#SIGHS LOUDLY another au in the bucket

[lunarmoves]

I blame you for the dca au i suddenly thought up becuz of ur Sebastian solace roblogging spree

HAHAHAHA YESSS!!!!!! but fr, sebastian is so sun-coded?? its wild. like, you can totally imagine sun in his place.

sun solace, convicted of murdering 9 people, gets scooped up by fazco to undergo experimentation when he was innocent in the first place. he's angry, deeply angry, when he realizes what has been done to him. his body has changed--elongated into something so foreign and- and unsightly (he's terrifying, he realizes. he's terrifying and hideous and so inhuman). and fazco just up and discards him like he was nothing once they've researched him completely... so he has his revenge--unleashes other experiments at the fazco underwater blacksite, and causes utter havoc. people are killed. he doesn't care. he just wants to get out--but he knows what he's become and he needs to find a way to reverse the changes that have been done on his body

but... then fazco starts sending in these prisoners to collect the crystal powering the facility (i need to note here that i don't rly know/rmb why urbanshade wants the crystal or what it does, im making stuff up). sun knows that the crystal must not be found or he'll never manage to escape this damn place. so.... he plays nice. because he knows he can manipulate these prisoners to help him.

he greets them all with a demure smile and clasped hands. he makes himself seem as small as possible--as non-threatening. he's their friend in his hellish place, he tells them, makes them believe. sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't.

the prisoners--the expendables--don't care much for him. he knows most of them just see him as another monster. still, he offers them items to help them on their journey in exchange for data they've collected. and when they die to one of the experiments he released in the first place? well... it's no skin off his scaly nose.

ohhh but then... you arrive. and you're different.

you look at him in a way he can't place at first. cautious, sure, but there's something else to your expression that's different compared to the expendables before you. he ignores it and continues with his routine. act nice. be your friend in this hellish place. manipulate you into giving him all your data. use you until you inevitably die.

except... you don't die. you keep coming back to his shop to purchase his items. and still, you look at him with that strange gaze. you linger in his shop and make conversation with him. he doesn't remember the last time he spoke to someone like this. it's been... years. something twists up inside him.

you don't flinch or run when you grab items off his thick golden tail. you don't get discouraged when he's sarcastic with you or makes fun of you when you return to his shop out of breath from running from the angler. you don't... (he swallows thickly) you don't look at him in disgust or hate. you're... curious, he realizes one day. curious and unfrightened by him. oh this won't do at all, he thinks. but he doesn't say anything to you.

(it's nice, having someone to talk to. having a friend)

((he's just using you, he tells himself, to collect more data. he repeats it every time you brighten upon seeing him in his shop))

you speak to him as though he's your friend. you ask him questions about himself like you want to know more. he sees your gaze on his bandaged arm at times, but you never ask. you respect boundaries and know when not to pry. you never falter when peering up at his face. you're so... strange. it frightens him. he tells moon (pandemonium! moon, who was another experiment in fazco and can see you no matter where you hide. always trying to grab you or pry you from your hiding spots) to double down on preventing you from progressing further

he learns about your past--the reason why you were here in the first place. a wrongful conviction. the wrong place at the wrong time. just like him.

(and well. when he slips his own file on the desk in his shop for you to see and inevitably purchase... that's his own business)

suddenly, sun is unsure. to let you live, or let you die is the question constantly on his mind. to let you leave with the crystal, condemning him to a fate trapped underwater, or let you perish by his hands. he doesn't know anymore. things have gotten way more complicated than he had predicted.

he's... not even sure what he wants anymore. does he... does he want to be human again? when you look at him like that? like you don't mind how much he's changed or how terrifying he looks? he doesn't know.

his goals have been shaken.

and he blames you.

[steddiealltheway]

!!!!! Tw: faked suicide not by Steve or Eddie. There are ⚠️⚠️⚠️ before and after the most graphic parts which can be skipped without needing too much context. I tried to be vague but it can still be triggering. !!!!! (Thank you everyone tagging it as such)

A sort of different type of TikTok Modern AU…

Eddie Munson is a famous rockstar and honestly doesn’t post much on TikTok, but he occasionally finds himself scrolling though the app which is how he finds Steve.

He’s gorgeous. Exactly Eddie’s type with luscious, gravity defying hair, a sharp jaw, pretty lips, and he bets if he had a closer look, Steve would have the most charming eyes. It’s a shame the camera is so far away from him, and Eddie almost wonders why until Billy Hargrove is in the shot.

Eddie’s stomach sours at the sight of the man. Yes, he’s attractive, even Eddie could admit that, but there was something about him that made Eddie feel uncomfortable. Plus, there were a few scandals surrounding the tiktoker regarding previous racist Tweets and comments which he has responded to with a thrust trap to “Nobody’s Perfect” by Miley Cyrus / Hannah Montana.

So yeah. Eddie didn’t particularly like him and the stuff he got away with just because he’s hot.

He tunes back into the video which has him holding his finger to his lips, and Eddie is already rolling his eyes. The caption says, “Pranking my boyfriend, Steve 🤣😱” and Eddie can already tell it has to be fake with all the dramatics that Steve just happens to not see.

But then Billy carefully sneaks behind the couch where Steve is sitting and dumps a bucket full of water and ice onto him which has the man yelling and standing up in shock. He stands still for a minute and then yells, “Why the fuck would you do that, Billy??”

The tone and overall reaction has Eddie actually wonder if the video is fake or if Steve is just a really good actor. But he watches it again and notices that the man doesn’t look toward the camera once and something about that makes him feel really uneasy.

Eddie has to reason with himself, if the man is dating Billy Hargrove then he must not be a great person, and maybe he deserved the bucket of ice water. But Eddie still closes out of the app and tries his best not to think about it.

-:-:-:-:-:-

He opens the app a few days later, having forgotten about the whole incident until he comes across another video by Billy and the word “prank” in his caption catches Eddie’s eye. He sighs wondering why it’s on his for you page, but right before he swipes past it, he catches the gist of the prank.

Billy fills a syringe with mayonnaise and injects it into a donut, and then it cuts to him giving it to Steve from a camera that once again seems to be hidden although Billy keeps glancing at it with a smirk on his face and evil in his eyes. Steve, on the other hand, doesn’t glance toward the camera, but his face lights up with glee when he’s handed the donut. “You got this for me?” He asks in an awe filled tone as if the donut means the world to him.

“Yeah, why don’t you take a big ol’ bite of it for me?” Billy asks, voice low. Eddie watches as Steve shifts uncomfortably and puts the donut down.

“This isn’t another prank, is it? You know I don’t like them,” Steve says which honestly surprises Eddie. His tone is entirely genuine, and he feels like he’s peering in on a private moment.

“Of course not baby. Told you I’d stop,” Billy replies with a big smile.

Eddie can’t help but click on the caption: “Simple prank makes boyfriend storm out!” With a shit ton of hashtags that Eddie doesn’t bother reading.

Sure enough, Steve bites into the donut and immediately spits it out. He doesn’t say a word, just shakes his head and storms out of room.

Billy laughs loudly, “Oh, don’t be like that, babe! You know that was funny as shit!”

Eddie opens the comments, and is surprised to find people actually defending the prank. There are some people who comment shit like, “date me instead! I would never get mad at your pranks 🥵”

There’s only one comment that says, “Don’t really find this funny.” But it’s swarmed with hate comments from Billy’s fans that has Eddie scoffing as he scrolls onto the next video. He watches for a few seconds before scrolling back up when he realizes something. He looks at the date of the TikTok and realizes it was posted the previous month which means…

Eddie sighs realizing that him looking through Billy’s videos will only give him more attention and views, but he needs to know how long this has been going on for. And he really needs to find out if Steve is in on any of it or at least had gotten Billy back.

He begrudgingly clicks on Billy’s profile and scrolls through. He finds several videos with the thumbnail being of Steve mid reaction to a prank, and Eddie notices that every time, the camera is far away, and there doesn’t seem to be a single video of him up close.

The whole thing doesn’t feel right to Eddie. But what can he do about it? It’s not like he can report the videos. He could simply just block Billy and try to forget it all.

He scrolls back to the top and accidentally refreshes the page. He’s about to block him when he notices a new video pop up, where Steve looks like he’s in the middle of a panic attack. Eddie immediately presses on it.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Billy smiles at the camera, no shirt in sight as he laughs, “This is my biggest prank yet. Steve should be home in less than a minute. And look,” he holds up his phone and shows a bathtub filled with red water that almost looks like blood.

Eddie’s shaky hand covers his mouth. He wouldn’t.

Billy laughs and continues, “I sent him a text that says ‘I’m sorry’ and a picture of an empty pill bottle, and he’s been texting me non stop for the past few minutes. Shit, he’s on his way now so it’s time for me to hide my phone and make this look as real as possible.”

Eddie watches as Billy puts his phone on a shelf and seemingly stacks towels up to cover his phone and hold it in place. He looks away when Billy takes out a bottle of fake blood and stages a suicide. He practically shakes with anger. Steve has to be in on this. He has to just be a good actor.

Eddie’s stomach drops when he hears Steve yelling Billy’s name rushing through the house. He bursts through the door and falls against the wall in shock. “Tell me this is a damn prank Billy. Billy…” he gets closer and shakes him. “Billy!” He yells shaking. “Shit. Shit. No no no. Fuck. What the fuck…”

Steve sits next to the tub and puts his head in his hands having a panic attack. Billy’s eyes open and he winks at the camera before grabbing Steve’s shoulders and yelling, “Boo.” He starts cackling loudly as Steve confusedly looks around trying to catch his breath. “I got you so good!” Billy yells through laughter.

Steve shakily gets up, tears streaming down his face and runs. Billy gets out of the tub and makes his way to his phone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it up to him later,” he says with a wink before the video ends.

⚠️⚠️⚠️

Eddie sits as the video reloops. He’s shaking with anger. He doesn’t think as he duets the video and mutes the other audio. “This is the most fucked up thing I’ve ever seen. These ‘couple pranks’ are stupid enough and not funny, but to fake a suicide and call it a joke… you have to be an extra type of fucked up asshole. There aren’t enough words to describe how evil of a human being you have to be to do something like this to someone you love. I don’t care if this is staged or not. This is not okay. And fuck you.” Eddie quickly censors Billy’s half of the video with a note of “watch at your own risk.” He doesn’t care if his manager is pissed or if his account is filled with Billy’s fans hating on him or whatever. He presses the post button and turns off his phone. He needs fresh air.

He grabs his keys, a hat, and sunglasses, and makes his way out of his apartment. Hopefully the damn paparazzi back the fuck off today. He makes it down his street and walks quickly, fuming with anger. He weaves in and out of people and curses the busy LA streets.

He turns the corner and rams right into someone walking at an equally fast rate. He holds onto the stranger to steady himself and keep them up. “Sorry,” the man chokes out and Eddie is about to brush it off when he realizes he recognizes him.

“Steve?” He asks. He knew Billy lived in Los Angeles but he didn’t know he lived so close. The thought makes him kind of sick to his stomach. He thinks he might punch him if he ever saw him in person.

Steve wipes at his face and narrows his eyes at Eddie. “Sorry, do I know you?”

Eddie glances around before lifting up his sunglasses and hat, waiting for Steve to recognize him enough to gain his trust. Instead, Steve just stares at him blankly.

Eddie’s heart races. This has never really happened to him. He puts on the hat and sunglasses sheepishly. “Uh, I’m Eddie. I know you from Billy’s TikToks.”

Steve just tilts his head in confusion. His eyes are red and puffy. He wonders if Billy posted the video so soon after his prank and if Steve is currently in the aftermath of it. “Um,” Steve says and clears his throat, “Was I in the background or something? He told me I wasn’t in his TikToks.”

Eddie’s heart drops. He opens his phone and goes to Billy’s TikTok, ignoring the way his own TikTok is blowing up. He turns his phone to Steve and picks a less traumatizing prank to show him.

Steve grabs his phone and his eyes widen. A look of confusion crosses over his face that slowly turns into realization and numbness. “He’s been using me for views after promising he wouldn’t, isn’t he? I even asked if the pranks were somehow stupid content but he said they weren’t. He…” he trails off and shakes his head. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be unloading all of this onto you.”

Eddie shakes his head. “No, no. It’s okay. I’m sorry that I told you.”

He watches as Steve numbly nods and scrolls presumedly through Billy’s profile. He looks down at the screen and back at Eddie. “Is this you?” Steve asks hesitantly as he turns the phone back to him.

Eddie confusedly looks at his phone and sees that Billy has apparently replied to his TikTok already. Then, to his left, he hears a bit of commotion and sees some cameras flashing. Fuck. “Do you trust me?” Eddie asks.

Steve looks at his phone and back at Eddie.

Yeah, that’s a lot to ask of him. “Okay, how about this? You keep my phone, and we run back to my apartment around the corner and talk in private before we both end up in shitty magazines?”

Steve tilts his head and glances toward where a few people with cameras make their way to them yelling, “Eddie! Eddie Munson!”

“You’re not a famous serial killer or something, right?”

“Musician,” Eddie says and holds out his hand. “One who hates Billy Hargrove.”

Steve looks down at his hand and takes it running alongside Eddie who tries not to think about the stories that might come out of this. Gosh, he thought his biggest scandal would be when he came out as gay.

He makes his way back to his apartment telling his doorman, “Paparazzi! He’s with me!”

Hopper just nods in response and opens the door quickly. Eddie sighs in relief when he makes it through and to the elevator. Steve looks at him and asks, “How offended are you that I don’t know you?”

Eddie laughs. “Mildly, but it’s a relief really.” He realizes that isn’t the biggest concern in the moment and changes the subject. “Are you okay?”

Steve sighs and runs a hand through his hair. He opens his mouth but the elevator dings, and Steve almost looks relieved. Eddie doesn’t press it as he leads him to his apartment. “Make yourself at home. Do you want water, coffee, tea, soda, or anything?”

Steve numbly shakes his head, so Eddie grabs two bottles of water and two cokes from his fridge. He puts them down on his coffee table and sits on the couch, watching as Steve kind of hovers in his living room with his arms crossed. “I won’t bite, and I certainly won’t pressure you to do anything. But you can sit on the couch if you like.”

Steve eyes him and asks timidly, “You’re not in on anything with Billy, right?”

It breaks his heart seeing and hearing how on edge these pranks have made Steve. “Fuck no. I promise on my guitar I have never had anything to do with Billy and I never will. Well… unless you count me calling him out on his shit on TikTok.”

The words seem to get through to Steve who sits down on the couch next to Eddie while keeping his distance. “So… that’s why you were on his TikTok.”

Eddie’s heart hammers. He nearly forgot that Billy had apparently dueted his own video. “Yeah, but it has to be really new because I only posted mine literally a minute before I ran into you.”

Steve looks down at Eddie’s phone still in his hands. “Why?”

“Why what?” Eddie asks genuinely confused.

“Why did you call him out?” Steve asks, not sounding angry just… curious.

Eddie shifts and play with a string on one of the rips of his jeans. “His most recent video with the faked suicide. That wasn’t fucking cool, man. None of the pranks he’s done have been okay. And I’m sorry that you were put through them - especially this last one.”

Steve’s face turns almost white. “He posted that? Was I… was I in it? Like… my entire breakdown was…” he trials off as Eddie slowly nods. “Fuck,” Steve says burying his face in his hands. Eddie is about to apologize or go on a rant about how much he hates Billy Hargrove when Steve asks, “Can I see the video you made?”

Eddie’s cheek flush red, but he replies, “Yeah, uh, I don’t exactly remember what I said because I kind of went into a fit of rage and posted whatever came to mind. But yeah, my password is 051599.”

Steve types the password into his phone, and stares at the screen blankly. He looks at Eddie and asks, “I’m not on social media… ever so… could you show me?”

Eddie nods and slides over until he’s a few inches away from the beautiful man, and he does his best to try not to think too hard about how attractive he finds him as he goes to his profile and presses on his recent video. His nose scrunches up at the sound of his own voice, but he doesn’t disagree with anything he said. Billy Hargrove is a dick.

“Can I see the comments?” Steve asks. Eddie nods and clicks on them.

“Woah,” Eddie can’t help but say as he sees blue checkmark after blue checkmark. The top comments are from @ ronancetheromance with the couple saying: “Only an absolutely vile person is capable of such a fucked up prank. #SaveSteve”. Another from @ willthewise: “remember to comment on here instead of the original video so it can get less attention!! #savesteve”. Several of the rest of the streamers who call themselves “The Party” reply to Will’s with the hashtag “SaveSteve”.

“Who are these people?” Steve asks as he scrolls through the comments. He comes across one from @ billyfan4everandalways saying: “Watch Billy’s new video and stop being so quick to judge!!”

Eddie clicks on the replies, and the top liked one - having more likes than the original comment - is from @ ericasinclair: “that ugly mullet man’s explanation is bullshit and everyone knows it. let Steve talk for himself or I’m not buying it. #SaveSteve #CancelBilly”

Eddie nearly follows the girl, but realizes that Steve had asked a question. “Most of them I don’t know personally honestly.”

“Then why are they defending me? I’m nobody,” Steve says as if it’s a common fact.

Eddie turns off his phone and puts it down, properly facing Steve. “I know I don’t know you well, but you are not nobody. And these people are defending you not only because Billy is a dick, but this prank stuff is abusive and shouldn’t be normalized especially with the following he has. Nobody should go through that.”

Steve turns slightly red and looks away before asking, “Can we watch his reply?”

Eddie shudders a bit at the thought, but turns on his phone and goes to his page. “Are you sure? I haven’t seen it yet either, and I’m a little prone to getting pissed at him.”

“I’m sure,” Steve says and even reaches over to open the video.

Billy still has fake blood on him and is scrubbing it off with an angry look on his face. He looks at the camera every so often, and it’s clear that he’s staring at himself in a mirror. What a fucking asshole. “These pranks are harmless, and even my boyfriend would agree with that. He enjoys them and he makes sure to show me how much once the cameras stop rolling and his shock has died off,” Billy says so with a smirk on his face that sends chills down Eddie’s body. “So, stop making assumptions about me and my boyfriend and keep making shitty music instead asshole.” The video ends with him flipping off the camera.

“Charming,” Eddie comments, pausing the video so it doesn’t endlessly loop, and turns to see Steve’s reaction. He runs a hand through his hair and shakes his head.

“He’s lying. I’ve been begging him to stop for weeks. Even slept on the couch in protest. But that last one was the last straw. I just… don’t know where to go,” Steve sits back against the couch and mumbles, “Fuck.”

Eddie shifts and looks at him. “Do you have any friends or family that could take you in?”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “My parent disowned me when they found out I was dating Billy. Didn’t want a bi son ruining the family image. I had to move in with Billy, and he used to be sweet really. Well… I thought he was for the first three months. When his TikTok career took off he moved to LA, and I felt like I had no choice but to go with him. I grew apart from the few friends I had before the move, and I was just stuck with Billy here. And I… I don’t know,” Steve sighs and puts his head in his hands. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to dump all of this on you. I just… haven’t really had anyone to talk to.” The man lifts his head, his eyes are tired and filled with unshed tears. He’s gorgeous really, but that’s the last thing Eddie needs to be thinking about.

Eddie takes a moment to consider things. Steve seems like a good guy. He has plenty of extra room in his too big apartment and money to spare that he doesn’t know what to do with. Honestly, he’s not meant for this lifestyle and never has been. He’s happy that his uncle Wayne is retired and living comfortably off his too big income, but it’s lonelier than he imagined it to be.

And with that thought Eddie tells Steve, “Then live here for a while. No pranks. I won’t use you for clout or whatever. I have a guest bedroom with its own private bathroom, and I usually never have visitors. And I hate parties, so you don’t have to worry about that either. I may be writing songs in the middle of the night, but my music room is fairly soundproof. And trust me, I would appreciate the company or feeling like my money is going toward something important.”

Steve stands up and shakes his head. “It’s okay, man. I don’t want your charity. You’ve already done enough.”

Eddie stays on the couch and says, “Please, Steve, stay a week or just a few days. If you hate it here, I’ll help you get on your way. But trust me when I say you’ll help me too. It’s…” he sighs and runs a hand over his face, “It’s lonely in LA.” He cringes as he quotes the title of his favorite song that he’s written. It’s also his least popular one, but it’s the most honest thing on any of his albums.

“Reminds me of that song,” Steve says with a small smile.

Eddie’s head snaps up. “You know it?”

Steve hums the chorus of Eddie’s song and Eddie joins in. Steve stops to ask, “You know it, too?”

Eddie huffs a laugh. “I wrote it.”

Steve looks at him for a few moments longer with a combination of shock and hesitation. Then he surprises Eddie by asking, “You really wouldn’t mind if I stayed?”

“Not at all. Unless you ended up doing something really drastic like trying to murder me.”

Steve snorts, and Eddie finds it endearing. He tries to shake the feeling away. He can not fall for this man when he’s a guest in his house and especially not after everything he’s been through. But then Steve gives him a real smile and holds out his hand saying, “It’s a deal.”

And when Eddie takes his hand and feels how warm and nice it feels in his, half of him wants to argue that it’s just because it’s been a while since he’s actually had a genuine conversation with another person. But the other half is quick to accept that he’s absolutely fucked when it comes to this stranger that he feels like he’s inevitably going to fall in love with.

[pearbunny]

the bucket list ✘ [eleven.5]

series masterlist | prev | next [ ❀ spotify playlist ]

summary: Fly to Korea. Check. Buy a bouquet of flowers for a stranger. Check. Have said stranger come along with you to accomplish your bucket list? Well that wasn’t on the list, but falling in love was. 

pairing: han jisung x afab!reader

genre: 18+ [MDNI] strangers to lovers, non idol au, crack, fluff, angst, comfort, eventual smut. 

general warnings:  tourist!mc, adult themes including but not limited to: suggestive content, nudity, cursing, alcohol consumption, mentions of death in later chapters, overarching theme of mental health, eventual smut.

word count: 1.2k

chapter content: more of jisung and mc connecting, main reference to Alien by Han of Stray Kids , angst: overarching theme of loneliness, comfort.

author’s note: this one's a lil bittersweet.

You were winding down from the day, Jisung and you took turns taking showers. When you’re done, you find him on the living room couch, scrolling through his phone. He’s researching a simple cocktail or two to make for the dinner you plan to host tomorrow. 

“I can’t decide what to make for the dinner party,” Jisung sighs, rapidly scrolling through the browser page in frustration. He sets his phone down when you sit on the coffee table in front of him. 

You take his phone from his hands and place it behind you, out of his reach. You smile sweetly, tilting your head to the side to give your best pleading face. “You said you would let me listen to one of your songs.” 

“Oh,” Jisung clears his throat, bringing a hand up to the back of his neck. “Yeah, I did say that.” 

You try to fight the pout that wants to form on your face. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to.”

Jisung quickly shakes his head, “No it’s not that. I’m just,” He pauses and sighs loudly, “I’m just kind of shy.”

You give him a small smile, taking one of his hands and squeezing it gently. “You don’t have to be shy.” 

Jisung gives you a lopsided smile and with your hand in his, pulls you onto your feet and leads you to his room. “Mmm, yeah. I kind of do.” He pulls out his chair for you to sit in it. 

You sit down in the comfy plush seat and stare up at the large monitor above his main one. Jisung stands beside you, leaning forward with his weight on his desk as he moves his mouse to pull up a folder titled “finished?” 

In that folder, aptly named with a question mark, are a bunch of files that read similarly to “Close Final 1.AIFF” “Close Final 2.AIFF” and “Close Final for real this time.AIFF”. His mouse hovers on one that’s titled, “Alien.AIFF”. 

Jisung nervously cracks his index finger knuckle with the thumb of the same hand, “Would you like the lyrics up too?” 

“Is it fully in Korean?”  You look at him with curious eyes.

He chuckles and nods, then pulls up a document with the lyrics. It’s in Hangul, with a couple of English lines. He highlights the whole document and pastes it into google translate on another window. He places them both side by side for you on the monitor mounted on the wall, the audio file on the main monitor placed on the desk.

Before you can read the lyrics, Jisung swallows the lump in his throat. “I’ll be out in the living room.” He quickly slips out and closes the door behind him. 

Jisung is shy despite you telling him there was no reason to be. Sharing his music with people was like letting people inside his mind and if he was speaking honestly, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone. It was a complete mess in there, half thought out ideas abandoned for another one as soon as it was thought of, to-do lists that never get checked off even when he’d done them, random one off memories that he had no idea why he could recall the details of because it was so miniscule and not at all important. Like the person’s drink order at a cafe in line before him that had still appeared on the screen when it was his turn. 

Then there were pockets within his mind that were just… gray. Devoid of color. If he focused on those parts too much, that lack of color would spread and eventually, darkness would consume it. 

But there was also light: family, friends, fond memories to look back on. 

There was even a spot for you. Now alone in Jisung’s room, you notice his headphones are unplugged. You plug them in, preferring to listen to music that way to feel completely immersed for your first listen. You press play.  The song fades in, a gentle swell that opens up to piano chords sometimes accompanied by guitar chords. In the back, there’s a sound akin to scribbling on paper. Over it, a distorted voice in English recites a quote you vaguely remember. 

“The only thing predictable about life is its unpredictability. Anyone can be anything. You can be everything.”

Immediately after, Jisung’s voice, higher pitched than you’re used to, is accompanied by drums and cymbals. It’s now when you remember that you have english lyrics pulled up for you. As you listen to the song, you read the lyrics. You don’t expect Jisung to show you such a personal song, but thinking back about what you know about him, it makes sense. The lyrics sound true and you find yourself relating to it. Everytime you hear him sing, “I’m an alien on this earth,” there’s a tug at your heart. It’s loneliness, it’s camaraderie, it’s empathy. His delivery helps you understand what he’s saying, all the emotions behind it. By the time the last chorus plays, you find yourself humming along. 

