldn’t recognize, and played his schemes unbeknownst to your knowledge.

But no, he wants you to know that he’s in power.

Unfortunately, you don’t see another choice but to fold under the pressure; your hands automatically reach for your pockets in search of your phone.

“Where is my phone?” Rushed you mutter, grabbing your purse to look for it there. Instead of answering, he asks, “What do you plan on doing?” Not finding it there you move to the coats rack, not minding if the jackets fall over in haste.

“I have to go to him. There’s no other choice.” Frustrated you sigh, and close to shout, “Where is my damn phone?!”

Taehyung comes up to you, and stops your actions, “Don’t go to him. We can fight this. We’ll take out a loan, and-” you interrupt him, “No one in their right mind will give us a loan. We’re already in debt as it is, you’re jobless, and my wage barely covers food. And now, we're both on trial.”

At that you groan, forgetting one crucial element, “Can you call my boss, I won’t be able to go in today. I still haven’t found my phone!” Taehyung stands silent, and after a while fishes out his phone to follow your command. He’s not able to rebut your words, he knows you’re right.

He puts the call on speaker, and after a couple of beeps your boss answers the phone, “Hi! It’s me. I know it’s a short notice, but something important came up, and I won’t be able to come in today. But I-”

“Save it. You have a week to collect your things, I have no use of a slacking employee. You’re fired.” With that she hangs up, and you’re left speechless looking at the beeping phone. You contemplate all of your life choices, when did life get so hard?

You look at Tae and drop your shoulders, “And now we’re both unemployed.”

He closes his eyes, and you see defeat written across his face when he moves to the windowsill and grabs your phone to hand it you. Quietly you thank him and drop it in your bag. Before you manage to step a foot out of the door, he calls after you, and you turn your head to look at him.

“He’d never hurt a fly, right?” He’s using your words against you, and you hate that he was right. But your blind love for your ex-husband left you fooled, and without a word you step outside.

~

You march down the hallway to Jungkooks apartment, hours you spent alone in your car only fueled your desperation. You didn’t bother calling him, somehow you felt like he knew you’d be there soon.

His door’s unlocked, and that only further proves your point. Not wasting a second, you walk through the apartment, and find him in kitchen cooking. This time he looks collected, hair in ponytail and clothes without a single crease.

He looks up from the cutting board and smiles, “I was wondering when you’d come by. I’m making your favorite, come, sit.” He points to the kitchen island, and you drop your bag on the table and move your hands on your hips.

“Why did you do that?” he washes his hands and looks at you questioningly. “Don’t pretend. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

He smoothly stirs the sauce in the pan and comforts you, “If you’re worried about the charges – don’t. I can take care of that once you move back in.”

You stare at him incredulous; how can he speak so calmly about it? “I’m worried about being called to court over procedures that aren’t even legal.”

“Submitting forged documents is a valid reason to being called in.” he ever so calmly states, and you feel your blood boil, “Every document I submitted is real. And I’m sure the doctors will testify so.” But he only smiles and shakes his head, and continues to stir the food, while cheekily clarifying, “Will they?”

You consulted five different specialists before proceeding with divorce, of course they’ll testify the same, as their answers broke your heart one after the other years back. You shake your head trying to figure out where he’s coming from, why wouldn’t they-

Till it clicks. “You threatened them. If they don’t comply, you’ll sue them.” Jungkook tilts his head and presses his lips together, “I don’t threaten people. I simply explained their options.”

Your mouth agapes, and you whisper, “This is insane, Jungkook.”

This gathers his attention, and he clicks his tongue and comes closer to you, “You said your affair is the only barrier between us. I got rid of the problem, you should be thanking me.”

“Marriage Jungkook! I’m not having an affair, I’m married.” You raise your voice and hit your chest. He never calls it what it is. A marriage. One you freely chose.

“No, it’s not.” His tone changes, and now you’re both angry. You recognize the deep tone, it’s the one he used in courts, not a single person willing to interrupt his matter-of-fact statements. “You’re lawfully married to me; your surname carries my legacy. Don’t ever compare me to your adultery.”

He might be right, but he seamlessly evades why you’re married to him – how he used his power to tie you to him. “I will fight this.” You bite back.

“Will you though?” you clench your jaw, “Because I don’t see you winning. Are you willing to sacrifice your boy-toy and his whole family for a fight you’ll never be able to win? Their business, which they created generations ago. Go against specialists, who will testify the same statements? Not to mention what resources you have; jobless, without a penny to your heart. Do you think that anyone will employ you, with a criminal record?”

Fighting back tears, you wince out, “How do you know that?” Seeing your glazed eyes, Jungkook stands in front of you, and pats your hair, “You live in a village. Words travel fast.”

Unable to hold it in, you sob, feeling trapped with the burdens of life dragging you down. His words ring through your head, and you know – he’s not a man of who’s words should be taken for granted.  

Your sobs increase once you realize – this is not a fight you’ll ever win. He pulls you into his embrace, and you scrunch his shirt in fists, hating him for dragging you into this mess, hating him for getting on that motorcycle years ago, and leaving you all alone. Hating him, for he was the one you promised your heart to – hating him, for not being able to hate him.

He rocks you from side to side, and shushes your cries, “You broke our vows, but I promise to patch them.” He detangles your hand from his shirt, and you don’t notice him pulling your ring off your finger.

The sound of something falling catches your attention, and you see the silver bands lying on the floor. You look up and see him slipping your wedding ring on your finger, the golden ornament shining in the light bright as ever, as if it had never gathered dust in the drawer.

Jungkook kisses your forehead finally satisfied, the golden strings tying you back to your rightful place. Back to him.

“For better or for worse, baby”

 ~

Hi! Hope you enjoyed this story, as always would love to hear your thoughts on it. And thank you so much for all of the attention preview got, hope it didn’t disappoint ☺️

I haven’t managed to edit it yet, wanted to publish it for all of you, as you’ve been waiting for awhile.

As always, thank you for reading, hope you stick around! 🌻

[amsgrey]

Clouds

resquested by @rainechase45

warnings: descriptions of a car accident/crash, reader sustaining mild injuries in said crash, mention of blood and broken bones (not in-depth), description of hypothermia + hypothermia-related symptoms, reader really just going thru it in every way, metaphors for death, very bad metaphor writing

Authors Note: I got about 2000 words into this before i remembered that americans have different cars to kiwis. Hopefully, any mistakes are fixed but if they're not, it's because kiwis drive on the left side of the road not the right. 

When you first got your driver's permit, Will and Jay wouldn't let you drive without them. Even though you had completed the course and passed the driving test, they still didn't want you driving alone. Which wasn't an issue really, when you didn't have your own car anyway.

Now you have had your license for almost ten months. Will let you borrow his car from time to time. Today was one of those days. A friend from school lived outside of the city and Will had let you borrow his car to go see them. The drive was only about 45 minutes, not too long with your music blasting. Will and Jay were both working late, so you stayed for dinner with your friend and then started the drive home. It was 7 pm at least by the time you hit the road. The temperature was already 8 °F and only grew colder.

You always hated driving at night and in the rain, but both at the same time was a nightmare. It wasn't just rain now, sleet came down so hard and fast your wipers hardly had time to keep up. Driving in these conditions was dangerous, even for experienced drivers. So you slowed down, turned down the music and tried to limit the distractions. If you crashed Will's car he would never let you drive ever again.

Even with the wipers at full speed and your high beam lights on, the sleet made it near impossible to see. There was no one else on the road, at least, not in front of you. There was an SUV behind you in the left lane, you caught glimpses of its shape through the sleet every now and again. They were going much faster than you were, steadily becoming a larger shadow in your mirror. Eventually, you could see their lights fully in your mirrors. You let out a grumble as you realized they too had their high beams on. Flipping the tab on your rearview mirror didn't change the fact the wing mirrors were blinding you too.

"What on earth," You groaned, the only other car on the road, the only one you had seen in the last 20 minutes was burning holes in your eyes.

Everything changed so quickly. The SUV was speeding up, gaining speed even against all the wind and sleet. Then the car was hydroplaning on the ice and sleet on the road, it swung out of control, swerving from their lane and into your own. You couldn't look away from the mirror, watching in horror as the car kept spinning out of control. It slammed into the side of your car, hitting hard against your door as it pushed you off the road. Both of your cars slid down a bank, only coming to a stop when there was nowhere else to go.

You could feel the seat belt cutting into your chest, you wanted to claw it away but it wouldn't budge. The glass from the now smashed window was cutting through your skin, on your face, your arm, even a few pieces had cut their way through your jeans.

The cold was what kept you conscious. It flooded into your car, breaking the bubble of warmth and ripping away any sense of comfort you had seconds earlier. You weren't sure if it was tears or blood running down your face, but either way, you tried to clear your mind. There was a first aid kit in the glove box, one Will had made, if you could reach it you could help yourself. 

You forced yourself to go through the checklist Will ingrained in you. Starting with your head, you made note of the concussion you likely had, then your neck, whiplash for sure. Your chest next, which was in pain from the seatbelt, but nothing else you could tell for now. Your left arm was broken, but that was a problem for another time. Your legs were squished, but you should move your feet and toes without any pain. That was as good as it was going to get, you had to get out of here. The longer you stay in here, with the sleet soaking through your clothes, the longer you put yourself at risk. 

With a bit of wiggling and stubbornness, you managed to unclip the seatbelt. It didn’t move much, but with it not so tight you could now push it away from you and start the process of wiggling out of your seat. You climbed over the center console, taking your time to avoid smashed glass or hurting yourself further. Once in the passenger seat, you pulled open the glove box, dragging out the kit and rummaging through it. You ripped open one of the gauze packets, pressing it to the left side of your forehead, the sting causing you to hiss. You continued anyway, forcing yourself to open the plastic package with a sling in it. You forced the knot over your neck. Sucking in a deep breath you forced yourself to move your arm into the sling, clenching your jaw in until the pain subsided. After ten minutes of breathing through the pain, you decided enough was enough. You had to move, even if you didn’t want to, you had too. 

Throwing open the door, you forced yourself out into the weather. The first aid kit stayed tucked under your arm so that you could help the other car. Walking up the incline was harder than getting out of the car, the pain from your arm and the other scrapes and bruises weighed you down. One step at a time. One foot after another. Eventually you made it to the driver's door. The windscreen was smashed, webbed cracks making it impossible to see through. You reached for the handle on the driver side, using it to steady yourself the last few steps then yanking it open. Inside, the driver was hunched over his steering wheel. 

“Hey,” You tried to shake his shoulder, but he didn’t respond, “Please, no.” 

You took a deep breath, then placed two fingers to the man's coritod, trying to calm the sound of your own heartbeat to feel the man. 

10 seconds passed. 

20.

30. 

Nothing. No Pulse. No Signs of Life. 

You pulled your hand away slowly, as if not to disturb him. 

“I’m so sorry,” You pulled away, stumbling a few steps back. 

By now, you could guess it had been almost half an hour. Half an hour in the sleet and rain, with no coat, no dry clothes. No one would be able to see you from the road, there was no barrier or break in a fence. No one could see you.  You were at risk, you knew any longer out here would kill you. You had to call for help. Forcing yourself to walk back down the slope to your car was hell. Your entire body shook, every time you took a step, your legs shook and you had to take extra time to steady yourself. When you finally got back to where you started, the passenger side door, you used your right arm to pull yourself back into the car. You had left your phone in the holder on the 

 There were no lights on in your car, nor the other one, so you had to search with light from the moon and strained eyes. You patted down the floor of the passenger side, nothing. Leaning over the console you tried the driver side. Avoiding the mangled parts was hard, no wonder your leg was scratched up and sore. Eventually your fingers found an irregularity, your phone face down on the ground. You yanked it up, pulling it to your face and trying to turn it on. With the screen facing you, you could see the damage. It was like it had been through a blender, the only intact part of the phone being your case. It was useless. A glorified paperweight. 

“Fuck!” 

40 minutes in these wet clothes. You had never been so cold in your life. It was as if there was no heat left in the world, the comfort of warmth was a fleeting memory. The aggressive shivering was making it hard to do anything, but you were more worried about what would happen when you stopped shivering. Growing up in Chicago, with a doctor brother, meant you heard all about how hypothermia could sneak up on a person. Most people didn't see it coming, didn’t know the signs. You were painfully aware of them. 

The racing heart. Tachycardia. 

The cold white fingers. Your body pulling blood from your extremities to protect your core.

Next it would be the brain fog, shock, the feeling of being overheated. There was no telling when it could strike. 

The other driver's phone. 

A lightbulb went off, literally. 

If you wanted to survive, you had to get back to the other driver. You had to fight. 

Finding the driver's phone felt like grave robbing. You could see it sitting in his cup holder. Some kind of miracle it hadn’t bounced out. You had to lean over the man to get the phone, trying not to move him or touch the blood that was staining his clothes. With the phone in hand, you gripped it with two hands to press the power button and activate the emergency call. You pressed the phone to your ear, it rang twice. 

“911, what is your emergency?” 

“I was in an accident,” You answered, “I need an ambulance.” 

“Can you tell me where you are?”

“I- I don’t know. I’m not shivering anymore. I’m not shivering.” 

Your arm dropped, phone tumbling into the snow on the ground. 

“It’s not cold anymore.” 

“Dispatch, we’re going to need a Medevac.” 

“Hey kid,” The paramedic was trying to keep you alert, “Not far from a hospital, okay?”

“It’s too hot,” You slurred, strapped to the gurney in preparation of the Medevac, covered in foil safety blankets. 

“I know, love,” The woman was so nice, her voice was so soothing. “Just hold on a little longer, yeah?” 

You could hear the sound of the helicopter approaching, a steady rhythm. It grew louder and louder. it  felt as if it was taking the rhythm from your heart, as the helicopter got louder you could feel your heart getting quieter. 

The deafening sound and the wind that came from the chopper made you feel like you were hallucinating. The whole time as you waited for help, half conscious in the snow. It was nothing much at first, shooting stars, the moon glowing brighter and brighter. Then it was Will’s voice, Jay’s humming. All the things that reminded you of warmth, of that all encompassing feeling. 

Holding onto your own consciousness was like trying to hold onto a cloud. You could just see it, sense it, but physically touching it, holding it… it was nearly impossible. 

A moment of clarity had you reeling it in, forcing your eyes open. 

Inside the chopper was just as loud. But more hectic. A symphony of chattering radios, yelling voices and beeping machines. 

“My brother,” You croaked. 

“Don’t speak, kid,” The Medevac paramedic was a different man, older than the paramedic from before. He looked like a dad. 

“My brother, Doctor Halstead… Chicago Med.” 

The man's face was out of focus, but you could see the realization on it. He knew what you were asking. 

He turned to the other body in the back of the shopper, the one that was just a blur of blue shapes, “Get him on the radio now.” 

He looked back at you, “What’s your name kid?” 

You whispered it back to him, voice raw and mouth dry. You felt like you were drenched in sweat. Everything was burning. The clouds in your mind were getting further and further away, but you forced yourself to hold tight to consciousness. You needed to talk to Will. You had to talk to him. 

“My name's Tom,” The paramedic was placing headphones over your ears, adjusting the mic so that your voice might reach it, “I’ve got you, alright, kid? Just take it easy.” 

The other person was speaking, explaining something. You could hear the bass of his voice through the headphones, like he was speaking inside your head. But he might as well have been speaking another language, because nothing he said made any sense. Your eyes were so tired, burning from the lights inside the chopper, even though you knew they were as low as they could go. Light flares made it impossible to focus, everything blending and swirling in a sickening live painting. Nothing was peaking through those clouds now. They were dark, cold, and sinister. The ones that roll through right before a thunderstorm, before everything went haywire. 

But then there was sun, a beam of warmth that basked you in calmness. 

“Hey, sweetheart.” Will. The warmth that kept you safe. 

If you had been in your right state of mind, you would be able to hear the strain in his voice, the pure anguish. But you didn’t. All your brain could comprehend was that he was there. 

“I love you,” You whispered, not sure if it would be heard. 

Tom repeated your words, mumbling something about numbers or stats dropping. 

“I love you too.” Will replied, “I love you so much. I will always-” 

Will cleared his throat, it registered somewhere in the very back of your mind now. He was crying. 

“I will love you, forever. No matter what happens, sweetheart.” 

Will didn’t call you sweetheart anymore. It was always squirt. Sweetheart was what he called you as a child, the nickname that fizzled out when you turned 10 and having a hovering older brother was embarrassing. Again, that feeling of warmth returned. The feeling of lying in the sun after a swim, letting it dry you and warm you slowly. It was calm, gentle, nurturing. The warmth that made plants grow and flowers bloom. That you had spent your whole life with. Will was the sun in your family. Warm, nurturing and oh so loving. Always there, reliable and steady. If Will was the sun, then Jay was the moon. That Light that guided you through the dark. The one that brought coolness, serenity and wiseness. Jay was the one that kept you calm. Taught you to stand on your own two feet, to fight. The moon was always there, every single night. Sometimes it hid, keeping its light hidden, but it was always watching. 

Your brothers, your lifelines. 

The steady thrum of the helicopter was growing silent. Replaced with a ringing that pulled you into a clear empty and dark sky.

There were no more clouds. There was nothing. 

Will was on the roof as soon as he got word the chopper was getting close. The fear and anxiety that ran through his blood was making it hard for him to focus. He was standing by with strict orders not to intervene. When Goodwin had heard what was happening, she had made sure WIll knew that he could not be involved in treatment at all. No matter what, he could only watch. 

“I got this, Will,” Marcel assured Will. Marcel was a brother, he knew what it was like to worry over his sister. 

“I know,” Will responded, the words meant nothing. Nothing anyone could say would stop the thumping of his heart, the fear in his veins. 

As the chopper landed, Will watched Marcel and the trauma nurses run in, a practiced team. The hand-off was smooth as it could be, then everyone was running back inside, headed to the ED. Elevator rides with patients were always slow and nerve racking, now was no different. The Helipad was only a few floors above the ED, the distance was hardly far enough to feel as long as it was. 

“Baghdad's free” Maggie called as they barrelled into the ED. Marcel started barking orders, calling stats, medications. Will had done the routine before, thousands of times. Now, watching from outside the room,everything felt foreign and new. 

Marcel and Trinny cut off your damp clothes, replacing them with warm blankets and heat packs. 

“Temp check?” 

“61.2. Heart rates dropping. 62, 56, 43…” 

Maggie grabbed Will's arm, pulling him back as the monitors flatlined. 

“Get me an amp of epi!” 

"Epi’s in.” 

“Hold compressions…” 

“No pulse.” 

“Resume compressions.”

Will looked at his watch, the minutes were ticking by. 

“Alright,” Crockett switched with Asher on compressions, taking a step back, “Temps up to 63…” 

“It’s been ten minutes,” Asher said through compressions, “Should we try ECMO?” 

Marcel turned to Will, not for permission, but to see if he was following. THe face that Marcel saw was full of hopelessness. This wasn’t Will Halstead the ED Doc, it was Will Halstead the big brother. 

“Maggie?” 

“On it, Marcel,” Maggie stepped away from Will barking her own orders at nurses. 

How is this happening? 

Nothing else could take up space in WIll’s mind. Why was this happening? 

This morning when you had left, you showed Will the weather forecast, telling him it would be cold and rainy, that you would take your time and go slow. He knew you would too. You hated driving in the rain, so you were always alert. 

This morning, you had dropped him at work and yelled out the window, “Don’t kill anyone!” Before cackling and driving away.

You were so full of life when he last saw you. 

Now all he saw was a limp body that shared your face. 

“Will?” Jay's voice from across the ED. 

Will wasn’t just your big brother. He was Jay's too. At that moment, he knew Jay needed him. 

Will stepped away from the treatment room, intercepting Jay before he could get too close. 

“Listen to me,” Will pulled him aside, grabbing his shoulders, “You don’t want to see her right now. Marcel and Asher are working on her, they have it handled.” Lies. They were lies, or half-truths, either way, Will didn’t believe them. 

“How did this happen?” 

The Halstead brothers didn’t cry much, but now the both of them were tearing up. The fear of losing the light of their lives was weighing them both down. 

“That’s not important right now,” Will forced himself to say, “Right now, all that matters is she is getting treatment.” 

Jay nodded, he pulled out of Will’s grasp and turned to Hailey. She had watched the whole exchange, but Will hadn’t seen her until now. She looked like she might cry too. The same thoughts circling in the Halstead brothers minds were circling in her own. 

“She’s strong,” Hailey croaked out, “She’ll be okay. When she wakes up, she’ll have us, and she’ll be okay.” 

Will smiled at his sister-in-law. She really meant it, her belief giving Will something tangible to hold onto. If Hailey saw the way out, he would too. 

“I got a pulse!” 

The beeping of machines never sounded so sweet. A steady even beat. 

Will hadn’t prayed in so long, but he let slip, “Thank you, God.” A silent prayer followed. 

Where there was once nothing, now there was a wide blue sky, littered with meager clouds. They weren’t the ones that looked like faces or shapes, they were so small that they almost blended into the sky. But they were there. You could see them, feel them. God help you, you were going to reach them. 

The sun was out today too, a warm glow that set the perfect temperature. A spring morning with the first blooming flowers. The moon was there too, a watery reflection against the blue. It felt so serene here. The sun was calling to you, warming you in its embrace. You chose then, this would not be your goodbye to the sun and moon. 

Opening your eyes was the hardest challenge of the day. It was harder than walking up that slope, or staying conscious in the helicopter. Your body screamed for sleep, but you were too stubborn. You had to see the sun. 

“Will, Jay, get in here.” 

A warm hand on the side of your face, another one cradling your hand so gently. 

“We’re here, sweetheart.” 

“We’re not going anywhere.” 

This time they were real. When your eyes focused, there were your brothers. Your warmth on a cold day, the light on a dark night. When your eyes fluttered shut again, you knew they would watch over you, keep you tethered. You weren’t fearful of what would happen this time, they were looking out for you.

[girlgenius1111]

young, drunk, and alone

putellas!reader, infuriates her sister when she sneaks out and gets drunk with her friends. alexia comes to realize that maybe, this is a result of her pushing you too hard.

angst + fluff. brief mentions of blood and vomiting. and alcohol consumption. this is literally 6k word essay on how silly sisters can be.

-----

Sneaking out hadn't been your best plan. Was it really sneaking out if you slipped right out the front door? You weren't sure. Alexia and Olga were heavy sleepers, and because you had the following day off, you figured it was as good a time as any. You were planning on meeting up with some friends from school and going to a club. You didn't drink much; a combination of being a professional athlete, and someone named Alexia, who happened to be your very strict older sister.

You probably should have paced yourself. You also probably should have not run away from your friends, especially when you were blitzed out of your mind. You weren't quite sure where you were, or how long it had been since you'd bolted from the club. Or how many drinks you'd had.

You'd broken one of your... well, one of Alexia's heels, and you carried both shoes in one hand. You were really sleepy all of a sudden, and you spotted a bench a few meters ahead. You headed there, plopping down on the bench before pulling your phone out of your pocket. The screen swam in front of your eyes, and you couldn't figure out if your hand was moving, or if your head was moving. Something was, that was for sure.

You were somewhere. Somewhere in the city of Barcelona. You needed some help, though.

And you knew just the gal to come get you. Alexia could find anyone, but especially you; she had your location.

The phone began to ring, and you heard your sister's grumpy voice come over the line shortly after.

"Why are you calling me from inside the same house?" She said groggily.

"Aleeeeexiaaaaaa!" You sang, proud of yourself for solving your problem all on your own, especially while the earth was spinning so much faster than normal.

"Nena. You better be in your room right now." Alexia said through clenched teeth. You could hear her shuffling, and Olga speaking to her quietly.

"'M not in my room, Ale, sorry." You heard your door bang open, then, and Alexia confirm what you'd just admitted.

"I am going to kill you to death." Alexia warned. "Where are you? Are you safe?"

"I'm not totally sure where I am. There's a road... ooo and a bench. And I think a building. D'you know where I am?"