Outside, Jisung can hear your humming and it makes him smile, heart pounding in his ears along with the soft melody and vibrato of your voice.

Once you’re done listening, you join Jisung in the living room. You stand in front of him as he sits on the couch and take him into a tight hug. 

Jisung stills for a moment, not really expecting that reaction, but eventually, he melts into your touch, wrapping his arms around you. 

You stand in silence for a while, stuck in that position, aiming to be there for him for as long as he needs it. Eventually, Jisung stands up and takes your hands in his once more. Just like before, he leads you to his room, but this time, he walks you to his bed after turning off the lights, getting under the covers. You join him, laying your body on his firm yet comfortable mattress, settling in close to him.

You’re facing each other, the only light in the room coming from his monitors. With your back to them, it casts a lovely shadow over you as Jisung’s eyes hold yours. Looking at him, the light illuminates his face, highlighting the beautiful brown of his irises. 

With a tilt of his head, he places a soft kiss on your lips. You smile into it, so hard. You know that at this moment, you need to cherish every single second with Jisung, so you engrain it into your mind: the soft whirring noise of Jisung’s PC, the soft hum of a TV you assume someone forgot to turn off in the apartment next door, the now dimmed light that allows you to see Jisung in the dark of his room. 

There isn’t much of an exchange of words between you, but you both decide there isn’t anything that needs to be said. With what you’ve shared with each other – your losses – comes a loneliness so similar to each other that each other’s presence is comforting.

Perhaps that's why he showed you that song. 

Because you’d understand. 

And you do. 

So, you cherish this feeling, too, because you know that it will all end eventually. 

ending author’s notes: :(( i love them and i'm so happy they found each other, Jisung needs mc as much as she’s needed him. Hope you're all doing well!

taglist

@burningchaosdeer, @bat-shark-repellant, @jisunglyricist, @captivq, @lixiel0ver, @channieandhisgoonsquad, @dalamjisung, @laylasbunbunny, @beanebabyy, @leyknowsbin @vixensss, @hyunfilms, @cutiespaghetti, @hanjisunginc, @kubuwu, @raehawthorne, @leeknowyah, @lifeissteph, @thesunsfullmoon, @bbokari711, @sunnyhonie, @aalexyuuuhm, @hopefulrascalstatesmantoad

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[chopper-base]

Dead Among the Living

Summary: Fives knew he had a target on his back. The Chancellor himself wanted the ARC dead. With the help of his brothers, he faked his death and went into hiding. Though the news of a resurrected Domino may have him coming into the light-

Warnings: mentions of death, past trauma, Canon typical violence/Canon violence, cursing

This was originally for day 2 of @tbb-appreciation-week but I procrastinate and apparently can't get my shit together-

Prompts: Echo, No order 66 AU, Touching foreheads, "This wasn't supposed to happen"

Chapter 1

19BBY

Officially, I'm dead. Any document you find on my death will tell you I "lost it" and Commander Fox took me out to save lives.

Unofficially, we planned for this. When I found out about the Chancellor, I confronted Fox. I didn't think he'd believe me, but he did. We both knew the only way I was getting out of this fiasco alive was if everyone else in the galaxy believed me to be dead. So that's what we did. As of this moment, a total of 6 people know I'm still alive. Unfortunately, that number probably isn't going to change-

"Fives! Stop talking to yourself and get up here!"

Fives sighed, turned off the holo recorder and stuffed it in one of his belt pouches.

"Fives!"

"I'm coming! I'm not deaf!" Fives stood up from the consol he had been seated at, moving up towards the cockpit. The moment he stepped in, a ration was pelted at him, hitting him square in the face. "Gah-! Cross!"

The sniper sent him an amused smirk, his arms crossed innocuously over his chest. He didn't say a word as Fives bent down to pick up the ration bar, unwrapping it and taking a bite. Fives kept their eyes stubbornly locked the whole time, glaring blunt daggers that they both knew meant nothing more than annoyance.

Across the cockpit, Hunter cleared his throat loudly, calling everyone's attention. "Fives, Crosshair, enough. We've got another mission and it's gonna be complicated."

Fives took another bite of the ration bar as Crosshair shrugged. "When is it not?"

Hunter cut him a look of slight annoyance. "It's complicated because we are going to be working beside the 501st." The Sergeant turned his gaze back to the ARC. "Specifically under General Skywalker and Captain Rex."

Fives ran his hand down his face. "Yeah, that makes things complicated…" he looked back up at Hunter, "Rex will recognize me in an instant. As will half the 501st."

Hunter nodded in agreement. "Which is why I'm a bit confused as to why Commander Cody specifically asked for us on this mission."

The ARC gawked at Hunter, bewildered. "Cody?! Why the hell would he put us with the 501st when he knows I'm with you lot?!" Fives pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut. "He's specifically been keeping us away from anyone that would recognize me for months!"

Hunter crossed his arms, his shoulders falling in a light shrug. "You might have to stay in your bucket the whole mission. The Commander said he'd explain more when we land on Anaxes."

Fives looked past Hunter to watch the swirling lights of hyperspace. "Cody's gotta have a reason, right?" He met Hunter's gaze. "A really good reason. He knows how important it is to keep me hidden. He wouldn't jeopardize the entire war just for some mission."

Tech spun the pilot's chair around to look Fives in the eye. "You are correct. You remaining 'dead' is imperative to us finding a way to shut down the behavioral modification chips in the rest of the GAR."

Fives motioned to Tech but kept his gaze on Hunter. "Which is why I shouldn't be going anywhere near the 501st. What could possibly be important enough to risk this?!"

Hunter grabbed a datapad off the copilot's seat, handing it to the ARC. "All we know is it's a data retrieval mission in the middle of Separatist controlled space."

Skimming the information on the datapad, Fives glanced back up at Hunter. "We've run this kind of mission several times solo. Why do we suddenly need jedi backup?"

Hunter shrugged, unable to find an answer for the ARC. Fives handed the datapad back before turning to leave, finding himself unceremoniously crashing into the seat of the tail gun moments later. Fives let his head rest against the back of the chair, his eyes falling closed as he sucked in a lungful of the recycled air in the small ship. The soothing hum of the engine had the ARC slipping in and out of consciousness, letting the time fly by as the swirling blue of hyperspace lulled him further into a dreamless sleep.

---

Something grabbed Fives' shoulder. Jarring awake with a start, Fives whipped his head around in search of a threat, only to be met with a pair of mismatched eyes and a familiarly warm smile. The tension melted from Fives' shoulders like ice.

"Sarge told me to wake ya and letchu know we are about to land," he explained before promptly turning and walking back towards the front of the ship. Fives let his head fall back against the headrest, taking a shaky breath before getting down from the gunner's nest to follow Wrecker. Through the cockpit view port, Fives watched as Tech piloted the Marauder down towards the planet, landing strip gradually coming into view. He could tell by their speed that Tech was about to do one of his 'fancy' landings as Fives had taken to calling it.

Hunter patted Fives' shoulder to get his attention. "Crosshair's agreed to leave his bucket on for the duration of the mission to keep some of the heat off you, but it's probably best you don't talk too much."

Fives glanced over at the sniper where he was leaning against the wall. Crosshair nodded to him, a small smile crooking his lips. He smiled back as Crosshair spat out the toothpick between his teeth, pulling his bucket over his head. He turned back to Hunter, giving him a nod before walking back to his bunk to grab his own helmet. He felt the ship lurch and turn quickly, causing him to crash into his bunk with a string of curses. Fives would be shocked if there wasn’t at least one decapitated trooper when they touched down. The landing gear touched down with a rumble Fives could feel in his chest, and only when he felt the ship’s weight settle did he know it was safe to stand up without risk of getting knocked back on his shebs. Fives promptly snatched up his blasters and shoved them into their holsters before rushing to the cockpit. The rest of the batch had donned their helmets, doing a final double-check of their gear to make sure everything was as it should be. Hunter strode up to throw open the ramp and the rest of the batch filed out after him.

"The cavalry has arrived!" Wrecker boomed.

Fives had to fight to keep his breathing steady when he noticed the three other troopers standing with Cody. The last time he’d seen Rex was when he’d watched the light leave his eyes and felt his body run cold in his arms. Now, he was standing before his Captain, alive and well and unable to say a word to ease the grief he knew he had caused. Beside Rex stood Jesse and Kix, both wearing looks of confusion as they surveyed the batch. Jesse now probably wore ARC armor, but he still had the republic cog painted brightly on the front of his helmet. Fives recalled the day he had returned with that same cog tattooed on his head. Fives had given him shit for it for weeks and Kix had been no different. Kix had grown his hair out to a regulation cut which surprised Fives. He always had those designs shaved into his head and Fives had helped him re-shave it on several occasions. His tattoo peeked out from under his hairline , hiding the rest of the phrase behind his tight curls.

As they approached the group, Hunter removed his helmet, holding it firmly against his side and extending his other arm out to Cody. Meeting him halfway, Cody grasped Hunter’s hand in a firm, professional shake.Tech followed suit, easing his helmet off and surveying the three 501st troopers before them.

"Sergeant. Good to see you again," Cody said, letting his hand fall back to his side.

Hunter offered a smile, nodding. "You too, sir."

Cody turned to the other three troopers, motioning to the Sergeant. "This is Hunter."

Rex nodded, looking Hunter over. Jesse and Kix were still visibly confused. Fives tamped down on the snicker that threatened to spill past his lips. He knew the batch didn't look like any clones they had seen before. Wrecker was an absolute mountain of a man and even though both Tech and Crosshair looked more like the average clone than Wrecker, still stood four inches taller than average.

"Sorry we’re late, Commander," Hunter apologized "We had just finished putting down an insurrection on Yalbec Prime when your comm came in. Had a few unforeseen… complications."

Wrecker’s booming laughter echoed across the landing platform, causing other troopers walking past to stare at the group. "Ever fought a male Yalbec?" he challenged, looking between the three regs.

Jesse shrugged uncomfortably. "Um… No. Can’t say that I have."

Wrecker cackled , swiftly pulling out his large vibroknife. "You’re lucky! Only way to kill ‘em is with one of these!"

Hunter chuckled, shaking his head. "That’s right. Wrecker here cut off the queen’s stinger while she was still alive."

Wrecker slid the knife back in its sheath, the confident, borderline cocky smile never leaving his face.

Hunter looked back at Wrecker with a challenging glint in his eyes . "That's why all those Yalbec males tried to eat us."

"Ah, technically,” Tech cut in swiftly, “they were trying to mate with us. And, for your information, the stinger of a Yalbec Queen is a delicacy on some planets."

Cody smiled and motioned to Tech. "They call him Tech." he explained shortly.

Hunter nodded, turning to the regs. "Yeah, he can fill your head with useless info for hours." He motioned to the sniper behind him. "Crosshair, on the other hand, is not much of a conversationalist, but when you have to hit a precise target from ten klicks, Crosshair’s your man." He turned his gaze back to Cody, his helmet shifting in his hands. "So, Commander, what kind of suicide mission do you have for us this time?"

Cody motioned to the parked gunship on the other side of the platform. "Let’s get going. We’ll brief you on the way."

The group followed Cody across the landing strip, loading into the LAAT. The batch stayed on one side as the 501st piled into the other. The ship took off quickly, the doors sliding closed once they were already in the air.

Jesse was watching the batch closely, his eyes falling on Crosshair who's helmet hid any expression from view. "What are you looking at?" he accused, glaring at the sniper.

Sniper shrugged with an amused huff that was barely heard over the engines. "We don't usually work with regs." Fives could hear the smirk that had wormed its way onto the sniper's face.

Jesse only glared harder. "Regs?!" he hissed , taking a menacing step towards the sniper.

Hunter quickly stepped between Crosshair and Jesse. "He’s talking about regular clones,” he clarified, calm and placating “But don’t take it personal."

Cody set his hand on Jesse's pauldron, the ARC looking back at the commander. "We’re all on the same team, so cut the attitude and listen up,” he instructed, stern and no-nonsense “Here’s the mission: Our target is this Cyber Center." Cody pulled out a holo projector, a map of the Cyber Center illuminating the ship in cool blue light. "It’s the brains of the entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes."

"I could demolish that with one hand. Yeah!" Wrecker bragged, grinning wildly as he, pumped his fists in the air.

Though it was clear that Cody found Wrecker's excitement amusing, he cut him off. "This isn’t a demo job, Wrecker. It’s strictly a retrieval operation."

Fives watched as Wrecker deflated a bit with that news but the big guy was still clearly smiling. It was then Fives noticed Rex was staring at him. Specifically, his eyes seemed to be glued to his shoulder armor which Fives realized had the same Rishi eel painted that his old helmet did. Fives mentally facepalmed at his own stupidity. He had kept the design as a reminder of who he used to be, not thinking about the fact that it was his identifying mark within the 501st. Though it was evident Rex was staring at it, he never said a word.

Fives reached for one of the handles above his head as the LAAT shook, causing almost every clone to lose their footing.

"We're going down!" Wrecker yelled, his laughter barely heard.

Fives grabbed the handle with a death grip as the ship hit what he assumed was the canyon wall. The bone chilling scrape of durasteel against rock filled the small ship as it slid down the canyon wall. Fives was thrown as they finally hit the ground, landing on top Crosshair who was quick to start manhandling him off. A large hand grabbed his arm, pulling him from the wreckage, dropping him on his shebs on the side of the ship next to Jesse. Wrecker continued to help the rest out of the ship while Fives jumped down onto the sand, offering Jesse a hand which he ignored.

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs." He complained.

"Cody!" Kix yelled turning towards the others. "Help!" He turned back, looking down into the ship. "He's trapped! We have to do something!"

Rex stepped forward towards the ship. "I'll get him."

Hunter moved in front of the Captain, pushing him back. "Woahwoahwoah!" He said quickly. "Easy Captain." He looked over Rex's shoulder. "Wrecker! Get him out." He continued to push Rex back away from the ship, the Captain putting up a small fight but let himself be moved.

"Get back!" Wrecker ordered, rolling his shoulders with a grin.

Kix stared at Wrecker in disbelief. "This is ridiculous! He's going to need help to get Cody out of there!"

Beside him, Crosshair chuckled, motioning to Wrecker with his head. "He's gonna get the gunship out of there, not Cody."

Wrecker slid his helmet on, grabbing the side of the gunship. Kix watched in awe as Wrecker lifted the ship, pushing over and away from the Commander underneath. He grabbed Cody, slinging him over his shoulder and walking back towards the group. "Boom." As if on cue, the gunship exploded in a rain of fire and metal causing Kix to flinch next to him.

Kix ran forward as Wrecker placed Cody on the ground, the Commander groaning in pain. "He has internal damage. I can cut the pain, but he needs help fast."

"We all need help."

Fives looked to Crosshair who was seemingly looking over his shoulder. He turned, spotting battalions of battle droids steadily marching towards them. "Oh fun." Fives said with a shrug.

"That blast gave away our position." Crosshair pointed out, turning towards his Sergeant.

Hunter chuckled, pointing to the obliterated gunship. "I thought getting shot down gave away our position."

"Everyone, find cover. We’ll hold this position and let them come to us." Rex ordered, pointing towards the gunship.

Hunter shook his head. "I don’t think so, Captain. That’s not our style. We prefer going to them." Turned back to the batch. "Bad Batch, Plan 82: Shockwave!" He yelled, pulling his helmet over his head. "Let’s get to work."

Tag list! (Let me know if you'd like to be added!)(I forgot I had a tag list😅)

@rain-on-kamino @idoubleswearimawriter @staycalmandhugaclone @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @kalykat

I may be missing people so just let me know pls!!!

[seeker-of-stories19]

Safelight 🌊 🎞 📷 🤟🏼

Okay you guys have spoken! The Childhood best friends to lovers is a nonlinear story set in Monterey with each chapter following a different part of Robby and Miguel’s childhood and teenage years growing up together. The images are a part of a social media au I made to go with it so there will be a whole Instagram page for each of them featuring a ton of cute posts as the second part in the series after posting the fic (assuming I can figure out how to post images on AO3) If anyone has questions feel free to ask! I think I’m going to do another one of these polls for the main one shots I’m working on.

Sam is saying something but he stops listening when he sees a boy a little down the beach dropping a starfish into his red plastic bucket. He’s too worried to finish listening to Sam try and get out of boogie boarding.

Instead he runs back to where their towels are sat up, crashing into Johnny’s legs and tugging on his blue shorts. “Hey kiddo are you okay?” He asks softly, it makes him want to cry as his dad scoops him up “Daddy that boy has a starfish in his bucket but he shouldn’t do that- what if it’s scary for the starfish or he doesn’t know he needs to put it back?”

“Well why don’t you try going over to him and telling him that it’s nicer to the starfish to leave them with their friends and help him put it back where he found it?” It sounds scary, talking to strangers is scary, but he thinks he can be brave for the starfish's sake. “Okay Daddy I want to help but what if he’s mad at me for telling him?” Sighing Johnny sets him back down and kisses his hair. “Sometimes people get mad at us for doing the right things but if something really matters to you you can fight for it anyway, if something goes wrong I’ll be right here.”

Trying to take a deep breath he marches over to the other boy, hoping he’s not as mean as the boys at school who make fun of him for playing princesses or wearing his favorite red skirt to school.

Placing him down Johnny pats his shoulders to get him moving as he treks across the beach toward the boy with the red bucket, trying to decide what to say as his heart speeds up. He feels sick and it’s only thoughts of how scared the starfish must be that make him inch toward the boy and his mom.

Before he can say anything the other boy bounces up to him, his curly black hair a tangled mess and “Are you coming to play with me!” He says loudly and eagerly, showing off a missing tooth. “N-no” he whispers, suddenly wishing Sam was here “I saw you put a starfish in your pail.”

“Oh I know! Isn’t it so cool? I’ll show you, I think I’m going to-“ the boy was practically bouncing with excitement and he suddenly felt bad for coming over here and spoiling that, he didn’t seem like the boys at school who burned ants with magnifying glasses just because they could. “Mijo I think your new friend is trying to tell you something” His mom says softly as the boy turns bright brown eyes to him “I think you should put the starfish back, it’s not nice to take animals out of their habitats.”

The beautiful smile slips away and he wonders if this is really worth it when someone was actually being nice to him for once. “I didn’t mean to do a bad thing, I just wanted to look at it for a few minutes” he says sadly and it makes Robby feel really bad “You can look at them in the tide pools where they live and even touch them gently but it’s not nice to pick them up and take them places because it might scare them.”

By the time he’s done talking he expects to find the other boy frowning at him but instead he breaks into another blinding smile “Okay that makes sense, why don’t you come with me? We can walk back to where I found him and put him back!”

Immediately he nods “Okay!” He sounds a bit too excited but there’s nothing he can do to contain the warm feeling, this boy is pretty and nice to him which is rare. “Cool, I’ll show you where I found him!” He says happily, grabbing Robby’s hand and tugging him down the beach. He just stares at his back and tries to ignore the warm feeling talking over his body that seems to be radiating from the other boys palm as he talks animatedly.

@keenest-of-heart @mybeautifulillusion @some-dumb-duderino @yoongi12min2 @pluto-plutonium @ivyace @neoghoulukaku @day-dreamsinthedark @miss-starlight @zamsara56-blog @qualityplaidturkey @supersao @piknyu @what-a-gracious-child @ravenmind2001 @theincredibleprincess19 @sansaofyork @thegoddesscirce @princessxx21 @brihannadiamonds @illustep @landing-amongst-the-planets @bigbluealienlover93 @mickeymousesballsack @megankeene @kierasbawls @phantompoguefangirl @ronaldweasleyhowdareyou @keeneonlovinyou @charlies-candid-corner @colduaire @brihannadiamonds @zomboyofficial @meikodenji

*like this post to be added to my taglist and alerted when the whole fic is published!

[purplefangirl42]

Clonetober- Day 3

Prompt: “Check that again. Are you sure?”/first date/Death Note AU

Prompt list by @ladysongmaster Divider by djarrex

Tags/Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Severe Injury

Blaze tore his helmet off and threw it on his bed the second he entered his quarters, taking his frustration out on the plastoid rather than punching the wall like he wanted to. He paced back and forth across the small space a few times before joining his bucket on the stiff mattress, his head falling down into his hands.

The mission had gone badly, and that was putting it lightly. They had lost a large number of men in the initial strike, having accidentally landed in a trap they didn’t see beforehand. Among those lost had been their primary medic, which meant they didn’t have anyone experienced enough to help those that had been wounded. 

Things had only gotten worse after that. Each step of their carefully planned out strategy failed, the consequences blending into the next step and causing even more chaos. Blaze didn’t know how he had gotten off the planet alive, how any of them had. When they had retreated back to the Monitor, Admiral Yung had reported to him the extent of their failure. The planet below was in worse shape than it had been when they had arrived.

Blaze let out a frustrated yell, banging his fist against the mattress. Never had they seen such failure, such loss. To make matters worse, General Alarro had been seriously injured and was currently in the infirmary being operated on by the secondary medic. When Blaze had seen his General fly through the air and land in a heap on the ground, his first thought had been that he was dead. That fear was alleviated when he went to check, but it had been clear that it was something that could very quickly change if action wasn’t taken.

That was what had led him to the decision to call for an official retreat. It would be better to admit defeat than to pointlessly lose more men. The moment they touched down in the hangar, General Alarro had been rushed to the infirmary and Blaze hadn’t heard anything since related to his condition. If he could wish for one outcome of this disaster, it would be that the Jedi would make it through this to fight another day. Or at the very least, to simply stay alive.

A chime at his door brought Blaze out of his thoughts, drawing his attention to the source of the sound. He stood from his place on the mattress and made his way over to the door, pushing the button to open it. A trooper in a medic uniform waited for him on the other side, a datapad in his shaking hands.

“What is it, trooper?” Blaze asked. “Do you have news about General Alarro?”

“Yes, sir. I was sent to retrieve you and bring you to the infirmary.”

Blaze let out a deep sigh and stepped out into the hall, letting the door to his quarters slide shut behind him. He followed the medical officer to the infirmary, his heart beating loudly in his chest. He wasn’t sure what news he expected to hear when he arrived, but he knew for certain it wouldn’t be good news.

If he was dead, surely they would tell him without dragging him all the way to the infirmary.

When the two of them reached the infirmary, Blaze stopped short at the sight of General Alarro floating in the bacta tank located on the far wall. His green skin was covered in dark splotches, bruises he guessed. Some of the smaller wounds were mostly healed, the bacta working quickly to close them. Blaze tore his gaze away from the tank to look at the current ranking medic for answers.

“What’s his status?” he asked, trying to keep his voice from shaking.

The medic turned away from his conversation with one of the med droids to look at him. He said a final thing to the droid before closing the distance between them.

“It’s not good, Commander,” he said. “The General suffered some severe damage to his back. His spine doesn’t seem to have been injured as far as I can tell, but the muscles were damaged to a point where I’m not sure they will heal entirely, even with regular bacta treatments.”

Blaze held his hand out for the medic’s datapad, which he handed over. He wasn’t really sure what he was looking for, as he had no medical training outside of basic field first aid, but he was sure that he would be able to see this severe damage if he looked hard enough. The scans on the screen were mostly gibberish to him, but he could see the red areas on various parts of the Jedi’s back.

“Can you check that again?,” he asked. “Just to make sure you didn’t make a mistake?”

The medic gave him a look of pity before he took the datapad back from him and looked over the scans again. After a few moments, he shook his head and sighed.

“I’m sorry, Commander. I don’t think General Alarro will ever fully recover.”

“Are you sure?” Blaze asked, this time hearing the shaking in his voice breaking through.

“He’ll live, but unless they have some special kind of medicine at the Jedi temple that will help him, I don’t foresee him ever fighting again. Day to day life will be difficult enough for him, forget leading this battalion.”

Blaze turned his attention back to the bacta tank, his gaze drifting up to the tattooed face of his General. He almost looked serene floating there, as if nothing was wrong. He waved the medic off and walked closer to the tank, coming to a stop in front of it and raising his hand to place it against the pastoid barrier.

“I’m sorry I failed you, General,” he said softly. “I will do whatever it takes to make this right, even if I have to finish this war myself.”

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this! Please reblog, like, and comment!

[jungkook97]

why didn’t you wait for me? ;; jjk

pairing + characters: jungkook x female reader, taehyung and hobi word count: 10k ⭐️  rating: 17+ (for cursing mostly)

genre/warnings: childhood best friends turned strangers to enemies (!) to lovers, non idol!au, ANGST ANGST ANGST, the classic “jungkook was a nerd turned hot fuckboy” trope, some fighting and very loud confessions and lots of guilt and misunderstandings like oh my god poor jungkook :(

summary: y/n attends a wedding in hawaii with her old high school buddy taehyung for a much needed reunion. little did she realize that the last person she wanted to see would end up attending.

notes: read @taegularities’ stars behind waves and i felt very inspired! there’s no smut in this bc i suck at writing it so read that instead if you want them to fawk. 😗

© jungkook97 2022. do not repost or modify. please ask for permission to translate.

All you can do is glare at your best friend at this point. 

“Damn, it’s been a minute huh, Taehyung?” he greeted your best friend with a neck-breaking embrace. You gritted your teeth together with your arms crossed tightly, unwilling to stand up to say hello to one of the unexpected plus ones to this dinner date. 

You should’ve known, really. After all, one of your guys’ high school friends was getting married this weekend on the picturesque but tourist trap of an island Oahu and it was only a matter of time that your least favorite person would end up being here too. 

At least, Jeon Jungkook wasn’t your least favorite person forever. He was, at one point, something to you. 

Not anymore.

Taehyung licked his lips nervously as he slowly let go of one of his former water polo mates, laughing nervously while you cleared your throat loudly and obnoxiously as possible. 

You stood up slowly, completely ignoring Jungkook to give Hoseok, the other plus one, a big bear hug. You could feel his dark eyes boring into your back, but you didn’t care. You almost wanted him to be bothered. After all, he was the asshole, not you.

“Ah, it’s been a year or two for us, huh?” Hoseok beamed his infectious smile at you. He had a baby blue bucket hat on with a white tee, cargo shorts, and of course, his trusted mini shoulder bag adorned with all kinds of bright colors and toys. It fit the Hawaiian vibe, which is unsurprising due to his fashionista status.

Jung Hoseok, the popular street dancer senior who took you to prom when nobody wanted to go with you, was elated to see you, as you had been catching up with him for years after graduation. In fact, you still kept up with everybody in that little crew that Taehyung was a part of, seeing them from time to time in fun little dinners and weekend getaways. It was always a joy to see Bangtan in pairs and trios, but even then, you didn’t see a certain someone in these hangouts. Actually, Jungkook was the only one you haven’t seen since your senior year of undergrad and for a good reason.

“It has,” you grinned widely, rubbing his shoulders as he gripped you tightly, patting you on the back. “It’s so nice to see you as always,” you emphasized the last word, making sure Jungkook heard you loud and clear. Unsurprisingly, he did, prompting him to smack his lips and hands together.

“Why don’t we sit down and catch up, yeah?” he suggested, trying to meet eyes with you as you pulled away from Hoseok and turned toward his direction. 

“Yeah,” you said nonchalantly, your right hand reaching for the chair to sit right down, unwilling to give what the man wanted. You could sense Jungkook stiffening up for a millisecond before brushing it off, sitting right in front of you because of course he would. Three years of radio silence or even a small cameo in your life and now he wanted to be front and center so you can notice him.

You sat directly next to Taehyung, who heaved a sigh at the sight of you two still not speaking to one another. Grabbing the cooled apothecary glass bottle from the table, he began pouring the sparkling water amongst the group evenly.

“Look, I know you guys aren’t really on the best of terms per se—” 

“‘Best of terms’ is a very mild way of saying it,” you interrupted, taking your filled glass immediately to your lips, finally meeting eyes with him. 

There he was, sitting there staring at you back. He mostly grew out of his baby features from the last time you saw him, developing an incredibly sharp jawline and his nose no longer a prominent feature of his face. He gathered a few piercings since you last saw each other, and his black tee draped over his broad shoulders just enough to make him look much larger than before. A singular silver dog tag necklace dangled from his neck as he pulled his right arm up to rub his neck, revealing an entire tattoo sleeve that probably took weeks to complete.

Frankly, the man looked like he quite literally leaned into his fuckboy image much to your dismay. You still remembered that big doe-eyed little kid from years ago who couldn’t say a single word to pretty women without stumbling his words and would play Overwatch for hours, wearing the oversized white tee, blue jeans and Timberlands combo for months on end. He was a big dork from what you remember growing up, and the full 180 of an image was giving you whiplash and major disappointment. 

It only took one semester in undergrad and a dare from Jimin for him to join a fraternity when he grew up fast, dressed fashionably and started to gain a body count quickly. To this day, you still hated Jimin for that, despite him being your favorite party friend all during your college years and into young adulthood. It wasn’t that you wanted Jungkook to stay an innocent baby forever, but shit, did you really have to completely lose him to the frat boy club? It was like losing a parent. 

It wasn’t entirely Jimin’s fault though. After all, he wasn’t the one who abandoned you at your lowest point in your life.

Was it petty for you to be angry at him for this long? Perhaps. However, Jungkook didn’t help his case. It wasn’t just that he wasn’t there one time for you, he completely disappeared from your life with no explanation. Rather than spending late nights talking to Jungkook about your struggles of finding a job post graduation or healing from your four-year whirlwind of a committed relationship turned engagement turned absolute shit, you found solace in Taehyung instead. 

Rather, he was too busy with his new lifestyle, going to endless raves and getting shit-faced drunk with absolute strangers every spring break even after graduation. He became a much different person, an empty shell of who he was before. It irked you awfully knowing that, as you could never comprehend why anybody having that bright of a future just waste their time getting blasted and forgetting the entire world around them. It was selfish and immature, something you never thought would end up describing Jungkook in his early twenties. 

The only times you got updates on Jungkook was through the Bangtan men during your trips with them as they spoke about him in amusing anecdotes. You found out about his first big boy job, his first serious partner and eventual breakup, and a bunch of other milestones that you weren’t a part of.

Like it really mattered to you. He wasn’t there for your milestones either. Not that you had many besides graduation and a retracted marriage proposal. 

And so the four of you ate with not much fanfare or drama, exchanging funny stories with each other that had happened in the past year. You two didn’t say many words to one another, only acknowledging each other’s presence by a hum and a nod, directing your guys’ attention to Taehyung and Hoseok. You could still feel Jungkook’s eyes gazing at you from time to time to check your reactions to certain things. He was testing the waters, wary of when to speak, say something to you or even address anything for that matter.

As everyone departed from the cafe, Jungkook pulled his black raven hair back to put on his Louis Vuitton shades, extruding an effortless coolness to him. You rolled your eyes at it, following him. In a predictable chain of events, he slowed down his walking pace to match yours, walking side to side as Hoseok and Taehyung were a full ten steps ahead of you two. 

After a while, he finally broke the silence.

“You seem better these days.”

You scoffed. 

“Yeah, I had to figure that out without you, remember?”

Jungkook groaned, putting his hands on his hips as you two finally reached the grandiose hotel lobby.

“Are you really going to hold that over me forever? It’s been three years.”

“It’s not just three regular years, Kook,” you leaned in to push the elevator button. “My ex-fianceé cheated on me, got kicked out from my own place and lost a shit ton of friends, you being one of them.” 

You crossed your arms once more, looking up towards your former childhood best friend. He had pulled his sunglasses off and folded them on his collar, his expression dark and reminiscing on those lost three years. He stepped into the elevator with you after. It was empty with only the two of you in it. It was a long ride up as Taehyung booked the second biggest suite for the week. 

“I was busy,” he said simply. Those three simple words were incredibly loaded, harboring a kind of energy you couldn’t quite place. Anger? Resentment? Bitterness? You couldn’t make it make sense for you. 

You laughed mockingly. Busy? Wasting your life away is being busy?

“Yeah, weren’t we all? You weren’t the only one juggling everything, you know. Like…” Should you say it? “Like, you weren’t there. You were too busy screwing the whole campus and the entire Caribbean to care.”

You were getting heated, breathing more shallow with every word you spoke. Jungkook’s tongue poked against his cheek in annoyance as he leaned against the railing of the elevator. His wary but friendly demeanor was gone, replaced with the asshole you last remembered. 

“I wasn’t fucking everyone,” he defended himself. “I was networking.”

“Is that what you fuckboys call it nowadays?” 

“Stop before you start saying shit you’re going to regret,” Jungkook threatened. 

With the distant humming of the island elevator music, you continued. You didn’t care. You had to say your piece.

“You really think you’re hot shit,” you cursed with a resentful smile on your face. The three years were cycling in your mind at rapid speed, compounded by your strong emotions about the matter. “You joined one fraternity over a dare, wore some hypebeast clothes, fucked a lot of bitches and somehow, that got you out here thinking you’re the fucking man. Well newsflash: you’re not. You’re not shit, Jungkook. You don’t even give a shit about your own friends going through shit.”

He closed his eyes, grinding his teeth.

“Stop. Now,” he growled.

You stood right in front of him, eyes leveled with his closed ones. His eyes were shaking inside from all the anger. Good, you thought. You wanted him to feel as angry as you have been for the past few years. 

“What would you be if Jimin didn’t dare you that night? Where the fuck would you be now, Kook?”

He laughed bitterly, opening his eyes slowly to see yours. You could see the venom coming out of them and he was absolutely sick of you. 

“You know what it sounds like?”

You pursed your lips. 

“What?”

“It sounds like you’re jealous that I was fucking everybody but you.”

Ding.

“Fuck you, Jungkook.”

You left the elevator immediately, dizzy from the heated conversation. You couldn’t believe the words that came out of the fucker’s mouth. It was expected though, after all he has become a version of those e-boys you two used to make fun of. He made a promise he would never be like that no matter how much he glowed up.

What a bunch of shit that was.

“Can we leave the two of you alone for 3 seconds without you guys looking like you want to kill each other?” Taehyung exasperatedly exclaimed as the both of you arrived at the suite. It was up to Taehyung’s taste with dark oak wood finishes all throughout the unit, complete with a full kitchen and a spacious living room fit for at least ten people comfortably. 

With the wind blowing through the lightly sheer white curtains, you walked past your best friend in contempt to go towards the balcony for some fresh air.

All you wanted was some time off. It was a rough time at your job as you were struggling to make the stupid metrics the company was giving you, and were desperately anticipating this Hawaii trip for weeks. Just as you thought the vacation was going to be perfect, the person you grew to resent so deeply would appear in your life again. It was as if you couldn’t catch a break and the endless cycle of bullshit just continued on like some sick joke. 

As you look at the beautiful sunset unfolding in front of you being enveloped in all shades of purple, orange and pink, you close your eyes with some tears on the creases of them. You exhaled deeply to relieve the pent up energy, your sore and tense muscles relaxing. You deserved this more than anybody else on this trip and you knew it in your heart. No one was going to prevent you from having a good time, not even Jeon Jungkook and his stupid fuckboy face.

“It sounds like you’re jealous that I was fucking everybody but you.”

Those words continued to echo in your mind for the next few days as the four of you made a mark through the whole island, eating and partying your way through. There was joy and laughter for the most part, but there was still a lot of stonewalling and ignoring from both parties, only acknowledging each other when it was necessary. You half expected Jungkook to apologize for his extremely incorrect assessment, but he didn’t bring it up to you or anybody for that matter. It was as if it never happened. Typical of a fuckboy. 

You were successfully pretending Jungkook didn’t exist for the most part, spending more time with the other two and leaving him in the dust. Jungkook did the same, occasionally disappearing for thirty minutes on your guys’ night outs. All of you assumed he was probably working his tongue, fingers and his dick in someone, local or visiting. You caught a couple of glimpses of him sleazily dancing with someone else or buying someone a drink, only hastily looking away and chugging yet another mai tai to forget about it. 

You could sworn though, Jungkook seemed to enjoy it, almost digging his words in your skull through his actions with a glance he gave whenever you caught so much as him flirting with someone you knew he would be railing minutes after. It was a mild annoyance to say the least. If there was one thing you two had in common, it was being extremely petty. 

It wasn’t that you thought Jungkook was unfuckable. He wasn’t ugly by any means; he was that kid in your guys’ friend group who was more of a late bloomer. You knew he was going to grow into his features eventually, growing taller and wider as he worked out regularly. And when he began to give a fuck about his body and looks, he was at his most dangerous at that point, only for you to already be deeply involved in your ex-fianceé at the time. Perhaps it was impeccable timing that you were taken because God only knows what would’ve happened if you two were still close and very much single. 

Was there tension between the both of you? Of course. Neither of you wanted to admit it, especially after he joined the college’s water polo team after you joked that he could never rebrand himself as a jock. After all, he was still playing MapleStory and watching Marvel movies like it’s his religion. How can he possibly scrub all of that away so easily?

It ended up working for him of course, as it does with everything Jungkook does. He was the golden maknae, just capable of anything he set his mind to. It was all the more frustrating that he took his brains and talent into the gutter by his senior year of undergrad, partying his life away with people who didn’t end up caring for him. It was only recently when he returned back to Bangtan, also trying to make up for lost time. 

The boys forgave him with open arms of course. You, on the other hand, couldn’t be on the same page. 

A change of scenery had to happen and soon enough, Hoseok suggested a light hike. Since the hotel was by the shore, you guys figured to go on a little walk for some scenic photos for Instagram and to bask in nature. 

Of course, it was ill-timed as you were extremely hungover and dehydrated from the night before, body aching from God knows what. It was high noon when it happened when you started to slow down compared to the others’ brisk walks down the perfectly easy paved trail, feeling unbearably hot. You knew it was 100% you when it wasn’t that bad earlier as the humidity caught up to you. Beads formed into light drips of sweat on your face as you found yourself heaving, feeling light. It wasn’t looking too good, your vision was blurry.

“Hey.”

You felt a tight grip around your waist as you looked up dazed looking at a broad shouldered silhouette of a man. You knew who it was immediately, pushing him away with little strength you had left.

“No, leave me the fuck alone, Kook,” you urged, your legs starting to feel like pudding. You would rather pass out at this point than have Jungkook help you in any capacity, but your body was giving out, leaning against his built frame.

“You’re going to pass out,” he sighed, grabbing onto you tighter, his biceps rock solid against your waist, pushing you toward a nearby bench to sit down. “Did you not bring any water?”

“Hoseok said it wasn’t a super long trail,” you said meekly as Jungkook pulled a portable fan out and held it by your face. The cool air comforted you almost immediately as he pushed the fan into your hand before pulling out his stainless steel tumbler and uncapping it, offering you a swig of his water. “Ew no, I don’t know where that’s been.”

Jungkook sighed deeply, pushing the top of the tumbler toward your lips.

“Stop being stubborn and drink.”

You obliged, taking three full gulps. He cupped his hand underneath your chin to catch the excess water while steadying the flow of iced water down your mouth with his other hand. When you were done, he patted the excess water he caught on your forehead to cool you down more before patting and massaging your back to help you breathe. 

It was nice. You two gazed into each other’s eyes once again and you could see the worry etched in his furrowed eyebrows, his lips sulking. You couldn’t help but to feel a pit in your stomach at his genuineness, something you haven’t really seen in a while coming from him. It was as if the old Jungkook was still lingering in there somewhere, still caring. His touch was hesitant and awkward, as if he wasn’t sure how to touch you. He didn’t want to come off too strong or have you miscode his actions. It was the most intimate you two had ever been in a while, and it wasn’t laced with any sexual intentions, a stark contrast to what you were seeing and hearing him to do other women in the past few years.

“Better?”

His tongue was dancing along with his lip ring when you patted his back to indicate you felt better. He nodded, pulling you up with one arm slowly, not letting go. 

“Let me carry you back,” he suggested, turning his back against you and bending back, his arms extended behind his back and beckoning for you to hop on. Without much arguing, you climbed on, your arms tightly wrapped around his neck as he grabbed your thighs tightly, pushing you up and straightening himself out. You were too tired to argue at this point, and desperately just wanted to go home. 

With your head against the top of his shoulder blades, he took you home without much conversation, humming quietly to himself as onlookers passed by and gushed at his charitable deed. You cringed a bit at the glimpses of other women enamored by him, almost regretting the choice you just made. It was inescapable how much women just love Jungkook, and how easy they just fall for his looks and charisma. If only they saw his pimpled face at seventeen, yelling at a computer screen when his team lost on Overwatch—

Stop it. Jungkook grew up. Why can’t you just admit that to yourself? He wasn’t that kid anymore, he had grown into a very attractive twenty something. 

I just can’t. 

Maybe I was jealous.

It didn’t take long before you dozed off on his back, only realizing it when you finally woke up in your bed, sheets spread out underneath you. With the fan whirring softly in the background, you groaned and stretched out your whole back, cracking every inch of the way. With your eyes focusing, you slowly got up to sit, realizing that there was someone else in the room.

There Jungkook was, manspreading on the lone eggshell colored barrel chair feet away from you underneath a blanket. He had put some of your clothes on the side for him to sit down, apparently to monitor your wellbeing, but ended up dozing off into a light nap. Your heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, but you pushed that down so deep somewhere else, pushing yourself off the bed to see anybody else was still around, just anyone. It didn’t take long for you to realize the two of you alone, and after checking your phone, Taehyung and Hoseok were already off to dinner somewhere else without extending the invite to either of you.

It felt like a setup. Perhaps they devised this plan to leave you two alone for you to make up, but this also opened some avenues you didn’t want to explore, especially knowing the track record of Jungkook being alone with any woman. It wasn’t that you didn’t feel safe around him, but if there was anything that was consistent in your life right now, it was the fact that anything could very much happen.

“You feel better?” 

Jungkook’s voice echoed in the empty space that was the living room. You turned around, sheepishly grabbing your own arm to comfort yourself from the sheer panic that you were spending an awful amount of time alone with him. 

“Yeah. Just hungry though.”

His slippers skidded through the floor as he entered the room, wearing yet another dark oversized tee and matching shorts. You could feel your heart pounding in your throat as you two met each other’s gazes. His was a lot softer compared to when you two last spoke, his walls had disintegrated and his presence felt very familiar to you once again, like specks of old Jungkook was peeking through. 

The caring, soft-spoken and attentive side of him was ringing in your head for the past ten minutes, your brain trying to make sense of it all. This whole time you thought that side of him was long gone and had been replaced with someone else completely but alas, he was right in front of you, just older. 

You missed him. You missed that Jungkook deeply.

Before you could say something stupid, he opened his mouth. 

“You wanna eat at that buffet downstairs?”

You nodded.

“Yeah, why not?”

You were unraveling. It was definitely a result of the combination of the quiet sexual tension between the two of you all week and the whiplash of the Jungkook you once knew making a reappearance that you feeling a certain type of way. You found your eyes lingering too long at his back while waiting in line for some steak at the meat station. He seemed rather oblivious by you checking him out fully, fully fixated on the spread of meat before him. 

You could still feel his back against your cheeks and how formidable his neck felt with your arms slung around his neck. The absolute comfort you felt, the security of knowing he was very capable of taking you home safe and sound. It didn’t fully hit you at the time, but you realized how much you missed him, the real him. 

After stealing a few more glances from across the table, you finally saw a moment to finally speak your piece after the events from earlier today. 

“Um, hope this doesn’t sound weird in any way, but I just want to thank you for taking me home earlier. That was very sweet of you.”

Jungkook looked up from his mountainous plate food, cheeks filled with meat. He stopped in mid chew, his big brown doe eyes looking back at you in surprise. He was absolutely adorable.

“Mmm, of course,” he mumbled his words before drowning the contents down with some wine. Clearing his throat, he looked down and continued picking at his food with a fork. “I couldn’t leave you there, Taehyung would quite literally kill me.”

You smiled, first time in his presence in a while.

“Yeah, he really would.” 

His lips formed into a small soft grin as well, stabbing a cherry tomato right in the middle before gobbling it up. 

The two of you kept eating, grabbing more plates of food. Eventually, conversation soon sparked up, and you found yourself finally speaking to him normally just like old times. It felt as if time didn’t pass at all and the negative feelings surrounding the both of you existed in a different alternative universe. It wasn’t that you actively forgot, but you realized that being petty wasn’t going to get anywhere at this point. It was clear you two had moved on and no longer wanted to keep it up anymore.

After your third drink and a few more laughs, it grew a bit quiet. As Jungkook finished the remaining pieces of his dessert, he put his small spoon down as it clinked against the ceramic bowl. Pensive, his mind was thinking about something for a while based on your observation, and you knew it was on the tip of his tongue. 

He sat up, straightening his back before saying his piece as well.

“I know we haven’t been kind to each other this whole trip and I just wanna say…I’m really sorry for what I said earlier. I was being incredibly immature, and I regretted saying that.”

Your tongue swirled inside your mouth at his sudden apology as your fork clashed against your own plate after it got loose from your hand. This whole time you felt that Jungkook was being firm in his words and was convincing you that he was right, but in actuality he was remorseful the whole time. 

If he wasn’t enjoying rubbing his sexual activeness in front of you, then what was actually happening then?

You gulped at the thought, replaying all of those moments in your mind. Surely, everyone assumed Jungkook’s disappearances were hookups for him and you assumed this based on the couple of times you caught him flirting with someone. Weirdly enough, he wasn’t fully attentive towards the girl in question in both instances, always catching you watching him as he stared at you back, seemingly…melancholic. Like he wanted to be somewhere else. With someone else. 

Was that someone else you? 

You shook away those thoughts. There was no way he was pining for you this entire time. If he did, he would’ve said something when you were engaged for two years to who you thought was the love of your life. You two were just childhood close friends and nothing more. 

“It’s okay, Kook,” you finally answered after some time, not realizing you were this deep in thought. “I’m sorry for saying all of that too. Like yeah I was hurt, but I’m not gonna be mad at you for spreading your wings, you know?” 

The past was the past. It was clear to you in the past few hours that Jungkook may look different and have a complete 180 of a lifestyle now, there were still parts of Jungkook you remembered and cherished within him (although it took a while for that guy to come out). Perhaps he was lost during those three years like you were, trying to understand and grasp the world as much as possible with his young adult hands. Now that his life was less chaotic, he can regain some of that old him back, just like you have been healing from your own traumas the past three years through this trip.

“Yeah…” was all Jungkook could say, leaning back against the cooled leather booth with his arm sprawled across it. He was thinking about something once again, eyes dark. You could feel it hovering over you, and perhaps that was what Jungkook wanted to do as well. 

Or at least, you were hoping that he felt that way. 

After stacking the plates up, you two went back to the suite, making light conversation here and there. The gap between the two of you was decreasing as you touched shoulders with him, not being bothered about it one bit. 

“See, I told you they’d make up,” Hoseok quipped to Taehyung with a big fat grin on his face, amused as you came into the living room with Jungkook trailing behind.

You laughed a bit, cheeks flushing a light pink. 

“Spoiler alert: we are capable of forgiving.” 

“It took a while,” Jungkook piped up, plopping against the big sectional next to you. He looked small against it and a part of you ached to sit next to him as his eyes beckoned you to do so. “Anyway, what are we doing right now?”

“Drinking,” Taehyung said simply, giving Jungkook a glass immediately. “We are exposing ourselves tonight.”

You froze. You participated in this game for quite some time now everytime you were with the Bangtan boys and have witnessed and told all kinds of wild confessions and stories. Normally you would be more than happy to join, but in lieu of your recent feelings blooming rapidly for your childhood best friend, you would rather not partake in such activity.

“Uh…” you trailed off, mind scrambling to come up with an excuse. Taehyung raised his eyebrow in enjoyment, taking a sip of wine before crossing his legs graciously like a prince of sorts. 

“You’re not joining us?” he hummed, chuckling to himself. He knew you better than everyone else: if you weren’t participating, it’s because you were hiding something. 

“No, I’m tired. You know, from heat exhaustion and whatnot,” you lied.

Hoseok snickered, leaning on Taehyung to whisper something to him. You squinted your eyes. 

This was deliberate. Very deliberate. They knew something. 

After a while, they separated, both nodding to each other. Hoseok waved you away, leaning against the chair. 

“Fine, have a good sleep.”

It wasn’t a good sleep. In fact, you spent the last two hours just staring at the ceiling, brain just going through all kinds of emotions at a million miles per hour. It felt nonstop and endless as you plopped yourself up, sighing into the dark abyss. Your vacation was ending and you weren’t looking forward to going back to reality. 

It didn’t help that it was humid and hot at 2AM, and you were extremely dehydrated once more. Sliding on some slippers, you made your trek toward the kitchen. 

As expected, the boys were still in the living room conversing. There were at least 3 empty wine bottles now, with the fourth one being poured by Jungkook himself. You sauntered into the kitchen, your hands reaching for a cup on the top cabinet before slinking toward the cooled stainless steel fridge. As the water light tinged a light blue while water was being dispersed, your ears caught a bit of the topic in question. 

“Yah, I didn’t realize that my love life is that sad,” Taehyung laughed acridly. “Like, am I really incapable of keeping someone interested?”

You snorted to yourself, knowing the answer. Taehyung was the worst at commitment out of all of them. 

“I can’t speak for you buddy,” Hoseok smacked his lips together. “You kind of messed up with Jennie. Now she’s back with that guy now, huh?”

“Don’t remind me of it please.” 

All three of them laughed heartily. 

You began downing the water, turning around toward them. Jungkook’s body was facing you, although you were sure he couldn’t see you from the very faint glow of the countertops. He was incredibly drunk and stretched out on the sectional, scrolling through his phone as Taehyung and Hoseok were in their own worlds sitting on the floor. 

“Yah, Jungkook,” Hoseok beckoned. 

“What?”

“Have you ever been in love before? I feel like you haven’t.”

Your heart started to thump wildly in your own chest as you did your best not to choke from the water. They would ask this question when you’re present. 

“Ay, I have,” Jungkook defended himself, not looking up from his phone. 

“Really?” Hoseok nudged the youngest’s leg, very interested. “How many times?”

Jungkook looked up, but rather than looking at Hoseok, he looked directly at you. 

“Once.”

You cleared your throat, eyes immediately down toward the sink as you washed the cup furiously before putting it on the washing rack. The other two looked over as well, realizing you were awake the whole time. Before any of them could speak, you were already back in your room, deep in your sheets as you muffled your screams. 

There was no way. You’re simply imagining things. 

“Once.” 

“Ay wake up girl, the wedding is in a few hours!” Hoseok’s sing-song voice chimed through the air as he pulled the curtains wide open. Your brain was frazzled as he started to shake you playfully awake, the room filled with his infectious laughter. 

You felt weird. Surely, you were well rested after the events from yesterday, but you could’ve sworn something happened last night that you couldn’t place what it was. Your dream consisted of a snapshot of the week thus far but convoluted, and you found yourself unsure. One of the dreams you had was Jungkook confessing he was in love with you to Hoseok and Taehyung, but for some reason, that felt extremely vivid to you. 

You slowly got up and began your morning routine as a whiff of toasted bread, bacon, and eggs filled the air. Hoseok was making his infamous toast for everybody, humming an unknown but catchy tune as he did so. 

“Morning my dear,” he said sweetly as you made your way to the kitchen. The glass you left last night disappeared, meaning that memory you had last night was fabricated. You exhaled deeply, relieved before taking a seat on the kitchen island.

Taehyung came out from his quarters shortly after, his brown permed hair still in disarray as he yawned loudly and stretched his body out for everyone to see.