"My god. You don't know where you are?" Alexia cried, shaking off her girlfriend's advice to calm down.

"Nope. D'you?" You slurred.

"How would I know where you are!?!?" Alexia shouted. There was more shuffling, and Olga's soothing voice replaced Alexia's.

"Nena, Ale has your location. We're going to come get you now. Stay where you are, okay?"

"Yes ma'am." You said, saluting to the thin air in front of you. You hung up then, though you forgot to say goodbye, and awaited your sister eagerly.

-----

"I am going to kill her." Alexia seethed, driving well over the speed limit on the way to your little dot on her screen.

"You can kill her later, let's just make sure she's safe first." Olga sighed.

"This is Alba's fault. Or Mapi's. Or Pina and Cata's. I will find the culprit, and I will make them run so many laps..."

"She's right there," Olga interrupted, pointing to the park bench where you were sitting, looking blankly at your sister's car.

Alexia threw the car and park, and moved to throw her door open, but stopped when her girlfriend grabbed her arm.

"Alexia, she's drunk. She's not going to remember any of this tomorrow, so be nice now. You can yell later, yes?"

"Fine." Alexia sighed. She got out of the car, as did Olga, and they approached you carefully.

"ALE!!" You cheered, standing and tripping forward dangerously as you tried to tackle your sister in a hug.

"Hi." Alexia said evenly, easily catching you and helping you back upright.

"Thanks for comin' to get me," you slurred, slumping into your sister.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get you home nena."

"OLGA!!!" You yelled suddenly, turning and seeing your sister's girlfriend biting back a smile at the sight of you. You were gone. Completely gone.

"Hey nena." Olga said kindly, opening the door to the backseat for you. Alexia barely got you buckled in before you toppled completely over, now laying horizontally across the back seat.

"Ow." You said quietly. Again, Olga had to try really hard not to laugh, turning to her girlfriend, who just look exasperated.

"Maybe I should sit back there with her." The brunette suggested.

"I think that might be best." Alexia agreed, walking around to the drivers side and getting in. She looked in the rearview mirror, seeing you completely slumped on her girlfriend's shoulder, eyes already shut. It melted her heart, just a little, how much you loved Olga, and how much Olga loved you. Still, her overarching feelings right now were anger and frustration.

-----

Once Alexia had carried you from the car, deposited you on your bed, and placed a trash can and a bottle of water within your reach, she grabbed your phone, texting your friends that had clearly not been keeping an eye on you that you were home safe. She then stomped back into her room, throwing herself dramatically onto her bed.

"What was she thinking? Is she stupid? Is she the stupidest person on earth? She has to be."

"Ale, calm down." Olga said, following her in and shutting the door behind her. "Go to sleep. Deal with it tomorrow."

Alexia sighed, laying back down under the covers, before looking over to her girlfriend. "Thank you for coming. And for taking such good care of her." She said quietly.

"Always." Olga promised, pressing a light kiss to Alexia's lips.

-----

The next morning found you not laid in bed until the afternoon like you would have hoped. Instead, Alexia had dragged you out of bed at 9am, which she felt was pretty generous, threw some training clothes at you, and drove over to the Barça grounds. She had to pull over once for you to get out and throw up, but even though you were sweating, exhausted, your head was pounding, and your stomach churning, Alexia was unrelenting.

Olga was still asleep when Alexia had left with you, and you had wondered if you could text her discreetly to put an end to this before it started. Alexia had taken your phone hostage though, so that was a no go.

Now, Alexia had you running sprints. You thanked god above that it was a chillier, cloudier day, but running while you were violently hungover was still... a form of torture. She'd found a whistle, somewhere, and anytime you stopped running, she blew it at you, making the pounding in your head worse.

You managed to last 15 minutes before you stopped a few feet away from her, looking at your sister pleadingly.

"Ale, I'm gonna throw up," you warned.

Alexia's was unflinching, sunglasses down over her eyes as she stood, hands on her hips, watching you.

"I'm not stopping you." She said coldly, gesturing for you to do so.

"Ale, please," you whined.

"If you didn't want to run sprints hungover, you shouldn't have snuck out and gotten drunk." Alexia told you.

You turned away from her, throwing up what little water you'd managed to drink so far. When you were done, you turned back, finding Alexia directly behind you, holding out a sports drink.

"Drink." She instructed. You took it, chugging the whole thing as you held back a gag, knowing if you could keep any of it down, it would be somewhat helpful.

Things continued like this for another 10 minutes, until you were sure Alexia was going to keep you going until you passed out.

In fact, Alexia was just about to call it, not wanting to completely kill you, when she heard her name being shouted from just behind her.

"Alexia, what are you doing to that poor girl?!" Mapi yelled, marching towards her friend, while Ingrid broke into a run, heading towards you. You'd fallen to your knees, retching pathetically onto the grass, even as nothing came up.

"She snuck out and got drunk." Alexia dismissed, looking concerned at the sight of you on the ground, trembling violently in Ingrid's arms. Mapi grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around.

"Alexia. This is really harsh, even for you."

"Good. Maybe she'll learn her lesson." Still, Alexia couldn't help her gaze flicking over to where you were. You were okay, she was sure. She knew what you could take, and what you couldn't. You'd drink some water, take a cold shower, and sleep the rest of the day.

Mapi looked disapprovingly at her captain. "Maybe that would have taught you a lesson. I'm sure there are more effective ways of talking to your sister about this, than attempted murder."

"She's fine. I know her limits, and so does she. If she was really not well, she would have just stopped."

You wouldn't have. You knew your sister was furious, and you would have done anything to fix that. Anything. If it meant running until you dropped, so be it. Alexia didn't think you'd push yourself that hard, though. She way underestimated the lengths you would go to for her approval.

"Anyway, what are you doing here? It's an off day." Alexia questioned, beginning to walk towards you.

"Ingrid wanted to work on a few things." Mapi said.

They reached your side, and Ingrid looked up sternly at your sister, a glare set on her face.

"Ale, can we go home?" You asked pathetically. You were completely pale, covered in sweat, and you were shaking all over.

"Yeah. Let's go." Ingrid helped you to your feet, holding you steady as Alexia wrapped an arm around you, and began walking you towards the exit.

"Should we call child protective services?" Ingrid wondered sarcastically, watching Alexia drag you back to the car.

"Nah. She's 19. And Alexia will have to deal with Olga when she gets that poor kid home."

----

And have to deal with Olga, Alexia did.

She helped you into the house, the AC in the car and the endless supply of water Alexia had for you helping tremendously. You felt more alive now, and honestly, you must have sweated out a lot of the alcohol, because you didn't feel that bad.

You were still shaking, though, still pale. Alexia cringed internally when she heard Olga's feet quietly making their way towards the front door, as she helped you pull your shoes off.

"Alexia." Olga gasped. "What did you do, take her to get run over by a truck?" She walked forward, easing you away from your sister, and towards the living room, shooting her girlfriend a harsh glare over your shoulder.

"No. We had a workout to do." Alexia said casually.

"Nena, are you okay?" Olga asked softly.

You smiled up at her, relaxing back into the couch. "Yep. I thought she was going to kill me for a bit, but she didn't."

Olga sighed. You were back to joking, back to pretending that Alexia's behavior didn't bother you. Back to acting like you didn't need more support from her. This needed to stop. Now.

"Drink some water. We can try to get some food in you in a bit. Alexia, come with me." Olga's tone left no room for conversation as she headed up the stairs towards their room. Alexia didn't listen immediately to a lot of people, but Olga was one of them.

She trailed after her girlfriend a little hesitantly. She knew she'd taken it too far. She hadn't done any damage to you, but it was still too far. And Olga was about to give her hell for it. Which likely, she deserved. Alexia was stubborn, though, and she wouldn't admit to being wrong without a bit of a fight.

"Are you crazy? What were you trying to accomplish, Ale? Whatever you made her do was overkill. You didn't need to take it so far-"

"NO. She is my baby sister, and she is off getting drunk and getting lost, and-" Alexia interrupted, suddenly furious again.

"Alexia, she's 19. This is what 19 year olds' do." Olga defended.

"Not HER. She is supposed to be responsible. She is an athlete, she has responsibilities, she has people relying on her-"

Olga cut her off again. "God, amor, I cannot imagine why'd she'd feel the need to go get drunk. That doesn't seem like a lot of stress on a teenager at all."

Alexia was quiet for a moment. "If she was stressed, she would tell me. If it was too much, she would tell me." She said, though she sounded suddenly unsure.

"Would she?" Olga wondered. "You're pretty strict with her, baby. Maybe she doesn't need Stern Alexia, and tough love all the time, maybe she just needs love." This had been swirling around in Olga's head for the past few weeks, though she wasn't sure how to bring it up to her girlfriend. She'd watched as you would wilt when Alexia would give you a simple 'good job' after a game, directly followed by all the things she thought you could improve. She watched you do things, and instantly turn to your sister, to see if she was impressed or not. If Alexia was, she never let it show.

For Alexia, sternness, rigidness worked for her. She didn't need people to be soft with her, to tell her all the time that she was doing a good job, so she assumed you didn't either. Olga could tell, though, that every time Alexia ruffled your hair instead of giving you a hug, shook off your request to something fun instead of reviewing match footage, it crushed you, just a little bit.

Olga wasn't surprised that this had happened, not at all. You were acting out, trying to burn off some stress while also trying to get your sister's attention.She hoped it would finally make her girlfriend understand that you needed more from her. You were young, living away from your mom, and you needed someone to care for you, not just push you. You wanted that from your sister, too, although you were always appreciative of everything that Olga did for you.

Their argument fizzled out, and Olga realized Alexia needed space to think. She left her there to do so, heading back downstairs to check on you.

-----

You and Alexia didn't speak of the incident in the days following. You could tell something had changed, Alexia was being... different with you. Less intense.

You thought she was just really angry. Which was fair. You'd been stupid and irresponsible. She had every right to be angry. You decided to let it pass, to not push her into forgiving you sooner.

You didn't realize that Alexia was rethinking the entire dynamic she had with you, the role she played in your life. She noticed, suddenly, that you weren't as affectionate as you had been before. You didn't sit close to her on the couch when you watched TV together. You didn't pull her into a hug when you saw her. You didn't talk to her when you were upset after a game. You didn't immediately look for her when you got hurt. She'd been so focused on being the coach that she thought you needed that she'd forgotten to be the sister that you'd actually needed.

She could be your mentor without pushing you so hard, Alexia had realized. You didn't need another coach. You needed your sister. Alexia just wasn't sure how to fix what she'd broken.

When she did figure out how to fix it, it came naturally to her. It was suddenly instinctual, again, the strong feeling within her to take care of you, not push you to be better.

-----

The first time you got some idea that Alexia was making an effort to be different was a few days after The Incident, as you and Olga had named your adventure. You were coming back from seeing your friends; the very same friends you had gone out with. It had started off fine, everyone joking around about your disappearing act. As the conversation continued, though, it became clear to you that a few of them had seen you leave by yourself, and not bothered to go after you. And they had all been significantly less intoxicated than you were.

They tried to excuse their behavior by telling you they were distracted by various people they'd met up with at the club. When you pushed, asking why no one thought to keep an eye on you, or go after you when you ran out, especially after they'd been pushing drink and drink on you, enjoying how increasingly absurd you got, they got defensive. They lashed out, going on and on about how you should have been responsible, and it wasn't their job to babysit you. You knew that, but at the same time, anything could have happened to you when you ran out of the club. It was a miracle that nothing did. The argument escalated into a full blown fight, until you were shouting back and forth at each other, bringing up issues that were long resolved.

Eventually, you stormed out, walking the 15 minutes back to your sister's house, angry tears falling from your eyes. Your friends weren't the best friend's a person could have, you knew this. They were your only friends outside of football, though, the only friends that were truly your's and not also your sister's. That's probably why you kept them around so long, and you never would have thought they would care so little about your safety.

The words exchanged had been harsh, and you knew as you neared home that there was no salvaging those relationships. You were upset, everything hard about the week catching up with you. You just hoped that when you walked through the front door, Alexia and Olga would both be too busy with various tasks to notice how upset you were. Alexia hated your friends, and you knew she would tell you that what happened was for the best. That was absolutely not what you needed to hear, now, though.

You opened the door as quietly as you could, slipping your shoes off and carefully placing your keys down on the little table near the door. You turned to walk up the stairs, jumping slightly when Olga was suddenly standing directly behind you, looking at her phone.

"What do you want for dinner? Your sister and I can't agree," Olga asked, growing quiet as she looked up, spotting how upset you were. "What's wrong?" The brunette's face grew sympathetic, and you ignored how it made you want to cry.

"Nothing." You told her, dodging her attempt to rest a hand on your shoulder, and slipping up the stairs. You shut the door to your room. It was a mess in there, it was past time you cleaned it; and, anyway, you needed to do something to get your anger out, and furiously cleaning seemed like as good of an idea as any.

-----

Downstairs, Olga was conflicted. Normally, she would take this, as the more emotionally available adult in the house. She knew that you didn't want her comfort, though, not in the way you wanted your sister's. And Alexia had clearly been taking to heart what her girlfriend had told her, being noticeably different with you, even if she hadn't figured out quite how to act. So, Olga slipped off to the office, knocking and entering when she heard her girlfriend's voice beckoning her inside.

"Hey, beautiful," Alexia said, smiling from behind the desk. Olga smiled in return, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"Your sister just got home from seeing her friends and I think something happened, she was really upset."

Alexia rolled her eyes. "They suck, I'm not surprised. Is she okay?"

"She ran off to her room, but she was crying." Olga replied, watching her girlfriend's expression carefully. Alexia looked conflicted, like she wasn't sure what to do.

"I'll go check on her." The blonde said finally, receiving an encouraging smile from Olga. She stood and headed towards the stairs, pausing when Olga stopped her.

"Just a tip. Telling her that her friends suck probably won't make her feel better. Even is she's mad at them. Just try to be nice." Olga suggested.

Alexia nodded, continuing on her way. Her girlfriend was more than a little amused at how nervous the blonde seemed. It was just you.

For Alexia, though, she didn't really know how to make you feel better. What would have worked for her was clearly not working for you, she saw that now. You were so different from her, so much more sensitive. She was nervous because she didn't want to say the wrong thing. She didn't realize, however, that any attempt she would make would be greatly appreciated by you.

Alexia knocked on your door, feeling a little ridiculous at how nervous she was, opening the door tentatively when you told her to come in. You were pacing around the room, folding clothes and putting things away, even as a few tears remained falling from your eyes. You looked furious as you cleaned rather aggressively, not acknowledging your sister when she walked in the room.

"Hey, nena?" Alexia called after a minute of watching you fold a shirt like you would have preferred to set it on fire. You hummed in response, still not looking towards her. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened." You snapped, moving on to another shirt, throwing the recently folded one down on the bed, huffing in frustration when the action messed up your meticulous work.

Deciding not to second guess her instincts, Alexia strode forward, taking the shirt out of your hands and setting it on the bed. She turned you so that you were facing her, placing her hands on your shoulders. You still wouldn't meet her eyes, and you were a good few inches shorter than her, but she could still see your angry resolve cracking, your bottom lip beginning to quiver.

You didn't want to cry in front of her, not over the friends of yours that she hated. It was a waste, and you knew she wouldn't give you the sympathy that you wanted. That just wasn't how Alexia was.

"C'mere," Alexia said softly, wrapping her arms around you and bringing you into a tight hug.

Until this point, Alexia wasn't sure she quite understood what you needed from her. The second you melted into her arms, though, like a hug was all you'd needed, it became very clear. Olga was right; you'd just needed love.

Your shoulders were shaking with silent cries, as if you were trying to keep them quiet, and Alexia frowned, arms squeezing you tighter.

"You can cry, cariño, if you're upset. It's okay to cry." She whispered. Admittedly, expressing emotion wasn't something she was good with. She hadn't realized the effect this had on you expressing your emotions before now.

You cried into your sister's shoulder, no longer holding back after her words of encouragement, for a solid 5 minutes. Alexia didn't shy away from the display of feelings like you expected her to. Instead, she sat you on the side of your bed, carefully wiping the remaining tears off your face with the sleeve of her sweater.

Still sniffling pathetically, you looked down at our hands, not sure if you should tell her what happened, if she'd want to hear. Alexia caught your hesitation, sitting down next to you, and bumping your knee with hers. "Tell me what happened."

You took a deep breath, before launching into the story. Alexia grew tense next to you, clearly with anger, but you weren't sure who it was directed at. If it was at the reminder of how irresponsible you'd been, or if it was at your friends. When you finished, Alexia was quiet for a moment, trying to figure out what to say.

"They suck." She said finally, before shaking her head at herself. "No, Olga told me not to say that. You deserve better friends than them, especially if their are so unconcerned with your safety and wellbeing. What if you hadn't had your phone? What if something had happened? I wouldn't have known where you were, you could have been hurt." Alexia went on, growing more agitated.

"I'm sorry, Ale," you told her.

"No, no. I am angry with them." Alexia said earnestly. "For being so careless with you. They should have been looking out for you. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to you, but I probably would have started with ruining their lives."

Protective Alexia wasn't a side of your sister you'd seen in a while. Not since you were 11 and you'd told her that a boy had tried to kiss you on the playground. She'd skipped training to march to your school, asking you to point out the boy. You had, and she'd held him up against the brick wall of the building by the collar of his shirt, warning him to never so much as look at you, ever again. He was appropriately terrified, and no one tried to mess with you again after that.

It was nice, feeling protected by your sister. It felt safe. It made you feel loved.

-----

Even after the conversation about your friends, Alexia still didn't acknowledge that something had changed.

Until after a rather rough match against Atlético. You were having an off day, your passes not connecting, your shots just barely missing the back of the net. She could tell you were frustrated, and she wasn't sure how to make you feel better. Normally, she'd give you a pat on the back, tell you to push through and focus. Alexia realized now, though, that you didn't need that from her.

Still, it was the middle of the match, and there wasn't time for a pep talk. She'd have to wait until the match was over, and then she could figure out what to say to you. Now, she needed to focus.

Alexia did focus. She focused on taking the corner, watching the ball sail towards your head. She focused on Lola's gloved hand extending towards the ball, and connecting squarely with your face. Alexia saw you drop to the ground, clutching tightly to your nose. The whistle blew immediately, and half the team was looking down at you uneasily, waving urgently for the medical staff. Lola was crouched by your head, clearly making repetitive apologies.

Normally, when you got hurt, Alexia kept her distance. She didn't want to suffocate you, and she didn't want to act unprofessional. On the pitch, you were teammates. Appearances didn't matter, though, not really, and she could be your older sister too, she knew.

Alexia sprinted to you, shoving players of both teams out of her way in her quest to get to your side. Lola saw her barreling towards her, and wisely backed up, leaving the spot just above you open, while the medics were arriving on either side of you.

You were still on your stomach, clutching tightly to your face, feeling hot blood seep into your hand. It was broken. You'd heard the crunch. And, like always when you got hurt, you wanted your sister to come hold your hand. You knew she wouldn't. She had to be professional, she had a reputation to protect. You were surprised when her soft voice met your ear.

"Hey, nena, can you roll over for us?"

Although your position smushed into the turf felt like the most comfortable you could get currently, you slowly rolled onto your back with a groan.

"Oh, honey," Alexia whispered, taking in the sight of your very broken nose, blood pooling all over your face.

"Broken," you mumbled, the movement of speaking hurting, blood filling your mouth. So as not to allow you to choke, Alexia and one of the medics carefully sat you up, tipping you forward, allowing your nose to drip into the towel being help against your face.

"She's right, I heard it break," Lola added, still hovering near you. It had been completely accidental, what she'd done, and she felt guilty. She backed up, though, when Alexia shot her a harsh glare.

"Are you dizzy? Nauseous? Are you going to pass out?" Alexia asked anxiously, knowing that you weren't a fan of blood. The medics exchanged amused looks at your suddenly overbearing sister, as you looked at her, less amused, and slightly comforted.

"No. Fine. Hurts't talk." You got out, closing your eyes as the pain intensified. Alexia's hand rubbed circles into your back, and you were floored when she pressed a kiss to the top of your head, right in front of the entire stadium, before looking to the medic for permission to help you to your feet. When he nodded and grabbed your other arm, they got you up, supporting you all the way to the sidelines, where another medic took over for you sister.

"Should I tell Jona to take me off?" Alexia asked you, still glued to your side, even as you neared the tunnel.

"No, go win." You spit some blood onto the ground, barely managing the words, and Alexia agreed uneasily, watching you all the way back inside.

The rest of the team was looking at her like she had two heads. Never before had they seen her be so nurturing with you, so outwardly worried. Alexia loved you, no one doubted that. She was just normally much more reserved about showing affection for her youngest sister.

-----

By the time Alexia got back to the locker room post match she was startled to see that you weren't in sitting in front of your locker waiting for her, or with the team doctors. They informed you that Olga had taken you home. You had a slight concussion, and your nose was broken, but didn't need to be reset, and you didn't want to wait for most of the second half to finish for your sister, so when Olga offered to take you home, you took her offer gratefully.

She sped through her shower and her post match routine, continuing to ignore the surprised expressions on her teammates face, and the rather satisfied one on Mapi's; the defender was finally seeing the return of the Older Sister Alexia she knew.

Alexia arrived home, abandoning her bag in the car and rushing inside. She wanted to make sure you were okay, more than anything. More than anything. It was like she'd just remembered that she was your sister, not just your captain, and her instinct to protect you was overwhelming her.

She marched right into the house, finding you laid on the couch, your head resting in Olga's lap an ice pack held over your nose by your sister's girlfriend, who was telling you an animated story about the crazy fan she'd run into in the stands today.

"Nena," Alexia sighed, feeling slightly better at the sight of you, more or less in one piece.

You sat up, still rather confused at the complete 180˚ your sister had done. "Hi." You had a rather disconcerting lisp to your speech, your lip swelling from the contact with the opposing goalkeeper's glove.

Alexia sat right next to you, removing the ice pack, and inspecting your face carefully.

"Does it hurt?" She asked.

"Not as much now. The ice is helping."

"Have you eaten? Taken anything? You should drink a lot of water, and ice every 15 minutes, and make sure you sleep propped up on a pillow, and we should go to the dentist tomorrow, just to make sure your teeth are okay." Alexia rambled, gently nudging your lip up to look at the swollen gums surrounding your upper front teeth. "Are they loose? If they're loose, we should go to the dentist now."

You exchanged a look with Olga. You were rather confused, while she just looked pleased with herself.

"They're not loose. I feel fine, Ale, and I ate some pasta. I think I'm just going to go to bed, I'm really tired."

You stood, keeping the ice pressed to your nose, catching the slightly frantic look on your sister's face. "You'll wake me up if it hurts, or if something is wrong, right?" She questioned.

"Yeah, if you want me to." You told her.

She nodded, relieved. "I would like you to."

"Okay. Goodnight, guys." Before you could step away from the couch, Alexia was standing and pulling you into a gentle hug, being extra careful with... your entire face. She kissed your forehead, before shooing you off towards the stairs.

Bewildered but pleased with your sister's odd behavior, you headed for bed, hoping that Alexia would be more normal, if still just as caring, tomorrow.

-----

You knew that was out of the question when your door opened softly an hour after you went to bed. You turned, not having fallen asleep yet, seeing your sister stood in the doorway, a blanket in hand, worrying her lip between her teeth.

"What's up?"

"Can I sleep in here? I'm worried about your face, I can't fall asleep." Alexia admitted, taking one step forward before pausing, looking anxiously at you.

You blinked at her for a minute, wondering if this was some kind of bizarre dream where your sister had undergone a personality transplant, before nodding.

"If you want," you agreed, scooting over to make room for you sister. She climbed onto the bed eagerly, smiling at you. You smiled back, wondering if it was possible that your sister was on drugs. She took several minutes to get comfortable, settling under the covers before turning on her side to face where you lay on your back, eyes closed. You could feel her watching you.

"Alexia you can't sleep in here if you're going to stare at me all night like a psychopath." You said, not opening your eyes.

"Sorry, sorry. I'm just worried. I'll stop now." Alexia promised, rolling onto her back too.

You didn't say anything for a moment, not wanting to ruin the very sweet moment you were having with you sister, but also feeling curiosity burn through you.

"You're being really weird." You said finally.

Alexia sighed, like she'd known this was coming.

"Am I dying or something and no one bothered to tell me? Is that why you're being so nice to me?" You were only half joking. Alexia sighed again, and somehow, it sounded guilty. "Am I?" You asked, opening your eyes and looking at the blonde.

"No, idiota, you aren't dying. I'm just... I'm trying to be a better sister."

You heard all the time that your sister was awkward, but you'd never really gotten that vibe from her until now.

"Oh. Okay. You're a good sister already, Ale." You said gruffly, looking away from her.

Alexia blinked at you. "Well, I'm glad you think so, but there is always room for improvement. You shouldn't be surprised when I'm nice to you, or take care of you. That should be normal."

"Thanks." You said after a minute, clearing your throat. You hated when Alexia was so nice it made you cry. Hated it.

"You don't have to thank me. I love you, hermanita." Alexia said, and there was no mistaking the vulnerability in her voice.

You were so going to tell Alba about this, and make fun of Alexia endlessly for being so bad at human emotions. For now, though, you rolling into her side a little, resting your head on her shoulder.

"I love you too, Ale."

Alexia smiled to herself. God, she normally hated when her girlfriend proved her wrong, but this time, it had been so needed. She was greatful for Olga, and for you, for being so forgiving. It was very youngest sister of you, never holding a grudge. She loved you. A lot. She was going to be better about showing it.

-----

this got out of hand i won't lie.

hope you enjoyed :)

[cinnamonest]

how about delinquent childe x student reader…

BULLY AJAX BULLY AJAX

Literally the textbook example of “he's mean to you because he likes you and doesn't know how to express it!” thing.

From your perspective as another student in your small little town, you know he's a bad kid because of his notoriety with the school's parents. Each tells their kids to stay away from that boy, that no good will come from associating with him. You hear your parents mumble about how much they either pity his parents, how hard it must be having such a problem child, or chastising them, playing armchair psychologist as they theorize how a kid can turn out like that and wagering that it must be the parents’ fault somehow.

He ticks all the boxes that sets stricter parents into a frenzy — a history of arrests, smoking and drinking and skipping classes and failing grades. They all say they've seen that boy going double the speed limit on the rural roads, stealing alcohol from local stores, and how he put so-and-so who lives down the road's boy in the hospital, and gave so-and-so from church's boy a black eye and a broken leg, and how that teacher he attacked in eighth grade got a concussion so bad he's never been quite the same since.

But you know how awful he is firsthand, anyway. For whatever reason, unfortunately, you're picked to be his favorite victim. With other kids, it's all casual and opportunistic, getting into fights and finding amusement in tormenting others when he's bored and an opportunity comes, but for you, he goes out of his way to make your school life suck, from the time you're kids.

It's not until someone says it — maybe he just likes you, you know? — that you consider it… but even so, it reaches a point where you find it difficult to believe, and regardless, you don't care, you've come to hate him regardless of motive.

It's not like he's someone you'd date anyway, seeing as he's… well, not a good person. You like to think you have some strict standards of caliber of personal character.

The only thing that gives credibility to the theory that he's being affectionate is just how constant it is. Normally, bullying is largely opportunistic — they take opportunities when they arise, but it's not as common for bullies to go out of their way to find their victims, or if they do, not often.

Ajax, on the other hand, is a perpetual menace — to you, at least, even if his behavior towards other people mimics the pattern of normal bullying. But with you, it feels like every waking second of your life, he's dedicated to coming to find you and torture you.

Then there's the nature of the bullying — when you were little, it was tugging on your hair, tearing apart erasers and throwing the little bits at you from across a room.

The older you get, the more sensual it gets — groping you when he passes you in the halls, grabbing your tits and ass and then running off before you can do anything, snickering all the while. Crude gestures directed at you just to see you squirm. A few terrible drawings and scribbles depicting you naked and lewd passed over to you disguised as a note signed by a friend, to which you open with multiple people looking over your shoulder… only to crumple the thing and throw it away, trying not to give him the reaction he wants, but he's always smiling in amusement anyway.

The teachers are aware and have acted accordingly — they ensure you're never close to him in seating arrangements, never assign you two together for projects. But all their efforts mean little when he's still seeking you out. He finds you at lunch, in study hall, after school, on any sort of special field day, at sports games, just to torment you with teasing and taunting and touchiness, stealing your things, embarrassing you in front of others.

But at the same time, well, you can't help but notice that part of the reason is because he's friendless, his nature has made everyone dislike him, even the other bully kids. He doesn't hang out with the other “bad kids,” because the “bad kids” have a sense of respect for each other, bully only outsiders, whereas he can't help but be a menace to everyone, so any social group he attempts to enter loses cohesion when he messes with everyone. He's long since been driven away from any social circle, even other problem kids and bullies. You're his victim, but you're also the only person he really talks to.

You suppose you feel a little bad for him, but it doesn't come close to justifying making you miserable. Nor can you forgive him for ruining your clothes — you've long since noticed, to your dismay, that he's around you so much that the cigarette and alcohol smells that permeate off of him, have transferred to your own clothes, if not outright have smoke blown on them... not to mention little burn marks on your skirts where he puts them out on the fabric when you're not looking. As if some sort of cruel punishment, that you have to be constantly reminded of him even at home.

Bully Ajax who gets pushed over the edge when some new kid arrives at school and starts talking to his…

…Well, his something. Maybe not a girlfriend — you have to have slept together to truly be that, right? — but still his, some way, somehow. Everyone knows that. That's why everyone else leaves you alone.

It catches him totally off-guard — he goes to the classroom where you normally eat lunch (you've migrated there over time since everyone avoids you because of him anyway, and even if you sit alone in the cafeteria, he'll find a way to publicly embarrass you, so enduring secluded torment is easier), and lo and behold, he stops in his tracks, nearly tripping over his own feet at the sudden pure bewilderment of seeing you with someone else.

He's frozen stiff, mind blank and halted in thought like a computer error screen, trying to process, eye twitching as he watches from a distance.

Some boy that just strutted right into this school and thinks he has the right to go talking to you, sitting with you? Some guy he doesn't know?

Why are you smiling like that? Why are you laughing at whatever he just said? What did he say to you?

It's immediate, all-consuming, blind rage. A cold, bitter feeling that spreads from his throat to his chest all throughout his body, that makes him clench his jaw and kick at the ground all the way home. No point in staying the rest of the day, not when he has walls to punch and pillows to tear apart and plenty of seething to do.

And you, you're so enamored and happy with this new guy that you barely notice the absence of your biggest menace over the next few days. You're in too much bliss to notice him sitting in the back of your classes, bitterly glaring at you, hands curled into fists. Too focused on your new boyfriend (who does ask you out as such, and everyone — everyone — quickly learns about the status between the two of you) to notice you're both being followed wherever you go.

He knows where you live. Small town and all. He knows when your parents are gone. He knows when you're home alone.

Ajax is not the brightest bulb in the box. Not one to think of complex solutions. He tends to just do things very straightforward, to simply act in the most direct way possible. Combined with his total lack of impulse control, this makes for a ticking time bomb on a very short fuse, an explosion waiting to happen.

He can settle the matter with the only thing he's really good at — violence.

He's not sneaky about it either, actually quite upfront. You don't even notice the car pull into the driveway, just jolt at the sudden banging on your front door, and go still in bewilderment when you swing it open to find him of all people standing there. He doesn't give you an opportunity to say much of anything before grabbing you by the throat and shoving his way inside, dragging you through your own house as you gag and choke and flail, throwing you down on your own bed, holding you down with brutal force.

He's always been the sort of bully to find amusement in your torture — always smiling and laughing. You've never seen him genuinely angry like this. You whimper and try to push him back, but it only makes his fingers curl against your chest even harder.

He's already got the aftermath images of your boyfriend to show you. Unconscious and beaten to a bloody pulp, so swollen and disfigured he's nearly unrecognizable, red and purple all over his face, laying in a ditch somewhere.

Why are you crying? You haven't known that guy for very long at all. Not as long as you've known him. You've known him longer, he was there first, you should care more about him, you should know better than to talk to someone other than him — he treats it as a transgression, that you've betrayed him, done him some great wrong.

Which, you have, to him. Here he's invested so much time into you, and you stab him in the back like this? All that time, effort, and affection he's put into you, it's socially understood to be proclaiming you're his. Everyone else clearly understood that. You've violated a social contract of sorts, one that clearly says that he had laid claim to you, that you're his.

And you probably slept with that guy too, didn't you? Why aren't you answering? Did you? Did you? No, it's not “none of his business,” as you spit back at him, it is his business, it's you, and you're his and so anything you do is his right to know. If you don't answer, he'll choke you out until you do. But he knows you did, so even if you say you didn't, he'll just do the same until you confirm the answer he knows is true.

So you did. Let someone else get to you before him. Slept with someone that isn't him when you knew full well he wanted to.

You're lucky I don't fucking kill you.

That's what he says into your ear, when he's ramming into you so hard your headboard keeps slamming into the wall, fingernails digging into your flesh. That he was there first. That he loved you first. That you had no right. That you're a whore and a little bitch and you knew exactly what you were doing — yes you did, you fucking knew, don't lie to me — by cheating on him with some loser, and that if he didn't love you so much, if he wasn't so merciful, he would kill you for this.

You probably did it on purpose. You wanted to get back at him for that really bad thing he did to you a while back, maybe, or maybe that other really bad thing he did another time. You wanted to make him mad.

Maybe you wanted this, even. Wanted him to do this to you. Yeah, that's the theory that makes the most sense to him.

Right. You wanted to be “official” or whatever it's called when people are publicly together, which of course means they've slept together. Everyone already knew you were his, but you wanted to take things further. You just have such an indirect way of doing things. You know, you could have just invited him to come sleep with you. But you have to do everything in such convoluted, needlessly indirect ways. Girls are so frustrating sometimes.

Regardless, this is what it takes to get you to acknowledge what you both know to be true — that he's always owned you, really, you know that, everyone knows. Once you wake up, he'll have to go over rules with you from now on about not talking to other guys. Of course, now that you're all passed out, he'll wait in bed for you to wake up, because he's a good boyfriend. He'll just smoke to pass the time... you won't mind a some ashes in your bedsheets. Probably.

Now he'll just have to stay by your side even more, ensure you don't get the chance to act on your urges ever again, since you seem to have trouble with impulse control. He’ll be sure to preemptively beat any new male students half to death as soon as they set foot on campus and tell them to stay away from you. You know, precautionary measures.

[lieslab]

And I'll never go home again

꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎ ꘎♡━━━━━♡꘎

Pairing: og8 X gn reader

Summary: After an awful incident with your parent(s), you find yourself seeking safety within the guys.

Genre: Comfort/hurt with angst

Word Count: 4.6K

Trigger warning: Panic attack, mentions of insults from parents, brief mentions of assault, insecurities, self-hatred, depression, and anxiety.

A/N: This one is kinda sad. It was requested, but it's slightly changed to be more relatable to a general audience. Feel free to imagine another parent or legal guardian where I specifically have father and mother written. I tried to make some neutral, so more people could relate. If you have awful parents, I'm so sorry. I hope you'll be able to find some comfort in this one <3

_ _ _

Chan: 

He drove as fast as he could according to the speed limit. There was nothing more terrifying than hearing your broken sobs on the other end of the phone call. Your heart was taut with hurt and there was nowhere else to go. Nobody else to turn to. You didn’t trust anyone as much as you trusted Chan. 

Every word your mother threw at you was another dagger in your heart. They cut deep and they stuck harshly in your bleeding heart. In the beginning, you couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t get the words out. 

Your fingers shook as you dialed Chan’s number. You knew he was working late, but he always picked up for you. All you could do was suck in a deep breath and hope for the best. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had a decent relationship with your mother. When was the last time you felt like her child and not some burden? Maybe your womb was rotten from the very beginning. The years flickered by, but your relationship had never been too solid. 

The insults she threw, the hatred she harbored, it was enough to destroy you every single day. Tonight was no different, but your week was rough. You reached your breaking point too easily. 

You tried to keep it all in, the self-hatred, the insecurities, the fear of abandonment, but it was too much to handle alone. That’s why in the middle of her screams, you called Chan. When he first picked up, all he could hear was your heavy and uneven breathing. 

The screams were faint in the background. He had no idea what they were saying, but he knew you lived with your mom. When he called your name with that soft sweet tone, you lost it entirely. Turning into a whimpering wreck of snot and self-pity. You wanted the warmth of a mother, not the monster she had turned into. 

“Chan,” you weakly whispered, “I-I can’t. I-” 

“What’s going on?” 

“M-My mom, she’s-” You were cut off by the insults again. Every negative word she could think of to describe you, she flung it your way. The thick wooden door was no match for the hatred oozing from your mother. 

“I’m coming to get you, okay? I’m coming. Just hang on and don’t hang up the phone. I’ll be right there, just hang on. Can you take a deep breath for me?” 

The lump in your throat made it nearly impossible, but you managed through the sudden congestion. You focused on the shuffling of his shoes on the floor. The sound of his keys jingling. The murmured curses as he hurried to get to you. 

“Just keep breathing for me, yeah? I’m coming to get you and I’ll keep you safe. Don’t hang up on me, alright? You’ve got this, I’m right here. Listen to my voice, you’re not alone.” 

The entire car ride to you, he reassured you that he was coming closer and closer. By the time he pulled up to the side of your house, your mother had left. She was gone, but the aching wounds left behind still lingered. She tore open your heart without a care in the world. Digging her nails into it, she squeezed the juice from it, your soul; all that was left was an empty sack of deflated goo. 

Not wanting to face her wrath again, you opted to sneak out the window. You grabbed your phone, keys, wallet, and stuck one leg over the ledge. You wasted no time sneaking out and shutting the window. Once freed, you rushed towards Chan’s car. 

He climbed out and his heart dropped. You were devastated in the moonlight. Puffy irritated eyes, wet cheeks, and a quivering bottom lip. He didn’t utter a word as he opened his arms out to you. 

You flew into them and wrapped your arms around him tightly. The warmth of his hand traced your back up and down. “I’ve got you, I’ve got you. I’ve got you and I’m never letting go.” 

_ _ _ 

Minho: 

He couldn’t hear you over the loud bangs. He thought he was imagining it in the beginning. He pressed a finger to his ear and his eyebrows furrowed. 

Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! 

“What the hell is going on?” He asked with confusion. “What is that sou-” 

“Get your ass out here right fucking now!” 

His eyes widened in shock at the sound of a deep voice. “Where are you? What’s going on? Are you okay?” 

“Minho, he’s taking off my door. He’s trying to knock it down. I-I’m so scared. He won’t,” fear filled you as there was another loud knock, “stop.” 

“Who?” 

“My father.” 

The rage inside Minho flickered to life and was blinding. He knew what your father was like. You told him all the time and this time was no different. The anger went from orange to fiery red to an electric blue. There were no words to use to describe it other than a pure volcanic molten. It oozed up his arms, crept towards his heart, and followed the pumping blood to his brain. 

“I’m coming right now. Does your father keep the door unlocked this late?” 

“I don’t know. Why does that matter?” Your fingers curled around the phone until they were pale. You were quite literally shaking like a leaf. Every new bang, you assumed you’d be done for. The wood and brass lock wouldn’t keep him out forever.

“I’m coming to pay that bastard a visit, so if you hear me screaming, don’t be alarmed.” 

“Minho, I don’t think yo-” 

“Don’t tell me what to do. You’re in danger and if anything, this is self-defense.” He shoved open the door to the cafe he was in and started to rush in the direction of your apartment. “How’s your door holding up?” 

“It keeps shifting beneath the force of his pounds. I’m really scared and I’m freaking the fuck out.” 

“Does your closet have a lock on it?” 

“No, it’s just a sliding wooden door.” 

“Hide in your closet and buy yourself some time.” 

You shifted from your spot on your bed. It creaked and it sent your father into another burst of anger. A loud crack filled the air as a section of the door splintered. 

“Minho!” You cried out in fear. You rushed into your closet and shifted the door shut. 

“I’m coming up the stairs now. I’m coming, I’m coming.” 

“Be careful.” 

“Maybe your father should be more careful.” 

He knew the layout of your house pretty well. He wasted no time heading up the cement steps with his phone in one hand and a fist in the other. He jerked open the door grumbling and went into the direction of the kitchen. 

Loud bangs rattled the walls and vibrated along the floor. His teeth gritted knowing that you were struggling and terrified behind your bedroom door. He ducked down to a cupboard, grabbed a skillet, and stood back up. 

“I’ll be right there, give me a moment.” 

You stayed quiet as the door began to splinter more. Your father’s screams were reaching your ears easily. The safety that your room once provided had been broken. 

“Hey, fuckwad!” Minho called out angrily. When your father spun around with a bulging forehead vein, a red face, and wild eyes, he swung. 

The sound of the thump caused him to crumple to the floor. When he tried to get up, Minho whacked him again in the back of the head. “That’s for being a dickhead, you dickhead.” He called out your name and pulled the phone back up to his mouth. “You can come out now, he’s out cold.” 

“Thank you.” 

“No problem, now let’s go to that new cat cafe.” 

_ _ _ 

Changbin: 

“Do you know what time it is?” Changbin muttered with a sleepy-laced voice. In his bedroom, he was barely coherent with what was happening. It had been a long day and he was exhausted. 

The moment he heard his phone ring, it knocked him right out of his blissful sleep. On the other end of the line, you stayed quiet for a moment. Your lips pinched together and you shut your eyes as his sleepy voice continued to speak and call your name. 

“Are you even there? If this is a prank call at this hour, it’s so not funny. I have work in the morning and I-” 

“Do you ever sometimes think you were a mistake?” Your voice was hoarse as you spoke. 

“Huh?” 

“A mistake,” you repeated yourself. “Do you ever find yourself wondering why you were born or what your life purpose is?” 

He blinked a few times, waking up a little more, and yawned. “Why are you asking me this at two in the morning? What’s going on? Did something happen?” 

“My mom and I got into a huge fight earlier. She said she was tired of me and she called me worthless. It wasn’t enough though, so she began to tell me that I was a mistake.” 

“You’re not a mistake.” 

“I feel like a mistake,” your voice started to become hoarse. “I feel like every negative thing that anyone has ever said about me is true. I don’t understand why you choose to have me in your life and I-” 

“I choose to have you around because I care about you. You’re sweet, kind, and compassionate. You make me laugh when I’m feeling down and I know that you’ll do anything for me just as I’ll do anything for you.” 

A lump formed in your throat and you swallowed a few times. “Do you really mean it or are you just saying that out of pity?” 

“I mean it from the bottom of my heart. Do you remember that time when I was feeling sad, so you treated me to dinner? How about that time when I couldn’t get that one song right. You pulled me away and sucked away the cycle of static that I was going through. When I came back, I finished the song without a problem.” 

“Why are parents so mean sometimes?” You weakly uttered. 

“Parenting is hard and sometimes parents don’t understand what they’re saying. Some will say whatever it takes to hurt you because they want you to feel as shitty as they do. It’s not for everyone, but you deserve a good mother.” 

“You’re one of the best people I know,” he continued. “I wouldn’t be who I am today without your help. You’ve helped me grow and change in ways that you wouldn’t understand. You’ve helped ignite my passions and kept me alive. Your mom has no idea what she’s talking about. You’re one of the best things that’s ever happened to me.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Close your eyes and let me talk. I’m gonna tell you a bedtime story, so you can have some good dreams. Don’t let your mother’s words get into your head. You’re so strong and I’m proud of you. You’ll never be worthless as long as you stay true to yourself. 

_ _ _ 

Hyunjin: 

Another long day had been spent in the recording booth at the JYP building. On a mission to unwind before nightfall, Hyunjin had his headphones in his ears and listened to the new playlist he created last week. 

The sun was setting and slathered the sky in blush pinks, soft blues, and ethereal hues of purple. It was one of his favorite parts of the day. To calm down and take it all in, to suck in this small sweetness; if nothing else was going right, at least, he had this. The sky, the scent of cherry blossoms, the curling leaves, the chill from snowflakes. The little things that added up and made life worth it. 

He was taking a second lap around town when his phone began to buzz and the soft melody was cut off. He jerked his phone out of his pocket and upon seeing your contact name, he swiped and spoke. “Well, hello there.” 

“Hyunjin?” You barely got his name out before your voice wobbled. Small thumps and shifting could be heard behind you. 

“What’s up?” 

“What are you doing right now?” 

“I’m just out and about. I’m walking around town and enjoying the sunset.” His foot went out and he kicked a stray pebble. It rolled down the sidewalk and came to a stop near a business. He reached out a foot and kicked it again. 

“Oh.” 

“Oh? That doesn’t sound too good. What’s up and what’s wrong?” 

“It’s been a really long day,” you uttered. “Besides that, I’m packing.” 

“Are you going on vacation?” 

“My dad is kicking me out.” 

“What?” 

“You heard me. My dad is kicking me out. I’ve been too fed up with him and his attitude. He’s had too much of me. Tonight we bucked heads and he snapped. He told me to get my shit and get out, so I’m packing.” 

He stopped in his tracks and clenched pale fingers around the phone tighter, “but you have nowhere else.” 

“I was going to call and ask if you could drop me off at a motel. I have some money and I-” 

“Stay with me.” 

“You know I can’t burden you like that. You live with Cha-” 

“He doesn’t care and neither do I. Come live with me. Come live with me until you find your own place. You know how much you mean to me. My problems are yours and yours are mine.” 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You shut your eyes on the other end of the phone. A huge weight lifted off your shoulders. You should have known he would have offered, but you still felt like a burden. 

“Only about a few thousand times. Live with me and I’d like to get that number up to the millions. You know I love people who love me.”

The teasing in his tone caused a smile to pull at the corners of your mouth. Warm tears slipped beneath your eyelids and coated your cheeks. You wiped them away with a sleeve and sniffle. “I’ll be waiting for you.” 

“No worries, I’m coming, just hang tight.” 

_ _ _

Han: 

“Hello, hello, hello. Guess who!” 

“I have your number saved, idiot,” you mumbled. 

“And here I thought you’d be excited to talk to me.” 

“I can’t talk for long.” 

“Why?” 

“I’m on a plane.” 

The red grape dropped from Han’s hand, bounced along the table, and rolled onto the floor across the way. His jaw dropped and he glanced at the clock. It was almost ten in the evening, way too late for a normal flight to take place. You were always a morning person and hated staying up late. 

“What do you mean? Why are you on a plane? For what? Why? What’s going on? You’ve never mentioned a trip.” 

You shifted and slumped down in your seat. The spot next to you was empty and you were grateful for it. “It was an impulsive decision. I just needed to get out of my house and clear my head. I booked a flight across the country and I don’t know. I just needed time to think, I guess.” 

“Is this about your parents?” 

“What do you think?” You mumbled. “I’m really at my breaking point and I don’t know what to do. I just needed to be somewhere that wasn’t so suffocating. No screaming, no verbal abuse, no walking on eggshells. I need the beach, the scent of salt, and the waves lapping at my feet.” 

“You deserve a lot better. I won’t take up too much of your time. I know you must be full of a lot of overwhelming thoughts, but please don’t shut me out of your life.” 

“I’m not shutting you out.” 

“I’m one of the closest people to you and I never would have known you’re skipping town if I hadn’t called you.” 

You shut your eyes and swallowed the lump in your throat. You were good at this. You were good at shutting people out because it was easier that way. It was easier to slam the closet doors shut instead of being open and addressing the species of demons that sat collecting dust on the shelves. Every so often, they wormed their way out and began to crawl around. 