“Man, we drank so much last night,” he commented, pointing to the five empty wine bottles perched on the counter. “What time did we sleep last night?”

“Don’t know,” Hoseok chimed, plopping the scrambled eggs neatly on one of the plates of buttered toast before handing him an opened jar of blueberry jam. “Jungkookie drank the most too and he’s still not awake yet.”

You look toward the direction of Taehyung and Jungkook’s room to see it still half ajar. Loud snoring was emitting from the room itself, indicating the youngest was dead asleep. 

“I’ll go wake him up,” you piped up, slipping off of the chair and making your way toward the room. Pushing the door back, you saw Jungkook’s head popping out from sheets as he continued to snore loudly into the AM hours. 

Slowly making your way to the bed, you sat on the edge of the bed, leaning in to start lightly shaking him awake.

“Kook, wake up.”

He stopped mid-snore, breathing sharply before beginning to pull the sheets off of—

Jungkook was naked. Very naked. 

You stood up immediately, your eyes widened at the realization that he was starting to peel off the sheets below his shoulders, exposing his upper chiseled body. He was murmuring complete nonsense in his sleep as his eyes were circling around in its sockets, waking up. You found yourself panicking, heat rising to your face as he began pushing the sheets even lower. 

No. Not today. 

Before you would see more, you turned around quickly and shut the door aggressively, making a beeline towards the kitchen island again. 

Hoseok noticed your change in demeanor immediately as your butt slammed on the chair cushion, your eyes glued to the plate in front of you. 

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you blatantly lied, picking up a fork and not looking at Hoseok or anybody for that matter. Pushing your fork into the toast in one hand and cutting up the toast in another, you were doing your best to keep it together and not replaying Jungkook’s buff chest in your mind or a flash of his well defined abs or whatever else you saw in a split second. Hell, you were sure you saw more, but you were too stunned to speak. Why you forgot that Jungkook slept naked was beyond you. You knew this about him and walked into that completely oblivious about it.

It didn’t take long for Jungkook to find clothes, wearing a fresh set of pajamas, this time a dark green see-through one out of all choices. He sat down next to you with a delivery of Hope Toast from Hoseok himself right away. 

“Morning,” Jungkook greeted with the most groggiest voice, eyes blinking several times in the attempt to stay awake. He seemed oblivious to the interaction you two had earlier, unaware that you saw 80% of his bare body. 

“Look at you being a total rockstar,” Hoseok complimented, in awe of his cool pajamas. 

You, on the other hand, were not having a great time. His tattoo sleeve was all the way up to the top of his shoulders, peeking through in great detail through the holes. Your brain was able to delete the holes altogether, seeing the full picture in 4K. You could see his little black boxers underneath in the corner of your eye, tightly wrapped around his massive thighs. 

If you weren’t noticing his body before, you were extremely distracted by it by now. The silence wasn’t helping either. 

“I’m going to make some juice,” you broke the silence and got up, trying to not look Jungkook in the eye. Pulling the juicer from the pantry and the fruits from the fridge. “Who wants some?”

“Me,” Hoseok and Jungkook replied at the same time. 

You began cutting up the fruits and began loading into the machine. With whatever energy you had left over, you began pushing the stick down the chamber and the frustration you had toward Jungkook. With every push, you were attempting to erase all the pent up tension away to no avail, still remembering his glances and genuine attentiveness and kindness and—

There was a bit of resistance, no, a lot of resistance. Your eyebrows knitted together as you pulled the stick up and looked inside. The orange slices you had cut up were lodged deeply in there, caught right in the middle of the dividers. You groaned, trying to fish out the contents with a nearby utensil before pathetically pushing the stick down one more in an effort to clear it.

After a few moments of struggling, you heard someone moving from their seat and heading toward you to assist you.

“Thank—”

Jungkook’s arms popped up from either side of you as both of his hands grabbed the top of yours holding the stick. He was incredibly close to you, his sturdy and buff body pressed up against yours as he grunted repeatedly in your left ear to push the contents down for you. You felt every hot breath of his, as you struggled to find your own. It felt like you two were in an embrace as your brain went to space yet again, not even catching a single break from quite literally five minutes earlier.

The slices gave way and broke apart with his strength alone as you found yourself flushing madly at the amount of contact Jungkook was initiating without warning. He must know what he was doing, otherwise it didn’t compute for you. It was one thing you saw him grow confident in making moves, but another to actually experience it yourself. 

No wonder girls fell at his feet now. Jungkook is incredibly dangerous. 

The whirring of the juicer droned on as you two finished the last few slices, generating more than enough juice for the three of you. You shut the machine off while he took the stick from you to clean it immediately. You turned around to see Taehyung and Hoseok whispering amongst each other before separating a millisecond after, pretending it didn’t happen, looking in opposite directions.

Shut up.

It didn’t take long for you guys to get ready for the wedding. Well, at least for Taehyung and Hoseok anyway. Taehyung had to leave immediately after he finished his breakfast to be a part of the groomsmen (in which he reluctantly said yes for, as he hated being a part of anything that required actual work) and Hoseok had to set up the audio equipment for music. It left you and Jungkook alone again for most of the day from the ceremony itself to even sitting together at the reception. It was an open reception by the beach filled with candlelights and leis everywhere, making it a very typical but beautiful island destination wedding. 

You wore a simple YSL black dress with a heart print on it as Jungkook wore a very casual black leopard print suit. It would be a lie to say that he didn’t steal the show away, gathering a great deal of interest amongst the wedding guests. 

As the night progressed after the usual wedding moments passed, you found yourself downing a few drinks and there (open bars were great!), grooving along in your seat and eating what was left of the wedding cake that was served an hour ago. Jungkook was beaming and cheering his former water polo mates on, occasionally hollering and hooting whenever someone busted into a head spin or other ‘90s dance moves they were too young to partake in at the time of popularity. You laughed and egged them on as well, leaning against your chair as Hoseok finished up his set with Beyoncé’s “BREAK MY SOUL”. 

In the middle of it, you felt a tap against your shoulders. Looking up, you realize Jungkook was gesturing to you to come with him to dance. You smiled warmly, grabbing his hand as he navigated through the guests to the dance floor. He had taken off his jacket at this point, his white satin shirt billowing in the cool breeze as his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows to alleviate the heat. Hoseok was right; he really was a rockstar.

Just as you two began to groove along with the music, the audio was cut off unexpectedly, followed by major mic feedback that irritated the guests. 

“Ah, sorry,” Taehyung stumbled on the stage, his hand extended in apology as the other was gripping the mic rather tightly. He changed out of his formal wear for a lighter blue Hawaiian shirt and white pants, adorning 4 different leis that were put on him throughout the night and it was clear he was incredibly drunk. Not realizing he was yelling, he continued, “SORRY, I just want to dedicate this song to my man Wooshik who not only is my favorite guy in the fucking world but…” 

He exhaled, sniffling a bit.

“...you deserve a happy life and a happy wife. Congrats man.” 

Taehyung gestured to Hoseok to start the music and so he did.

The lights began to dimmer as Taehyung began his rendition of “Unchained Melody” as his deep voice echoed throughout the beach landscape. The guests who were formerly getting wild were paired up almost instantaneously, grabbing their partners to slow dance. 

You stood there in horror as Jungkook chuckled to himself, his hands on his hips.

“He would do this, that bastard,” he cursed to himself, his ears turning incredibly red. You flushed as well, not really sure of what to do. 

“We can sit back down,” you suggested, already starting to turn back towards your seat, but Jungkook grabbed your hand, pulling you toward him. He wrapped his arms around your waist as you instinctively rested your arms around his neck, mind just dizzy. 

“No, let’s dance anyway. Fuck Taehyung,” he chuckled, swinging the both of you ever so slowly to the beat. 

As the song progressed and Taehyung began to croon through the high notes to much fanfare, you found yourself slow-dancing with your childhood best friend, turned enemy, turned friends again against the backdrop of one of the most beautiful places in the entire world. As the string lights began to flicker on slowly for the ambiance, you could see the warmth in Jungkook’s eyes reflecting on the light. 

It felt like you two were teenagers again, not knowing anything else besides school and pop culture. He was your first slow dance at your middle school prom, and you could remember him and his braces grinning at you with excitement. This time, he was older, his smile was more reserved, soft and gentle as he always was with you. All the memories of you two together for the past week started to come together as you wished you had more time to spend with him, more time to laugh with each other instead of the last 48 hours. Three years felt like eternity, but this past week felt even longer than that.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook said breathlessly. Your heart skipped a beat once more. You? Beautiful? He was perfect. 

“You too,” you replied, making sure he felt the same.

He leaned closer to you and gripped you tighter. His eyes suddenly turned dark as his smile fell a bit. You looked at him with confusion, unable to piece it together. 

All the words he wanted to say were forming in his brain as it began spilling out once more.

“I’m sorry.” 

Sorry?

“I’m sorry for abandoning you…for…” he stopped for a moment, clearing his throat a bit, breath seeping in alcohol. “...for leaving you to deal with that fallout, that heartache by yourself. I was so selfish back then and I’m so sorry.” 

As Taehyung reached the highest notes, Jungkook started shaking a bit and not from the cold. He had more to say. Your stomach was bubbling with acid as you felt your throat tighten, feeling a bit sick. The drinks were catching up to you, and it was compounded by the weight of emotions you were feeling up until this point. It was being validated, but you had a sickening feeling where it was going.

🎶 And time goes by so slowly,

And time can do so much 🎶 

“You’re right. I thought I was the man, the top of the world. I thought maybe, just maybe, I would find myself, like I can change everything about me or something. And then I realized…” 

🎶 Are you still mine? 🎶

“...I realized that I just needed you.”

You felt incredibly nauseous at this point and as Taehyung kneeled to the ground behind you next to the groom and his new bride with a crowd cheering him on, you felt the need to throw up and it was definitely not on the dance floor. 

Before you knew it, Jungkook was leaning in closer to you, closing his eyes. Unfortunately, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

🎶 I need your love 🎶

You unwrapped your arms off of Jungkook’s neck and turned around immediately, eyes looking toward the nearest exit. You could feel Jungkook’s grip loosening fast as you left the dance floor almost immediately and to the outskirts of the reception. You knelt down and unloading the bile that was pushing up your throat for the past five minutes onto the clear white sand. Tears formed in your eyes as you began wiping away the fluids from your face as you continued to cough and spit toward the ground. 

The world was shifting underneath you as you stumbled back up slowly, hearing faint clapping ringing in your ears. Your mind was also swirling in the same fashion, unable to digest what just happened. 

Here you were, on the last night of your trip, slow dancing with your childhood best friend only for him to dump you a boatload of intense human emotions. Sure, you forgave him for saying those words and perhaps for the lost time, but this whole thing of him realizing his fuckboy era was a distraction from him actually missing you. You wondered if this was a huge game to him or if he was being serious. If he had feelings this whole time, why was he slipping in the middle of the night every night for the past week in the arms of other girls? Why didn’t he say anything at all while you were with your ex? You didn’t have the patience anymore to be played, and truly, Jungkook was driving you insane. 

It didn’t take long for him to find you kneeled over by the sand staring at your vomit as he called for you, asking if you were okay. He knelt down too, putting his hand on your back. You had enough. 

You finally mustered up the courage to say it.

“What…what the fuck is wrong with you?” 

“What?” 

You turned toward him, standing back up. 

“What is wrong with you? Like, what is your end goal here?”

Jungkook followed suit, his eyes flickered from your question. 

“I don’t have one.”

You grinned bitterly. 

“You…you spent the past three years disappearing off the face of the planet ‘exploring yourself’ and now you’re telling me you were actually lost and confused? And…” you stepped closer to him. “And you needed me? Needed me for fucking what?”

You scoffed, extending your arms out in frustration and confusion. Jungkook on the other hand, was making himself smaller, his hands tucked away in his pockets as he was searching for an answer himself.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.”

“No, I do know,” Jungkook corrected himself, inhaling sharply, his eyes everywhere else but you. He groaned in frustration, his shoulders lifting up into a shrug. “I don’t know, what the hell do you want me to say? That I fucking missed you? That I…” he swallowed, crossing his arms, “...that I wasted my early twenties away to forget you? Is that what you want me to say?”

He exhaled sharply, his eyes closing ever so slowly out of frustration. You were stunned, trying to defend yourself. 

“Well no, but—”

“But what?” he rebutted. “You think I’m this huge fuckboy with no morals or whatever, but honestly, do you wanna know where I went for the past week? I wasn’t fucking anybody, you know. I was outside at every bar we went to, angry at the fact that you spent the past week ignoring me like I was nothing to you. Like, was I really nothing to you this whole time?” 

“You…” Jungkook grimaced, biting his bottom lip. “You said you were okay with me spreading my wings, but you had no idea what I was going through, how much I longed to be with you instead of seeing you with that asshole. You wanted me to be there for you when you two finally broke it off, but fuck, I couldn’t. I had to get away and forget everything, forget about you.”

You were eerily quiet, unable to say anything. Although you chalked up his downward spiral and your engagement happening at the same time to be a pure coincidence of you two going in very different life paths, it didn’t occur to you that your engagement was the catalyst for everything else. It made sense to you.

Jungkook’s voice was trembling. 

“You know, I wasn’t even formally invited to this wedding. Taehyung asked me about being his plus one and I said no. It wasn’t until he mentioned you were coming, I finally decided to go because…I guess, I wanted to be able to tell you all of this, for you to finally take me seriously.”

You got very tense, already about to see what was going to happen. 

“Kook—” you began to interject. 

“I’m in love with you, okay?” he put his hands up in defeat. “It’s really just that. Maybe you didn’t see it before, but I always have. I just got lost in between trying to forget that I did. Can you really blame me for that?”

He started laughing indignantly, tears forming in his eyes. He knelt down soon after, hands buried in his face. He was unraveling in front of you, more vulnerable than he has ever been. You always thought Jungkook’s heart hardened after his misadventures for the past few years, but the man still wore his heart on his sleeve as he always did, still sobbing his eyes out as if it was his first heartbreak ever in his life. You wondered how long he must have felt this way, how much pain he must’ve felt when you first told him you loved that ex of yours. Self medication was never a good look on anybody, and he was the worst when it came to drinking until he forgot even before things spiraled out of control.

This whole time you felt that your worst years of your life were purposely missed by your childhood best friend, but in reality, he was suffering at the same time in a much different way. If only you knew then rather than harboring so much resentment toward him for the past three years. You accused him of being a terrible friend, but truly, you weren’t there for him either. Instead, you casted his phase as him wasting his life away. 

“Jungkook…” you called out his name softly, leaning down to his level to touch the top of his head gently, rubbing it. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see how much you were hurting yourself. I should’ve been there for you…”

It didn’t matter anymore. You couldn’t make up for the lost time and the words and actions that could’ve been said or done. If anything, you didn’t deserve him, and yet, he still wanted to be with you. Why, you wondered. 

He continued to sob loudly, hiccuping from time to time in attempts to catch his breath. Fully leaning onto you, he embraced you as you two fell into each other, not saying much. 

There were too many emotions still swirling in the air, and you didn’t want him to say more things that ached your heart more and more. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to blame yourself for not seeing what was right in front of you the whole time. Even the words “I’m sorry” weren't cutting it anymore. You didn’t know how else to make him less hurt than just resurfacing your buried feelings for him, but even then, it wasn’t fair for him. He had years on you while you went and loved another man completely. 

Absolute silence fell between the two of you as he lifted his head up finally to meet your eyes again. He was in a lot of pain, and you couldn’t stand seeing more of it. You wanted it to go away, and you wanted him to forget all of it.

And so you leaned in and your lips touched his ever so lightly. He didn’t take long before he pushed his lips deeper into yours, sealing a deep and passionate kiss between the two of you. Your lips dance in between his as his mouth opens for you, taking you all in. You found yourself taking a light gasp before following along with the rhythm, your hands cupping the sides of his face. His arms enveloped your whole body, holding tightly as if he wasn’t going to let go anytime soon. For minutes you two were just like that, deeply exploring each other for the first time, one of the potential many times after. 

As you two slowly retracted from each other, he let go with his lips pursed together in a soft pout, his eyes still swirling in its sockets. You could tell his mind was pulling in so many different directions like yours, having a hard time fully grasping the weight of what happened. There wasn’t really much to say, and with everything unfolded the way it did, it was best to just let the moment sink in for the night and figure out what was next later. 

It didn’t take long before both of you realized that the reception had been over a while ago as there weren’t that many guests remaining and the clean up crew had arrived. You pulled yourself back up with Jungkook doing the same as well, wiping his knees clean of the specks of sand stubbornly still attached to his designer pants. 

Silently, the two of you started walking back toward the car with Hoseok and Taehyung present, faces spelling massive worry.

“Where the hell were you guys?” Taehyung interrogated, enveloping you in a towel as Hoseok gave Jungkook’s jacket back to him. “We’ve been calling you for the past fifteen minutes.”

He was right. You opened your phone to see a flurry of messages and missed phone calls from the two.

“Sorry…” was all you could muster at that point. Your mind was clearly elsewhere and you were in need of a shower and a nice warm bed. “We uh…had a bit of a serious private conversation, that’s all.” 

That was all you could really say without divulging more before pulling yourself up into the van with Jungkook following suit, seated closely next to you. The other two immediately took notice of your guys’ sudden closeness, but rather than teasing the two of you about it, stayed quiet.

“Yeah,” he agreed blankly, also not giving much away. “It was much needed.”

You two exchanged glances at each other, having so much to say but not enough time to say it. Surely, it was the beginning of a next chapter together, and frankly, both of you weren’t sure if any of you were ready for it. But truthfully, truly, who really is? 

“Well, you guys sure looked rather cozy with each other tonight,” Taehyung quipped from the passengers’ seat with the sun visor mirror fully open and on as the van took off, leaving the shore behind. He was allegedly checking out the current status of his face, but you could tell he was monitoring the two of you in the back being way too comfortable with each other. 

Jungkook couldn’t help but to return a silent smirk to himself, looking outside to the city lights. Instinctively, he grabbed your hand, intertwining his tattooed fingers with yours without much thought. 

“Of course. We’re an item now, didn’t you know?” 

- end - 

[sanjoongie]

Incubus~! Hongjoong

ღ Bucket List Event for @kvanity-main​ ღPrompt: Go on a road trip ღPairing: Hongjoong (Illusion Era) x Reader (f) ღGenre: Incubus au, supernatural au ღInspo: Bates Motel (if you squint), cocky Illusions Hongjoong ღWord Count: 2,535 ღWarnings: jealous sex, no penetration sex, degradation kink, female receiving oral, praise kink ღRated: 18+ mdni, smut with no plot

ღSummary: After a long day of driving, you’re looking to put your head down at the nearest motel, unknowing that the owner was an Incubus and you were not going to get your intended rest

ᲦDedication: @mejuii @downtoamagicalland we all extra simp-y for Hongjoong recently, so voila, the result of Hongjoong brain rot

↫Vampire~! Wooyoung | Werecat~! San ↬ |  Anterior Chapter(Hongjoong’s Past)

Your eyes slid over to the dash of your car. The clock was telling you that it was time to call it a day. You loved that you chose to take this summer off and finally go on a road trip along the coast line. Your family and friends had been worried that you were going alone but you honestly needed the time, mentally and spiritually, to just be by yourself and heal. The scenery was gorgeous, and with your music playing, you felt like all was well with the world. But now it was time to get some rest for another day of driving.

Your eyes scanned the roadside and finally you saw a sign that said Sunrise Motel. You pulled off the freeway and into the parking spot in front of the office. You turned off your car, stretched your arms over your head and decided that sleep would be wonderful right about now.

You missed Wooyoung the most, however. You missed his laugh when he teased about biting you. You missed his hugs during the night, desperate to be with you even though it was his time to hunt. Wooyoung remained behind to continue protecting the orphanage and the spirits but encouraged you to continue down your bucket list.

So now you found yourself at the desk of the motel but no one was sitting there. The fluorescent lights blinked above and didn’t help with the shiver that climbed your spine. You opened your mouth to call out if anyone was there but a door slammed down a hallway and you jumped. You rubbed your sweaty palms against your thighs. Maybe your family and friends had a reason to be worried about you going on this road trip on your own.

A slow chuckle came from the shadows and eventually someone revealed themselves. That someone was a man with red hair. He didn’t look like he should be working at a run down roadside motel. He wore a simple white sleeveless shirt and jeans but there was an extravagant faux fur coat hanging off his elbows. The man scratched his head as if he was just waking up for the day even though the sun was setting in the distance. “Need a room?” He said through a yawn.

You nodded, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. You were trying real hard not to check out his canines. Discovering Wooyoung had made you paranoid, clearly. “It’s just me so it can be your cheapest room.”

The motel clerk hummed in acknowledgement. He started up an old PC, pressing the keys loudly and huffing when the computer didn’t wake up quick enough. He checked a clipboard and then sighed loudly. “Looks like all I’ve got is the honeymoon suite.”

You frowned hard. “There’s no cars in that parking lot but my own!” This was bullshit.

The man laughed under his breath and then brought his eyes to meet yours. His face spoke of polite customer service but his eyes told another story. You were clearly messing with the wrong man here. “The rest of our rooms are booked up, esteemed customer.” His eyes raked over your off the shoulder t-shirt and you felt a different shiver run through your body. “Look, I can give you a discount on the honeymoon suite, okay? Half price but truly, it’s the only room we have. People reserve rooms and whether they show up or not, I’ve got to honor that.”

You breathed in and out deeply. Your eyes went to his name tag that said “Hongjoong”. You just wanted to sleep and then move on with your road trip. You refused to let this moment sour it. “Sure, Hongjoong. How much?”

You paid for the room and received the key in exchange. A smile quirked the corner of the motel clerk’s mouth. “Enjoy your night.”

Typical statement. Nothing weird about it. But you felt like there was an underlying meaning behind it. So you went back to your car and parked it in the stall in front of your room. You pulled your carry-on from the back of your car and made your way to room number eleven. 

Upon opening the doors, you winced at the lovey-dovey theme. This was definitely the newlywed suite. At least the bed was big and there was a jacuzzi in the corner. Maybe you could treat yourself since you were stiff from being on the road all day. You opted to take a shower to wash the road off you first, changing into some comfy clothes and opting for a messy bun. All thoughts of a jacuzzi dip disappeared when you fell asleep, chips from the outside vending machine halfway to your mouth.

You had some pretty vivid dreams the night you spent in the motel. The clerk from the front desk made an appearance but it wasn’t to scare you. He was your husband!? The two of you were in the honeymoon sweet, both under the covers in the huge bed.

“Darling,” Hongjoong pulled you back into his chest, “Don’t tell me you’re going to sleep already?”

You didn’t resist his embrace. “I’m tired, Joong.”

“But look at this delectable negligee you’ve got on,” Hongjoong argued. 

Technically, the whole road trip was your honeymoon, but your honeymoon night had passed a few days ago. And still your best friends had packed enough lingerie to last you a month and so you had no choice but to wear most of them to bed. “That's all I’ve got!” You protested.

“Are you saying no to your husband this early into our marriage?” Hongjoong teased. His breath ghosted your shoulder and you shivered. 

“What’s got you hot and bothered?” You decided to turn around the attack. 

“You were checking out the guy at the front desk, weren’t you?” Hongjoong pouted behind you. Ah, so this was the game he was playing. It was typical for Hongjoong to play up a random encounter with his jealousy. It wasn’t toxic, just a bedroom game between the two of you. It added some spice to the bed.

“You’re wrong,” You denied immediately, feeling your gut curl in anticipation of what was to come. Any tiredness you had felt melted away at the idea of Hongjoong looking for some jealous, hot sex.

“I saw you, darling,” Hongjoong crooned into your hair. His grip on you tightened. He grinded into your ass, the beginnings of a hard-on apparent there. “You were looking at his arms and his chest.”

You mock gasped and spun around in his hold. “Why would I ever stare at any other man’s chest when I’ve got yours?” To prove your point, you groped his pecs, watching eagerly as Hongjoong bit down on his lower lip. When he didn’t stop, you leaned downwards to leave a bite mark around his nipple. 

“Don’t try to distract me,” Hongjoong said. He flipped you on your back and placed himself between your thighs. His hard-on was fully fledged and created some wonderful friction as he grounded himself into you again. “I know what I saw.”

You watched on with pure wonder as he stripped you of your underwear and his and settled back between your legs. Instead of pushing himself inside of you, he pushed along your folds. He slicked himself up with your wetness, length running along your clit but continued to simply rub up against you. “Think I’m gonna come just like this, darling.” To cement his point, he pulled your legs up, letting them hang over his elbows. “Gonna rub myself against you until I come on your stomach.”

It was torturous but it was so fucking hot that you just nodded along. The two of you watched as his length slid along you on the outside and it was a glorious sight indeed. But once you started canting your hips forward, enjoying the friction Hongjoong was providing, Hongjoong got mean. "Poor darling, enjoy it while you can. You're not going to see your release."

“Joongie,” You whined, “I didn’t look at that clerk.”

“No?” Hongjoong hissed, “Didn’t think about him taking you against the counter? Didn’t think of him holding you down on his cock with those arms? Didn’t think about biting down on his chest and hearing what kind of noises he makes?” At this point, you figured, Hongjoong was actually getting off on the idea of you fucking someone else. You had a kinky husband, so you did.

“No, I was only thinking about sleeping with you in bed tonight.” You reached up and wound your arms behind Hongjoong’s neck, “I don’t want anyone but you.”

“Liar.” Hongjoong rutted against you, nose starting to scrunch up as an indicator that he was getting into this. 

You started to pout. “Hongjoong. That was one time. And you were the one to suggest it!”

“You want to get fucked in front of me while I have no control over it,” Hongjoong continued to rave. “You want me to feel like the powerless one while you get fucked dumb. You want me whining and moaning into my hand while you get split open and pounded into.” 