Self-hatred, insecurities, comparison, and the words thrown like a bucket of ice water from your parents. You were a wreck and you were about to crash. This impulsive trip was just more proof of that. 

“What if one day you realize who I really am?” You whispered into the phone. Your head shifted and leaned up against the open window panel. You glanced down to find a staff member in a neon yellow vest heading towards the front of the plane. “What if you realize I’m a monster like my parents have?” 

“You’re far from a monster. A monster wouldn’t offer to pay for my coffee. They wouldn’t let me ramble about my worst days. A monster wouldn’t hold me after I cried buckets of tears over a reality TV show. There’s nothing wrong with who you are and I love who you are.” 

A faint voice entered his ear as a lady came over the intercom. You glanced up to see a flight attendant begin to announce the instructions for the flight. “I’ve gotta go.” 

“You’ll come back after this, right? You won’t just leave me here? You won’t disappear into the abyss forever?”

“For you, I won’t disappear. I’ll come back and let you cry all over that stupid romance show again. I’ll hold your hand while we go for walks. I’ll let you show me your favorite anime.” 

“I’m holding you to that.” 

“I promise.” 

_ _ _

Felix: 

The world was a little blurry as you stepped upright to the white door. You reached out and knocked a few times. Exhaustion hung heavy from your limbs and caused your head to droop to your chin. Like a lost puppy dog, you had nowhere else to go. 

There was a click of the lock and the door was pulled open. When you glance up, your single working eye found Felix. Relief floated through you and you felt like you could finally breathe. 

“What the hell happened to your eye?” 

You had been nursing the black eye since the early hours of the morning. A fight with your step-parent had gone out of control. You snapped at something they said and then they swung. You didn’t have time to step back as their pointed knuckles caught your eye socket. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Can I just come in? I really don’t want to be alone right now.” 

Felix opened the door wider and let you come inside at your own pace. Worry was sewn into his furrowed brows. He scanned your face, trying to figure out how he could help you. A purple bag sat beneath your other eye, you looked rough. 

His hands approached your shoulders and he gently led you over to the couch before pushing you down onto the cushions. “Was it the step-parent?” 

“Unfortunately.” 

“They’re such an asshole. I’m going to go get some ice for you. Just stay there and don’t think about leaving the couch. I don’t want you to get hurt anymore.” 

When he came back with a small ice pack he frowned at you. Your head laid against the side of the couch and you seemed as if you wanted to cry. No tears came out of the swollen eye. Beaten purples, puffy brown, and a tinge of cold blue encapsulated your eye. Your eyelid was so swollen that it had been pressed shut. You were only seeing the world around you with one eye. 

As carefully as he could, he eased himself down beside you, gently touched your shoulder, and tugged you towards him. You shifted and let yourself be pulled onto his lap. He slowly pressed the ice against your eye and your other eye instinctively shut as you winced at first. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to discuss it?” 

“It was a really bad fight.” 

“I can see that.” 

“Do you think I’m insufferable?” 

“Never. No matter what was said, you’re not who they claim you are. You’re one of the best people out there and I adore you with every fiber of my being. Just sit here and let me take care of you. Let me hold you for a while, okay? Let my body heat remind you that you’re not alone.” 

“I think I’m going to cry.” 

“Cry all you want. I’ll be right here if you want to get it off your chest. Go ahead and let it out, sweetheart, I’ve got you.” 

_ _ _

Seungmin: 

“You are the most worthless and inconsiderate person I’ve ever met! You are nothing, but a brat! A stupid and unloving brat! A selfish cunt! I wish I would have never given birth to you! If I could take it back, I would. Nine months utterly wasted. I wish you would have died instead of popping out of the womb!” 

In the hallway, Seungmin froze at the screaming. The door to your shared bedroom was closed and faint sniffles could be heard. What the hell was going on? He stepped forward to check on you.” 

“Stop ignoring me, you bitch. I know you’re receiving all my phone calls. You can ignore me all you want, but you’re rotten on the inside. I hope you listen to these voicemails and I hope you kill yourself. Do yourself a favor to this entire family and-” 

He rushed forward to the door and shoved it open. When he spotted you, you were laying on the perfectly neat bed. Your phone was on your chest face down. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you listened to the voicemails. You were so preoccupied that you didn’t even realize Seungmin had entered the room. 

“Who is that?” He suddenly called out to you. 

Your head snapped over and you clicked your phone off. “Nobody,” you muttered and wiped at the tears on your cheeks. 

“Don’t lie to me, who is that?” 

“A pissed off parent.” 

“Why the hell are they talking to you like that?” 

“They hate me.” 

“And I hate them.” His hand stretched out toward your phone. You didn’t fight it as he pulled it from your grip. He entered your passcode and went directly to your voicemail box. “Oh my god, how many of these have they sent?” 

“Twelve.” 

“And you’ve listened to them all?” 

“Repeatedly. Good to know that my brain isn’t the only one that hates me, huh?” You weakly smiled and a defeated laugh fell from your chest. Your arms remained limp above your head. 

You had submerged your brain in the voicemails. For the past half-hour you had been relistening to them over and over and over again. Forcing yourself to continuously endure the hatred shooting from their mouth. 

One-by-one, he deleted every single voicemail. When he was finished, he went into your call log and blocked the number. “You’re not listening to that bullshit anymore.” 

“Too late for that.” 

He shoved your phone on the side table, crawled into the bed beside you, and curled up next to you. “I’m not going to let you believe that bullshit.” 

“I thought you hated me too.” 

“Teasing is different from verbally harassing someone so much that they start to get depressed.” He wiggled closer, shoved his arms around you, and pulled you tight against him. “I think I should do this more often.” 

“You don’t like cuddles.” 

“Yeah, I do. I just can’t tell you that because you’ll take advantage of it. You just lay there and look pretty and let me do the cuddling and the talking. Where should I start? Your nose? Your eyes? Oh, how about your hair!” 

“They’re too big, the color of shit, and greasy.” 

“Shut up and let me compliment you. You don’t see yourself like I see you. If you interrupt me, I’m gonna tickle you.” 

“Do not!” 

His fingers shot out against the sides of your ribs. You squirmed, but couldn’t fight the smile that crept upon your face. “Stop! Stop!” His fingers lightly danced along your skin as your laughter bubbled up and brightened up the room. 

It was the best sound he ever heard in his life. 

_ _ _

Jeongin: 

It had happened so fast, it nearly gave him whiplash. One moment the two of you were sprawled out on the couch and watching a new show. You were both laughing and making silly commentary. The lightheartedness was something he cherished. 

He got up for a few minutes to use the bathroom. The tacos from lunch had left his bowels in turmoil. You insisted that he needed to try refried beans in his taco. He only had two, but it was enough that he had been running to the bathroom off and on for the past few hours. He swore he’d never do it again. 

He was expecting to come back to you teasing him. Sure, it’d leave him mortified, but he’d throw it back in your face. He’d blame you since you recommended that he’d consume them. The two of you would continue teasing each other until you broke into a fit of giggles. 

What he hadn’t expected was the tears in your eyes as you sniffled on the couch. Your phone was pressed against your ear and your bottom lip was quivering. The sight was so alarming that he rushed towards you, worried that some kind of emergency had happened. 

“Baby?” He called out softly. 

You didn’t respond, but that’s when he heard the yelling pressed against your ear. Your mother’s voice was so loud that he could hear it when he got closer. He pulled the phone away, but it was far too late to take back the horror that you had heard. 

He quickly ended the call and dropped your phone on the couch cushion before he dropped down beside you. His eyes scanned your face as he tried to find some sort of understanding, but nothing was making sense. 

What happened? What was going on? Why had your mother yelled at you like that? 

You struggled to keep it together and soon you burst. A whimper fell from your throat, his hand found your thigh, and that’s when you broke down sobbing. Through tears you sputtered about the rocky relationship with your mom. 

You talked about how awful it was, how much it hurt you, and how much you hated it. The name calling, how she blamed you for every wrongdoing in her life, she blamed everything on you. You were her kid, but had never been treated like it. If anything you were more of a hindrance to her life somehow. 

You collapsed in his arms and he pulled you against him tightly. “Please don’t cry, you know how much I hate it when you cry. I can’t handle it, baby. You’re going to make me cry.” 

“I-I’m sorry.” 

He squeezed his arms around you tighter and gently rubbed your back more and more. He uttered affirmations and reassured you that your mother was in the wrong. No mother should ever treat her kid, no matter how old, the way she had treated you. 

By the time he finished, your head was propped on his shoulder. Soft hiccups jolted your body every few moments. His hand continued to rub reassurance into your back. The other hand was along the back of your head. 

Maybe if he pressed you into him long enough, you’d be able to understand just how much he loved you. 

| ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ | ♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡ |

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[augustvandyne]

Hi I wanted to ask if you would write a Lucy Chen imagine. Where the reader is also a police officer and gets hurt badly, so Lucy is very worried. Just fluff with a bit of angst.

Thank you very much.

ofc ofc ofc!

backup

Lucy could tell it was going to be bad by the shake of your voice on the radio. You’d shakily asked for backup, but it was too late.

You and Lucy hadn’t been riding together that day, and that was the worst decision Sergeant Grey had ever made.

You were assigned to a shop with yourself, while Lucy was with Tim.

She didn’t understand. She’d seen you twenty minutes ago, tops. But from there the two of you had went separate ways.

Her voice broke, “Tim,” as soon as your voice had disappeared, and with one look at the woman, he stepped on the gas.

Tim gave her the spiel, if she wasn’t able to handle it, she’d have to step aside until you were safely transported to the hospital, where Tim would take her right after this, along with the rest of the station.

To say the way you looked was bad, was an understatement. The sight of you had everyone speechless, even Nyla.

“Conscious, but unresponsive,” Nolan is able to get out over the lump in his throat.

The man you were obviously up against looked worse than you, if that’s even possible. He took a shot to the chest, and was DOA.

You, on the other hand, had taken several shots and several cuts. There were bruises starting to form along your body and blood pouring out of your cuts.

Bailey has to keep her tears from falling as she and her team load you onto a stretcher.

Lucy stands by the side the whole time, trying to keep her tears at bay, but she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t let a few slip.

Tim and the rest of the team escorted you to the hospital, following behind the ambulance that was going more than a few miles over the speed limit.

By the time Lucy had gotten to the hospital her face was red from rubbing her tears away and her hair was messy from her running her hands through it.

She’s out of the car and by your side before it’s even in park.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy can’t even look at you. She knows it isn’t her fault, but she can’t help but blame herself. She had a bad feeling the whole twenty minutes since she’d saw you, and she should’ve known. “Y/n, you’re gonna be okay. I’m gonna be here the whole time, okay? I’m not leaving until you’re sick of me.”

The nurses push you through, an O.R. already ready for you, as you are a loved face all over LA—the station, the community center, the hospital.

When the doors close, and Lucy can no longer follow, Tim is there to bring her into a tight hug.

He needed it just as bad as she did.

Lucy quite literally breaks down it his arms, and Tim isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays standing there with a broken Lucy in his arms until the rest of the team found the two of them.

The group went around hugging Lucy, which was greatly appreciated by her because she needed it, and that’s why everyone embraced her.

The two of you were at the height of your relationship, and so she was more in love with you than ever.

She was going to marry you, and she knew it, so she couldn’t let you die now.

Sergeant Grey granted Lucy a few days off to get you back up and on your feet, which she gratefully took.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

By the time your surgery was done, not a single person had left the hospital.

Tim had tried to get Lucy to go to the cafeteria to eat with him, and to get her to go home to get some things for you and herself, but she wouldn’t even budge.

Nyla had brought her at least two cups of coffee, but Lucy had just let them sit. She was still in shock.

Tim sat on Lucy’s right, while Nyla sat on her left.

Those three were the three most important people in your life.

Lucy was the love of your life. The reason you kept going. You’d attended the academy together, but you were a year behind her, so she’d never really spoken to you. Maybe once or twice at the bar, but that was it.

Tim was your best friend. Any problems you had, you took right to him. On your off days, he’d take you to your favorite food truck and did whatever he could to cheer you up, because when you were sad, there was no light in any room.

Then there was Nyla. Your T.O., mentor, teacher, whatever you wanted to call her. She would never admit it, but you were her favorite. You’d won her over in the first week, and that was a Nyla Harper record.

So here were your three favorite people, all praying you’d make it through this surgery, and then make it through the night.

The nurse that comes out happens to be friends with Tim, so he is able to sweet talk her into letting the three of them come see you in the ICU.

Even though you aren’t awake, Lucy, Tim, and Nyla want to see that you are okay and breathing.

You looked better.

The cuts had bandages over them, and most of the dirt on your face had been washed off.

You’d only taken two actual shots to your body—your ankle and your shoulder. Any other shots had been caught by the vest. That was evident from the bruises formed on your chest.

One of your legs had been cut up pretty badly, and it had stitches. Lucy knew you’d be self conscious over the big gash that ran horizontal on your thigh.

Nyla lets out a loud sigh, her hands on her lower back as she stares at the ceiling to keep the tears from falling.

“Where was her goddamn backup?” Nyla lowers her guard for a second when a tear falls down her face.

“Nolan was on his way,” Tim keeps his jaw clenched, his hands in his pockets to keep himself from doing something he’d regret. “He said he was responding. I don’t— I don’t know. He—“

Lucy stands in the corner next to Nyla, afraid to speak.

Seeing Tim and Nyla so distraught has Lucy’s tears come back. Her heart breaks and drops to the ground all over again, and it definitely doesn’t feel good.

“God, if I’d have drove faster, maybe—“

“Don’t blame yourself,” Nyla takes a seat in the chair by your side, holding one of your hands in hers. “Don’t blame anyone. It’s no one’s fault but the man who did this.”

“I had a bad feeling,” Lucy has to bite her lip to keep herself from breaking down again.

“Lucy—“

“No,” Lucy scoffs. “I should have known.”

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○

Lucy is still asleep by the time you wake up. Nyla and Tim agreed to take turns staying with Lucy until you were discharged from the hospital. Which would be in a few days.

You had a bit of internal bleeding, so the doctors want to keep you for a few days to watch over you.

Tim is in the cafeteria grabbing some air and coffee. The two of you were asleep, so he figured he could have at least ten minutes to himself.

You wake Lucy when you’re reaching for the water, your throat was uncomfortably dry.

Lucy is immediately grabbing the cup and pitcher and pouring you water.

“Lucy—“

“Don’t talk,” Lucy feels her eyes watering again.

“Then don’t cry,” You whisper. You try to reach out and wipe her tears, but it pains you due to the shot in your arm. “I think my arms broken.”

Lucy laughs, glad to have some relief after those last agonizing hours without you.

“You were shot in the foot and shoulder. Your shoulder is broken, baby, but you’ll be okay. You have a large cut on your right thigh, too. I’ll take you to physical therapy, and you’ll be as good as new, okay? Grey gave me the next week or so off, but if you need more time with me, I will stay off longer. You’ll be back soon enough—“

It takes everything in you to lean forward and kiss Lucy.

“It’s okay, Luce,” You smile. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Lucy’s features soften.

“Lay with me,” You insist.

“Are you sure you won’t break another bone moving over?”

“Lay with me,” You say more aggressive this time so Lucy knows you aren’t kidding.

“Okay, fine,” Lucy fits in the spot you open up for her, despite the pain it caused to open it, it was totally worth it. “Now, let me tell you about how I saw Tim crying.”

Tim decides to come in at that moment.

“Oh— you’re awake,” Tim’s brows raise.

“Come and sit,” You turn your head towards him as he sits in the chair beside your bed. “Lucy was just about to tell me about how big and bad Timmy was spotted crying.”

Tim rolls his eyes but listens anyways.

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

the post-ruin Readerbot AU, where Readerbot wakes up from a nice lil nap to. Well. Ruin. And two new,, friends?

You were in a charging stasis during the events of Security Breach and were trapped there until the events of Ruin, completely unaware of what's happened. You remember the animatronics beginning to act oddly, and, of course, Moon, and maybe a weird security guard, but waking up to the 'Plex in shambles, the Glamrocks far beyond broken, and not a single human person in sight... That's a bit jarring, to say the least.

The very first thing you are greeted with upon powering on is, of course, a couple thousand error codes and 'emergency repair' alerts that have just been waiting for you to turn on to bombard you with a nice helping of sensory overload <3 The next? A mini musicman running at you full speed, not slowing down or swerving, hitting you directly in the shins and knocking you flat on your ass. Congrats! Your head has been re-broken. Welcome back to the pizza-plex, bitch. :)

You wander around the 'plex, too confused and shocked by the, y'know, everything, to even begin to think about what they should panic over first. You cross paths with Chica, who doesn't even acknowledge you, and Monty, who only growls as you pass by, then... You stop in your tracks. Technically, you've never been in the daycare, it was always off-limits. But a lot of your old protocols have expired... And you've always been curious...

You barely step into the ruined-daycare before nearly being knocked over by a familiar, and equally as unfamiliar, attendant.

Eclipse assumes you are there to help clean up the daycare! And he's so polite, and he reminds you a lot of Sun, with a little of Moon's mischievousness (this, admittedly, is much more harmless than Moon's had been, but the comparison is still there)...

Y- yeah of course you're there to help! Just lead the way!!

Eclipse seems extremely relieved to have someone to talk to- he must not be used to being on his own?- and, really, he ends up not... letting you do much. He doesn't want you to wear yourself out, and that's much to heavy to ask you to carry, and what if something fell or broke and you got damaged?? Management hasn't been answering any messages yet, who knows how long it would be until they could get you fixed properly!! :( (Mostly you just stand there and nod as he talks, or maybe holding something small and unimportant while he does the actual work. It's... endearing, but your inner staffbot is restless and sad at having nothing to do.)

Eventually, you come up with a compromise- you'll be his emotional support assistant while he works on fixing up the daycare, in the mean time, you'll fix the electrical issues and patch him up as you find more and more materials to do so. He seems pleased enough, and, you realize after a while, starts to really like being fixed up.

Then, one day, while scavenging around, you find a busted arcade cabinet. You go to take a look to see if it has anything worth repurposing, and the next thing you know you're waking up on the floor in front of cabinet as it smolders and melts. Well, there wasn't likely to be anything worth taking, anyway.

You realize later that you've picked up a sort of... virus. It's more like you picked up another passenger, a new voice to live inside your own head when before there had been just yours.

He's... strange. It takes him a little while to realize that you can hear him and respond to his voice, but when he does, he seems pleased. He's not exactly a chatterbox in the same way Eclipse is, but he has lots of questions and lots of ideas. The only issue is, well, to be honest, they aren't very good.

It surprises you, the first time he tells you to do something. "Push him over the edge," he demands as you stand behind Eclipse on top of one of the taller structures in the daycare. It wouldn't decommission him, but it would surely break at least one of his limbs. No, no, that was a bad idea, you thought to yourself. "But he's always been more loved than you, hasn't he? Don't you just want to see him suffer even just a fraction as much as you have over these years? Don't you want to break him to a dozen little, helpless pieces?"

Well, no, not really.

"Fine. Have it your way. One of these days, he's going to hurt you, just as he did before. And you're going to WISH you had listened to me."

When you finally got to the point of realizing this other voice WAS an entire other AI currently residing in the slim gaps yours left behind, one of the first things you did was ask him what he was called. It seemed only polite, after all.

"Eclipse."

Huh. That was going to get confusing.

[evermoresversion]

so long, london with conrad?

SO LONG, COUSINS, CONRAD FISHER.

PAIRING Conrad Fisher x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Angst.

SUMMARY Based on So Long, London by Taylor Swift.

SONG So long, London by Taylor Swift.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | CONRAD'S MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You loved Conrad. That was for sure.

You loved his company, you loved the way he made you feel. But you especially loved that he knew every detail about you.

But you were both at a point in the relationship where he didn't seem to know you at all.

"It's nothing, y/n, I promise, I'm just not in the mood." he said.

And all you had to do was stay silent, understand and nod.

You noticed him more and more distant. He didn't answer your calls, he barely sent you a text message confirming that he was still even alive.

But you never said anything about it for fear of losing him.

The one who was still carrying the weight of keeping the relationship going was you, and he didn't even realize that you were falling apart.

But everything has a limit, and you were not going to be the exception.

So you stopped trying to make him laugh when he was with you. You stopped pretending that everything was fine when it was the opposite. You just stopped trying, you stopped trying to force it.

And what pissed you off the most was that he was the one who was outraged.

"No. You can't possibly be telling me this, Conrad." you said under your breath, you swore you were about to tear your hair out in anger.

"I was going through a bad time and what you did was give up, so yes, I'm saying you abandoned the ship, you are as guilty as I am."

"I was going down with the fucking ship and you didn't see it!" you exclaimed without patience. "I was dying for you to give me just one measly moment of your day, for you to call me at least once, but that never happened!" You sighed. "I held on to making this work. There came a point where I didn't even know if you wanted to be with me."

"I did."

You both remained silent. You thinking at full speed, recapitulating everything and he just watched you.

"Did you ever stop to think about how your silence was affecting me?" he didn't answer. "Of course not."

"y/n..."

"No, listen to me." You looked at him and he stayed silent. "You swore you loved me, but where were the clues? I could have died waiting for the proof of your love but it would never have happened."

You took a moment to breathe and stop the tears from coming. You wouldn't give him the pleasure of seeing you cry.

"And what pisses me off the most is that you ruined this place for me. I loved Cousins and now everything will become an empty memory of everything that was and what wasn't."

"So this is the end." Conrad murmured without being able to look at you but you noticed the reddish outline of his eyes due to the threatening tears.

He didn't want to leave you but seeing you so broken because of him, he considered it was the best option.

"Yes, it is." You nodded. "At first what we had was nice, a moment of warm sunshine, but then it started to pour. Bye, Conrad, I'm sure you'll find someone, I wouldn't want it to end like this but I'm not the one." You mumbled and walked out of there.

He watched out the window as you got into your car and disappeared down the street, just as you disappeared from his life.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

[thinkingaboutbetterdays]

mistaken identity. ( beck oliver x reader )

gif belongs to me

"Dude, you have to talk to your girlfriend!" Andre exclaimed as he joined Beck at his bench with Tori on his heels.

"Why? What's wrong?"

"You know that new phone she got?" Tori continued. "Yeah, she must've confused the numbers or something because she keeps sending me texts."

"Okay…" Beck trailed on, unsure where the conversation was headed.

Andre took out his cell phone and opened your latest text messages. "Want to call in sick and spend the whole day together?" He glanced at Beck when he took a sip of his coffee. "Has anyone told you that you have the best eyes?" He held up a hand when Beck opened his mouth, "Uh-uh, it gets worse." Beck raised an eyebrow. "You know what? I can't say it in public." He handed Beck his cell phone to read the raunchier messages you had sent, intended for your boyfriend who quickly began to understand their urgency.

"If I was a gift, how would you unwrap me?"

"Guess what's on the menu? Me-n-u."

"I'm wearing that black thing you like…maybe I'll let you take it off later."

Beck's eyebrows raised as he knew exactly what outfit you were referring to and if he had known you were wearing it last night he would have broken speed limits to get to your place.

He handed Andre his cell phone back, "I'll talk to her."

Tori took out her cell phone when it chimed, seeing another text message from you, intended for Beck. She held it out with a sigh and Beck leaned closer to read it. "Oh." He chuckled when he read the message, reaching for his coffee.

"Put me on your 'to-do- list." Accompanied by a winky-faced emoji.

Seeing the look on their faces Beck knew they had more insight into your relationship than they ever wanted, and took out his cell phone to call you, "I'll call her right now." He took his coffee as he left the bench and Tori sighed in relief when she heard him talking to you.

Andre saw the amused smile on Beck's lips and looked at the brunette as their friend got further away. "You know, I don't think he understands how traumatized we are."

Beck met you outside the food truck and approached you with a grin as he hung up. "I wondered why you didn't come over last night. I thought you had fallen asleep."

He put his arm around your shoulders as you walked away from the line after paying for your lunch, leaning in to whisper, "When you wear that sleep is the last thing on my mind."

You buried your head in his chest as he chuckled. "I will never be able to speak to them again." Realizing he was leading you away from the sea of students, you looked at your boyfriend. "Where are we going?"

"I put you on my to-do list."

Giggles left your lips when he took your hand, leading the way through the hallways, tossing his coffee cup in a trash can on the way to a closet in an empty hallway. Locking the door behind him, Beck turned to you as you dropped your bag and placed your lunch on the shelves. He leaned down to pick you up, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, giggling as your lips met.

Later that day in his trailer, to avoid further accidental flirty texts Beck went through your new contact list and ensured the names weren't mixed up. You had made nicknames for the group but forgotten who was who.

"Now everyone knows about the black thing." You groaned, covering your eyes with your arm as you lay on his bed.

Beck chuckled, looking over at you. "They don't."

"How can that message suggest anything else but lingerie?"

Beck thought for a moment before nodding, "Okay, they know."

You groaned and he smiled as he looked at his cell phone, checking the numbers before fixing the names on your cell phone.

When he was done he held out your cell phone, "There, all done. Now only I get to read your messages." He smiled.

"I'll have to move."

Beck laughed, shaking his head. "No, you don't. Besides they'll forget all about it."

"When we're ninety, yeah."

Beck hovered over you as you removed your arm from your eyes. "At least you didn't send them pictures." He began to lean down but paused when you stiffened and pulled back to meet your gaze. "You didn't send pictures, did you?" You grimaced, slowly nodding.

"I sent one last night wearing the, uh,"

Beck's eyes widened, "To who?"

You shrugged, "Now can I fall off the face of the Earth?"

Beck looked through your messages finding the photograph and the text that accompanied it. "Is this photo too sexy to post?"

"Uh-oh." He moved away, sitting up as he looked at the message.

"That didn't sound like a good uh-oh. That's a bad uh-oh. Who was it?" You asked, sitting up.

Beck met your gaze, swallowing thickly. "Your mom."

A groan left your lips as you fell back on his bed and Beck knew that there was an intervention on the horizon. He set your cell phone aside and looked over at you when you poked him gently, knowing exactly what the grin on your lips meant.

"Do you have any idea how sexy you are?"

A chuckle left his lips as he shook his head, "You can be grounded."

"All the more reason to make the most of these moments we have together."

Beck jokingly sighed and you swatted his chest, making him laugh as he hovered over you. "Just so you know, if she knocks on my door, I will be moving."

"We can leave together so no one can disturb us. We can visit on holidays."

You smiled when he kissed you hotly, wrapping your arms around his neck as you melted into the kiss. Beck kissed down your neck as he murmured, "No." He lifted his head to meet your confused gaze, "You cannot post that picture anywhere."

You smiled, giggling lightly, "Your eyes only."

Buck bowed his head, and your eyes closed as he kissed paths across your skin, toying with the hem of your shirt as he murmured against your skin. "I love how naughty you are. Got any more surprises for me?"

Your eyes twinkled at his words and you knew your open flirtatiousness was rubbing off on him. You ran your hands beneath his shirt, feeling him shiver as your touch ghosted over his skin.

"Always."

When you returned home that night, as you expected, your mother confronted you about the text message and the photo. You were grounded for a month. Beck wasn't allowed to drive you to and from Hollywood Arts and so you only saw him through lunch breaks and shared classes. You had bought Andre and Tori gifts, in the hopes of bribing them into forgiving you, and Andre appreciated the little card that apologized for their trauma.

It became a joke between the four of you. Andre and Tori would tease Beck when he was smirking at his cell phone and now and then Andre would jokingly ask why you didn't love him anymore since you never sent him flirty messages. It baffled the others when the two would laugh when Beck was smirking at his phone and Cat would join in, not understanding what was funny.

Beck knew you all too well and knew that sometimes you sent the messages just to add fuel to the fire.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 10

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 9, Part 11

This chapter has sensitive topics! This time it's less on the religious side and more on the general awful shit that happens. It's specifically about a child (and adults) so you are warned!

Sunlight streams through the flap in the tent waking you up. Crawling out of the tent a gift laid in front sparkling for your attention.

A rough and raw cut Cor Lapis innocently sat where the hatchling used to be. Fingertips gently caressed the object before you stashed it away. Another item to be sold if you came upon hard times.

After packing up everything and eating a light breakfast you began the trek to Liyue. Activating and using that teleport waypoint would be so much easier but the suspicion you would get from it was just not worth it.

Farmers, hikers, and the occasional adventurer passed by as you hiked and eventually got to the Guild. Katheryne spots you and smiles.

"Ad astra abyssosque! Welcome to the Adventurers' Guild. Ready to start your first set of commissions Y/N?"

"As ready as I'll ever be." You mutter as you take the paper from her hands. Moving to the side, more adventurers are welcomed and assigned commissions. Fingers crossed for easy commissions, you scanned the list and the corresponding map.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Full Speed Ahead - The path is needed for a transportation vehicle moving people. Make sure the path is clear within the time limit. Defeating enemies may be necessary.

Increasing Danger - Hilichurls are building towers in the circled area. Destroy these towers for the safety of the people.

That last one would be hard, you weren't comfortable at the thought of hurting the cursed people of Khaenri'ah as well as the other civilizations that Celestia bombed. Your characters were always strong enough to destroy the towers and leave but you aren't.

Perhaps you can lure them to a different area and destroy the towers once they were distracted? Do they count as creatures of Teyvat that could recognize you as the creator? Or is the corruption from Celestia too strong?

Spreading Evil - A abyssal mage is scheming something in the square area. Defeat it and it's hilichurl allies by preventing the completion of the ritual.

Nevermind, this one takes the cake on what you did not want to do. What will you do if the abyssal mage is electro? You're basically useless! Well, maybe not since you can light up a torch and burn it till the shield breaks but still. Your divine aura may be prominent to them and cause them to report back to the Abyssal Prince. You weren't eager to ever meet him.

You go back to Katheryne and show her the commission list.

"Just a question, is the abyssal mage in this a electro one?"

Katheryne opens a separate book and scans it for a second before nodding. "That's correct, it was reported to be a electro abyss mage with four hilichurl allies."

"I'm afraid I can't accept this commission. I can only control electro and the shield can't be broken by simply waiting for it to rain like I can with pyro mages."

Katheryne nods at your words and flips through the book as she speaks. "Understood, the only commissions left at this time are either in a rank above you or too far away. You can wait here or check back in a few days to see if we receive any more commissions."

Would it be worth it to try convincing her that as you have no rank, you can do any commissions? Probably not, arguing with a robot never goes well. Sighing you're about to move away when a man nearly bulldozes you as he tries to get to the counter.

"Please help me! I'll pay whatever I have to if a adventurer can accept my commission!"

Moving to stand at the side you look up at the man and narrow your eyes trying to figure out where you've seen him before. Katheryne takes the panicked state of the man in stride and asks what commission he is trying to request.

"My daughter Yiran was being babysat by a new nanny due to my regular one getting sick, and she was kidnapped! Treasure hoarders stormed the dock area, and the babysitter hid leaving Yiran in the open. I was working at the Blackcliff Forge when the Millelith approached me and told me what happened. The only thing that was retrieved was this."

In his hands is a child sized dirty dark teal shoe. You're only relieved that it isn't bloody. This man is the one who stands near the toy seller with his daughter. Manager Kuan if you remember correctly.

"Please, I'll pay whatever I have to for someone to accept my commission and find my daughter. The Millelith refuse to put more attention on my case due to the increase of monsters. But the more time passes the farther away Yiran gets."

Kuan speaks with urgency as Katheryne shakes her head sadly.

"I'm afraid we don't accept commissions like these. While the guild may rarely accept a lost pet commission, they are usually never completed. To protect our reputation the guild does not accept commissions that we aren't sure can be completed. Only if a adventurer or team personally accept it can we accept it."

This seems to break Kuan even further. Tears of frustration well up in his eyes making him rub them roughly pushing up his glasses. His grief and discouragement is visible on his face as he continues trying to convince Katheryne.

The wind rushing in your ears don't let you hear or make out his next words. The wrinkles in his face seem to deepen and his black hair turns grey. The once short fine hair grows into a shaggy mattered mess of silver. Facial hair grows and tangles together as his clothes are torn into ruin. The once middle-class looking outfit is covered in patches, holes, dirt, and dried blood. It's him.

Dad.

"I'll accept the commission." Your words come out quiet, but he hears them. Turning to you, you see your adoptive father's face flash for a second before it melts away to Kuan's face. The illusion is broken as your father's image is gone with Kuan shakily smiling at you.

"Really? Name your price, I'll pay whatever I have to, to find Yiran."

Closing your eyes in a look of contemplation hides the tears that threatened to build up.

"Let me make it clear. I cannot promise to find Yiran and I will not accept any money unless I manage to find her or her body. I will try my hardest to find her but if after a week, I cannot find her I will have to leave this commission undone. Mostly because she could be in another nation by that point and it would be impossible to find her then."

"I understand, I just want you to try while there is still a chance." Kuan speaks to you with a sad smile. It's uncomfortably too similar to your dad.

Katheryne begins to walk Kuan through the process of drafting a commission and Lan places a hand on your shoulder. The rugged sigh that leaves her as she speaks hint to what she wants to speak to you about.

"Y/N was it? Come and speak with me for a second." Silently you follow her around the building, a safe distance from Kuan.

"You may have talked big game while the funeral director was here but you're a beginner adventurer. Do you understand what kind of commission you just accepted? If you somehow manage to find Yiran, it won't be a little girl. It'll be a gruesome corpse."

"At least that way I can bring something back to bury. Something to remember his daughter by." You say with a sense of longing. Memories of you sobbing over the lack of items to remember your father by rise to the surface.

"Even still, you should have left this to the Millelith. It may be hard not to accept it but you'll regret it when you cannot find anything and come back empty handed. You gave him hope when it's better to just give up-"

Firmly you place your hands on her shoulders. Your grip turns bruising as you force her body closer to yours. Lan's brown bob brushes against your face as you whisper in her ears.

"How hypocritical of you Lan. Don't you realize? You take on any commission containing the word 'sword', no matter the difficulty, to give your brother a proper funeral. That man, that father, is willing to put up with the emotional pain of hope to make the best of his chance at finding his daughter before it really is too late. And I will do what I want, for who I want, for anyone that reminds me of my own motivation. If I have to come back to him and hand him his daughter beaten, bruised, bloody body, then I will."

You push yourself away from Lan as she steps back with fear in her eyes. Her expression changes into a mixture of fright and wariness. There's no doubt that she's wondering how you knew about her mission about her brother. And despite the consequences that can come from this, you can't be bothered to care.

Kuan was not your father but he reminded you so much of him. Your dad that took you in and cared for you how no one else ever bothered to. If helping Kuan gives you the same feeling as when you would help your dad, then you'll gladly do it.

Turning back you turn the corner and Kuan is already smiling tiredly at you. The ache in your heart grows as the swell of happiness refuses to stop.

"Again, thank you so much for accepting. The commission I filled out has all the information I got from the Millelith, it's very little I'm afraid. They are taking this very lightly." There's a bite to his words this time.

"It's okay, I'll make do with the information you gave in. I should get going now to make the most of the time. You can expect to hear from me by the end of the week."

Taking the commission from Katheryne titled 'Missing Treasure' Kuan gives a wave as you begin walking to the city's main entrance. Not wasting time, you start flipping the pages and skimming the pages.

Yiran, a few children, teens, and two adults were taken around the same time. The adults were homeless while the children and teens were either poor or orphans. It seems the treasure hoarders did their homework on their victims.

Kidnapping these vulnerable minorities is a commen tatic in human trafficking. Orphans have no one that would look for them and the government could care less about the homeless. Liyue is such a bustling and thriving market that these kinds of people are pushed out and ignored.

You've lived through that on Earth, you intentionally avoided the rich areas due to this reason. Living here as a homeless orphan would be even worse. People look past you like you don't exist while those that do acknowledge your existence tend to behave violently. The government doesn't fix the problem due the fear of homelessness fueling people to work even when it's not good for them.

Yiran was probably a mistake. Either they were targeting the babysitter, mistoke her for a different victim, or saw her as a lucky grab. If Yiran wasn't kidnapped, the Milelith would have done even less. You shouldn't have expected Liyue to be any better than other rich cities on Earth.

The walk past the glamorous streets feels almost taunting. The guards that doze off and leisurely chat make your blood boil. Scolding them now would do no one any good. It would only eat up the time you need to find Yiran's body. Your thoughts were better off solving this case.

Making a detour you go to the scene of the crime, the docks. It's damp, with little security and it's mostly children and the poor. Makes sense as the main docks are simalir to a tourist area, no one wants trash around.

The majority of the ships are gone meaning no sailors are around. The timing was perfect. For once the treasure hoarders pulled off a good plan. Did the traveler only meet the stupid bunch or were the smart hoarders avoid the traveler intentionally?

Either way you followed the rough path the hoarders took until they left the city entrance. A cart must have been driven due to the amount of people to carry and restrain is too much for a group. This helps you narrow it down that they had to follow the path shown on the map. Liyue's terrarin is filled with mountains and rocks that make it nearly impossible to go off track.

You cross the wooden bridge, pass the small pond, climb the stairs and begin trekking through the path. There's a teleport waypoint that makes you sigh in relief. You really didn't want to have to walk the whole way back, plus it's a quiet enough area that you don't have to worry about witnesses.

Climbing up the boulder, you touch the waypoint and begin climbing back down. You weren't eager to use your wind glider just yet. The hike is pleasant but you keep your eyes peeled for anything that can serve as a clue.

Eventually, you get to a small village-like area, it's nearly abandoned judging by the lack of, well, anyone. You do freeze at the sight of Morax's Statue of the Seven.

The only question that runs through your mind is should you touch it?

On one hand you would get the geo element and just more power in general. On the other hand that would basically summon Zhongli to your area and you weren't ready for round 2 with a Archon.

The conclusion you arrive at is that you'll wait till you're injuried to touch it. At least that way you can test if you're able to be healed by it.

Making sure to keep a safe distance from the statue to avoid triggering it, you're about to continue your journey when you notice something. A book on a flat rock with the title 'Tracking and Hunting - a guide for the new and experienced'.

Was this not the book you were trying to find yesterday? What luck, you could use this to track the treasure hoarders with more effiency! Grabbing it you flip to the first page but are startled by a yell.

"Hey! Apologies for the intrusion but that book is mine for the time being."

Xingqiu and Chongyun run up to you as you hold the book to your chest. The pale blue exorcist is too busy calming himself down from the jog to pay much attention to Xingqiu reaching for the book with a polite smile.

How fake.

"Is it really? I simply saw this book laying on this rock, all abandoned. If you can't respect a book then you definitely shouldn't have checked it out."

Xingqiu grits his teeth and his polite smile strains in his effort to keep his annoyance in check. "Thank you for the advise, I'll be sure to keep better track of my belongings."

It seems Xingqiu is putting up his act due to his reputation as the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You need him to break character so that you can recruit him to help you find Yiran. He's all about justice and chivalry after all.

"I'll be happy to return this book if you- wait what the hell is that?" Your tone goes from mocking to confusion as Xingqiu steps closer letting you view him. The change in your tone brings Xingqiu and Chongyuns attention to you.

You stare at Xingqiu's hair with increadibility that slowly morphs into laughter. Your laughter grows as Xingqiu inquires what you're laughing so hard about.

"What the hell is that haircut? It's more uneven than mountains, with more layers than an onion with some strands poking up like a porcupine. If you paid someone for this haircut then get your money back!"

You hold the book to your stomach as you double over in hysterics. Chongyun keeps a palm over his mouth as he struggles to contain his chuckles. Xingqiu's calm facade seems to crack with each ring of your laughter and your next words seem to break him.

"I don't know how much self-confidence you have to have, to go around with that hair, but I need some! Oh god, what are those bangs?!"

Chongyun turns away as he trembles with laughter that slips through his fingers. Xingqiu crosses his arms in annoyance as he begins his own tirade.

"What kind of person are you? Who begins to mock the person they are basically stealing from? Do you have no chivalry?! What gives you the confidence to give someone else shit for their style when you can't even choose one?! A Liyue style glider with Inazuma style clothing is terrible combination, only able to be worn by a simpleton like you!"

He pants harshly while pointing at you as the laughter dies down. Chongyun looks at his friend in some shock and seems to struggle in whether to intervine or not. You stand up with a smug grin and lean closer to the Guhua swordsman.

"Still not as bad as the bowlcut you're sporting."

Xingqiu groans loudly at your words and lays his palm open. "Let's just stop this stupid conversation. Return my book now."

"Like I said, I need it so either help me out or let me keep it."

"Return my book or else." Xingqiu's hands clench tightly and Chongyun places a hand on his shoulder. He ignores it.

"I'm not returning it unless you make a choice between the options I presented."

A sacrifical sword is quickly pointed at your neck as Xingqiu stares at you.

"Give it back or you'll know my sword." The familair line makes you smile happily as you place the book on his outstretched hand. "Sure!"

"It's just a shame that I'll have less resources to track down those treasure hoarders. I hope I can find them in time..." You speak outloud as you pass them making Chongyun glance back at you. Xingqiu is still gripping his sword without looking at you.

"Wait, please! Can you explain why you are tracking down the treasure hoarders?" Chongyun finally takes the initiative and calls out to you.

Smiling pleasantly you turn to Chongyun and speak while being well aware of Xingqiu resisting the urge to look at you.

"I'd be happy to. Last night treasure hoarders swept through the lower level docks in Liyue and kidnapped some people. That includes my commissioners daughter, Yiran. The cart they are driving must be following this path but I know it'll split at some point. That's why I wanted the book to help me track the hoarders down."

Chongyun's face returns to his usual frosty look. "I understand why you were in such dire need of the book. I would like to help you. My name is Chongyun and I'm a exorcist. I track down ghosts and evil spirits so perhaps my experience can help you."

"That would be a great, thank you so much! I'm Y/N and feel free to speak comfortably."

One acolyte joined, now you only need the other. But if Xingqiu is being too stubborn to help you then you're better off leaving him-

Your train of thought is cut off by the book being thrusted into your arms as Xingqiu walks toward the stairs leading further down the path. You and Chongyun send Xinqui a confused look at his sudden actions.

"What are you two doing gawking at me like that? We're wasting time standing around like this."

A huff of laughter leaves you at his words and you motion Chongyun to follow along as you begin to follow Xingqiu.

"Nice to see that his highness is willing to set aside time in his busy reading schedule to help out with this case."

"I'm a purser of chivalry and justice first and foremost. It seems you do know that I'm related to the Feiyun Commerce Guild. You've got guts to treat me in such a unabashed manner."

"What's the Feiyun Commerce Guild? Some small family business? You didn't really expect me to recognize you immediately right? I mean I'm just a traveler who recently arrived."

Xingqiu seems a bit embarrassed at how he psyched himself into revealing himself. The mockingly kind tone you use only enhances it.

"Can you two please stop arguing? The treasure hoarders will hear you both and run away before either of realize at this point."

Chongyun's calm demeanor and words remind you of your original mission. Now that you recruited the useful acolytes, it's best you don't get too distracted.

"Chongyun is right, why don't you tell me your name bowlcut?"

"My name is Xingqiu and I'm the second son of the Feiyun Commerce Guild. A great displeasure to meet you Y/N." He scowls as he speaks but there's no real bite to his words.

"Nice to meet you too bowlcut. While I read the important sections on your book, why don't I hand you the notes from the original comission? Are you intrested in reading it too Chongyun?"

"No, my main focus is on exorcisim. I'll just keep watch of you both while you read and walk."

Nodding you hand the notes to the curious Xingqiu and search through the book as Chongyun guides you both down the staircase. The treasure hoarders must have lost time going down this steep staircase without crashing the cart.

Finishing it rather quickly due to your previous knowledge on the subject, you spot two Milileth guards on the right. They might have seen something suspicious! Tapping Chongyun's shoulder you point at the soldiers.

"Let's ask them if they saw anything, a cart being driven must have caught some attention."

He nods and stops Xingqiu from walking off, Xingqiu only waves you both away as he stands in place. Being careful not to touch and trigger Chongyuns yang enegry you walk with him to the guards.

"Hello, we were wondering if you saw any carts passing by from the Harbor. If there was too many then were there any that looked particularly suspicious?"

Only one guard answers you as the second is too busy relaxing at the table. "We do a routine inspection on everyone that passes through. If any of them were suspicous we would have escorted them to the city."

"So who was watching over whenever you escorted a suspicous person/group back to the city?" You ask in slight disbelief.

The guard goes quiet as if contemplating on what to say... You aren't sure whether to laugh or sigh. The second guard is dragged over by the first guard.

"Oh are you both here for a face reading? The blue one has some striking eyes which indicates a strong spirit but the other one is a bit harder. That mask makes it difficult but I can tell that you have a, what's the nice way to say it? A rather plain but ordinary face, you can think of it as good thing if you think about how easy it is to change it to something more interesting."

Your expression drops in unison with Chongyuns at his words. You had a feeling Liyue's guards weren't the best but this was even more pathetic than you thought. It's clear this guy was slacking off during his whole shift.

"We don't want a face reading so don't expect us to pay for your crappy words. We just wanted to know if you saw any suspicous carts passing by."

"Oh well I kind of left for some tea at the Emerald Maple Inn on the left. A older lady passed by me and stayed by the roadside during that time so I suppose you're better off asking her."

Chongyun presses a palm to his face at the second-hand embarrassment. The only thing that's stopping you from slugging this incompetent soldier is Yiran and the fact it's a nice sunny day.

"Thanks for the doing less then the bare minimum. We'll be on our way now." You say in a polite voice and push Chongyun back to Xinqui while ignoring the offended man.

"That was so embarrassing. A traveler like you who is new to Liyue should not have had to see such a... lazy soldier." He puts the truth very kindly before holding a hand to his head as he steadies his breathing.

You get back to Xingqiu and explain what happened. He managed to look even more disappointed than Chongyun and the three of you climb the left hill to the Inn. Xingqiu had already finished reading and you swapped the reading material to their original owners.

Tables are set up outside the Inn and one of them has a elderly lady drinking tea at one of them. Walking up to her, you smile kindly as the guys hang back to question the owner of the Inn.

"Hello ma'am, around last night or early this morning, did you go down by the road? If so did you notice a strange cart passing by?"

"In fact I did, I told one of the guards when he came back but he didn't take it very seriously... Well a few people were driving a cart loudly talking about meeting a group at the fork in Guili Plains. I'm afraid that's all I know."

...Was the book even necessary now? What kind of cliche convient villain move is speaking about your evil plans out-loud? There goes all the compliments you gave them for making smart choices. But they did choose the one time when no guards were present. Does that cancel out their stupidity or show just how lucky they are?

"Thank you so much for the information. I'll get going now and use it wisely." The old woman nods at your polite dismissal and rejoin the disastified duo who brighten up at the information you obtained. Until a young boy comes out from the Inn asking.

"Is that the cough adventurer with the medicine? cough"

That sounded familiar, too familiar to be a coincidence. The old woman attends to the boy's coughing fit as you look through your handbook.

Straight to the Heart - Qingxin must be freshly picked to be made into effective medicine. Pick it off the mountain and get it to the caretaker within the time limit. Enemies may be in the area.

Yup, the area where the comission takes place is your exact location. This was your commission to deal with.

Turning back to Xingqiu and Chongyun who are patiently waiting for you, you explain the situation. They agree to seperate from you and continue the path to Guili Plains while you finish the commission. Promising to catch up with them soon you wave and Xingqiu shoots you one last remark.

"Oh and be careful when climbing! Geovishap hatchlings have a tendency to push off unlucky climbers!"

...He was joking right?

With a mental note to get him back for that, you turn back to the old woman and show her the commission paper.