You couldn't help but moan at the scene Hongjoong was building up. That did sound hot, you couldn't lie. But once your lower lips moved as if you were trying to clench down on something, the game was over. Hongjoong grounded into you, his cock covered deliciously in your own wetness. His pace sped up, ruthlessly running his length along your pussy lips and clit. It would have been a race to see who came first if not for the command that escaped his lips. “Don’t you dare come.”

You gasped and whined some more. “Don’t come? When your cock is rubbing me so damn good? Don’t come while I watch your body move above mine? Hongjoong, that’s impossible. You’re so angry and that’s so fucking hot. I want you to come all over this negligee that I have to throw it out.”

You knew all the right buttons to push. Hongjoong lasted only a few more thrusts and then he did exactly what you said. Hot ropes of cum shot out over your silk negligee, utterly ruining it. His pace slowed down as he rode out his high, slowly letting go of your legs and letting them slide into a more comfortable position. Your lower half was throbbing with an orgasm half-baked, however. 

Hongjoong had his own plans, clearly. He lowered himself to your core, face revealing how much he enjoyed the view. “I love your fat pussy lips, darling,” He cooed, a completely changed man. He went from Dom-in-charge to adoring husband in the span of one climax. “Makes me just wanna dive in.”

“Hongjoong,” You moaned, feeling a blush creep up your throat. 

“Want me to eat you out, wife of mine?” He offered, a soft smile curling his lips upwards. Then he shook his head, looking confused. 

You squeezed your thighs together gently. “Yes, Joong, eat me out. Make me come all over your face. I wanna paint your lips with my cum.”

Hongjoong shuddered. “What is going on here? How are you in my head instead?” he whispered to himself.

“Love, I know you like I know the back of my hand,” You said, cupping his cheek. “I know how much you love going down on me. I know how much you enjoy my praise. I love you.”

Hongjoong looked sad for a moment and it almost made you break the fourth wall that was your dream for a moment. He shook his head again and painted a pleased smile back on his face. “I’ll take what I can get, I suppose.”

Hongjoong licked one long strip along your pussy and you groaned like a porn star. He took his time, exploring you as if it was the first and last time he’d get to. He took time to prod your hole teasingly but once he heard the desperate noises you made from him when he got to your clit, well, that’s where he made himself at home. He would spend a few seconds flicking his tongue up and down on your clit to wind you up and then brought you back down by flattening his tongue and using slow licks where you felt every inch of his tongue. He was winding you up and it was driving you wild. 

“Hongjoong, your tongue feels so good on my clitty. So wet and so good, God, you treat me like a queen, oh yeah, just like that, Joongie, oh --feels so good, yes, yes!--” You cried out, almost choking on your own words as your climax hit. Because of all the build-up, it smacked you like a two-ton truck. You saw stars for a bit, your cunt contracting again and again, your climax echoing down your nerves until you sighed, content that you had found your high. 

Hongjoong’s face appeared above your head, eyes bright with glee. “Did you come?”

You smacked him half heartedly, earning a giggle from him. “Fuck that was hot. I definitely married the right man.”

Hongjoong cuddled you to his chest, wrapping your body in his arms. He kissed the crown of your head and whispered, “You’re my dream girl.”

You woke up the next morning feeling well-used. Which made no sense, you had just been sleeping. Maybe it had been the awkward way you had fallen asleep. Your dream lingered at the back of your head but you quickly forgot about it as you packed up to be out of the room by ten. It wasn’t until you got to the front desk to return the key and saw Hongjoong, that it all came back to you. 

You blushed as your hands touched his when he took the key back. “Thank you for everything,” You murmured.

Hongjoong captured his tongue between his teeth, looking pleased and naughty. “Think nothing of it.” Then he bent over to reach a drawer down low and you had a direct look down his shirt. And there was a bite mark around his nipple… exactly like the one your dream self had done to your husband.

You gasped and Hongjoong’s eyes shot upwards to meet yours. “Like what you see?”

You cleared your throat, somehow finding your voice and said, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare.”

“You’re lucky you’re not here with anyone,” Hongjoong winked at you, “It’s not good form to check out the guy at the front desk.”

“You were checking out the guy at the front desk, weren’t you?” 

“What are you?” You whispered, feeling another shiver go down your spine.

Hongjoong shrugged, "Just a guy who likes to flirt with the cute girls that come through here."

You left the motel in a state of bewilderment and it wasn't until you finished your day of drinking in the sunshine while you drove, that you looked up 'supernatural' and 'dreams'. Succubus came up immediately but that was a female. Then you saw the term Incubus for the male version of succubus and paled.

How the hell were you going to explain to Wooyoung that you had dream sex with an Incubus???

A/N: To those not familiar with Incubus’, they feed off of the energy that comes with sex. So they sneak into your dreams, have sex with you and get fed. Hongjoong commonly rents out the honeymoon suite to random female strangers coming into the motel so he can feed from them with the illusion that he’s their husband and they're enjoying the honeymoon suite. He believes that most of the women want that degrading jealous sex without the worry that normally comes with it in real life. However, you manage to get inside his head and turn the tables. Really, all the Hongjoong wants is to have that loving moment with a woman who might love him back. He wants to feel loved when he’s always the one giving himself to others. So you’re a treat for him.

↫Vampire~! Wooyoung | Werecat~! San ↬ |  Anterior Chapter(Hongjoong’s Past)

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Better

Kang Yeosang x reader

enemies to lover au

word count: 9.4?k

genre and warnings: angst, suggestive, violence

synopsis: ateez au in which kang yeosang and you are sworn enemies belonging to rival gangs until you both are at the mercy of a common enemy and have to work together, discovering those strong feelings you had for each other might not be hate.

Seconds. Minutes. Hours.

Days. Months. Years?

You had no idea how much time had passed, but you finally opened your eyes and saw light- the door to your cell opened and a tall figure stood with another figure which was now pushed roughly to the concrete floor, hands cuffed, a groan of pain escaping them.

You squinted your eyes, the world a blur as you tried to make what you could see of their face- who was it this time?

The figure finally got up on its knees and sighed, having sit back, their shoes brushing against your feet, and you wished it was day so the sunlight would have revealed the identity of the figure.

"Are you... okay?" You managed to say, your throat parched. In this pitch dark, you couldn't make out anything, and you were glad, because you weren't sure the figure in front of you would like the sight of you-

"You sound strangely familiar," the voice said- clearly a man, and very, very familiar to you too.

In fact, you recognized him instantly.

Kang Yeosang.

But it couldn't be. What was Kang Yeosang, basically the right hand to his boss doing in your cell?

But then, what were you, also your own boss' most trustworthy employee and his assassin doing in this cell?

"I'm sure you don't know me," you scoffed internally at the irony of the situation. Kang Yeosang, your worst nightmare and enemy, now in front of you. You should take this chance and kill him, except you were tied to the post as well, and you were in no condition to move.

"I'm sure I do, actually," you could hear the haughtiness in his voice which indicated that yes, he recognized your voice too. You suddenly regretted the pointless verbal arguments and fights you've had with him over the years which had left your voices printed in each other's memories- as well as habits, such as-

"Fancy seeing you here."

- how to make you angry instantly.

But it went both ways.

"Miss me too much, Yeosang?" You laughed sarcastically, "Can't spend three days without seeing me?"

As a matter of fact, he was used to seeing you, and you him. You both worked for the top drug dealers- rivals though sometimes business partners. And nothing was dramatic about it save for the fact that you and Yeosang hadn't hit it off very well and had infamously become sworn enemies, both of you bent on driving the other to the edge.

"How many days do you think have passed?" Yeosang asked, genuinely worried because you thought it had only been three days. And you dreaded answering because you weren't sure you would like what you had to hear.

"Don't tell me," panic laced your voice, and in that moment, an understanding passed between you two- and both of you were glad the other couldn't see your face.

"How did you even get here?" You asked, "I didn't think you could slip. Losing your touch already?"

"Well, you wouldn't believe it," Yeosang's voice was low, "But it's a deal between our gangs gone wrong. I came to save you."

"Ha," you scoffed loudly, "As if."

"I'm not lying," Yeosang simply said, "You've been missing for 3 weeks now. We were working together after all, even though I hated the idea of it from the beginning. And when you got taken, your boss might have... lost it a bit."

Though you did feel as if a bucket of water had been dumped on you because 3 weeks? but you had to scoff at the mention of your boss.

"As if he cares."

The bitterness with which you spat those words had Yeosang raising his brows. His own boss, Hongjoong, was like a friend to Yeosang, so he couldn't imagine why you were so bitter. Were you not close to your boss?

"He does, I guess, because he chose me to get you. Though now that I'm here... I think it was a wrong decision. Maybe I should just get out of here alone..."

"Did he really send you?" You had to ask, "I can't imagine why- oh."

You had almost forgotten about it, and you loudly cursed as you realized just why your boss cared so much about getting you back-

You had the key.

The key to all his wealth that he had slipped in your hand when you both had found yourself at your enemy's den, the small key that you had hid in your shoe first, occasionally changing its spot according to the situation.

"Oh?" Yeosang echoed, "Must be a big reason."

"Oh you have no idea," you had to laugh, "You have no idea."

Silence fell as you thought about the whole situation, finally breaking it as you said, "Think about it- my boss sent his rival's right hand- basically an enemy- to retrieve me. Now what value would a person like me have? Why did he not send one of his cronies?"

"Ah," Yeosang said, "You either have or know something that's valuable to him, and he can't let you die right now."

"Bingo," you said, "And now that I have the chance, I would die before letting him have it."

Yeosang was shaken at your words- just what had you gone through these past three weeks? And what fate awaited him?

"What's happened to you?"

"Worry about yourself," you sighed, "you're gonna regret making a deal with my boss real soon."

And regret he did, to some extent.

He blamed himself for getting caught and being put in this tiny cell. As daylight poured and woke him up from his sleep, he looked at you and his heart sank dangerously at the sight of you-

Your button up shirt was okay from the front, but tattered at the back, hanging only from the sleeves, covering your front- but your back had to be bare and he couldn't see it. Your hair was matted to your face and neck and fell down messily, and your face-

So pale. Void of colour. Your cheekbones were protruding rather sharply, and Yeosang had to commend you because you were still hanging on to life even though you looked as good as dead.

You were one stubborn soul, after all.

"Like what you see?" A voice boomed and Yeosang's head whipped to the source- one of the men who had caught him watching you from the window.

Yeosang didn't dare reply as he unlocked the door and arrived with a tray of food- rather good treatment seeing the food consisted of rice and chicken and put it in front of Yeosang, injecting a drug in him- the same drug they had used to catch both him and you- rendering him weak enough to not fight back but not weak enough to not eat his own food.

"Eat," he ordered, "Boss has asked for special treatment for you- maybe your boss is good to you, after all. He's trying to strike a deal to get you out unharmed. As for her-"

The man looked at you and you grinned at him, infuriating him (because why not?) and he went out for a moment, coming with a bowl of soup only, pushing it on your lips and forcing you to drink, drops of it dripping down and your tongue burned because it was too hot but you couldn't retort- you had to eat whatever they gave or else you'd starve.

But Yeosang there had lost his appetite at the sight of this- why wasn't your boss trying anything to get you out, he wondered? Especially when you supposedly had something he wanted? Was he scared the enemy would figure out? Or was he just a coward, hoping you'd die with the item in question?

Why were these people keeping you alive then?

Just what had you caught yourself into?

Yeosang took a chicken leg and hid it behind him, his hands shaking from the effects of the drugs, eating the rest as the man watched him the whole time, saying he'd be back in an hour so they could go to relieve themselves.

As the man shut the cell and went away, Yeosang waited for a good five minutes before calling your name and grabbing your attention.

"Just what have you caught yourself into?"

"Forget that," you said, your eyes bright as you worked out a plan, "Can you get me out of here? Or will you go alone?"

"Of course I will get you out," Yeosang said, and you raised your brow at the quick response- it didn't sound right coming from his mouth, since you two, in normal circumstances, would have done anything to get the other in trouble. And Yeosang understood, rolling his eyes, "They're basically torturing you here. And even though we're... enemies, as everyone likes to call us... I wouldn't wish this sort of a treatment on anyone."

"Not even me?" You smiled.

"Not even you."

You were impressed- he had principles, after all.

"Okay, here's the plan. When that scumbag comes back and takes us, you need to somehow get close to the man and take one of his hairpins out- keep it hidden. Don't reveal it until we're back and I say so- you'll be tied and so will I, but you need to give me the pin before you get out, Yeosang, you hear me? From the looks of it, your boss is gonna get you out by tomorrow night. Can you do this for me?"

Yeosang nodded, figuring he could do that for you, but still surprised at how you believed you were doomed if not for him.

And he really couldn't stand how tired you looked- as if you had given up altogether. Your hands tied up made it difficult for you to sit in a position other than being on your knees- and it was brutal. And about your back-

He had a glimpse, and he wasn't sure he wanted to see what damage they had done.

So one hour later when the man came and drugged the two again, waiting for a minute before uncuffing the two and dragging you both rather easily to the toilet, Yeosang went in first. When he came out and you tried going in, Yeosang purposely bumped into the man, rather swiftly turning and apologizing to nobody in general, the man groaning in warning.

Tied back at their usual spots, you looked at him, worry lacing your eyes. "Tell me you did it."

Yeosang stuck out his tongue and you laughed in disbelief- he had done it, the hairpin right in the middle of his tongue, of all the goddamn places. "I can't uncuff myself, or you," Yeosang said, his hands tied behind him, "But you... you can."

"I can," you admitted, "after the effects of the drug wears off."

"And you know I'll get out on my own, but will you... uncuff me too?"

"Well," you sighed, "We may have a problem- I can't exactly fight on my own anymore. I may have a broken something and my back hurts like hell. You're pretty fresh, so if you're up for it..."

"And what do I get out of it?" Yeosang smirked, and you rolled your eyes because this wasn't the time to get playful.

"What do you want?"

"What do I want... interesting."

"Yeosang, we don't have all day, and if you come up with something disgustingly evil I'll personally end you after we get out of here."

"Nothing... for now," Yeosang announced, "But you owe me one after this."

"Done. Now hand it over."

Yeosang smirked as he slid closer to you, the chains on his cuff preventing him from getting too close but it was enough- he stretched until his face was near you, and you brought your face closer too, rolling your eyes at the devilish smirk as he pushed the pin out of his mouth, holding it at the tip from his teeth, and you caught the pin from the other end, your lips slightly brushing with his, a sigh of relief escaping you as you drew back, because the key of freedom was now in your mouth.

Yeosang drew back and watched as you pushed yourself up with excruciating effort, working your mouth expertly and uncuffing yourself in a minute, falling to your knees in a very abrupt motion and almost crying in relief-

But Yeosang's breath stuck in his throat, because your back-

Your back was littered with scars- and the worst thing was that only a few of them were new.

"Who did this to you?"

Yeosang's voice was grim, and you looked up to see his gaze fixed at your back.

"That scumbag, of course-"

"Not those scars," Yeosang shook his head, "The others."

You bit your lips, having completely forgotten about the long scars that decorated your back. "Nothing you need to know."

You wobbled behind Yeosang, uncuffing him and almost falling down, Yeosang holding you up, making you lean at his side and use him for support. He brought the chicken leg in front of you, making you laugh and shake your head as you took it rather gladly, eating it and oh, you haven't had something normal in weeks now.

You didn't notice how Yeosang was absently tucking your hair behind- you were too busy eating. And when he took off his own outer shirt and wrapped it around you, it was only then you noticed his gaze that made you flush because of a number of reasons-

First- the gesture itself. All your lives you had hated each other just for the sake of it, and this... this was making you wonder why you both ever got stuck in that meaningless cycle of hate.

And second- he was extremely buff, his biceps now visible in the black half sleeved shirt he was left with. His streaked hair contrasted rather well with it, and you had to stop your eyes from roaming all around him, praying he hadn't noticed.

"So," Yeosang's deep voice broke you out of your trance, "What's the plan?"

--------------

The two of you pretended to be chained for the remainder of the evening, waiting for the time when the man would come for interrogation- it was a fixed time of the day, you had noted. So anyone who peeked in out of curiosity would find you both chained well, but right before the man arrived, Yeosang stationed himself next to the door, punching the man once and knocking him out instantly.

"Wow," you breathed, "Forgot for a second you were strong."

"Forgot?" Yeosang huffed, "Do you not remember the time I knocked you out with just a-"

"Let's not dwell on the past," You weakly got up, "Chain him like he did me."

Yeosang understood, chaining him just like you had been for the past weeks, taking all his weapons, handing two daggers to you and keeping one and a gun for himself. He finally looked at you, thinking.

"Can you run?"

Which was how you both found yourselves running for your lives, you gathering all your energy to fight close range while Yeosang covered you with the gun, encountering a good five men before Yeosang jumped out of the first floor window to the truck, promising to catch you and urging you to jump instantly.

And he didn't let you down; he caught you rather carefully, as if afraid to hurt you further, grabbing your hand and jumping down, running further down the alley, taking two turns and you stopped him abruptly, pointing at the narrow alley where a couple were making out rather heatedly, and Yeosang understood, dragging you in the alley, grabbing the fur jacket on the bike of the couple and wearing it over himself, turning and embracing you in what would look like a make-out session to anyone passing by-

Except it was his forehead on yours, noses brushing, his hands in your hair, your arms automatically going around his waist for support as he bent you back a bit.

You were suddenly conscious of how you hadn't washed in days- one of the people in that building, a woman, had attended to your scars about three days ago and had washed you as best as she could, saying the boss didn't like his captives dirty when he came during interrogations.

But this should be the last of your concerns right now-

"They're gone?" Yeosang whispered, his breath warm against your skin, the statement coming out more like a question- not what he had intended. But his heart was beating like crazy and it was a surprise his voice hadn't cracked-

"I think so," you whispered back, eyes meeting his-

And that was a mistake.

Because his eyes locked back, and you couldn't pull away from his gaze, having noticed for the first time just how light his eyes were-

"That's my jacket!"

Yeosang rolled his eyes, taking it off and apologizing, saying he was hiding from his friends. Thankfully, the man didn't argue further, and Yeosang grabbed your hand, walking to the next street and getting into a convenience store, your eyes scanning your surroundings for any signs of the enemy.

Yeosang used the phone to contact one of his friends while you waited, wrapping Yeosang's shirt tighter around yourself since it was a bit chilly. Yeosang came back with two bowls of ramen, preparing them and waiting for it to be cooked.

"You've got nowhere to go, do you?"

You pursed your lips, "Boss... he'll kill me once he finds me and gets what he needs."

"Why?"

"Because he'll never believe I kept his secret to myself and did not betray him," your lips quivered, "Because... because I kept the secret to myself after going through everything-"

You didn't know whether it was the relief of escaping alive or the thought of death at your doorstep, or simply the fact that your boss, that bastard would never believe you didn't sell him out- but you were suddenly crying, and you hid your face, turning away from Yeosang as you sobbed, trying to stop but you held it in too long-

Yeosang said your name, which just made you cry harder, telling him between hiccups that you didn't know why you were crying, but he understood. He only rubbed your shoulders as you sniffed, cursing yourself because you were crying in front of Yeosang, of all the people, which could also be the reason why you were crying harder.

"Come with me," Yeosang simply said, turning you to face him, "We'll figure something out. For now, come with me."

"Yeosang," you shook your head, "my boss will go at war with your gang if he knows you guys have me. And he will know, because those men we just escaped from? They're gonna tell him that you, Kang bloody Yeosang, helped me escape. So just drop me off at the port or something- no need to involve yourself-"

"Oh, the ramen's getting soggy," Yeosang, completely ignoring you, handed you chopsticks and blew at his noodles, wowing at how good it tasted, urging you to eat. And you did- because he clearly wasn't ready to have this conversation.

Just as you finished eating, a car stopped in front of the store and Yeosang motioned for you to follow him. Unsure, you did- ironically, he was the only one you could trust right now.

"Why am I even following you when we hate each other," you muttered, and Yeosang scoffed.

"Why am I even inviting you, huh? Get in," he held the door open for you and you sat at the backseat, Yeosang going in the front and when the driver turned to get a look at you-

"You!"

You were going to escape- you weren't sure you would survive the ride to wherever the destination was when the driver was none other than Wooyoung.

"Oh how the tables have turned!" He laughed, Yeosang slapping his arms and looking apologetically at you, as if saying that yes, this was his only option and he's sorry.

"She's been a captive for 3 weeks, can you tone it down a bit?" Yeosang glared at Wooyoung who couldn't stop grinning as he drove.

"Almost didn't recognize you, you poor thing," Wooyoung looked at you from the rear-view mirror and you just stared out of the window, "Did they not feed you there?"

You and Wooyoung were actually on friendlier terms than you and Yeosang had ever been, which came as quite a surprise to everyone who learned that, since Yeosang and Wooyoung went quite a way back and well... Wooyoung was friends with basically everyone. He was someone you warmed up to instantly. And though you weren't his 'friend', you could easily have been because you had never found it difficult to have a simple chat with him whenever they met up for business- or as rivals, in a fight.

"They did not, actually, if you can't tell from my face," you retorted, Wooyoung ooh-ing at your response, noticing that you were very angry right now.

"What do you wanna eat? Come on, I still owe you a meal, don't I? Or was it the other way round?"

It was the other way round, but you weren't going to admit it. "You do. And I would like some coffee and anything with sugar very, very much."

Which was how you ended up in Yeosang's room, wide awake with coffee in your system, digging into the brownies as Yeosang and Wooyoung examined your back, allowing Wooyoung only because apparently he was 'good at this'.

As for Yeosang... he had already seen it.

"I would ask about the old scars, but I feel like it's not my place," Wooyoung bit his lips, meeting Yeosang's gaze and Yeosang nodded, the both of them strangely feeling angered at the sight of her torn back, but you- you were trying to distract yourself.

"Gosh, I could eat the whole box," you muttered as you took a third brownie, and Yeosang shook his head at you, but he was internally pleased to see you eat.

"You'll end up throwing up if you eat too much," Wooyoung warned, "Take the box away, Yeosang."

"No!" You wailed, trying to get up but Yeosang was quicker, the brownies out of reach now. Grumpily, you nibbled at the one in your hand.

"I have to go," Wooyoung read a text from his phone and announced, "Business calls. Yeosang, patch up the wound- you can wash up if you want to first."

"Oh I do," you got up, finishing the brownie, "You better have a good fucking shampoo, Yeosang."

After a very long shower, your back literally burning as you stifled your screams, the shampoo residue stinging the still open wounds, you wrapped yourself in the bathrobe, coming out to get your wounds treated.

Yeosang cleared his throat, realizing that you'd be quite naked as he tended to your back. But all thoughts left him when he beheld your now red wounds.

"Maybe you shouldn't have showered..."

"Please, I felt filthy," you muttered, "Just get it over with."

Yeosang applied ointment to your wounds, his hands gentle, then taped bandages, and before he knew, he was running his finger across an old scar-

And you noticed.

"Who did this to you?"

His voice barely came out as a whisper, and you just ignored the question, asking for clothes. Yeosang handed you new clothes which included a soft button up shirt, trousers and even undergarments, and you eyes him suspiciously.

"Got these at the store," Yeosang simply said, and you realized he had planned all this before hand. Thanking him, you ditched the bra- it would only hurt your wounds and you wore the rest. Coming out of the bathroom, you stood awkwardly, and Yeosang motioned at the chair next to him, where he had been sitting and gazing out at the sky.

You turned on the dim lamp and turned off all other lights before you joined him, and he offered you water, which you gladly took.

"My boss... you know he practically raised me, right?"

Yeosang hadn't expected you to chat with him so he was caught off-guard, but he shook his head yes.

"Well... let's just say he didn't quite know how to tame me."

Yeosang was about to speak but then he realized what you were talking about-

The scars.

"You know nothing justifies what he did to you."

"I know," you sighed, "I know."

"And now... the fact that he'll kill you the first chance he gets-" Yeosang let out a frustrated sigh as he ran his hands through his hair.

"I still have to go-"

"Don't," Yeosang practically begged, surprising you with the desperation that laced his voice, "Don't go back."

"Yeosang-"

"No," he took your hand, surprising you yet again, your heart picking pace, "You don't need to go back, okay? He will find out that you're here and he'll come after us anyway, even if we let you go... but we got you, okay? I got your back. So trust me, and don't go."

You scanned his face- there was no hint of mischief in his eyes anymore, in fact it was worry that you saw. And you were conflicted- in any other situation, you would have known this was a simple prank- something you both often did; making bold confessions out of nowhere just to rile the other person up, but this...

You looked down at the hand that held yours, caressing it absently. And you knew there was nothing but truth here.

"If you insist," you scoffed, "What's got you all chummy, Kang Yeosang?"

Yeosang laughed shyly- shyly? You hadn't expected this either.

"You know what," Yeosang got up, helping you up and taking you to one of the single beds in the room, "We don't have to fight anymore. Why did we fight anyway? Let's be friends instead."

"Now where would the fun in that be?" You retorted, and Yeosang clapped.

"I was going to make fun of you if you were going to say yes," Yeosang smirked, and you realized some of this was a prank after all. You couldn't figure him out. "Get some sleep. It's gonna be a big day tomorrow."

----------------------

"Bloody hell."

All it took was one look at your face for those words to escape Kim Hongjoong's mouth- the gang leader. And you knew you had to be looking horrible for him to lose his demeanor.

Truth be told, you hadn't taken one look in the mirror ever since you got back, and you weren't eager to as well. But you bit your lip as you looked at Yeosang, and he nodded in confirmation.

Bloody hell indeed.

"Tell me you're feeding her," Hongjoong slumped back, "You're all skin and bones."

"I can imagine," you took your seat in front of Hongjoong, only three of you in his office, "now, shall we?"