"Hello again, before I leave to continue my journey I would like to get that pesky qingxin for you first."

She smiles relieved and brings you near the back of the Inn. Pointing upward to a mountain that was more of a rocky hill, she tells you of a qingxin that grows there.

After she leaves to prepare the rest of medicine, you begin climbing. Your climbing skills are rusty so you slide down at the worst times but you manage to pick up on your old skills relatively quickly.

So focused on climbing, the wind brushing against your cheek goes unnoticed until a leaf hits you. Moving it away leads you to looking at the gorgous scenary of Liyue.

The clear water of Luhua Pool. The mountains dotted with trees and grass. And even the areas with ruins make for a picturesque view. In the distance you can see the Wangshu Inn. You really hope Xiao never catches wind of you or else you'll constantly be monitored.

Finally arriving at the top, you sit down and rest your body. You aren't aching but you weren't about to pick the flower and jump off. Planning was still needed to avoid a broken bone.

Should you use the wind glider or speed climb down this hunk of rock?

The wind seems to pick up as the pebbles are thrown off the rock you're on. That was not a good sign for a beginner like you. Seems speed climbing it is!

Mapping out a route that would have you alternating between sliding and climbing you double checked it before standing up. The moment you pick the qingxin from it's place that you remember that the time limit for this comission is 30 seconds unless you defeat an enemy.

Scrambling you hurry down while mentally counting down the seconds. That's probably why you didn't notice the geo slime that you kicked off the mountain in your rush.

It's only after handing the qingxin just in time to the old woman that you notice how squishy your boot is.

You end up leaving back to the path with a bag of rewards from completing the commission and some slime concentrate in your bag. There's a clear crunch of the leaves as you walk the path quickly in hopes of catching up to the duo.

You pass by the wilderness and animals as you keep jogging. There's a small stone bridge and you spot the different shades of blue hair moving rather quickly. Getting closer you see the new third indivual.

A black figure with glowing red undertones dives between the sword and claymore clashing against the sacrifical knife. The pyro delusions and maroon mask makes it clear that the fatui agent isn't going to relent easily.

Summoning your sickle, you run into the fray as the agent dissapears leaving a red silloutte behind.

"I didn't arrive too late right?" Xingqiu blocks a strike and Chongyun uses his skill to apply cryo to the area.

"Right on time actually. Quite suprising for someone like you." Superconduct heightens your damage as your sickle slices the agent's arm with electro.

"Ha ha. On the other hand when is your other earing arriving? I believe it's long overdue." Xingqiu's raincutter is summoned making reactions fly around.

Frozen, superconduct, electro-charged, and some shatters keep the agent from barely moving.

"For the last time, will you both stop fighting and focus fully on the fight?" Chongyun's cold clear voice seems to momentarily redirect your attention to the fight. It's only now that you can actually look at the state of the Fatui agent.

A mask half frozen with chunks of it biting into his skin, the blood stains the ice red and the eye's flicker. His arm and legs seem to jerk at random times, most likely from the electro-charged reaction still running in his system. With multiple slash marks and grave wounds that breeched his suit into his skin. It's the hand barely hanging to his wrist that bleeds the most.

This was less of a fight and more of one sided beat down. Compared to when you and Heizou fought those Fatui skirmishers this was a breeze. Made sense but it still felt nice to see some progress in your own strength.

The bone is visble as the blood continues to spurt out of the wound as the agent staggers. None of you move as he sways before falling backword onto a huge chunk of leftover ice. It stabs his stomach letting you see the now pink tip of the ice that went through him.

The force also wretched the hand off his wrist making it land with a sickening splat. Lucky as always, it lands at your feet. Blood drips down from your sickle onto the decapitated hand making you sheathe it back into nothingness.

Looking back to the freeze team, their clothes have much more blood but they ignore it and walk past the body. With them as your guidance, you follow them and grip the agent's sacrificial knife in your hand before quickly stuffing it into your bag.

"So how did that fight even begin? I never saw any mention of the Fatui being involved with the kidnapping."

The way you easily move on to a conversation is comical. You had just committed a joint murder with a duo that you met a mere hour ago and yet you don't feel distraught. Not like the first time you killed in Teyvat. It seems you're starting to adapt to Teyvat's laws. Would you ever fully adapt to it's religious beliefs about the 'creator'?

"The agent jumped at us yelling something about paying back a debt due. But judging how suprised he was when he saw us, he must have believed we were someone else." Chongyun explains thoughtfully.

Xingqiu presses a hand over his mouth seeming to ponder something.

"Do you think the Fatui agent met with the treasure hoarders at the fork? Since the hoarders cart were the only suspicious people going through, it would make sense that they would be meeting the Fatui."

"Then if you're right, something must have gone wrong at the meetup. Damn I wish he didn't die, we could have questioned him."

Depending on the meetup, chasing after the treasure hoarders would be useless if they gave Yurin and the rest of the captives to the Fatui.

"We would have gone easier on the agent if we knew you could control electro. I don't see any vision on you so how do you control the elements? Are you similair to a cartain golden haired traveler?"

"Let's just say it's an ability I gained after an upgrade. It's not a delusion though so forget that kind of possibility."

Xingqiu shoots you a skeptical look at the nonchalant way you dismissed his questions. Chongyun, ever as guilable nods in understanding before asking his own question.

"Did that upgrade also give you your perfect spirit?"

Being careful not to trip on a abandoned wagon, you glance questionably at Chongyun.

"I have no idea what that means. I've heard of yin and yang energies but I'm not well versed in it."

He places a finger to his chin as he struggles to explain the concept to you.

"A perfect spirit is something of a legend. Everyone has a mix of yang and yin that can changes depending on the day, mood, constiution and other factors. I'm one of the few that has a pure yang spirit that I struggle everyday to control. But your spirit is perfectly balanced and even during the fight it didn't waver. It's not just perfect, it's also similair to a void. It feeds on the surrounding energies and stabilizes them. Usually I would spend half an hour after a battle to calm down but with you here I had no need to."

Was that a perk of being the creator? If so that can be pretty neat but on the other hand it also makes you terribly shady. Under a better circumstance you could use it as proof of you being the creator. It really is a shame.

"When I studied the books in my families library, it said that only the creator could have such a spirit..." Of course you had to be right.

The red scrapes that you earned from the fight seemed to grab the attention of both vision holders. To them, it's proof that you aren't the creator and to you, it's proof that no matter what kind of evidence you gather, your blood will always disprove it.

"All those little things about you don't seem to be adding up Y/N. The electro, the vague backstory, the strange aura that surronds you, the so-called perfect spirit and that mask aren't making you any less questionable."

Xingqiu's voice slips through the cracks created by Chongyun in your identity. The crushing of dirt stops as Chongyun and Xingqiu block your way.

"The creator is not one to be messed with or imitated. Evil spirits and demons are the only ones filthy enough to do so. There's a large chance you've been possessed by one. Allow us to purge you, I can promise that in death you'll be freed."

His prototype archaic claymore is summoned in his hands, he always had a one track mind when it came to exorcisim after all. Xingqiu stays behind but the sacrifial sword in his hands is clearly visible.

The day had been going so well too.

"I think you both are getting ahead of yourselves." The smooth words only make them freeze and glare at you.

"I mean neither of you even gave me a chance to speak! Chongyun do you really belive that the creator is only desecrated by evil spirits and demons? I mean just think of Xinyan's concerts, many of those people were just simply terrible."

His grip on his weapon is firm but he nods his head solemly.

"I'm well aware of that but I earnestly believe that you're possessed. Someone like you who accepted a comission to save a little girl isn't one who I would suspect to be a sacrilegious person."

"And even if you are simply a horrible person that finds enjoyment in mocking the creator in this fashion, I could deal with you instead." Xingqiu leers closer as he expertly twirls his sword.

"Defending chivalry and spreading justice is my passion after all." The kind smile on his face mocks you.

Taking out your weapon would only agrivate the situation and confirm their belief. Instead you bow to them and speak curteously.

"As the situation has degraded this badly, I may as well reintroduce myself truthfully. I'm Y/N, an oracle for the creator. My main purpose is to investigate acolytes and the citizens faith simultaneously. The creators spirit envelops me like this to protect me and help me protect others."

Your words catch them both off-guard. Xingqiu double downs on his stance as Chongyun takes a step back.

"I was ordered to be as vague as possible which makes me very suspicious but I have to be careful in what I say. The perfect spirit sitaution may be new to me but there's a very logical explanation."

"And what may that be? If it's not satisfactory I will purge you as soon as possible seeing as you must be possessed by a demon of unknown caliber."

"Think back to when the creater controlls you, does your yang enegry ever get out of control?"

"Of course not, the creators spirit inhibits us and allows us to access blessings that belong to them."

"Then why can't I, who is constantly connected to the creator access those blessings?"

"Thats-!" Chongyun bits his lip as he looks away clearly conflicted.

"The creator is all powerful! Do you think that their perfect spirit isn't strong enough to completely overpower mine?"

Chongyun loses his grip on his claymore and it's dissapears into the air. He's far too anguished between what he knows is a fact and what his own feelings tell him. Too easy, easy to the point where Xingqiu steps in.

"That's a nice runaround and although I can't comment on this perfect spirit conversation as I have not been allowed to read those books yet. I believe it's your identity as a oracle that is the most questionable."

"I know, a clever and eloquent man like yourself would not be so easily swayed by a charlatan like me."

"Cut the crap and show me whatever proof you have. Or is your hands as empty as your skull?"

Ignoring his words, you send a mental thank you to Ayato and display the fan. It would be useless to use in convincing Chongyun but Xingqiu would know due to his high-standing.

Just as you suspected Xingqiu's eyes widen for a second before he moves closer to examine the fan.

"It's the real deal... This texture is one only used in Inazuma for those close to the Electro Archon." His fingers brush against the fabric of the fan before he pulls away with a softening scowl. "I suppose you weren't lying if you managed to get this fan. The Kamisato Commissioner is said to be a elusive man."

Chongyun looks at the fan and Xingqiu in confusion before sighing and giving up on understanding the conversation.

"If that quells all remaining doubts then lets get going. We wasted a lot of precious time." Quickly you walk past them and smile at the sounds of their footsteps following you.

Putting the fan back into the safety of the bag you remember how thankful you are for meeting Ayato. At least with proving yourself to him, you managed to get such a useful tool. It's only fair to milk it for all it's worth.

The fork comes into view and your breath catches in your throat.

The lush grass was crushed under a mix of debris and blood. Crimson stained and dripped down the stone hedge as pieces of dirty clothing drifted in the area. The huge wreckage of a smashed up transportation vehicle was the main center piece.

Aside from the dead bodies littering the area.

Bodies of treasure hoarders with elemental wounds were the most abundant. A few Fatui skirmishers with makeshift reaction and weapon wounds laid in the clearing. The war-machines were deactivated as the bodies rot inside.

Taking steps forward to the middle of the wreckage, it's a single item that installs fear.

A pink flower pin lays innocently on the ground. The blood and dirt on it seems to glisten with malice as the sun reaches it's peak in the sky.

It's finally out!!! OMG it's been so long since I last posted. Work's been burying me, every weekend is a birthday/event/funeral, plus the fall semester is going to start soon. Not to mention Fontaine is almost here and I didn't even finish a single area of Sumeru. Someone stop time, I need sleep. I hope I gave reasonable explanations for the stories behind the commissions. You know the first commission completed with the Qingxin? If you climb the mountain I described, you will find a Qingxin. I know this chapter may be a bit boring since it focused on the kidnapping but I hope Xingqiu and Chongyun were written well enough. I don't think they have a romantic relationship like many fans describe. Then again, I don't like shipping in general. I gave Xingqiu a similair dynamic to Ayato but there is difference. Ayato is more of a 'pretend to be formal while insulting' meanwhile Xinqui is more juvinele with 'I feel annoyed by your presence and the fact I like it is even worse'. Both are fun but if something else works better with Xingqiu's personality please let me know! Time for me to actually finish exploring the summer event and go to even more activites I don't want to attend T-T. (I'll recheck it when I can on my PC) Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @undecidingfate, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @fluffy-koalala, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling

[zafill]

Demon slayer pt.2

DEMON SLAYER PT.2 

WARNINGS!!: self-harm, fights, bad thoughts.

pt.1

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ The air was thick with the scent of pine and the lingering warmth of a setting sun. Five years had passed since Kagaya Ubuyashiki had taken me in, and in those years, I had changed. I was no longer the scared, broken child who had been dragged across the cold ground by a mother who wished she had never given birth to me. That girl was gone, buried beneath layers of strength and determination that I had forged with my own hands. 

In the beginning, the other recruits had received guidance, training, and instruction from seasoned Demon Slayers. But not me. I had always been different, set apart by my past and the darkness that still clung to me. I had learned early on that if I wanted to survive, I would have to rely on myself. And so, I trained alone. 

Every morning, before the sun had even risen, I would leave the camp and head deep into the forest. There, in the silence of the early hours, I taught myself the ways of the blade. My katana became my closest companion, its cold steel an extension of my will. I learned to move with precision, to strike with speed, and to endure pain with a stoicism that came naturally after years of suffering. 

The forest became my teacher, the rustling leaves and the calls of distant birds my only company. I would practice for hours, my body moving through the forms I had observed the other trainees perform.  

When I wasn’t practicing my swordsmanship, I was honing my physical strength—running, climbing, pushing my body to its absolute limits. I knew that I had to be stronger, faster, and more resilient than anyone else if I was going to make it as a Demon Slayer 

One day, as the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the forest floor, I was deep in my routine. I had just completed a particularly grueling series of strikes against a makeshift wooden dummy when I sensed a presence behind me. Startled, I whirled around, my katana raised defensively, only to find Kagaya Ubuyashiki standing a short distance away. 

His appearance took me by surprise. His hair, a cascade of dark waves, framed a face that was both gentle and severe. His eyes, or rather, the one eye that was still unclouded, observed me with a mixture of curiosity and understanding. The other eye was obscured by a faint, purplish mass, a sign of the blindness that was slowly creeping across his vision. He was not yet fully blind, but the signs were there, a reminder of the burden he carried as the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps. 

“Master Ubuyashiki,” I breathed, lowering my sword and bowing respectfully. I hadn’t expected him to come so far into the forest, much less during my training. 

He smiled softly, the kind of smile that held both warmth and sadness. “You’ve grown much, (Y/N). Your dedication is evident in every movement you make.” 

I felt a flush of pride at his words but quickly suppressed it, focusing instead on the humility I had learned to adopt. “Thank you, Master. I’ve been training hard.” Kagaya nodded, his expression shifting slightly, as if he was about to share something important. “Your progress has not gone unnoticed, and I am pleased to see how far you’ve come on your own.  

But I have another reason for coming here today, (Y/N). We have a new member joining the Demon Slayer Corps, and I wanted you to be among the first to know.” 

A new member? My curiosity piqued as I wondered who this person might be and why Kagaya had chosen to share this news with me personally. 

“His name is Gyomei Himejima,” Kagaya continued, his voice filled with a quiet respect. “He is a man of great strength and even greater compassion. Though blind, his senses are extraordinarily sharp, and he has a deep connection with the world around him. He possesses an unmatched inner strength that I believe will be invaluable to our cause.” 

I listened intently, intrigued by this new addition to the Corps. A blind man with such strength and presence—it was both surprising and inspiring. I wondered what kind of person Gyomei must be to earn Kagaya’s high praise. 

But as Kagaya continued to speak, a knot of unease began to form in my chest. “Gyomei has faced many challenges in his life,” Kagaya went on, “but he has emerged from them with a heart full of kindness and a spirit unbreakable by the hardships he’s endured. I believe that the two of you could learn much from each other.” 

His words were meant to reassure me, to make me feel a sense of camaraderie with this new member, but instead, they stirred something dark and unwelcome inside me—an emotion I hadn't expected to feel: jealousy. 

Kagaya had always been a guiding light in my life, the closest thing I had to a father. He had taken me in when I was lost, nurtured my potential, and given me a purpose. I was the first person he had "adopted" into this strange, new family of Demon Slayers, and in many ways, I had come to think of him as mine alone. The idea of someone else stepping into that space, especially someone as remarkable as Gyomei, made me feel threatened. 

I tried to suppress the bitterness rising in my throat, but it was difficult. Kagaya had always been kind and supportive, never showing favoritism, yet the thought of sharing his attention and approval with someone else made me irrationally hostile. I didn’t want to feel this way, but I couldn’t help it. It was as though this new member, despite having done nothing wrong, was somehow encroaching on the bond I had so carefully built with Kagaya. 

"Master," I began hesitantly, trying to keep my voice steady, "are you sure... are you sure we need someone like him? I mean, with his blindness and everything, won’t he be at a disadvantage?" 

Kagaya’s expression softened, as if he could see right through my facade, recognizing the fear and insecurity I was trying so hard to hide. “(Y/N),” he said gently, “Gyomei’s blindness is not a weakness. If anything, it has made him stronger, more attuned to the world in ways we might never understand. But I can see that you’re worried.” 

As Kagaya continued speaking, my irritation grew, feeding on the sense of encroachment that Gyomei's arrival represented. The calm demeanor I had worked so hard to cultivate began to fray, replaced by a surge of anger and resentment I couldn't quite control. My hands clenched into fists, and I struggled to keep my voice steady. 

“Master,” I said, my tone sharper than I intended, “I appreciate your confidence in this Gyomei Himejima, but I don't see why we need to bring in someone new right now. We’ve been managing fine on our own, haven’t we?” 

Kagaya’s smile faltered slightly, his gentle gaze assessing me with a mixture of concern and sadness. “(Y/N), it is not just about our current capabilities. Gyomei possesses unique qualities that will be invaluable to our mission. His strength is not diminished by his blindness; rather, it has been shaped by it.” 

I could feel my pulse quickening, the anger bubbling up despite my efforts to suppress it. “But why does he have to come here now? Why can't we just stick to what we know? Adding someone new... it’s disruptive. I’ve worked so hard to prove myself here, and now it feels like it’s all being undermined.” 

Kagaya’s eyes softened with understanding, but his expression remained steady. “(Y/N), it’s natural to feel apprehensive about change, especially when it feels like it threatens what you’ve worked so hard to build. But remember, the strength of the Corps comes from our unity, from our ability to accept and support each other. Gyomei is not here to diminish your place but to enhance our collective strength.” 

My jaw tightened, and I struggled to maintain control over my emotions. “I just— I don’t want to feel like I’m being replaced or overlooked. I’ve worked so hard for this, and it feels like now I have to compete with someone who is being praised for qualities I don’t understand.” Kagaya's gaze grew more intense, though his voice remained calm and reassuring. “(Y/N), you are a part of the Ubuyashiki family. You are like a daughter to me. Your place here is not in jeopardy. No one can replace you or diminish the importance of what you’ve accomplished. You are needed, just as much as ever.” 

Despite his heartfelt words, I felt a storm of frustration brewing inside me. The notion of being told I was needed, while comforting, seemed insufficient in the face of my growing insecurity. I felt as though Kagaya’s assurances could not bridge the gap between what I had come to believe and the reality he was presenting. 

“I’m sorry, Master,” I said, my voice thick with frustration. “I appreciate what you’re saying, but it’s hard to just accept that everything will stay the same. It feels like everything I’ve worked for is being overshadowed by someone who hasn’t even proven himself yet.” 

Kagaya’s expression did not waver. He stepped closer, his voice carrying a gentle firmness. “(Y/N), I know this is difficult. Change often is. But your value is not determined by how you compare to others. It is inherent in who you are and what you’ve done. You have a unique place in this family, and no one, not even Gyomei, can take that away from you.” 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Years had passed, and with each new addition to the Demon Slayer Corps, my sense of displacement and hostility grew. The family I once thought was my own had expanded beyond recognition, and with every new face, I felt a little more like an outsider in the world I had fought so hard to be a part of. 

When Gyomei Himejima joined, his presence had been intimidating but not unwelcome. He was a reminder of the change Kagaya had spoken of, the new dynamic I had to adapt to. I had grudgingly accepted him, though it took time for me to see his value. The same could not be said for every new member that followed. 

Tengen Uzui, with his flamboyant demeanor and larger-than-life personality, seemed to clash with everything I valued. His bravado grated on me, and I struggled to understand his place in our ranks. His presence felt like an intrusion into a space that was already crowded with my insecurities. 

Sanemi Shinazugawa arrived with a fierce intensity that mirrored my own frustrations. His abrasive nature and fierce attitude seemed to resonate with my own feelings of anger and resentment. It was as if his presence was a reflection of my own hostility, magnified. 

Kyojuro Rengoku brought a fiery passion that was undeniably inspiring but also made me feel inadequate. His unwavering optimism and dedication seemed to cast a shadow on my own struggles. I felt a growing sense of competition, a fear that I would never measure up to his bright, burning spirit. 

Giyu Tomioka, stoic and reserved, was a calming presence but also a constant reminder of the expectations I struggled to meet. His quiet strength was both reassuring and intimidating, a contrast to my own volatile emotions. 

Mitsuri Kanroji arrived with a warmth and kindness that was difficult to reconcile with my own growing bitterness. Her gentle demeanor and unyielding support seemed to highlight my own struggles to connect with the others. 

Obanai Iguro’s strict discipline and unwavering commitment to the Corps served as a constant reminder of the standards I felt I was failing to meet. His dedication, though admirable, only deepened my own insecurities. 

Muichiro Tokito, with his enigmatic and detached nature, was a mystery I struggled to understand. His aloofness felt like a barrier to the camaraderie I longed for, and his presence seemed to accentuate my own sense of alienation. 

Despite my efforts to push past my feelings of resentment, I found it increasingly difficult to accept the growing number of members. The constant influx of new faces only heightened my sense of isolation, making it harder for me to find my place within the expanding Corps. 

Tengen Uzui was hard to ignore—everything about him was larger than life. From the flamboyant way he dressed to the booming voice that seemed to command attention wherever he went. He was always at the center of everything, with a confidence that bordered on arrogance. For someone like me, who had spent so much time in quiet solitude, his presence was overwhelming. 

One afternoon, as I was practicing alone in a secluded part of the forest, I heard the unmistakable sound of his voice cutting through the air. Even before he came into view, I could feel the vibrations of his footsteps, heavy and deliberate. My sensitive ears twitched in irritation. 

"(Y/N)!" he called out, his tone bright and enthusiastic as he approached. "Why are you always hiding away in the shadows? Come join us, we’re all family, you know!" 

I grimaced, trying to focus on the movements of my sword rather than the intrusive sound of his voice. Tengen wasn’t someone you could easily ignore, though. He strolled right up to me, his presence impossible to overlook. 

“I’m not hiding,” I replied curtly, keeping my eyes on the blade in my hands. “I’m training.” 

He chuckled, a deep, resonant sound that made my ears ring. “Training alone is fine and all, but it’s no fun if you never get to show off what you’ve learned. You should come spar with us sometime—let’s see what you’ve got.” 

His words were friendly, even encouraging, but to me, they felt like a challenge. The thought of sparring with someone like Tengen, with all his bravado and flair, made my stomach twist. It wasn’t that I feared losing; it was the idea of being under his scrutiny, of having to endure his overbearing energy. 

“I prefer to train by myself,” I said, trying to keep my tone polite but firm. 

Tengen tilted his head, his expression curious. “You know, you’re way too serious for your own good. Lighten up a little! We’re all here to support each other, not compete. What’s the point of being so isolated?” I narrowed my eyes at Tengen’s remark, a spark of annoyance flaring up. His relentless optimism and insistence on camaraderie grated on my nerves. “Maybe some of us don’t need to be surrounded by people to feel validated,” I shot back, my voice carrying a sharp edge. “Not everyone thrives on being the center of attention.” 

Tengen raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by my snarky tone. But instead of backing off, he smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Oh, is that what this is about? You’re just too cool for the rest of us, huh? Or maybe you’re just worried you won’t measure up?” He leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper.  

“You know, for someone who’s supposed to be part of the Ubuyashiki family, you don’t really look the part.” 