"So tell me," Hongjoong leaned forward, elbows on the table, "What do I get out of this?"

"Well," you cleared your throat, "I don't have any idea how valuable this key is," you picked it out from your shoe, waving it in the air, "but I am sure it is too valuable to lose. I'll have to see the contents to be sure."

"And you said it belongs to a safe, which is located..."

"We'll have to raid one of my boss' resorts, it seems."

It was Yeosang's idea- all night he had been thinking while you had slept comfortably for the first time- and you had been out for a good 26 hours, especially with the fever. You were force-fed medicines and you were finally able to walk without falling after two days.

So Yeosang had suggested that she join their gang- or stay on the run forever. You couldn't imagine joining their gang since the 8 of them were so closely knit, and you told him, but he was having none of it. Wooyoung came by, agreeing that it was a good idea- all of them already were familiar with you so it wouldn't be too awkward, plus, according to Wooyoung, 'this place needs a feminine touch'.

You could run away- but you knew the life ahead wouldn't be easy that way. You would always be cautious of every step you took and you'd have to look behind your back everywhere. Your boss wouldn't let you live peacefully, ever.

"Raiding is a specialty of ours," Hongjoong grinned, "And you have the key to access something so valuable to your boss that he couldn't risk getting out his most trustworthy employee."

"Correct," you nodded, "What do I get in return?"

"Welcome to the gang," Hongjoong announced, "You'll work with Yeosang and San- you're all assassins, so it shouldn't be a problem. However, you'll have to be faithful."

"Of course," you set your chin high, "I was faithful to my boss even in captivity, but it looks like he betrayed me. So yes, I can guarantee my loyalty as long as you guarantee yours."

Hongjoong scanned your face, slowly nodding, "I say we got ourselves quite a gem, eh Yeosang?"

Yeosang laughed, "Are we not enough for you Hongjoong?"

You were surprised at how casually Yeosang and Hongjoong could interact- with your boss, it had been all formalities and him practicing his authority on anyone and everyone, but this...

It felt warm, and you couldn't help but smile.

"We need to be quick with this operation," Hongjoong said, "We have planted a false trail indicating you ran away, but your former fellow employees will soon realize it's us you're with. How quick can you be?"

"Tonight," you said, nodding at Yeosang, "Let's do it tonight."

----------------

"Are you sure you can do this?" Yeosang asked for the fifth time, and you stopped in the middle of wearing your gear.

"Yeosang," you sighed, "What's got you so worried about me?"

Yeosang noticed the playfulness in your tone, "A number of things, actually. Apart from the fact that this could still be a trap that you're setting us up for, apart from the fact that you might possibly betray us tonight, I do think your physical health isn't so fit right now."

You jumped in the air, "I feel lighter, which means I'll be quicker."

Yeosang raised his brow, waiting for you to address the other problem in question. You counted your daggers and bullets, finally looking at him.

"I can't prove it with words, so you'll just have to see if I pass the test tonight."

"She does have a point," San said as he handed you a bulletproof vest and night vision glasses, "It's not like she'll tell you if she plans on betraying us."

"See," you smirked, "He knows. You're asking dumb questions, Yeosang."

"Well," Yeosang waited for San to leave before slowly stepping forward, until he was almost touching you, his figure towering over you and he glared at you.

"If any of my friends get hurt tonight because of you," Yeosang's voice was deep, making a shiver run down your spine, "I won't spare you."

"Well," you retorted, glaring back, standing on your tip toes, "If you hand me over to the very person who has tortured me all my life and who I finally have the chance to escape from... I'll never forgive you, Kang Yeosang."

Something flashed in Yeosang's eyes, but he only matched your glare, the two of you thinking, none of you moving.

"The tension between them is so obvious," Wooyoung muttered to San, the two of them giggling, and you just hmph-ed at Yeosang before turning away.

"Are we going or what?"

-------------------

"Are you sure this is the right place?"

"I have a good memory, Seonghwa," you tsk-ed at his question, "And when I tell you I saw a glimpse of the address to the resort he most frequently visits, it has to be this- or the one least frequently visited."

"Have you ever seen the safe?" Seonghwa asked, using his binoculars to count the number of men stationed outside, "I have to say, with the number of men stationed outside..."

"My boss is... a dumb man, actually," you admitted, and Seonghwa grinned because you both knew it was true, "He doesn't believe in the art of deception. He's straightforward like that- stationing 40 men outside a single resort? You'd think it was made of gold."

"How has no one robbed him till date?"

"Me," you flipped your hair and Yeosang, who was right next to you, scoffed, "Plus manpower. Simple and efficient."

"Right," Seonghwa slid down from the tree, motioning for everyone to gather for the plan.

"Alright, we have to get her inside since she won't just hand over the key to us," Seonghwa gave you a side-eye and you stuck your tongue out, "Our first priority is getting Yeosang and her inside, and we'll prevent any of those men entering the house."

"I'll distract them," Wooyoung said, winking once before acting like a drunken person, a bottle in his hand as he sang a song about illusions, slowly trailing to the path that led to the gate. Meanwhile, San went at the back, acting the same and you and Yeosang waited for the cue while Yunho and Seonghwa went to clear the path.

And a few moments later, when fire lit the sky, you and Yeosang jumped over the wall, swiftly running to the nearest window and getting down.

"I know where the alarms are, but there's no guarantee if boss replaced some after I got caught," you whispered, motioning for him to follow you, "The safe is actually in the basement, or so the rumours say."

"Let's get inside," Yeosang said, breaking the window with a rock and clearing the glass with his sleeve, entering first and making sure it was clear before allowing you to enter, and as soon as you did-

You jumped on Yeosang, landing on the floor, the bullet narrowly escaping his head, and in a quick motion your dagger went flying for the attacker's heart, rendering him immobile. Yeosang was breathless for a few moments before getting up.

"Watch your back," you said, taking the dagger out and sliding it back, letting the man bleed to death- you didn't look at his face, because you knew you'd recognize him- or anyone who dies tonight, as a matter of fact.

"Thanks," Yeosang breathed, and you led the way to the stairs, noticing two men stationed at the door of the single room in the basement.

"Now that's an upgrade too," you muttered, turning to look at Yeosang who was so close to you as he peeked over you that your face bumped on his shoulder, "Back off a bit, give me space to breathe."

Yeosang purposely got closer, almost making you lose your step and fall in front of the guards, and you slapped his arm as he stifled a giggle, "This is no time to play!"

"Oh? What time do we play then, pray tell?"

Ignoring him, you loaded your gun with tranquilizers, Yeosang doing the same, aiming to take the guards one on one since they had the element of surprise. Knocking them out in seconds and unarming them, you tried opening the door that was locked.

"Okay, hear me out," you said, raising your hands in surrender, "I have no idea what's inside. This could be a trap, we could find too much inside, I don't know what happens, okay?"

"Okay," Yeosang practically dismissed your statement, bending over to unlock the door with pins, and you sighed.

"I'm serious," you warned, "I'm not responsible for whatever happens."

Having unlocked the door, Yeosang sighed, putting his hands on your shoulders as he scanned your surprised face.

"I... I know. I know you can be trusted, just don't let me down on your part, will you?"

The dim lights were making Yeosang's facial structure seem like art- truly a sculpture. You gulped, nodding, and didn't miss the smirk as he took his hands off, nodding at you once and opening the door.

It was a simple room set like an office, but-

Another room.

"I'm betting 10 that there's an assassin who's not me or you in this room-"

Yeosang almost knocked the breath out of you as he whirled you at the side, meeting the said assassin's dagger with his own, the two engaging in close combat and it took you a few seconds to grasp the situation, taking a dagger in each hand and waiting for an opening-

But the two were blindingly quick and a grunt of pain escaped Yeosang as the dagger sliced his arm, and at the very moment when Yeosang's defense dropped and the assassin let loose-

You sent the dagger flying for the nape of his neck, grinning when it hit home.

"Go easy with the killings, will you?" Yeosang shook his head, examining his arm, "Who pissed you off tonight?"

"I can't believe my boss stationed a person here who is not me when I'm the one he's supposed to have been trusting the most."

Yeosang stared at you- your training had taught you to kill brutally and that was a fact known to everyone, and he realized you were your boss' right hand for a reason.

You were practically invincible, and oh, he never realized how hot you looked in your assassin gear.

"You done gawking?" You said, bending down to unlock the door you hoped was the last door tonight, and Yeosang shook his head as he grinned.

"The old you is back, it seems," he said, referring to your tone.

"That's still me, don't expect me to be all chummy with you-"

"Easy with this pin," Yeosang's hand slid over yours, guiding it to twist the pin in the door and you didn't hear the door unlock because all you could hear was Yeosang's breath near your ears.

He was getting to you, and both of you knew it.

As if on purpose, he slid his hand across your arm before withdrawing it away, opening the door before you could question his actions-

"That is one big ass safe."

You breathed- Yeosang was right. It was one big ass safe alright. You took out the key that you had safely taped to your bra, Yeosang watching with his mouth agape, and you both held your breath unconsciously when you put in the key, marveling at how it fit right in and turned it.

You opened the door to reveal a shitload of papers- documents, probably property documents and whatnot, but in the middle of it was another password protected safe.

"Should we just, I don't know, carry it with us?"

"Boss isn't that dumb," you let out a short laugh at Yeosang's question, motioning at the wire behind the locker, indicating it was either going to combust or activate an alarm if anything went wrong.

"Now what?" Yeosang said.

"First of all, now you know I can be trusted."

Yeosang scanned you. "For all I know, there's gonna be a 'got you' card inside."

You rolled your eyes, burning holes as you glared at the locker- as if your eyes could unlock them. "Now what could the password be?"

"Try 0000."

"Yeosang," you sighed, running a frustrated hand through your hair, "It must be a date- an important date to him."

Yeosang's phone vibrated, and he picked it up, his eyebrows furrowed in worry as he listened.

"They're largely outnumbered now," Yeosang said, "We have two minutes max. Think."

"I can't think right now," you groaned, clenching your hair, "There must be a number of possibilities. I can't go back without checking the locker, Yeosang, without taking what he has, he'll come and get me-"

"Hey, hey," Yeosang called your name, grabbing you by the arms and making you sit on a chair he dragged, rubbing your shoulders in comfort.

"You are a genius, you know that, right? You know you got a brain that works, right?"

You nodded, "Not working."

Yeosang shook his head at your words, watching your leg fidget and your hands tremble as time ran out, and you had to stand up because this was too much-

"Look at me," Yeosang said, and you turned, not expecting what happened next, which was Yeosang's hands cupping your face, tucking your hair aside gently, basically just...

Comfort touch. That's what it was.

"Relax," he whispered, "You'll be safe whether we get this or not. I won't let anything happen to you, you hear me?"

You couldn't really hear him, in fact, because your heart was pounding loudly because of the pressure and the situation you were in right now. Yeosang brought you closer, wrapping his arms around you, his hand caressing your head.

"Take a deep breath, with me, come on," he instructed, and you followed, your breaths syncing, "You've done so well. You've held on for so long, any one would have given in by now. But not you. You know why?"

Yeosang drew back, caressing your face.

"Because you're strong. You're the strongest person I know, you hear me?"

You knew it wasn't the time to cry, but you couldn't stop the tears that pricked your eyes, and Yeosang only smiled as he wiped your eyes, planting a lingering kiss on your forehead.

"You have 3 tries. We can try, or we can turn back. It's your choice."

"We have to try," you said, and Yeosang nodded.

"Do your best. I got you."

You were glad for the words and were convinced there was some magic to all this because suddenly your head was clear, and you stepped inside the safe, entering your boss' birthday-

The beep that sounded was awful.

"It's okay, go on," Yeosang rubbed your back gently, and you nodded, entering the date he became the leader of this gang-

Wrong.

"I don't know," you cried, but Yeosang only hugged you again, assuring you it didn't matter, and though you told him it could be dangerous, he only said they'd had enough time to take cover in case that happened.

You wracked your brain- what was so important to him that he'd use it as a password?

It felt like you were downed in ice as realization dawned upon you-

He had handed you the key.

He had always told people that you were his most important asset.

It had to be the date he met you for the first time.

You went down memory lane as you recalled the events of that time 15 years ago- when you had just been a child, freshly orphaned and left with what people presumed was your father's insurmountable wealth all passed down to you (but had been passed to charity, from what you knew)- but because your father had enemies, you had been running for your life until your boss- your father's friend- had found you and taken you in.

You were suddenly dreading what the locker held in.

Your fingers felt numb as you pressed the date and waited for that awful beep to sound- but the only sound you heard was Yeosang's gasp as the locker clicked open.

"You did it," Yeosang breathed, clapping.

"I did it," you laughed, looking at Yeosang, "I did it."

"Take whatever you want," Yeosang said, "No time to look, fill our bags and let's get away."

You nodded, Yeosang opening the bags and you filling it with the cash, the gold bars and some documents- you made sure the locker was as empty as new before you shut it, shutting the safe too and taking the key with you, Yunho joining you as soon as you exited the building, and you stopped for a second, burying the key beneath a random plant only you would remember.

You saw all the men knocked out on the way and you had to praise Seonghwa, Wooyoung, Yunho and San for so efficiently having done the job, only minor cuts and bruises as the damage. You didn't dare open the bags until you were back in the room with Yeosang, the rest giving you the space you needed because it was your right to see it first.

And yours alone- however Yeosang had tagged along casually, and you didn't mind.

"I can't believe this," you groaned, "In my enemy's room, with my boss' wealth at my feet."

"That sounds... interesting," Yeosang smirked, and you rolled your eyes, "I like it better when we're not at each other's throats."

"I don't," you said casually, but it looked like Yeosang had other plans as he slid behind you, drawing your hair at one side and whispering in your ear-

"How about being at each other's throats... like this?"

You had to squeeze your eyes shut at the feel of his breath on your skin as he breathed in, his nose tingling your neck-

"Yeosang-"

"Shh," he whispered, his arms wrapping around your waist, "I want you so bad."

You couldn't tell if this was him getting at you like he used to- back when things were normal. He'd do things like this to rile you up, and though you both would never admit it, it turned you both on in inexplainable ways. However, you were always confused as to what he wanted-

You turned around, grabbing Yeosang's hands before he could try anything, "Can you stop being a dick for two minutes?"

"You think I don't want you?" Yeosang raised his brow as he pulled you dangerously close, "You think I'm lying?"

"I wouldn't believe you, Kang Yeosang," you glared at him, "All you do is lie anyway."

"I've never lied about how I felt about you."

"And that's a lie too."

Yeosang groaned in frustration, "Why do you think I never made a move on you?"

You pursed your lips- was he actually serious about this?

"All this... flirting we did, as 'enemies'- and what a title for us when all I wanted was you this close to me," Yeosang sighed, and you couldn't believe what you were hearing, "I didn't want to get you in trouble with your boss- I knew he was an animal. I care about you, even though it might not seem like it. And now that I know what an absolute monster he's been to you..."

You watched Yeosang's brows furrow in a pained expression as he brought his hand to your face.

"I'm never going to let you go back."

You sighed, leaning into his touch, and that was all the confirmation he needed as he brought his face closer until your lips brushed-

And then he drew back.

"You might want to make sure nothing in there would change your mind," Yeosang's voice was hoarse, "I don't... I'm not doing this if you are going to go away."

Your knees were already weak and truth be told, you knew nothing in there would change your mind- you were never going back, not to him. You sighed, resting your head against Yeosang's chest as you calmed your breathing, not looking at him as you made your way to the bag which contained the documents.

You examined them one by one, Yeosang counting the cash and the gold in the meanwhile, and by the time you were done, you were crying rather hysterically.

"What's the matter?" Yeosang rubbed your back but you just slumped further down in the bed as you muffled your cries, muffled your screams. Yeosang held you as you cried, and between your sobs you managed to say some words-

Lies. Betrayal.

Your boss... he had never been that dumb, alright. He'd given 10 year old you the proof you needed- fake documents that said your father's wealth had been passed down to charity except a small amount for you, which wasn't enough in any way. However, the documents in your hands now said otherwise-

Your father, one of the wealthiest businessman of his time, had left all his wealth to his sole heir- you. He'd left nothing to his friend- your boss. Everything inside the locker, all the contents belonged to you alone- all legal money so you wouldn't get in trouble for it.

You cried for the life you could have had, for the pain of the scars you had on your back.

And Yeosang was fuming as he heard that, promising to teach your boss a lesson- and his tone said he was serious.

Sipping from the cup of coffee that Yeosang got for you, you finally calmed down, looking at the cash and the gold spread around you in sets.

"All of this... it's only yours."

"What am I gonna do, with all of this?"

"Anything you want," Yeosang's smile was genuine.

"Tell me one thing, Yeosang," you set your cup down, "Why do you like me?"

Yeosang sighed, smiling, "You got me good since the day we met. I did hate you at first, just like you must have hated me, but... somehow, I started looking forward to our interactions."

You smiled, shaking your head, making him laugh out loud- the laugh that had always been music to your ears.

"What am I going to do with you, Kang Yeosang?"

Yeosang couldn't take it anymore- he climbed on the bed, crawling forward until his lips met yours, and the sigh that escaped you said enough.

Finally.

Fucking finally.

Your arms immediately wrapped around his neck as he pushed you back, getting on top of you and kissing you, the kisses picking pace with every passing second, and he had to break apart when you groaned into the kiss.

"I wish I did this earlier," he couldn't breathe.

"Never too late," you smirked, and he brought his mouth back on yours, moving in unison, and you marveled at how they fit as if made for each other. One of his hands guided your face, holding at your neck, his thumb caressing your face while the other roamed around your waist, teasingly slow.

Yeosang broke the kiss, catching his breath as he took his time to memorize your face, his eyes roaming slowly around, taking in the curves and angles.

He caught you by surprise when he started peppering soft kisses all over your face- on your forehead, cheeks, nose, until you were a blushing mess and you couldn't take it anymore.

"You owe me one, remember?"

It took you a good moment to realize what he was talking about: when he had freed you from captivity.

You did owe him one.

You scanned his face, biting your lip. What was he thinking?

Before you could ask, he was kissing your jaw, travelling down your neck, satisfied grunts escaping both of you and you almost forgot what he had just said until he mumbled-

"I want you. So. Bad."

Your stomach sank dangerously at his words, and you just responded by fisting his shirt and connecting your mouths again, and Yeosang started unbuttoning your shirt and broke apart only to take off his own, going to attack your neck, wringing out moans from you as he teased your bare skin, his hands going lower and lower, stopping again as he scanned your eyes for any sign of discomfort, smiling when he found them dazed instead.

"You owe me one." He caressed your face so gently, as if it held something fragile, "Don't leave. Stay here, with me. That's what I want."

"I was going to tell you to keep it for later because I was going to stay anyway," you smirked, "too bad you've lost your opportunity-"

"I take it back," Yeosang laughed, kissing your forehead, "How come you've decided to stay?"

You took a deep breath, thinking how to word it and Yeosang lay down with you, "I've always admired how close knit the 8 of you are, and work like friends, without hierarchies, without pulling ranks. And the way you're willing to accept me, no questions asked... I'm overwhelmed, to be honest."

Yeosang smiled, tracing shapes on your waist, making you tickle slightly, "We're practically friends, the guys adored you anyway."

"You hated me!"

"Never," Yeosang shook his head, "I just needed a reason to talk to you and rile you up. You know how I love it when you frown at me or glare at me-"

You slapped Yeosang's hand, making him laugh out loud, "I hate you."

"Do you, now?"

"Anyways," you gulped, ignoring the devilish smirk on his face, "You have to let me do one thing."

Though Yeosang strongly rejected your idea, you only pushed forward, seeing it as a sort of investment, promising it wasn't a gift and you were getting something out of it too- though everyone thought it was too much to accept, especially Hongjoong. But you told them you weren't going to take the money to your grave-

And you had to take your property back from your boss.

The very lavish house he lived in that belonged to you- you had to take it back. He wasn't allowed to dwell there anymore. You were going to whip him like he did to you all those years, and if you felt merciful enough, you would give him the gift of death. And then you'd get your boys out of the old mansion they currently lived in, and make your house the new residence.

You didn't let yourself be distracted by anyone- especially Yeosang- as you planned the downfall of your previous gang, and when you stood outside your home, the 8 of them by your side, you kissed Yeosang and made him promise he wouldn't interfere and wouldn't risk his life, making everyone promise the same.

"Once night time comes," Yeosang growled in your ear, "I am gonna make you mine."

You practically melted right there- you wanted to tell him that he already owned you. But you only sighed, nodding.

He had you alright.

And he only proved it when it was the middle of the night, your bodies still sore from all the fighting, your minds relieved because you were now in your home, safe, and your boss was... well, dead, not before you made him sign a document that made you the sole heir to all his property and wealth as well. The men and women, his employees, either died fighting or surrendered- most of them had known you and hated their boss like you did.

It had been laughably easy.

And you could have said you were prepared for how the events turned out, but nothing could have prepared you for when you and Yeosang finally went in your room and he shut the door, practically slamming you against the wall as he kissed the living soul out of you.

And you knew it was gonna be a long, long night, especially with the both of you fighting for dominance, none of you giving in, clothes off in a hurried motion, slamming on basically every wall and furniture, marking each other's skin and making each other moan so loud you were positive everyone heard it.

And as you lay in bed, in Yeosang's embrace, you felt safe, for the first time in your life.

"I think I like us better when we're at each other's throats after all," you grinned, making Yeosang open one eye to see what you actually meant. And his smile told you he wasn't disappointed.

"I like us better like that too," Yeosang said, making you squeal as he attacked your neck with kisses and bites again.

[enhas-bestie]

the colour of snow [ksn]

pairing: kim sunoo x (fem!) reader

trope: unrequited soulmate au.

genre: angst

summary: you'll only know the colours of the wonders of the world once you meet your soulmate.

“yn, what colour do you think the snow is?”

you slow down your walk slightly to look at your best friend quizzically. sunoo stares right back at you, expectantly waiting for an answer as the two of you continue your slow journey to campus.

“the colour of snow?” you hum softly, feeling the bite of winter’s air blowing against your cheeks as you ponder over his question, “everybody only starts seeing colours when they meet their soulmate sunoo…so i guess you just have to wait until then.” you supply unhelpfully; smiling at the eyeroll he gives you back in return. no doubt he’d heard that sort of answer countless times growing up. you did too.

“I know that…but still,” sunoo stops walking and you instinctively mirror him by pausing your step, “even people who can see colours never tell us anyway, so I was thinking–what if snow has no colour?”

“what?” you snicker at his theory, and then full on laugh at his offended pout, “sunoo, how can something have no colour? that’s impossible.” you don’t even want to think about the thought process he took coming up with that theory.

you shake your head amusedly as you wrap your arms around one of his and push him lightly, “come on, we’re gonna be late.” you remind him, pushing him to walk despite all of his sulky protests.

looking at the forlorn expression on his face, you sigh, “you know exactly why they don’t tell us the colours of things like the snow, or the sun, or the sea–”

sunoo interrupts you with another eye roll, “because they want us to experience the beauty of colours for the first time with our soulmate blah blah blah–whatever.”

“see,” you grin up at him, “you already know why!”

you watch fondly as sunoo pulls a face and continues to sulk, “come on sunoo, you know–oh.” you stumble as you’re abruptly pushed back. before you can fall, sunoo’s hands are on your shoulders, preventing you from crashing onto the floor.

“I'm so sorry!” a girl you recognise vaguely from seeing her on campus apologises furiously, but she barely looks you in your face as she scrambles to gather the giant canvas and scraps of papers that has fallen from her hands and onto the sidewalk, “I’m so sorry-shit now i’m definitely gonna be late,” she mutters to herself and the looks up at you with a panicked grin, “i’m so sorry–”

“don’t even worry about it.” you say, a feeling of concern bubbling in your chest when you see the pieces of tar covering the still sticky paint on her project. before your own apology even has the chance to leave your lips, she cuts you off with one more “i’m so sorry”, and then she’s off, running to god knows where. you’re left watching her run away, feeling increasingly bad that her artwork was indirectly ruined by you.

“I hope that painting wasn’t for marks or anything,” you say out loudly, “fuck, i feel so bad now…sunoo, what if she fails or something?” when silence greets you back, you turn questioningly to face sunoo, “hey,” you frown as you see his frozen expression, “are you okay?”

sunoo turns to you, his sharp eyes roaming all over your face as he inhales a sharp breath, “colours,” he whispers, and your heart stops,  “yn, I can see colours.” 

you feel like a bucket of icy water has been thrown over your head as you and sunoo look at the spot on the pavement–the spot where flecks of paint have smudged into the cement, “it has to be her–” he looks at you in amazement, his mind still reeling from the overwhelming hues of colour dusting his vision, “yn, that’s my soulmate!”

“your soulmate…?” you repeat slowly, as your brain struggles to piece together the situation unravelling before you.

sunoo brings his hands up to cover his mouth in excitement and you force yourself to swallow down the lump in your throat, “I can't believe this–yn, I can see colours now! but wait–” his eyes widen, “wait, shit–yn, she's gone.” sunoo looks arounds frantically, but the street the two of you are standing in is still empty, “yn, i’ll be right back okay–yn, do you hear me?”

“sunoo, i-” you think better of it and stop. you didn’t want to cause unnecessary drama for him–didn’t want him to feel guilty for not reciprocating your hidden feelings, “...yeah, i hear you.”

sunoo looks at you with a smile so wide and happy, it almost breaks you, “go ahead yn!” he yells, already halfway down the street–already halfway closer to his soulmate than he was before– “i’ll meet you later, okay!”