That was the last straw. 

The blood rushed to my face, and before I could stop myself, I exploded. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I shouted, my voice shaking with fury. “You think because I don’t look like them, I don’t belong? I’ve fought for my place here every single day! I’ve bled for it! And you—” I jabbed a finger toward his chest, “you have no idea what it’s like to feel like you don’t belong anywhere! You with your perfect family, your perfect everything!” 

Tengen’s playful expression faltered as he realized he’d struck a nerve, but I wasn’t done. 

“You have no idea what it’s like to be taken in out of pity, to constantly feel like you have to prove you’re worth the space you take up! So don’t you dare stand there and question my place in this family just because I don’t fit your picture of what it should look like!” My voice rose with each word, the frustration and pain I had kept buried for so long finally erupting in a torrent of emotion. "You think it's easy, don't you? Being surrounded by people who were born into this, who have families and histories that tie them to this cause? You think I haven't noticed how everyone looks at me, how they wonder why Kagaya chose someone like me?" 

I was dimly aware of others gathering around, drawn by the commotion. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw familiar faces—Gyomei, Sanemi, Mitsuri, and the others—watching with various degrees of surprise and concern. But I couldn’t stop now, not when all the hurt and anger I had bottled up for so long was finally spilling out. 

“And you, Tengen,” I continued, my voice cracking as I fought to keep the tears at bay, “you with your flashy demeanor and your perfect life, you stand there and judge me? Do you have any idea what it feels like to be constantly reminded that you don’t belong? To know that every time you walk into a room, people are wondering why you’re even here?” 

Tengen, who had been so confident and carefree just moments before, looked stunned. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. The others looked just as shocked, their eyes wide as they listened to me unleash years of pent-up frustration and insecurity. 

“I’ve fought tooth and nail to be where I am,” I went on, my voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve trained alone, bled alone, cried alone, all because I didn’t want to be a burden. I’ve seen how the rest of you bond, how you look out for each other, and I’ve never once felt like I was truly part of that. And now—now you’re telling me I don’t even look like I belong?” 

The silence that followed was deafening. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I stared at Tengen, daring him to say something, anything. The weight of everyone’s eyes on me only made the tension more unbearable, but I couldn’t bring myself to look away. 

Finally, Tengen took a step back, his face serious and his voice low. “(Y/N), I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just… I was just trying to understand.” 

But I wasn’t done. The presence of the other Hashira, the ones who had unknowingly made me feel like an outsider, only fueled the fire inside me. “Understand?” I scoffed bitterly. “You can’t understand. None of you can. You all have your places, your roles, your families. But me? I’m just the stray Kagaya took in. The one who doesn’t fit, no matter how hard I try.” My voice trembled as I continued, the words tumbling out like a dam that had finally burst. “You think you know pain? You think you understand what it’s like to be unwanted?” I could feel the tears welling up, but I refused to let them fall. I needed them to hear this, to understand why I could never just fit in like the rest of them. 

“My father… my so-called father, wasn’t even really mine,” I spat, the bitterness seeping into my tone. “He was a drunk who hated the sight of me because I wasn’t his. My mother—she had me with some man she hooked up with, and when my father found out, he made my life a living hell. He couldn’t stand to look at me, to touch me. And when I tried to reach out, to be a part of their lives, do you know what they did?” 

I held up my hands, the scars still faintly visible from where the boiling water had seared my skin so many years ago. “They poured boiling water over my hands. They told me I was filthy, disgusting, that I didn’t deserve to touch them. They wanted to destroy me, to break me, and they almost did. But I survived. I survived all of it, and for what?” 

The others were silent, their expressions a mix of shock and horror as they listened to the ugly truth of my past. But I couldn’t stop now, not when everything I had buried for so long was finally coming to the surface. 

“My real father didn’t want me either,” I continued, my voice cracking. “I found him once, and he looked at me like I was nothing. Like I was a mistake he wished he could erase. And my mother, she was no better. She sold me to Kagaya for 5000 yen, like I was just some piece of trash she needed to get rid of.” 

My chest heaved with the effort of holding back my sobs, but I forced myself to keep going. “So don’t stand there and tell me I belong here, or that you understand. You don’t know what it’s like to be cast aside by everyone who was supposed to love you, to have to fight every day just to prove you’re worth something. Kagaya… he saved me, but even now, I feel like I’m just that unwanted child he took in out of pity.” 

I finally let the tears fall, unable to hold them back any longer. “I’ve been fighting my whole life, not just against demons, but against this feeling that I’ll never be enough. That no matter what I do, I’ll always be the girl who wasn’t wanted, who didn’t belong.” 

The weight of my confession hung in the air, heavy and oppressive. The Hashira stood there, their faces pale with the realization of just how deep my wounds ran. They had seen me as strong, maybe even intimidating, but now they saw the broken pieces beneath the surface. 

“Maybe… maybe I don’t belong here,” I whispered, the words barely audible as I finally let the despair take hold. “Maybe I never did.” 

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The warm glow of lanterns filled the dining hall of the Ubuyashiki estate, casting a soft light on the low table where Kagaya and Amane Ubuyashiki sat, waiting for the evening meal to be served. The gentle hum of conversation from their children filled the room, but there was an undercurrent of unease that neither Kagaya nor Amane could ignore. 

Kagaya’s usually serene expression was tinged with concern as he glanced at the empty space at the table. “(Y/N) hasn’t arrived yet,” he murmured, his voice gentle but laced with worry. “She’s never this late.” 

Amane nodded, her eyes reflecting the same concern. “It’s unusual for her to miss dinner. She’s always been so diligent about joining us, no matter how intense her training.” 

Their children, who had been quietly conversing among themselves, began to notice the absence of their elder sister. One of the younger girls, a delicate child with soft, dark hair, looked up at her parents with wide, innocent eyes. “Where’s big sister?” she asked, her voice small and worried. “Is she okay?” 

Kagaya reached out to gently pat his daughter’s head, offering her a reassuring smile. “I’m sure she’s fine, my dear. Perhaps she’s still out training and lost track of time.” 

But even as he spoke the words, a sense of unease settled over him. (Y/N) had always been a pillar of strength within their family, someone who, despite her struggles, had always made an effort to be there for her younger siblings. Her absence now felt like a dark cloud over what was usually a peaceful evening. 

Amane rose from her seat, smoothing her kimono as she did. “I’ll go check on her,” she said softly Amane was halfway to the door when Mitsuri Kanroji burst into the dining hall, her usually serene expression now marked by a flurry of worry and urgency. “I’m so sorry for interrupting,” she began breathlessly, her cheeks flushed from running. “But something’s happening, and I thought you should know right away.” 

Kagaya and Amane exchanged a glance, their concern deepening. “What is it, Mitsuri?” Kagaya asked, his voice steady but laced with apprehension. 

Mitsuri’s eyes were wide with alarm. “(Y/N) and Tengen… they’re fighting. It’s not just a verbal argument. It’s a full-on hand-to-hand fight. They’re outside, and it looks like it’s getting out of control.” 

The room fell silent as Kagaya’s face hardened with determination. He stood abruptly, the calm demeanor he usually projected replaced by a stern urgency. “Amane, stay with the children,” he instructed. “I’ll handle this.” 

Amane nodded, her face pale but resolute. “Please, be careful.” 

Kagaya and Mitsuri hurried outside, the cool evening air hitting their faces as they made their way toward the training grounds. The sounds of grunts and the clash of limbs grew louder, guiding them to the scene of the confrontation. As Kagaya and Mitsuri approached the training grounds, the sounds of the fight grew louder, their urgency pushing them faster. They rounded a corner to find (Y/N) and Tengen locked in a fierce struggle, their movements a whirlwind of punches, kicks, and defensive maneuvers. 

Tengen was clearly showing signs of exhaustion, his breathing ragged and his stance unsteady. His speed, which had been his advantage, was faltering under the relentless assault from (Y/N). Despite his agility, he was struggling to keep up with the sheer intensity of (Y/N)’s assault. 

(Y/N) was equally battered, her face streaked with sweat and dirt, her breathing heavy but determined. Her eyes were focused, each strike driven by a mix of anger and frustration. Her movements were fierce and precise, each punch and kick a testament to her inner turmoil. 

Kagaya stepped forward, his voice cutting through the chaos. “Enough!” His tone was commanding, carrying the weight of authority that both combatants could not ignore. 

For a moment, both (Y/N) and Tengen paused, their bodies freezing mid-action as they turned toward Kagaya. The intensity of their fight still lingered in the air, but the immediate clash of fists and feet ceased. 

Kagaya’s eyes softened with a blend of concern and disappointment as he took in the sight before him. “This is not the way to resolve your conflicts,” he said, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. “We are a family, and families support one another, even in times of disagreement.” 

Tengen, breathing heavily and visibly wounded, looked down, his face flushed with both anger and regret. “I’m sorry,” he managed to say, his voice hoarse. “I didn’t mean to push her so far.” 

(Y/N) stood there, her chest heaving as she struggled to regain control of her emotions. Her anger had dissipated, leaving behind a raw vulnerability that was difficult to hide. She looked at Kagaya, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. As Kagaya called out to (Y/N), trying to bridge the gap that had formed, she ignored him, her steps quick and purposeful. The weight of the confrontation, combined with the emotional strain she had been carrying, propelled her forward with an urgency that left no room for pause. 

Her room was her sanctuary, a place where she could hide from the eyes of others and the expectations placed upon her. She rushed through the hallway, her heart pounding in her chest, and threw open the door with a force that made it slam against the wall. 

Inside, she collapsed onto her bed, burying her face in her hands as the tears she had fought so hard to contain finally spilled forth. The raw vulnerability that had been exposed during the fight now gave way to an overwhelming sense of despair. She had always prided herself on her strength, but in that moment, she felt utterly defeated. 

As the tears streamed down (Y/N)’s face, the weight of her own anguish became unbearable. Her room, once a refuge, now felt like a prison, enclosing her in her darkest thoughts. She buried her face in her hands, the raw emotion making her shoulders shake with each sob. 

In her desperation, (Y/N) reached for a pot she kept hidden in the corner of her room. It was a vessel she had used in the past to punish herself—a cruel reminder of the torment she had endured. She filled it with water from the small kettle she kept on a low flame and watched as it began to heat. The steam rising from it seemed almost to mock her, a cruel echo of the suffering she had faced. 

The minutes ticked by painfully slow, each one amplifying her internal struggle. Finally, she lifted the pot, her hands trembling with both anger and fear. The boiling water sloshed ominously, a dark promise of the pain she was about to inflict upon herself. 

She hesitated, her breath catching in her throat. The old scars of her past—her mother’s harsh punishment, her father’s neglect—flared up in her mind. The boiling water was more than just a tool of self-harm; it was a symbol of everything she wished to escape but felt unable to. 

In a moment of bleak determination, (Y/N) held the pot over her hands. The thought of finally ridding herself of the hands that had once been subjected to such cruelty was almost seductive. Yet, a part of her clung to the hope that there might still be a way out of the darkness that had consumed her. Her grip tightened on the pot, the steam curling around her hands and face as she wrestled with the decision. The weight of her past pressed down on her with unbearable force, and in her mind, the boiling water symbolized a final escape from the relentless torment of her memories. 

With a shuddering breath, (Y/N) tilted the pot, and the searing hot water cascaded over her hands. The immediate pain was intense, a white-hot agony that sent sharp cries escaping her lips. The sensation of the scalding water was like a cruel echo of the suffering she had felt throughout her life. 

As the water flowed, the agony became a paradoxical release—a physical manifestation of the emotional pain she had struggled to articulate. The searing heat burned not just her flesh but also her heart, giving a fleeting, tangible form to the suffering she had been grappling with in silence. 

The burning sensation intensified, and (Y/N) gasped, her eyes widening in shock and torment. She dropped the pot, the remaining water splashing onto the floor, leaving her hands red and blistered. The pain was blinding, almost overwhelming, but in its brutal clarity, it forced her to confront the depth of her self-destructive desperation. 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

pt.3? anyone??

[808airsoftbros]

A Part of Me Lives Inside Me (Kim Jiwon)

Author: Just a story that I came up in my head and the inspiration came from another creepypasta story I listened. If you want to check out more stories do go to my Masterlist

Author's POV

It was uneventful day for Kim Y/N as he was driving home after his long day of work in the office, he was looking forward to the comfort of his home and to see his wife.

"Oh, you've gotta be kidding me..." He muttered and groaned as he saw a large pack of cars backed up in an intersection.

He peered his head out of the car window to get a better look and there he saw multiple ambulances tending to a major accident.

Deeply sighing knowing that this will make him very late and will probably be midnight by the time he gets home as this will take a while for this to clear up.

When the accident was finally cleaned up, traffic was flowing once again but Y/N sped up a little to make up lost time.

Passing through yellow lights right before it turned red and breaking the speed limit without miraculously getting caught by the police.

However, this would soon turn consequential as suddenly he saw an incoming freight truck but it was too late for him to react...

*crash*

It was all in a blur, his car collided right into the truck, and the front bumper was bent and broken along with the truck but they weren't the most damaged...

That honor belonged to our dear friend, Kim Y/N, his blood was everywhere and he soon passed out from losing too much blood along with God knows what injuries.

Soon EMS arrived at the scene, the truck driver luckily made it out with a few scratches but Y/N had to be hauled to the hospital as soon as possible.

Jiwon on the other hand was at home worrying and wondering what could be holding up her husband this late and was about to call him until her phone rang.

When she realized it was the local hospital, she answered it and the nurse informed her of the accident and she was heartbroken and shocked.

Not wasting a moment further, she grabbed her keys and rushed to the hospital, by the time she arrived, Y/N was covered in bandages and plaster completely unconscious.

"Mister Kim is in a coma, we're not entirely sure when or if he'll wake up, he got himself into a nasty accident..." The doctor grimly informed her.

Though Jiwon didn't like it, she knew there was nothing more she could do for him but be there for him, day after day, night after night, she visited him.

As for Y/N, in his coma, he was having strange visions of an infant crying and voices but he couldn't make out what they were saying or what was going on.

One night, Y/N finally awoke he looked around to see he was alone in a hospital room and covered in bandages making him immobilized as his body was too injured to move at all.

"Uhhh... What happened...?" He muttered trying to gather his thoughts.

The room was dark, he looked through the small window at the door in the hallway but there was no one there and he started to feel a bit lonely.

He looked at the clock to see it was three in the morning and decided it was best to get some rest.

But Y/N's sleep was anything but peaceful as he had those bizarre dreams again and he saw a surgeon performing some kind of operation but he before he could see who he was operating on he woke up and gasped.

His spook startled Jiwon who happened to be in the room with him and her eyes widened in surprise.

"J-Jagi! You're awake!" She exclaimed with a big smile with a tear coming out of her eye.

"Y-Yeah... What happened...? Last thing I remember was a truck heading straight towards me and I just blacked out," He asked and she sighed.

"You got into an accident, the doctor was worried you wouldn't make it but you seem to be fine for now, how are you feeling? You've been out for two weeks," She checked.

"Fine I guess..." He replied and she raised an eyebrow.

"Is something wrong, my dear?" She asked me and Y/N sighed as he didn't know how to put it.

Y/N explained what he saw in his dreams as best as his ability and by the time he finished, she was dead silent and had a blank expression devoid of any emotion.

"Oh... Well, dreams are dreams, they don't mean anything... Maybe it's just a side effect of your coma," Jiwon tried to brush it off.

However, this didn't entirely convince him as he felt that his wife knew something that he didn't but he chose not to push it.

After that, the doctor checked on him and informed them that he would be released after few weeks for him to be transported onto a wheelchair.

Throughout that time, however, Y/N's time in the hospital made him uncomfortable and felt nothing but dread and a sense of emptiness and he wished he'd be discharged sooner.

One night, Y/N couldn't sleep, he was alone in the room once again but he felt like something or someone was watching him from the shadows of the room.

"W-Who's there?" He nervously called out but of course, there was no response.

Sighing as he once again thinks he was hallucinating and feeling too much on edge driving him to paranoia, he was about to go back to sleep when he spotted a shadow figure standing in the corner.

At first, Y/N rubbed his eyes making sure he wasn't seeing things but the figure was still there, standing there motionless, until suddenly, his vision blacked out and the figure was right by his bed.

"W-What are you doing here...? Who are you...?" He quivered in fear and as the figure was closer he got a better look at it and his jaw dropped.

The figure... The man standing before him... Looked exactly like him... But there was no face, just a hollow shell resembling a black hole, he noticed that parts of his body like his shoulder blade, spine, and some other parts were missing.

Y/N shivered and was too afraid to say anything, he didn't understand any of it or why the faceless man resembling him was just staring at him, not moving a single inch.

There was nothing he can do about it, he was stuck in that room, and eventually one response came to his mind.

"W-What are you...?" He nervously asked.

Although he wasn't sure he swore he heard a whisper in his ear, whatever it was... Seemed to be his answer.

"I'm sorry Misses and Mister Kim, but seeing that your son is in a dire state of need, I see no other option..."

"Are you mad?! How would you think my son would feel about this?! This whole thing is just barbaric!"

"Honey, listen to him... He's long gone and we can't lose another... Please, it's the only way..."

The whispers stopped, strangely, all of this felt familiar to him and a faint memory began to play in his head, he was in an operation room surrounded by a doctor and nurses.

He saw his passed mother and father with anxious faces and whispered to each other.

*Door opens*

Suddenly, the doors swung open, and the lights flickered on illuminating the room and temporarily blinding his vision but when his eyes adjusted to the light... The faceless man vanished without a trace like he was never there in the first place.

"Y/N! Are you okay?! We saw your heart monitor spiking!" The nurse asked urgently and checked my vitals.

I was sweating cats and dogs, I didn't know what to make of it... That strange twin and those whispers from my parents.

"I-I'm fine... Just a little paranoid is all..." Y/N assured but the nurse didn't seem entirely convinced as sleeping in a room shouldn't have been this impactful to his health.

The nurse reported this to the doctor by morning, and he grew very concerned telling the nurse to request Jiwon's presence as he had an urgent matter to speak about.

When Jiwon arrived to the hospital, the doctor explained the sudden spike in his heart rate last night and he suspected one thing...

"He's good enough to be discharged... But keep a close eye on him," The doctor instructed and Jiwon nodded.

"Yes, Appa, I will do so," Jiwon answered and promised to take time off her work.

After Y/N heard the news of his discharge, he was most relieved that he would be out of that God-forsaken room, even so, he could not stop thinking about those dreams and that faceless twin.

Y/N would often keep to himself since then, Jiwon would ask what happened that night but all he would tell was that it was a figment of his imagination.

But I wonder if Y/N is telling the truth... Don't you?

[ishimondoevents]

Here are the prompts. Thank you to everyone who contributed ideas to this! The list will be written down below the cut with some ideas for those who want a little elaboration, a little help brainstorming, or simply understand how loosely prompts can be interperted!

Please make sure to check out the RULES AND F.A.Q. so we can have a smooth week.

July 14th: Family / Dates

July 15th: Promise / Sickness

July 16th: Roleswap / Seasons

July 17th: Competition / Future

July 18th: Talentswap / Gifts

July 19th: Confessions / Soulmates

July 20th: Free Day*

* For the Free Day, you are free to use a prompt that you hadn't used on one of the previous days if you would prefer a specific prompt to follow.

Remember— these are just ideas to help with brainstorming, you are not limited to interpreting the prompts in just these ways. 

Family: You could choose to interpret this as being in relation family members (canon or head cannoned) for a scenario like meeting the in-laws; or them building one of their own (with pets, fan kids, v3 kid AUs, etc). Another angle could be a reflection on their own childhoods, with a focus on their family life/dynamics to tie it back to the prompt.

Dates: Quite a few options to go with, off the top of my head: first dates, blind dates, double/group date, fake dating, or even a study date lol. This could also be interpreted in the sense of important dates like birthdays, anniversary, etc.

Promise: This one might be a tad bit easier on the writers since all you'd need to really do to meet the prompt is throw in one 'promise between men', but you can definetly get creative with it. You could go a more canon route of 'I'll build your house bro' or 'We'll get out of the killing game alive' to anything else you could think of, big or small— perhaps even broken promises (as serious or silly as you'd like, e.g. 'you promised you'd stop speeding')

Sickness: Just a few ideas besides a literal cold— lovesickness (figurative or more literal like a hanahaki AU), a despair disease scenario, or a mental health day.

Roleswap: Anything that generally swaps the canon role would apply here. So Protagonist AUs, Mastermind AU, Survivor/Future Foundation AUs would all be applicable here. Remnants of Despair AUs may also apply, see the elaboration given in the Talentswap section.

Seasons: Take this as liberally as you'd like. Focus on one season or all; focus on seasonal activities like going to the beach, a seasonal school vacation; or a seasonal holiday/festival, just to offer a few different ways you could try and meet this prompt. 

Competition: With how competitive these two are, hopefully this won't end being too restrictive. Be this between the two of them, one rooting for the other for sports/other extracurricular activities, or a double date scenario with someone as competitively spirited. You could also stick to more canon moments for reference like the Sauna Scene or the race between Mondo and Daiya.

Future: You could do something with Futuristic themes like cyborgs/androids/etc. Or more broadly approach the prompt with discussions of the future (v3 talentplan style), or in settings where they're older (be that 30 or 80, however you wish to interpert it). 

Talentswaps: The difference from the roleswap Is that the former implies the talent isn't changed, just the role within the story. A talentswap may change several factors, but most notably the talent. So whether you're swapping just the talents between the THH cast or swapping game premises as well (e.g. v3 au with SHSL Inventor Oowada), all of that would be better suited here. Remnants of Despair AUs could go here if it's a talent swap that includes SDR2's general premise, but if the talents were to remain the same AND the concept to be (for example) that Junko chose Class 78 over 77 to brainwash, then that could fall under a Roleswap instead.

Gifts: This should hopefully be easier to achieve as a prompt, but this could be around any kind of celebration involving gifting (birthdays, holidays, etc.), or just a general occasion of wanting to get a gift. Maybe focusing on having difficulty with finding a present, etc.

Confessions: This could be anything from a love confession, or a completely innocuous thing like— oops, I’m the asshole that has been in your parking spot bc I’m dyslexic and thought it was mine meet cute(?). Perhaps it could be one of them receiving a love confession and the reaction around it.

Soulmates: Since I know there are quite a few ideas people have come up with over the years for soulmate AUs, I think this one should also not be too difficult (hopefully).

Here are four lists I got just from googling, should you need a few ideas about what you might do: 

https://www.tumblr.com/r-evolve-art/144380748003/

https://www.tumblr.com/ausforsoulmates/190255248494/

https://www.tumblr.com/thegeminisage/94680598838/

https://www.tumblr.com/creativepromptsforwriting/647547186533531648/

You could also go more straightforward with red string of fate concepts for soulmates as well, or just the idea of soulmates, not necessarily a soulmate AU if none speak to you!

[kurogxrix]

150 kilometers

Police Officer!Ghost x reader

IN WHICH Officer Ghost catches you speeding way past the limit, but you to think of a way or two to avoid a ticket.

WC: 5.6k

Warnings: ANGST, smut, reader and Simon have history, oral (M), unprotected PinV, creampie, Simon’s unresolved feelings.

“My momma told me that the money outgrew you,” 

The sound of Beyoncé’s ‘AMERICA HAS A PROBLEM’ was blasting through your car’s radio, barely audible with the way the passing wind was howling so aggressively. You had no one else to blame but yourself, the numbers 150 were in blast on your speedometer, yet you pretended to fall blind to it. It was all the more irresponsible and dangerous, yet who cared if you exceeded the 80km/h speed limit plastered on the signs each few metres if there was no one to witness the act but yourself. 

Solitude greeted you upon the streets, but you preferred it that way anyway. 

Nevertheless, one of your hands left the wheel to usher the sound up. Kendrick just had that effect on people. The breeze brushed through your freshly done hair, ruffling the style that you’d wasted an hour doing that same morning. Hair be damned, you had better places to be than on that deserted road. The engine of your pink convertible roared as you pressed further onto the pedal, a precious jewel that your father had gifted you. One that you’d gotten customised to your heart's extent. 

The sudden voice of the ‘Maps’ app assistant made you jolt slightly in your seat, making your car swerve about a few centimetres to the left. You shook your head in disappointment, god knows that that’d have ended if you were on the main road. The openings of the bag resting on the passenger seat beside you ruffled with the passing wind, the sun hitting your skin in all the most comforting ways. 

Nothing on this beautifully sunny day could have prepared you for the sudden flash of red and blue behind you, which could barely be seen considering the weather. You were 100% sure that this cop had popped out of thin air, because besides the lack of hiding spots besides the road, you knew that no car had followed you off the busy main road. Unless they’d broken the law and driven 70km/h above the speed limit alongside you. You could probably use that argument against said cop, yet again you feared he’d charge you extra just for getting smart with him. 

To top the absolute mess that you had gotten yourself into, the cop just had to signal you. The sound of his blaring alarm made a wave of embarrassment wash down your spine, despite being the two lone people accepting the street. 

“Fuck,” you cursed, bring the car to a stop once you’d bordered in to the side. You brushed down the vanity mirror before attempting to take your hair quickly, because if you were to get a ticket, then you might as well look amazing while doing it. 

Simon on his side was far too busy trying to recollect himself before leaving the car, pretending to busy himself with the fetch of his talkie-walkie as he inhaled a whole yard worth of air into his lungs. The packet of cigarettes lodged in his breast pocket begged at him for a second of his time, but he also had duties calling out for him. 

Out of all odds, he’d fallen on your car with you in it while he was on duty. He could have just called it a day and let you escape with the little victory of outrunning a cop, he’d be far better than he was then. 

Nevertheless, the push of his SUV door felt even heavier than it did on normal days. He feels a tinge of unease for a man that harbours the muscles that he does, but he convinced himself that he just wasn’t in his element at that moment. 

Unenthusiastic brown eyes fell upon the familiar licence plate, and suddenly he didn’t feel as brave as he did that same morning. His booted feet were bringing him forwards but his mind couldn’t help but reel further backwards. To the times where you’d both been mindless enough to mess around, unaware of all but the sweet scent of those rose candles that you’d lit before he’d come over. To the feeling of the sheets pooled around his bare hips in the aftermath of it all, and how distant the feel of your arms wrapped around his torso as you slept soundly now felt. 

Simon shook the intrusive thoughts away, raising his head and retaking the stance of the brave officer that he was. After all, all he needed to do was give you your ticket, reprimand you and send you off to wherever you were heading to. What was all the fuss about? Even if he knew, he would let his brain bother him. 

The heavy thud of his boots stopped beside your car door, the lack of protection from the windows and roof only scaring you now. 

“Do you know why I stopped you today?” you heard the annoyed sigh come, before the familiar tune of a middle aged man’s voice hit your ears. You turned your head towards his side so fast that you believed you would have broken it. Nevertheless, here he stood before you in all of his glory; Simon Riley, the man who’d rocked your world a couple of moons ago. 

You’d both agreed on the whole no strings attached thing, but you couldn’t stop the burning feeling in your chest once you realised on that fateful night that Simon wasn’t coming back. That the brit wouldn’t be here to ruffle your sheets and leave the bed intact while you hit the showers anymore. That the scent of roses would never feel as romantic as it did in his wake. It almost pained you to throw away that extra toothbrush that you’d gotten for him considering the amount of days a week he’d woken up at your house rather than his. 

You shook the thoughts away before hitting him with that overly sickening sweet smile of yours that you offered to all the others, because it wasn’t Simon Riley that you were facing at the instant, it was Officer Ghost. 

“I don’t know Officer, mind explaining to me?” The sultry tone of your question made Simon mentally double back. Be damned, your words even shocked you for a solid second before you could recover. Whatever the fuck you were doing flirting with your ex fling just to get out of a speed ticket? Only a madwoman would know. 

But of course you would, you knew that Simon had once been weak to your charms, and if you need to use that weakness of him at anytime; it would for sure be now. The blond can’t help his eyes from drifting into your car as he processed your words, admiring the personal touches that you’d gotten done in the last few months. 

He notes the fact that you’re barefoot because of the pair of heels that we’re resting under the passenger seat. You’d probably wear them later to whatever you were heading. Could it be to a boyfriend's house? To the club maybe where you’d meet and flirt with the young, hammered men that dared to lay their creeping eyes on you? Simon shook the stupid thoughts away, so what if you had a boyfriend? There was never something consistent going on between you two, and anyways your arrangement had ended long ago. You were free to date of fuck whichever guy you wanted to, he didn’t feel like he had a right to pry. 

Yet why did he feel a tinge of jealousy each time the thought would pop up in his head, like a nightmare haunting him at every given moment. The thought picked at him, a nasty feeling stirring in his abdomen tinged with shame. He was the one who’s decided to cut off all strings in the first place, strings that you'd both agreed to stray away from. Yet all he felt was guilt for the durations of the few months you’ve spent apart after the ‘break up’. 

“Was I driving too fast, officer? I didn’t even notice.” The flirtatious giggle broke Simon away from his daydream, and his eyes quickly adjusted to the new scene. You were no longer seated, belted in the comfort of your seat. Instead, your knees were planted firmly on your seat, digging into the leather. He noticed that you were standing far closer than you previously were in your seated position, your arms extended so you could rest your palms along the place where your windows would be. 

Fuck, all he wanted to do was to take you right there. Even if this really was the last time you’d see each other in a while or at all, he just wanted to feel you for a last time after so long spent without your warmth. It was shameful really, this was the first time you’d seen each other after the events of your silent heartbreak, yet all he wished for was to have his way with you on the warm leather backseats of your car. 

He couldn’t care less about the fact that you had a convertible, nobody even used this street. Nobody other than you of course, because you wouldn’t have been in this predicament if not. 

“You okay?” Simon recognized the fake tune of concern in your question as your palm made contact with the tactical vest upon his chest, resting on the right side of his torso. His eyes were firm and threatening once they reached yours, but you didn’t back down. You'd been with him once, he didn’t scare you as he did others. His resolve completely melted away the instant that you flashed him those down eyes that you knew he couldn’t resist. 

For a split second, Simon allowed his eyes to drift down onto you. If you were shamelessly and all the more not trying to hide the fact that you were flirting with him just to escape a fine, then he shouldn’t have to hide his wandering gaze anyway. Hardened brown iris rounded the corner, observing the way your dress stuck perfectly to your body. The way you were squeezing your arms to accentuate the low cut of that beautiful dress that you wore with pride. 

He mentally cursed himself as he felt the material of his cargos tightening under his growing erection, and he had no one else to blame but you. The way you were smiling at him in that coy manner made him want to have you sobbing and choking around his cock, eyes full of tears and mascara leaking down your cheeks. If anything, he wanted to ruin you before you arrived at your destination, and a nasty side of him wished you were actually off to see a guy. 

Suddenly, Simon jerked back once he felt the palm of your hand pawing at his erection. He’s taken by surprise at your boldness, not that you were shy with him before, it’s just been so long. He grunts in disapproval at the situation before moving further away from your car to try and stop himself from actually doing what he wishes to do to you. Because it’s not fair on you, you should be yelling at him to hurry up and fine you before leaving. Yell at him for stalling just to be in your presence when he made you feel like he didn’t want it before.  

Yet, Simon watched intently as you sat up further onto your knees, a hand reaching out for him once more. He allows your hand to hover over the gear on his tactical vest before succumbing to the weak pull to your way. He could have always fought back if he wanted to, pulled further away instead of leading himself right where you wanted him to be. No matter how burly or tatted he was on the outside, he submitted to you unlike the man that he was. 

“Cmon, how long has it been Si? Have you missed this? Just the two of us here, you don’t gotta hold it in.” The silence that Ghost held was broken once your hand dipped down to his pants once more, a hearty groan escaping his throat involuntary. Your hand went to the underside of his clothed crotch, caressing what you could, what he offered. 

Yet it wasn’t enough to satiate you, and the little devil resting on your shoulder whispered ungodly things to you. Officer Ghost was just so tall, it was like the world was on your side once you’d noticed that his waistline just happened to reach above the window line of your car. It helped that the vehicle was rather low, but it failed to help with the sultry thoughts brewing in your head. The thought of sucking off Ghost out here, from your car, sent heat rushing down your core. 

“Let me take care of you,” you muttered, your hand tightening around his hard, clothed cock. A shudder ran thick down Simon's back, and he didn’t need much contemplating to make up his mind. Rough gloved hands made contact with your jaw faster than you could comprehend, and next thing you knew, the pair of lips that you’d been reminiscing fell upon yours. He took pride in the way you had to tilt your head upwards to chase his lips. 

The kiss was soft at first, almost apologetic for everything that he’d put you through. Like he was apologising for having you fall for him, and most likely for leaving when you thought things were advancing between the two of you. When his apology went through, his left hand slid further down to the back of your neck. Like a switch had been pressed inside of him, the kiss grew rougher as you felt Simon’s tongue poking at your bottom lip. You didn’t falter, fighting for dominance despite knowing that he’d always overpower you. 

Your hands were far too busy trying to blindly understand the mechanism of his belt to worry about much else, before your fingers deciphered the mess of a buckle, pulling free the belt from his waist. Simon’s fingers grasped tightly at the tiny hairs littering your nape as he felt your hand slipping past his waistband, finally offering the pleasure he seeked as your warm palm made contact with his cock. 

Hell, you’d both missed this so much. It didn’t  matter if you were the one giving, you missed it just as much as he did. You couldn’t get very far before Simon pulled away from you, huge palm gripping at your wrist to pull your hand out of the confinement of his boxers. It disappointed you at first, pulling your hands back to yourself while watching him in puzzlement. He didn’t allow you to stay upset much longer as he pulled back just enough to pull his pants down far enough for everything that needs to be exposed, to be exposed. 

You nearly drooled at the sight of his heavy cock flushing against his clothed torso, where you knew hid a chiselled body unlike the other men you’d ever been with. He’s thick, but nothing you can’t take, with a thin land of hair at the base that he keeps nicely trimmed. Pulsing veins ran across his cock in the most mouth watering way you could ever imagine, and you just couldn’t wait to take him in your mouth. 

“You really think you’re ready? ‘Mean s’been a while now hasn’t it?” The smug smile that raised upon your lips was completely involuntary, though you enjoyed the fact that the cocky Simon that you loved was once more back. One hand gripped at the base of his cock as he dragged the heavy weight down, angling it towards your eager mouth. He’s a tease, always has been, and it didn’t matter that your torso was growing an indented line from the way you were bent over the side of your car, ass in the air and awaiting his cock patiently. 

His other hand moved to grab at your jaw, a delicious cocktail between the gentleness of his touch and roughness of his palm made you squeeze your thighs together. Simon tilted your head up, squeezing your cheeks together as he enjoyed the way your lips pucker. It’s cute, he thinks. He’d like to ruin your pretty little face. 

So he does just that, his feet moving on their own as he approaches you. He couldn’t care less that you’re transgressing the law by having public relations, he’s a cop yes, but inside he’s just a man. You wasted no time getting into action, pretty glossy lips wrapping softly around the tip of his cock. It’s flushed red and leaking precum that tastes funky on your tongue, but you’re so used to it by now that you’ve actually started to like it. 

Your tongue swiped along his slit in the way you knew Simon relishes, and by the way he tilted his head back with a groan, you knew it was no different this time. Your mouth worked him inch by inch, lubricating his cock slowly by slowly with your saliva. No inch went untouched. What you couldn’t reach, you tried to force down your throat. And what you still couldn’t received a kitten lick here and there, a swipe of your tongue each time you thought it got neglected. 

Simon's hand was now fully into your hair, a killer grip to it that had your scalp burning. Front and back, his hand guided your mouth back and forth on his dick at the speed he desired. You complied with no complaints. Taking him further down your throat, tongue running expertly down his veins as he shuddered once more. You got your hands in the business too, either gripping onto his shirt for stability or altering between the base of his cock and his balls. 

He's restless, the ball of his boots digging through the dirt beneath his feet. You could tell he was close by the way his groans grew in number by the second, and the grip he had of your hair hurt better than bad. The handsome officer before you had to ground a hand down onto your car to stabilise himself as you sucked the living shit out of him, another flick to his slit and he was off seeing the stars on a holiday in the galaxy. 

For a second, there was static, and then there was a voice. It rebounded into the distance, alongside the sloppy sounds of you sucking Simon’s cock like it was the last thing you were bound to do on earth. “-ost, you copy?” Again, the voice came back and Ghost could make out the harsh sound of his coworkers voice. 

He groaned in disgust, nothing like hearing the voice of the guy you work with while getting the sloppiest head by some chick you secretly fancy. A minute passed by before Ghost aggressively threw his hand at the talkie-walkie, unlatching it from the velcro with a loud crack. Simon swore to the god above that he nearly came as he looked down to the sight of your doe eyes looking at him expectedly through your mascara coated eyelashes. 

His hands tightened impossibly further in your hair as he motioned for you to continue sucking, which you did. 

“Ghost here, copy.” a curt and unbothered reply, all in the Ghost mannerism. 

His hand let go of your hair, instead claiming a spot upon your jaw. A big thumb caressed at your cheek, making the corners of your lips twist into a smile with your mouth full. You could feel him start to rock in your mouth slightly, trying to restrain himself from fucking your mouth roughly until your jaw stayed clamped shut. 

“We need you on lane 3, s’that possible?” static again, the voice came out muffled. He thought for a solid second, a moan escaping his throat thankfully before he could press on the button. 

“Give me a minute and I'm all yours,” his eyes shifted to yours throughout the sentence, making your cunt clench over nothing as you soaked your panties pathetically. Besides you, the talkie-walkie did a dramatic jump to the leather seat as Simon threw it. It rebounded and hit the floor instead, but nothing he’d care much about. 

You brought a hand up to cup the base of Simon’s cock in your hand as your mouth took a short break to ease your paining jaw, but before you could go back to work, he was completely pulled out of the warm comfort of your mouth. A trail of saliva connected you both in an unholy mix and he pulled away, his fingers clenching around your jaw. Your eyes never met his in the exchange, too busy relishing in the way his hard length looked and glistened coated in your saliva. Fuck, you really had a problem, you could’ve sworn you’d go crazy if Simon didn’t fuck you right then. 

“Get in the back, we don’t have much time.” he grumbled like you were the one asking for too much. If anything, the way his hard cock twitched at the disappearance of your touch made you think quite the opposite. Quickly hopping in the back and abandoning your place in the front seat, you watched as Simon made his way to the back door from outside.

He opened the door, eager to have you and ready for all until- 

“Woaaaaah, nobody’s getting in with their nasty ass shoes you hear me? Get them off, cmon” you pushed at his chest before he could even open the door, making Simon stop and stare at you dumbfounded. When he made no move to untie his boots and moved to open the door once more, you pushed harder against his chest, an eyebrow up to show that you weren’t fucking around. 

A defeated sigh left him as he bent down, undoing the double knots that he’d done that same morning. You smiled contentedly in success, moving away for him to have a seat so he’d be able to carefully slide his shoes off. You didn’t miss the grumbling from the grouchy middle aged man as he sat upon your seats, large hands working together to throw his boots off cleanly somewhere near. 

You took the time being to ready yourself, slipping a finger on each side of the waistband of your panties before pulling down. The cute, patterned garment pooled by your ankles before you could pry them off with your finger, tossing the pair safely in the cup holder by the door so you wouldn’t lose it. Or rather so it wouldn’t get stolen, god knows how many pairs you’d lost ever since your altercation with a certain bulky brit. 

You faced away from Simon, only aware of his approach once his shadow loomed over you. His hands gripped your hips in desperation, by surprise as it had you silently gasping. 

“Gotta prep you?” he muttered before pulling you flushed against him. You could feel the seam of his jeans by your lower thighs, meaning that he’d had the time to pull them further down, but high enough to pull back up in case anyone was to cross you both. A breathy whine left your throat as you felt him force a hand between the both of your bodies, hand grasping at the base of his cock to reposition himself. 

You pushed yourself impossibly back into his chest, the previous question had dissipated into the air as you felt your ability to talk had been ripped from you. He wasted no time manhandling you like he wished, your left hand grabbing onto the empty space of the open window as he pushed the tip of his hard cock through the entrance of your cunt. 

He assumed you didn’t need any prepping by the way you soaked his cock the second he made contact, but who was he to complain? Steadying himself, his left hand came to accompany yours across the window place, back flushed with his clothes torso, his gear digging into your flesh through the thin fabric of your dress. 

The mewl that escaped you as he repositioned himself was embarrassingly needy but you needed him now, no time to wait. Simon got the memo if anything, earning you some short thrusts that made him sink further and further into your heat with every push. Feeling weak already, your hand trembled under your own weight. 

He didn’t seem to mind it one bit, using his free hand to lace under you as he pushed against your chest, pulling you flushed against him once more. His strength was unmatched, he could keep himself up with only his knees for who knows how long, and you suspected that he’d worked in something more complex than the police squad for a while before switching. 

It didn’t matter anyways, what did was the feeling of Simon’s hard cock now buried to the hilt inside of you. His flushed tip kissed your cervix, a delicious pain that had tears springing to the corners of your eyes. If Simon had been less hurried he’d probably kiss them away, but Ghost felt the need to be selfish today. 

Slowly, the rhythm of his thrusts began picking up the pace as you felt the car rocking softly with the heavy weight of the muscular officer behind you. A hand scurrying down between your bodies, inching your dress further up your thighs so he could access whatever he wanted to, whenever he felt like it. 

“F-fuck Si, just like that,” you whined, urging him to pick up the pace. His hipbone slammed devilishly onto your ass and the noise reverberated around the empty space surrounding you both. Simon was sure that anyone around a couple of kilometres could hear you moaning like it was your last day on earth, but he just couldn’t get himself to do anything about it. The deserted area left him with some peace of mind. 

A sudden harsh thrust had you nearly doubling over, your hand tightening around the door as you shut your eyes closed. He pushed himself closer to your back, his head now stuffed in the crook of your neck as you drowned in the breathy groans that he was letting out. Your teeth found your bottom lip in a painful game of tug and war after Simon dropped a hand between your legs to tease at your clit. Circular motions had your vision clouding with pleasure, legs jelly under your own and Simon's weight. 

“Let go darlin’, I can tell you’re tryna hold back.” He accentuated with a sharp thrust, and this time you really couldn’t hold your own body up anymore. The backseat was cramped to the point where Simon's bulky ass frame nearly caused the both of you to be squeezed off, but the proximity was enjoyable after so much time spent apart. 

You felt a familiar coil knotting in your lower belly, and all it took was a couple more precise strokes from his veiny cock and a nibble to the sensitive underside of your neck for you to let go, white clouding your vision as you clenched tightly around him. The noise that the orgasm pulled out of you was so intense that you actually believed this time that people around a mile in range could’ve actually heard the echo. 

One of your hands darted away from the door to latch onto Simon's arm that was still busy keeping you upright, contorting the limb in some strange way despite the cramped setting. Your legs gave out with the trembling, blissful orgasm still working wonders on your recovering state. Simon didn’t waste any time working on his own now that he’d successfully satiated you. 

He allowed your body you give down, unwrapping his arm from under your torso so that your upper body rests flush against the leather seat. He pulled both hands back your hips to lift your ass up, meeting his own hips as the aggressive clash of flesh made a lustful sound that fed his cravings. His right hand dipped back down to rest above your head, but it wasn’t long before he was pushing you further into the seat. 

Simon was never really a rough lover, but at that moment something had snapped deep inside of him. He fucked you like he was afraid of never getting the chance to ever do it again. He fucked you like he believed he should’ve on that last day before he left for good. His knees were digging into leather seat so harshly that you were sure it was going to leave an indent for a day and a half, 

You sobbed at the overstimulating feeling of his cock repeatedly hitting the far spot inside your spent cunt over and over again, chasing the high that you’d just gotten over recently. Your tears fell upon the expensive leather of the sofa as your cries were muffled by his unrelenting pushing hand. 

You could tell he was close again when his hands left you to gently grasp at your hair, moving them to one side of your neck as he stabilised his weight by placing both hands besides your head. You remembered how handsy and ‘fidgety’ he got in some way when he was close to finishing. Then there were the few last hard thrusts that had you gripping onto the edge of the sofa for dear life, pumping your cunt full of his seed with an actual guttural moan that had you clenching all over again. 

You manoeuvred your body to shake your arms away from the position, biting onto your thumb to stop yourself from crying out loud with the way his short little thrusts were about to send you over the edge again. You didn’t think you could handle cuming once more without making an absolute mess of your car, further less if it was Ghost that made you finish. 

Even after his movements stabilised, you could still feel the warm sensation of his spent seeping out of you in excess, pussy full and satiated for as long as it needed to be. That was new, the whole fucking without a condom thing, let alone finishing inside of you. You couldn’t say you disliked the feeling. The sensation of his raw, meaty cock inside of you was something that you could sure as hell get used to. 

It felt like hours before Simon pulled out, arousal dribbling out of your tight cunt and down into your seat. You’d deal with the stains later, if anything you’d get the whole seat redone with that hard earned money that you’d made yourself while you were learning to get over the man that sat right beside you then. 

It was crazy to think of how much time it had taken you to actually get over Simon leaving, abandoning you after things had seemed to actually go somewhere between the two of you. You should’ve been ashamed of yourself for giving in without even trying to fight, maybe now he thought of you as some easy thing that he could always come back to once or twice a month when he felt desperate. You knew you should have more self respect but yet a part of you can’t seem to blame Simon for the way things had gone down between you two. 

Obviously you shouldn’t have gotten ahead of yourself and thought he’d reciprocate those feelings that you’d so unfortunately caught for him along the terms of your ‘no strings attached’ agreement. It wasn’t really his fault for following the terms that you’d both agreed to. Yet it hurt for a while to think that you’d fallen so hard for a man that you believed didn’t even see you further than for sex. 

You heard the sound of his fly before you could even see him buckling his belt back on. The part of you who’d always thought you’d meant a little more to him was desperately hurting, but nothing you’d allow Simon to see. After all, you'd initiated what happened on that day, to get out of a ticket or not, you had no one else to blame for the humiliation that you brought upon yourself. 

“Guess that’s settled then.” the blond muttered, typical awkwardness lacing his words. Your head turned at an embarrassingly fast pace when he’d even gotten to utter the first words. 

“What?” Your befuddled state had Simon deadpanning, before referring to the speed ticket like it was the most obvious thing in the world. You itched the back of your neck nervously as your gaze fell to your dress, still hiked disgracefully upon your hips. Your hands fell in a quick mess to gather yourself and redress, mentally using the excuse that it was just in case somebody was to fall upon you both.

Even if you couldn’t hide to yourself the fact that Simon’s blatant gaze made you feel a certain way that you knew you shouldn’t. 

“Duty calls, guess i gotta go,” with your eyes burning holes at your thighs you failed to notice the longing that clouded Simon’s iris at the administration. The silent apology for everything that he didn’t and couldn’t have given you in the past. An indescribable feeling of guilt shook his chest and he just couldn’t stand to be in the same vehicle that he’d just ruined you in for any longer. 

Despite the shameful fact that he’d kinda wished you’d beg for his presence a little longer, your silence pushed him to act. A fight or flight kind of situation, like he was running from his own feelings instead. Perhaps you’d never know how Simon truly felt about you, but you did know that it took him about a minute to fully leave the scene, the sound of his heavy motor dragging about a minute before disappearing from your sight. Simon left his aching heart in the backseat beside you. 

Riding 150km/h, you decided that maybe heading home would feel better than whatever destination was still etched on your map.  

-

KEEP YOUR MW3 SPOILERS TO YOURSELF‼️ im buying the game next week.