“okay.” your reply drifts in the wind softly as you watch him turn around fully, running to find the girl who made him see colours. you watch his back until he rounds the corner, until you can’t see him anymore, and then you allow yourself to falter. you walk slowly to the curb of the road, just replaying everything that happened over and over again until your mind is consumed by only sunoo’s smile and the fact that he found his soulmate that definitely wasn’t you.

when you sit down on the cold hard cement, you look up at the grey sky and let out a shaky sigh. in the distance, you can see little flecks of snow beginning to fall from the heavens and you smile. it doesn’t matter if the smile is real or fake–it’s one you have been wearing for far too long now. one that was supposed to help you convince yourself that kim sunoo was nothing more than just a friend–because you knew that was what you would always just be to him. you knew it exactly two years ago the moment you saw him in the crowded lecture hall and his beautiful and painfully brown eyes scanned over you without a passing thought.

a glitch in an otherwise perfect system.

sunoo had asked you what colour the snow was, and you avoided answering him. but now, in the cold silence, seated on the curb of a snow-dusted street, you’re able to be honest.

“white,” your voice cuts through the tranquil air as a snowflake drops to melt on your outstretched hand, “the colour of the snow is white.”

[burningflamescurse]

“Our Precious Treasure.”

Mafia SBI AU! x Child!Oc (Marianne)

Description: A Small Child Stabbed By a Rival Mafia Gang left for Dead in Sbi’s Territory is Found By Philza, He takes Pity on the Child And Beings Her Home, to be their Precious Treasure.

Warnings: Dark SBI, Murders, Kidnapping, Forced Adoption.

Chapter One: “Oh, you Poor thing~”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Marianne Shivered in the Cold Alleyway as the Man Who Stabbed Her Stood above her Cackling With the Knife Dripping with blood his Hand.

Little Squeaks Of Fear Escaped her, The Tail Below Her Started To Weakly Flip In Fear, The Ears on her head Twitched Weakly as She Heard Footsteps Come Closer to her and The Man.

He Ran Away Dropping the Knife with a Clatter to the Ground, Another Man Appeared, a Green Coat Covering his Body, Blue Eyes, Black Wings, Blonde hair, and a Green and White Striped Bucket Hat.

He Also Had two Identical Emerald Earrings.

“Oh, You Poor thing.” He Whispered as He Kneeled Down next to Marianne, She Squeaked Again, her Wolf Hybrid Instincts Acting Up Again.

It Sounded Like a Wolf Pup Squeaking in Fear.

“Awe, it’s Okay, Little One, Your Safe Now.” he Said Lifting Up Marianne, Who Squeaked Loudly.

Her Squeaks Continued as She was Carried away, Soon the Man Carried her to a Man With Pink Hair Tied up in a Neat Braid, With Ruby Red Eyes, Who Also Had Emerald Earrings Hanging From his Ears.

He Stood Beside a Smaller Man, Short Brown Hair, a Red Beanie, Those Signature Emerald Earrings, Blue Eyes as Well, He Wore a Brown Trench Coat, and Black Jeans.

“Phil?” The Pink Haired Man Asked, His Eyebrow Raised as His Looked at the Small Child In His Arms, She Flinched Away From Him.

“Techno, I Found her Bleeding Out, Rival Gang Member Stabbed her in Our Territory.” Philza Said, Hugging her Closer to his Body.

Technoblade Sighed, “Resorting to hurting Stray Children.” He Grumbled, the Man Next to Technoblade Sighed as well.

“She is Such a Cutie Though.” He Cooed at her.

Technoblade Flicked his Forehead, “Wilbur, Calm Down you Psychopath.” Techno Scolded His Little Brother.

Wilbur Reached Out His Hand to Pet Marianne’s Ears, But she Flinched Back Away From Wilbur’s Hands.

“Where’s Tommy?” Philza Asked, Technoblade Motioned to a Weak Body Behind Them, Tommy Standing Over it, A Bloodied Knife In his Hand, Philza Recognized the Person as the Rival Who Stabbed Marianne.

Philza Smiled Darkly as Wilbur Cooed Out to Marianne Trying to Touch Her Ears, She Squeaked Out Loudly as Wilbur Did Try to.

“Awe, She’s Chirping!” Wilbur Cooed Out as She Shifted into her Wolf Pup Form, Paws Larger then her Own Legs as She Squeaked Some More.

Tommy Came Closer, his Blue Eyes Sparked at the Little Pup in Philza’s arms, Techno, the Piglin Hybrid, Held his arms Out to Hold the Little One.

Marianne Snuggled into Technoblade’s Chest, Sniffing His Scent, Smelling to be Warm, Safe, Home.

Her Tail Wagged.

“Why Oh why Did He Do this To a Little Pup?” Tommy Muttered Out, Looking Over to the Limp Body He had Previously Stabbed.

He Hadn’t Stabbed Him deep Enough to Kill the Man, But He was Very Weak Now, Unable to Harm a Single Fly.

“Father, He’s Not Dead Yet, We Can Make Him Suffer More at the Base.” Tommy Suggested, Poking at the Man With the Knife Making a Whimper Come From The Weakened Man on the Ground.

“Techno, Take Marianne Back to the Base to the Nest, I must Speak to the Mafia This One Belongs to.” Philza Stated, His Now Blood Hungry Eyes Sifting over the Man.

Techno Nodded Before Hurrying Off With the Little One in his arms.

Philza Turned to Wilbur and Tommy Who Still Stood Over the Man.

“You Two Take Him Back to the Basement in the Base, Do as you Please to This City Rat.” Philza Said With a Dark Smile Before Spreading his Wings and Flying Off.

Wilbur Flashed a Creepy Grin at the Man as Tommy Lifted the man Up By his Hair.

This Man’s Time was Up.

Decided by the Sleepy Boi’s Mafia.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Technoblade Took Marianne to the Base Which Had a Very Large Nest Room, A Large King Sized Bed With Blankets and Pillows all Piled On top Of it, it Had Stuffed animals Near, anything a Wolf Hybrid Pup Could Want.

Techno Placed her On the Nest Watching as her Wolf Form Curled into the Soft Red Blanket On top, Curling Her Fluffy Tail Around her.

Techno Placed his Hand on her head in Between Her Ears Ruffling it, “Sleep Tight Runt.”

Once She was asleep Once Again Techno Pulled Out a Book and Sat Beside Her Reading To Himself all While They waited for The Other Three To Return.

While Overlooking Marianne He saw the Pup’s Ear Clipped with Something, a Gold Half Broken Earring, His Piglin Instincts were Going Wild.

Techno Leaned Closer to Examine the Item, Probably Forced Onto her Ear When She was Younger by her Shit Parents.

“Oh Runt, Your Our Precious Treasure Now.” Techno Whispered Before Returning to His Book.

Their Precious Treasure.

[dollscircus]

The Wolf of Dahila

Pt 1 - Wolf in the riverbank

P2 - Wolf in the barn

Sam X Darlin (Wolf)

Fantasy au.

Summary; Sam, a farmer in the countryside who wishes for a calm life gets more than he bargained for when he finds a monster hunter washed up on a riverbank. (Also Fredrick and Bright are younger in this au)

Words: 764

Cw: injury description

———

The air was colder that morning as Sam made his way through his property, Bright hot on his trail. Both carrying bags and buckets. Sam needed some of the plants that grow by the river bank hence the trip while Fredrick worked on some chores back on the farm.

There was a huge forest that stretched miles, it even reached the nearest town. A portion of the forest was some of Sam's lands with its river running through it.

That morning didn’t go how he expected, instead of finding a blue river the water was running with a red tint to it and the metallic scent of blood fingering every so slightly in the air.

Sam tracked the blood to a person, they were laying on the river back. Their body was covered in so much blood that he couldn’t even see where the injuries were, their body was covered with what used to be armour.

As he approached the riverbank, his foot stepped on a stick the sound apparently startling the person who Sam didn’t realise was alive let alone awake. A growl rang out, Sam paused. It wasn’t a human sound.

They shifted slightly while turning their head to look at Sam, the look in their eyes couldn’t only be described as feral.

They tried to move but they were too weak. Lifting themself up slightly before dropping to the ground, cursing under their breath. When Sam slowly began approaching, the person let out another animalistic growl, however Sam had been around enough creatures in his time to know the sound they make when hurt.

“I won’t hurt you.” He said calmly as he knelt beside them with the worst possible timing. Bright came barreling out of the trees, proudly holding up the bag they collected yelling as loudly as Sam would expect a 14 year old too.

Their yelling caused the injured person on the riverbank to growl again and jump which startled Bright into taking a step back.

“They’re just hurt, Bright don’t be scared.” Sam turned back to the person and noticed it. Hanging around their throat was a strong looking chain with a pedant attached to it. The symbol of a wolf on the pedant.

“You’re a-“ Sam trailed when realising that the person had passed out. Cursing, Sam turned to Bright again and told them to go get Fredrick. He would need help carrying them back.

———

Wolf winced as they slowly came too, their whole body throbbing with pain. The last thing they remembered was the sensation of the cold river throwing them about and cold water rushing into their lungs.

That’s all they could remember, letting their tired eyes open. Looking around, Wolf winced as the sunlight was too much for their eyes. When their eyes had adjusted, Wolf began to look around.

They were in a barn, currently laying in a stable build for a horse. They looked at the pile of hay they were laying in, then to the furs draped over their body.

A shift shuffle caught their attention, glancing up to the door to the stable. Wolf made eye contact with someone, they were poking their eyes out over the door with their hands on the door. As soon as Wolf made eye contact their eyes widened and they ran away.

Wolf heard the door to the barn open and the sound of footsteps disappearing into the distance. A little confused, Wolf forced themself to sit up letting the furs drop from their body.

Quickly checking for it, the pendant around their neck was still there. Sighing, Wolf looked over their body. The clothes they wore under their armour was still there, the wounds in their body either fully healed or bandaged.

Neatly piled in the corner of the stable was their armour and other belongings. They thought of the book, groaning in pain as they began moving over to their stuff. Their armour was pretty much fucked so they didn’t both putting it on however they grab the belt that their sword and smaller weapons were attached too. Affixing it around their waist.

Picking of the book. They brushed the dirt off the cover, their touch causing the magical runes of the front to glow. This was keeping the book in good condition. Magic is great sometimes.

The sound of the stable door opening startled Wolf, a quiet growl slipped from their throat while drawing their sword from its sheath. Pointing the weapon as the person now standing in the stable.

“Steady on there hunter, wouldn’t want you hurtin’ yourself.”

[feliix]

Perfect Score ↠ Han Jisung

↠ Jisung x Reader (feat. Felix)

↠ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, Fake Dating!AU, Childhood Friends to Lovers

↠ Rating: M (18+)

↠ Word Count: 14.9k

↠ Summary: As you return home to work at your local coffee shop, you’re swarmed with couples coming in on lovey-dovey on dates. You’ve always hated the idea of love, but it’s Jisung’s mission to make you change your mind in just two weeks time.

↠ Warnings: idiots 2 lovers, mutual pining, unprotected sex, fingering, soft sex, language, light mentions of marking, mentions of bad past relationships

“That's disgusting.”

You grimace in the most subtle way as you watch the man across the shop press a gentle kiss on the cheek of the woman next to him. For some reason your shop is packed with couples this evening. Not that you’ve been counting, but they’re probably the 50th overly lovey-dovey pair that you’ve seen this just this shift alone. 

To say ‘love’ isn’t really your thing isn’t too far from the truth. Every time you’ve been burned by someone in the past has only made your hope about love deteriorate. Relationships suck. Already been there, done that, and you don’t plan on doing it again.

You’ve always stuck by the same theory; relationships either lead to heartbreak or marriage. And even still, marriage may still end in heartbreak, so what’s the point?

“Stop being so dramatic,” Jisung laughs, pulling you out of your thoughts as he rounds the corner. He’s just in time to catch your snide remark, surely it won’t be the last one you’ll make tonight though. He had just run to the back to get you a fresh package of cups after using up all the stock in the front.

Tonight is busy to say the least. The sun has already set, and it’s the afternoon rush when everyone comes in for their second daily dose of caffeine. And it’s definitely necessary – especially on a day as hot and exhausting as this one. It’s the third day that its been over 100º in a row and the humidity is doing a real number to your hair.

“It’s not dramatic,” you sigh, leaning on the counter behind you as Jisung maneuvers around you, placing the cups on the shelf underneath. In your mind it absolutely isnt. Its a mystery why all these people need to publicly display their affection in a coffee shop anyway...

It’s just the two of you on the schedule tonight. Your boss has always been kind of an asshole, just leaving 2 kids in their early twenties to run the shop by themselves while he went off to do god knows what. There's always been an aching suspicion that he just goes to the bar across the street, since his car is still parked behind the shop but he’s always nowhere to be found. That’s okay though, it's better than him looming over your shoulder and criticizing your technique the whole shift.

“Yeah, whatever you say,” Jisung shakes his head.

In stark contrast to yourself, Han Jisung is quite the hopeless romantic. So much so that he tends to search for love in all the wrong places. Maybe a better way to describe it is that Jisung has a series of flings. He’s not shy to test the waters of any girl he comes across – and there are many, many waters that he’s tested. Lucky you gets to hear all about each one, being his friend and all.

But to your good friend’s demise, his ‘relationships’ never end up working out for very long. Theres always some kind of fatal flaw that’s a means to an end. Whether it was Jisung’s fault or the girls,  it’s always confused you why he could never hold onto something longer than a couple months. Jisung is a great guy, it didn’t make sense.

So great that you have been best friends with him for as long as you could remember. It all started that time in pre-k, where you poured a shovel of sand on his head in the sandbox. Initially, it did make him cry, but he got over it eventually. Ever since, he’s been right by your side, sandy hair and all.

“How much longer,” your eyes roll back in your head, neglecting to look at the watch on your wrist in fear that your shift has a significant amount of time left. The night has been dragging on since you stepped foot in the door and heard the little jingle as it opened. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’d only made it through half your shift thus far.

“Just under an hour. Want to start the closing checklist so we can get outta here?” Jisung offers, reaching for the rag and sanitation bucket at the end of the counter.

Nodding your head, you follow his plan – beginning your mission to clean like a speed demon so you can leave no later than at 8 o’clock on the dot. 

Luckily, closing tonight goes as smoothly as it possibly can. You and Jisung are ready to get out of there at 8 on the dot, thanks to your determination to mop like a mad woman and stock the front as fast as humanly possible. 

The air outside feels crisper than usual. Maybe its because you’ve been locked up in a small room that smells like coffee beans for 10 hours, but you’ll never get enough of the night air. 

“So what are we doing tonight?”Jisung asks, his fingers adjusting the headband that sits just above his forehead.

“I was planning on going home and getting some rest…” you trail off, avoiding eye contact with him. Jisung always goes out after your weekend shifts and never lets up on convincing you to tag along. So you can’t look at him, his eyes are much too convincing make contact with, and you are beyond exhausted from working a double today.

“Gah you’re so boring,” he teases, stopping in his tracks in the center of the parking lot to ruffle the hair on top of your head, “it was an early night we should do something.”

With a deep sigh, you stop as well, smoothing down your hair as a pout forms on your lips. The suggestive smirk settling across Jisung’s face is telling; he knows he’s about to get his way before you have the chance to turn him down or fish for another excuse. So you tilt your head, subtly rolling your eyes as you wait for him to explain what his big plans for tonight are.

“I’ll be at your house by 9.”

Accepting defeat, you shoot him a thumbs up before turning to get into your car. Asking any more questions would take away any time you had to wash up – and smelling like coffee beans any longer is going to drive you up a wall since it hasn't already.

It doesn’t take much time for you to rush home and get ready, and before you know it Jisung is there to pick you up. Only a few minutes late, but that’s just par for the course and right on time in Jisung terms. 

The car ride to your destination feels like a blur with how exhausted you are. So when you end up at your favorite boba spot, you immediately perk up. Those tapioca pearls always manage to give you a second wind.

But when Jisung decides to take a seat at one of the round tables just outside the shop instead of getting back in the car you know somethings up. You were expecting to hop back in the passenger seat of his car, maybe listen to some music for a while and drive around to kill time. 

Initially he doesn’t say much. His legs just bounce hyperactively while he fidgits with the straw of his drink. It’s almost like he’s waiting for you to speak up; his eyes staring down at the cup in front of him instead of sipping from it, lip caught between his teeth.

The energy is off. Not only did you expect to hang out and do something adventurous like Jisung normally would, but now you’re watching his cheeks grow red while avoiding conversation.

Awkward silence becoming too much to bear, you take matters into your own hands. “So how are things going with that girl?”

“Oh yeah,” he sighs, his fingertips drumming along the surface of the table, “she didn’t really work out.”

Unsurprised by his response, you just nod along. Its always to expect since he’s the pickiest person you’ve ever met. His last relationship ended because he thought the girl breathed too loudly. The girl before that had an annoying laugh, and then the one before that didn’t like cheesecake. There always seems to be a laundry list of deal-breakers tied along to each one of Jisung’s relationships, and that is something you’ll always expect.

“You’re probably better off.”

You don’t think much of the words before they leave your lips. Relationships are a ton of work, and you’ve never understood the point of to putting all your effort into something like that. There is a way to just be happy on your own, you know.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” his eyebrows furrowing in response, hands gripping his thighs in anticipation

“You know what I think,” you tilt your heat matter-of-factly, “relationships are kind of just a waste of time.”

“What is with you and all this ‘anti-love’ stuff anyway, Y/N?”

Now thats a response that you are not prepared for. The question catches you off guard, a boba bubble almost catching in your throat leaving you a coughing mess. Jisung chuckles at your discomfort, waiting patiently for you to get it all out and just answer his question, as uncomfortable as it is. 

“I’ve wasted too much time with too many dead-beat guys to even think about love,” you sigh again, your coughing fit subsiding as you reach for your cup once again.

“Not every guy is a dead-beat.”

His words carry a harsh bite to them, almost as if he finds you’ve said offensive. It burns his ego a bit, assuming that you’re grouping him in with all the guys you’ve been with in the past. Which is strange, Jisung should know that he’s different. For one, you’ve never dated him before and two, if he was such a dead-beat you wouldn’t have kept him around for so long.

You aren’t able to talk to guys, or most people for that matter, in the same way that you talk to Jisung. He’s the one you rant about all the assholes to. He knows all the shit that you don’t tell anyone else, he’s like your own personal human diary. Secrets are always safe with him, it's not like he has anyone who would listen to the gossip even if he wanted to tell.

After a minute of silence his expression changes, Jisung’s eyes squinting at you in that ‘I have a crazy idea’ type of way. It’s a look that you haven’t seen very often, and you can’t say that you’ll ever get used to it. 

“Okay then I’ll make you a deal,” he proposes, a glimmering look in his eye that made you somewhat nervous. You never know what you are getting with Jisung, but most of the time his ‘deals’ are on the crazier side.

“What is it?” You still ask although you’re a bit nervous to hear his answer. If his plan is to set you up with one of his delinquent friends or something–

“Be my girlfriend.”

Your eyes widen as the words fall from his tongue, confusion taking over your expression as a small chuckle slips past his lips. Instinctively your stomach tightens, the air around you now feeling a bit heaver each second time ticks on. He can't be serious…

“Your what?”

“Two weeks is all I’m asking for. Be my girlfriend for just two weeks, and I’ll show you that love isn’t as shitty as you think it is.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” you shake your head, a disbelieving smile stretching wide across your face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he challenges, “it’s two weeks of your life, what else do you have to do? I think it could be fun.”

The quirk of his eyebrow and quick squint of his eyes grabs your attention. He’s serious about this, scarily serious, and you aren’t quite sure how to react to that.

“What’s in it for you?” Your chin falls into your palm as you stare at him, waiting for his response.

“Well for one,” he starts, a sigh leaving his lips, “if it works then I won’t have to listen to you complain about how much relationships suck anymore.”

Just when you don't think you can roll your eyes any further into the back of your head, your own actions surprise you. If looks could kill, the one you’re giving him right now would surely take him out. He doesn’t pay much mind to it though, he’s used to your sass and just shrugs it off.

“This is an awful idea,” you glare at him as if it will change his mind. You’re certain this experiment of his would not change your own. Love sucked, and that was that.

“Two weeks,” his voice carries a taunting tone, his eyebrows wiggling to entice you into his plan. He isn’t going to give up on this easily, you know Jisung. And Jisung always gets his way.

“Fine,” you huff, “two weeks and that’s it. And if my mind isn’t changed you owe me 3 more of these,” you say, picking up your boba from the table and shaking it at eye-level for emphasis.

His bottom lip catches between his teeth, satisfied with your response. He isn’t exactly sure how he’ll manage to pull this off, but he’s definitely up for the challenge.

“We start tomorrow at 8, I’ll pick you up after work.”

Crossing your arms over the table, you bury your head in your arms. This is going to be the most interesting two weeks of your entire life.

“Wait, you're like dating dating the Han Jisung?” Felix’s jaw drops, excitement prevalent on his face as you spill about your night with Jisung.

Felix is the only person in your life that understood your hatred for relationships, other than Jisung of course. Not that he shares the hatred himself, he’s just heard enough about how much you despise being in one to know just how you felt. He’s only heard about it every day for the past several summers.

Felix is your best friend, other than Jisung of course. He’s also the only person in this world that you could bear to work with on a Saturday morning. 

“That's the plan,” you sigh fiddling with the containers on the counter. It’s pretty slow for a Saturday morning, only a handful of customers have come in so far and it's already 11 am.

That’s the thing about working at a coffee shop – and it sucks when it's busy, and it sucks even more when it's slow. At least it isn't a terrible job, you at least have Jisung and Felix to keep you company and that's always worthwhile.

“And for the record,” you turn to look at Felix, a grin still evident on his face, “I don’t think this is gonna change my mind about the love stuff.”

“You know how Jisung is,” his eyebrow lifts, “so you never know. Maybe something could happen.” 

If anyone was surprised that you were dating someone, fake relationship or not, it would be Felix. On top of that, you’re dating Han Jisung. As in, the same Jisung that ended a 3-month relationship last year because the girl ‘smelled too much like peaches’ and it was ‘too good to be true.’ And now that you’re the one stuck with him for the next 14 days, it is only a matter of time until he finds the deal-breaking trait that turns him away from you.

“Okay no, that's exactly why this is only two weeks. If I know Jisung, he’ll be over it before the 2 weeks even ends.”

“Whatever you say,” the pitch of his voice is raised teasingly. You can tell he doesn’t believe this will be just a ‘two-week thing’ by the funny little look on his face. You hate that look, and you hate how Felix always seems to be right.

Subsequently Felix sees a lot of things that you aren’t able to see for yourself. You’ve grown up with Jisung, grown accustomed to his unique mannerisms and behaviors without even noticing. Felix, on the other hand, has a different point of view. 

He’s not in it like you are, so gets to see the way Jisung looks at you; the way he hangs on each and every word that leaves your mouth with a sparkle in his eye. He notices that Jisung longs to make you laugh. And he watches the toothy grin each that grows on your face each time a chuckle breaks through your lips. Felix notices every behavior that you see as nothing more than ‘friendly.’ But who is he to say? So, for now, the information remains tucked away and stored in his mind for a later date.

Your fingers drum on the clean marble countertop beside you, leaning against it as you wait for a customer to come in. All this time with nothing to do is really doing wonders for your imagination; thinking about what Jisung has planned for the two of you to do tonight. Nothing special, you hope, he really doesn’t need to go all out for this. 

The lack of customers and silence that's fallen among the shop is just making it easier for your mind to wander off. It was beginning to make you sick how much you were thinking about Jisung and nothing has even happened yet. It's not like you have any reason to be nervous, but keeping all these thoughts trapped in your thick skull is starting to give you a headache

“He’s picking me up after work.” You blurt it out without thinking much about it. No one is here, you might as well lay it all out there for Felix to know since there's nothing better to do.

“He’s picking you up? Like you’re going on a date?”

“Shut upppp,” your eyes roll at his teasing nature, growing slightly embarrassed by how giddy the thought of this ‘date’ is making him, and you for that matter. It’s just Jisung. And you are just hanging out like you do every other night. There's nothing different about tonight and you’ll be able to prove that to yourself and Felix by the next time you see him.

The rest of you shift flies by – it always does when you work with Felix. Before you know it, the closing checklist is coming to an end, only a few steps left before you can finally get out of here. The clock had just turned to 7:55 pm, but Jisung still isn’t here. Not that you’re expecting him to be on time or anything, this is still the same Jisung you have always known.

What you aren’t familiar with is the nervous butterflies fluttering around in your tummy as the clock approaches 8 pm.  What are you even nervous about? It isn’t a blind date, other than the fact that you have no idea what you’re doing. And it isn’t even a date. It’s Jisung for crying out loud.

Speaking of the devil, the chimes in the front of the shop ring as Jisung passes through the doorway. You don’t see who it is at first, your back turns to the door as you sweep behind the counter. The chimes ringing at this time of night do trigger your fight or flight instincts though, ready to turn to whoever is approaching and give them a dirty look for coming in this close to closing time.

But once you turn around and see Jisung standing in the doorway with a bouquet of sunflowers, your tension quickly subsides. You swear that you can feel your heart skip a beat, heat rising to your cheeks as you try your hardest to form a coherent sentence. It's okay that you aren’t able to, though, the surprised look on your face is enough for his smile to light up the room.

“I’m here to pick up the pretty girl with the espresso stain on her shirt,” he chuckles, his bottom lip catching between his teeth nervously.

Tonight he’s dressed a lot nicer than usual comfy attire; a nice shirt with a pair of dark jeans that hug his slim figure. His hair is a lot lighter too – a vast change from the midnight black strands that normally frame his face. He’s really going all out for this thing – and right now all that you’re wearing a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt with coffee stains down the front.

When you look to your right, Felix is just as stunned as you are. Frozen in his spot as his jaw practically sweeps the floor, he looks at you with wide eyes, his eyebrows raised as a smug expression crosses his face. For a second you contemplate asking him if he’s all set to finish the closing checklist on his own, but before you’re able to speak up he’s already shooing the two of you out the door.

With a goofy grin displayed across his face, Jisung hands you the bundle of flowers, tied together with a delicate white ribbon. You mumble a thank you, still stunned that he showed up here looking like that to take you out tonight. So he is the romantic type, note taken.

“You like nice,” you gulp nervously. It already feels like a date and you haven’t even left the parking lot yet. If this is how things are going to start you had an exciting 13 more days ahead of you...

“So do you,” he smirks, his eyes wandering down to the small brown stains littering your shirt. Eyes narrowing, you read the expression crossing his face – of course, he’s joking. “I brought you some fresh clothes to change into don’t worry.”

Relief rushes through your body as the words leave his lips, followed by a slight pull on your heart strings. Knowing he took the time to think about bringing you something else to wear so you didn’t have to sit in your coffee scented clothes all night made you feel warm in the strangest way. He’s thoughtful, and it's weirding you out – but in a good way.

“So, where are we even going?”

“You’ll see.”

A vague yet interesting, and very on-brand response from Jisung. He’s always been a fan of surprises – as long as he’s not on the receiving end.

The drive to your destination drags on forever. You aren’t quite sure how long you’ve been on your way; between your agile back seat changing of clothes, which you are surprisingly skilled at, and the anticipation coursing through your veins, you’ve lost track of time. All you know is that you’ve been driving along the backroads of your area for at least 15 minutes, and there is nothing around you to indicate that your destination is near.

“This is it.” The car pulls into a small dirt parking lot, dimly lit by some dingy street lights that aren’t doing a very good job at their primary function. It's pretty hard to see what’s around you, no matter how hard you squint and press your forehead to the window to get a better look.

“Where are we?” The question leaves your lips in a worried fashion. Trees surround the parking lot on all three-sides, while the road you've pulled in from occupies the fourth-side. You’re hesitant to get out of the car, but as Jisung rounds the front and opens the door for you, you’re on your way out. He motions for you to hold on as he pops the trunk – returning with a blanket and a reusable shopping bag filled with god knows what.

He still hasn’t given an answer to your question though, and you still aren’t quite sure where you are. If It was lighter out you assume it would be beautiful here, all the greenery dark and shadows hovering over you from the trees.

The bright light from his cell phone flashlight lights up the way, a path on your right

“Hell no,” your arms cross over your chest as you stand still in your place. He’s out of his mind if he thinks you’re going into the woods this late at night. You’ve seen enough horror films, stuff like this never ends well.

“C’mon, it’s not as bad as it looks,” Jisung laughs at your pouting manner, amusement filling his system as you glue your feet to the ground of the parking lot. His puppy dog eyes plead for you to follow him, a hand outreaching in your direction for the taking. You contemplate it for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you ponder the possible outcomes of the situation before you.

“Fine,” you huff as you take his hand in yours.

His hand feels different in yours this time. His long fingers lacing between your smaller ones in the perfect fit that you’ve neglected to notice before. You’ve held his hand before, platonically though. This time it’s platonic too though, right? It’s just a date. A platonic date between two friends. Two friends who are dating on a two week trial period. So yes, it is strictly platonic. Right?

The dirt path doesn’t drag on for too long, but the sounds of bugs ticking and twigs breaking beneath your feet is enough to startle you. Every scared and breathy gasp that  leaves your mouth is followed by a small fit of laughter from Jisung. At least one of you is amused.

But the dirt path soon turns rocky, a clearing becoming more and more noticeable as Jisung’s flashlight brightens the way ahead of you. The rows of trees come to an end as the ground flattens, a giant slab of rock lying beneath your feet. Out ahead of you is completely dark, and until you approach the darkness you don’t notice that you’re just a few yards away from the edge of a cliff. A river lies below the edge, the sound of water rushing fills your ears and calms your nerves. It is quiet out here, peaceful and without distraction.

Jisung stands back as you admire the scenery around you – your own phone flashlight now out and panning around to look at the view. It’s beautiful out here, nothing to worry about but the sounds of the water and whatever Jisung is doing behind you…

You couldn’t have zoned out for more than 2 minutes, but once you turn back around to face him a picnic blanket lies on the ground before you. Snacks scatter the extent of the fabric, a few candles placed in the center

“You really went all out for this, huh?” A nervous laugh leaves your lips before you swallow harshly. Never in your life has a guy ever gone all out like this for you. A late-night picnic at a secret location, fixed with all of your favorite snacks and some candles for ambiance.

“Had to,” he smiles, “it’s our first date.”

You join him on the blanket, grabbing for a bag of popcorn as you sit down. Maybe relationships wouldn’t suck so much if all men treated you like this…

But it’s just Jisung. Jisung who already knows all your favorite things to eat. He’s just trying to be convincing – to prove to you that men take you on dates, do nice things. But stuff like this never lasts. Two weeks from now you’ll be going back to the same old Jisung and Y/N friendship that you’ve always had.

The conversation goes on as normal tonight, he doesn’t make any moves (as expected, it’s Jisung) and you enjoy the view and calm atmosphere with your fake but not so fake boyfriend. You stay out on the cliff for a few more hours before he takes you home. Jisung put a lot of effort into making tonight special, and you appreciate him for that. But even after all his effort, you know that real relationships aren’t like this.

Every guy you’ve dated would try to woo you over in the beginning too. They call it the honeymoon stage for a reason. Things are always great in the beginning, lavish gifts and dates, loving gestures. That kind of thing never lasts. Soon the effort runs out, the guy gets bored of putting the work in, and they end up sleeping with your freshman year roommate. Well, at least that's how it is for you.

The bundle of sunflowers Jisung gave to you earlier on in the night sits on the end table next to your bed. Each time you look at them all you can picture is the goofy grin he sported as he stood at the entrance of the coffee shop. It replays in your mind like a movie. How he dressed up all spiffy just to take you out. How he took you to a spot only he knew about, somewhere so off-site and serene that he knew you’d remain uninterrupted. You can’t help but wonder if he’s using the same old tricks on you that he does to other girls though. If he only knew about that place because he’s taken someone there before.

Not that it matters though, you aren’t his real girlfriend. You’re just on a trial period. But for some reason the thought that he might have brought another girl to the same spot before doesn’t sit well with you.

“Sooooo,” Felix teases, letting his chin fall into his palm as he leans on the counter before him, “how was your date with Y/N?”

Jisung chuckles at his nosiness, he’s sure you’ve already told Felix all about it. There are no secrets left between you two. Even sometimes Jisung felt like the odd man out when you’re all together.

“It was good.”

Jisung keeps his answer short, leaving the rest up to his imagination. He isn’t one to kiss and tell – or to not kiss and tell. Keeping his private life all to himself is something he takes pride in, things are just better that way.

“Just good?” Felix challenges, knowing there is much more that he’s leaving out. His eyes narrow as he waits for his response. You haven’t told him anything about last night, not even where you went after he picked you up. Things are radio silent on your end, which left Felix dying to know what actually happened on your ‘date that wasn't a real date.’

Jisung glances back at him, contemplating whether or not he should spill the beans. It would be kind of nice to have someone else to confide in. Especially since it's always you on the receiving end of his secrets; however, this may be the one secret that you don’t know of.

He chews on his bottom lip pensively, if anyone knows what’s on your mind, it would be Felix. Not that Jisung would ever want to pry, there's just no indication of how you feel about last night, or about him. Before Jisung can even open his mouth to speak, a knowing smirk is spread wide across Felix’s face. It’s that kind of look that makes him nervous – he knows something.

“You like her don’t you,” he muses, rubbing his hands together smooths as the words catch in the air. It’s out there now – and it’s obvious. Well, maybe not obvious, but it's clear as day to Felix – and that is more than enough to make Jisung worry.

“I don’t,” Jisung denies the other boy’s claim, his willpower too strong to give in.

“Oh yeah? So why do you self sabotage every one of your relationships then?”

The words catch Jisung off guard; his jaw clenching harshly as an annoyed breath is forced out of his nostrils. He wants to deny the claim once again, but he can’t bring himself to keep brushing off these feelings that have had a grip on him ever since he was young.

Felix is right too. He does sabotage each relationship that comes his way. Jisung goes out of his way to find something wrong with each girl he dates. He can never admit it to himself, but in the back of his mind, he knows that it's the fact that none of those girls are you. None of the girls he’s ever met could ever match up to all that you are. In his mind, you held the perfect score, and no one else had ever come close.

“It’s written all over your face every time you look at her you know.”

There's no way he’s that obvious... Did his feelings show that much whenever he was around you?

“What do you mean?” Jisung clarifies, the small once of hope bearing weight in his chest that Felix will follow up with a ‘just kidding’ or change the subject. Only the silence that falls on the room is enough of a response for Jisung to get the clue. 

“Just please don’t tell her,” he avoids eye contact with the other boy, hand gripping harshly on the countertop as he stares down at the black and white checkered tile. “I just wanted to see if I could change her mind – about the love stuff, you know?”

The second you find out about Jisung’s feelings all bets would be off. There’s no way you’d let your little arrangement continue, not if either of you could end up hurt. And he knows you only agreed to this because there is nothing between you romantically, it was a deal between two friends. The second feelings get involved, everything gets all mushy and confusing, and Jisung can’t lose you.

Felix bears his weight on the counter behind him, leaning comfortably on the cool glass. “Believe me, I want her to be done with that ‘I hate love thing’ just as much as you do,” he sighs, looking around momentarily before he clears his throat. “Want me to be honest?”

“Please.”

“I think you might be the only one who can change her mind.”

Jisung’s heart skips a beat once the words leave Felix’s mouth. Blood rushes to his ears, pumping like a snare drum as he considers his thoughts. His stomach begins to twist as he considers it, almost confused about what Felix means, but not willing to accept it. You only agreed to fake-date him, you still hate love.

A comfortable silence fills the air, Felix watching him as his lips roll between his teeth, deep in thought. Change your mind. The words repeat in Jisungs head like a broken record. That’s what he’s trying to do, all for the right reasons of course. So that you don’t  have to be so miserable about it anymore. 

But behind those selfless reasons are several smaller, selfish ones. He gets to be with you as more than a friend now, and although it’s nothing more than some kind of test run, he can’t help but feel like this can be something more too. It’d be crazy to ignore the feeling he has deep in his chest, and maybe it's a sign not to.

“Like you think…” Jisung gulps, clearing his throat as the words stutter out of his mouth, “I could get her to fall for me?”

The lack of response that Felix gives is ominous, but the raise of his eyebrows and toothy grin forming on his face needs no words to tell. 

If anyone is to change your mind, it’ll be Jisung.

That night Jisung took you to the drive-in movies. To be quite honest, you couldn’t really recall what was playing, some Pixar film with bugs as the main character if you could remember it correctly. You were far too distracted laughing with Jisung, watching as young kids played around on a grassy patch near his car. The giggles that left his lips each time the little girl waved to him were music to your ears. You never noticed how much he loved kids, how good he was with them.

The image of his hands clasped together as he fawned over the little girl, picking dandelions in the grass and racing to place them by your feet was burned into your memory. The boxy grin that graced his face all night long. The way his eyes squinted from his cheeks, pushing up as he smiled so big. The whispers of the word ‘cute’ each time her pigtails bounced while she toddled away.

Missing the movie doesn't disappoint you. If anything, the memories you've saved from tonight are more than enough.

The next night you were unable to go out, the shop was so busy that you were not able to leave until an hour and a half after your shift was supposed to end. Some punk kid dropped a cup of iced coffee on the floor on his way out and decided it would be best to leave it there without cleaning anything up or letting you know. Maybe if it hadn’t been so busy then you would have noticed the spill before it dried up and there were coffee stains stuck to the tile floors.

Naturally, you spent a good 15 minutes trying to mop up all the stickiness on the floor. But to your luck, Jisung is working with you that night. Once all the customers left the shop he hooked his phone up to the speakers, grabbed your hands, and danced you around the shop. Well, it was supposed to be dancing but it probably looked more like Jisung swinging your arms as you attempted to not trip over your own feet.

It makes up for not getting to go out though, and you’d take a night like that over a fancy dinner any chance you got. 

It’s been 12 days since you became Jisung‘s girlfriend, and as the remaining days decreased, so did your hatred for love. Each night he planned something special. The real kicker was the texts that you get once he makes it home from dropping you off every night. A simple ‘I had a great time tonight’ was enough to make your heart swell and heat rise to your cheeks.

And as you notice your hatred for love and relationships leaving you, you notice another feeling enter your system. Or several feelings…

Things are getting just as sticky as the night when two frappuccinos splattered all over the shop floor, whipped cream and all. Spending time with Jisung like this is bringing some things to the surface you didn’t know were buried in the first place.

Every night that you spent with Jisung over the past 12 days allowed you to see him in a new light. You got to see him on a different level than just friends. You got to see what every girl that fawns over Jisung experiences.

Something about your friendship never let you jump past that barrier. You only see him as a dear friend of yours. Nothing more and nothing less. And now the issue is that...you aren’t sure how you’ll ever go back to see him as such.

You like Jisung as more than a friend, that's for sure. And you know because of that things will never be able to go back to the way they once were.

Maybe you're reading too much into it, but your gut is telling you that you aren't the only one feeling this way.

The feeling of butterflies that pound in your stomach each time you meet eyes with him has to be reciprocated. There is just no way you can be feeling this way and he isn’t.

This isn’t like the feelings you’ve caught for any guy before, this is something else. Every night when you go home you lay in bed, staring at your ceiling with a dumb grin on your face as you think about your time together, about him. About the way his black curly hair falls in front of his eyes each time he looks down and how his smile lights up every room he was in.

These things that you were so blind to before can’t escape your thoughts, and it makes you wonder how many times or things you’ve looked over that make you melt, just like you are right now.

But in just 2 days, this trial-boyfriend period will be over, and you’ll have to go back to being just friends. Each day, each hour, each minute that approaches feels heavier and heavier. Anxiety floods your system each time you think about things being over, or that this arrangement you have isn’t even real.

When you think about the growing feelings you have for him, you honestly can't imagine what your life will be like any other way. What it would be like going back to just hanging out here and there. And what it would be like

You can’t even fathom thinking about what it would be like hearing him talk about another girl again. It makes you sick thinking that there's going to be someone after you, because in just 5 days this will be all over, and you’ll go back to being the girl best friend, nothing more.

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking that Jisung has more feelings for you too. But the glimmer in his eyes as his bangs brush out of his eyes and they land on you tells a different story. When he looks at you it feels like you are the only two people on earth. He sees nothing else but you, and the way your eyes sparkle back at him.

Each day you spend with Jisung after that feels like a wrench tightening the screws of your heart. 14 days is just not enough.

“Earth to Y/N,” Felix says waving a hand in your face.

You must have zoned out, for god knows how long.

“Thinking about Jisung?”

“What?” you immediately straighten your posture and brush yourself off before responding, “N-no…I’m just thinking.”

“Right,” the sarcasm drips from his lips, not sparing you any time to save yourself as he turns away, beginning to wipe off the tables in the front.

For personal reasons, you’ve kept Felix out of the loop during this whole “fake-boyfriend Jisung” thing. It’s better if you keep your feelings to yourself until you figure them out. And although it feels really really strange not giving Felix the intel on what’s going on in your life, you know it’s for your own good.

Once you put what is in your head out into the world, you can’t take it back. And what if all these things that you’re feeling is just a part of the honeymoon-phase. If that even existed anyway… But if all these feelings for Jisung are due to him trying to woo you and change your mind, everything will just fade away as things return back to normal. And then you’ll be left loving him in silence while you watch him blow through relationships like a leaf blows through the wind.

Something in you tells you that this isn't the case, but the small shadow of doubt in the back of your mind keeps you from talking to your best friend about it anyway.

The thing is, you don't have to tell Felix for him to know. Every time Jisung picks you up from work to take you out you shine. Your smile spreads so wide he’s afraid your cheeks will tear. The nervous shake of your fingers as you grab for your belongings as you head out the door doesn’t go unnoticed in Felix’s eyes. He knows you too well to look over things like this, he just wanted to wait for you to say something first.

But now that you aren’t, Felix has decided to take matters into his own hands, asking you about it himself.

“Felix,” you start, waiting for his attention before you pull out a stool, sitting down and motioning for him to follow suit. Quickly he does, a questioning but knowing look evident on his face as the stool squeaks under him. “You know how this thing between Jisung and I is just an experiment or whatever?”

He nods in response, his hand quickly falling into his palm as he listens intently to your words.

“I think I messed up.” Your head is buried in your arms, laid over the tabletop in embarrassment.

“What do you mean?”

His question is more for clarification, he wants to hear you say it yourself. Felix knows that you’re gonna tell him that you’ve already caught feelings. He sees it coming from a mile away, you confirming it is just the icing on the cake.

“Don’t make me say it,” you whine, neglecting to pick your head up and look at him. You can feel the grin on his face. You know he's smirking at you right now, doing his best to hold back a laugh. Finally, you over the ‘I hate love and relationships suck’ thing.

“I have no clue what you’re talking about,” he sings, quite obviously teasing you while another deep sigh echoes from your chest. You manage to pick your head up, leaning onto your elbows with your chin caught between your palms as you face him.

“I like him.”

It comes out as a whisper, but Felix hears it loud and clear. If you didn’t know better, you’d assume that the smile on his face can't grow any larger, but it does. He jumps up from his chair in victory, doing a funny dance with his arms whooping in the air to celebrate. You’re confused as to why, but you’re too far in your own thoughts to pay it any mind; your head just sinks back into your arms as your forehead presses against the cold metal table beneath you.

“I knew it,” Felix smiles, his happy dance subsiding as he positions himself back down across from you. “I knew this fake dating thing was gonna work.

“Yeah well it really worked, because now I have feelings for a guy that’s never gonna reciprocate them for me.” Your tone is laced with sarcasm, a disappointing ring sounding off on each of your words. You’re too embarrassed to look at the boy sitting before you, worried that if you do all the emotions you’ve been holding onto for so long will spill over and stain your stone-cold image; one you’ve maintained for far too long.

But Felix is your best friend. The only one that you should be comfortable being vulnerable about your feelings for Jisung with; for some reason all you can’t bring yourself to be. Before you can get a grip on your emotions tears are streaming down your face and falling onto the cold metal surface under you in small puddles. 

A sympathetic sigh leaves Felix’s lips as he tries to gain your attention, “Hey.”

Inhaling deeply, you face him – mascara strewn across your face in black streaks and eyes nearly bloodshot. You’ve held this in for far too long. Only a double would tire you out and exhaust you enough to cry on the clock. Thank god it’s a rainy day, no customers ever come in on rainy days.

Or at least, no customers usually come in on rainy days. It's not until you hear the bells on the front door ring that you’re wiping your eyes, whipping around to greet whoever was entering.

And then you see him, standing there as he shakes out his umbrella, a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand.

And he sees you; mascara running down your face and tears staining your cheeks. He’s early. Your stomach turns at the sight of him, emotions not stable enough to handle carry a normal conversation like  

“Y/N,” his voice is quiet, worry dripping in his tone as your name leaves his lips. But you can’t face him right now, not like this.

Your feet move faster than you mind, standing up and rushing to the back to avoid him. Jisung doesn’t follow you, just stands there and watches you walk away, solemn and worried that he’s done something. 

It’s not until Felix is rising from his seat and pacing over to him that he’s brought back to reality.

“Jisung...” he starts, hands coming up slowly to console him, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be here right now.”

“Wh-what’s wrong?” His lip worries between his teeth, eyes glossy as he stares at the door you just closed behind you. He’s looking at it intently, mind flooding with worry, wishing so badly that the door will just fly open, and you’ll tell him what was going on. In the back of his mind, he knows that you won’t, at least not for now. Talking about emotions has never been your strong suit, and chances of that changing at this moment are at an all-time low.

Felix is unsure how to answer him, caught in between not wanting to lie and keeping your feelings private. He can’t speak for you; but he’s scared that saying nothing could just make this whole situation worse.

His mouth gapes as he searches for a response to his question, lips opening and closing while he hums to himself.

The umbrella hanging from Jisung’s hand drops with a crash, starling Felix as he jumps at the sudden sound. But before he is even able to speak, the bell to the front door is ringing again, and Jisung is walking away into the pouring rain.

The next day you wake up feeling numb. You’ve received several texts from Jisung the night before, none of which you have the energy to reply to or even look at for that matter.

The guilt riddling your body has become too much for you to handle. You left work last night without even saying goodbye to Felix. He’s a good enough friend and coworker to know that what you’re going through is more important than working the counter at an coffee shop. 

After Jisung left, Felix came back and let you know; he almost had to break down the door to the backroom in order for you to let him in. He told you to go home, get some rest and that you’d talk tomorrow.

But after waking up the last thing you want to do is talk about Jisung, it hurts enough just thinking about him.

Every time you thought about how your arrangement was supposed to end in just a few days you felt sick. You have worked so hard to open up just to build your walls back up again. And now you’re back at square one.

When you agreed to be Jisung’s girlfriend you did not expect to fall for him like this. He’s Jisung for god’s sake. He’s your personal diary, he’s the one who knows all the shit that nobody else does. And he’s the only one that listens to all the dumb shit you have to say that no one else cares about.

Feelings ruin everything. Love sucks, and you knew this before you agreed. You agreed under the circumstances that Jisung could show you that relationships could be fun; not under the circumstances that he would make you fall in love with him,

And the more that you think about it, maybe you were always in love with him. Maybe you always had these feelings for him, but they were trapped in the tight bonds of friendship that your subconscious never let you out.

But none of that even mattered now. The deal had to be off, and you need to distance yourself from Jisung before you are hurt any worse. The longer this goes on the worse that you are going to feel when it's all over.

How are you supposed to go back to normal after this? Like is Jisung thinking that showing you how amazing relationships are, you won't fall for him or something? Or does his true plan consist of making you fall in love with him, just to string you along like every other girl he's dated?

You’re trapped in the never-ending spiraling thoughts, soiling your image of Jisung with each new theory that crosses your mind. None of them are good. All of them paint him as a player, as someone who just used you.

But the little thump in your heart when you notice the sunflowers placed on your bedside table wants your mind to change. Your heart wants you to believe that Jisung feels something too, that throughout this arrangement he has seen a different side to you too – that he’s fallen for you just like you have for him.

It's a knock at your door that guides you out of your thoughts. The repetitive tapping at your front door that drags you out of bed. And when you check your peephole and it's no one else, but your small blonde best friend standing on your doorstep that has relief rushing through your system.

The door cracks open, Felix standing there with an umbrella in his hand – even though it was nearly 100º with clear skies.

“Why are you still in your pajamas? It's noon.”

Suddenly, he pushes past you and invites himself into to your living room. Plopping down on your couch, Felix makes himself comfortable as he waits for you to join. You spin on your heels, an exhausted breath leaving your mouth as you pace over to him, plopping down on the next cushion over.

“Why the umbrella?” Your brow furrows as he hands it over. You take it though, still confused behind the meaning of the object that you're holding and where it came from.

“It’s Jisung’s.”

You nearly drop it as his name leaves his lips. The name causes your stomach to tighten, mouth-drying instantly as emotions well behind your eyes.

“Why?” Is all you can mutter out. Why was he giving it to you, why is he here, and why did he have it?

“You need to bring it back to him.” He says sternly, his eyes locked on you as he waits for you to look back at him. But you’re too focused on the umbrella placed gently in your hands, tracing your finger over every wire and the soft rubber handle.

“I can’t.” Your words come out in a whisper, breath light and airy as you sigh, sinking your body back into the couch cushions. Giving the umbrella back to Jisung will mean that you have to go see him. And if you see him, he’s going to want to talk to you about last night, then question you about why you haven’t been returning his texts. No. You will not be giving Jisung his umbrella back.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his mouth gently, a sigh following it before he reaches for you, rubbing your arm comfortingly before continuing, “I think you need to talk to him.”

“Felix you know I can’t do that.”

You’re serious in your words. Not that you don’t want to talk to Jisung. You most definitely want to – and if you could, you would. But you can’t. There are too many emotions involved. The wound is fresh and seeing him would be rubbing salt right into it.

“Y/N,” he sighs, this time more forceful, like he’s trying to get something across to you but it's going right over your head. “Talk to him. Please.”

“You know I’m going to end up hurt if I do.” Tears well in your eyes as the words croak from your throat. It's dry and scratchy, full of fear and anxiety.

“I think you’d be surprised,” he mumbles, his eyes instantly widening on realizing the words that just escaped. Eyes wide with confusion, you’re begging him to go on, but if he does then Jisung won’t be the only one in deep shit right now. It's not up to Felix to tell you what he knows this time. 

“What do you mean I’ll be surprised?”

“I have to go,” he stands instantly, motioning to the umbrella, “and you need to bring this back.”

With a slight ruffle to your hair, Felix is giving you a supporting smile and waving goodbye. And you’re left alone once again – just you and Jisung’s blue umbrella.

It takes a lot of courage to get ready today. You make sure to take your sweet time rummaging through your closet, flipping through articles of clothing for the better half of an hour. At the end, you opt to go with a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. There isn't enough energy in your body to put on anything else, and you know you’ll just want to curl back up in bed once you get home. Sweatpants are safe, and safe is just what you need.

No makeup today either. If things are anything like you’re expecting, your makeup will just end up ruined anyway. It's your better judgment to shower though, you’ve neglected to take one after work last night; opting to just bury yourself under your covers as soon as you got back. But today is a new day. And with a fresh shower and your comfiest pair of sweatpants, you are about as ready as you’ll ever be to get your heart broken into a billion pieces. 

Umbrella in hand, you step out onto your front steps, relishing in your last few moments of ignorant bliss before making your way to Jisung’s. You immediately regret your wardrobe decision as the sun beats down on your frame, the humidity making you feel sticky and gross – your favorite pants are  no match for this heat.

But you’re on your way to your destination anyway, the drive feeling longer and more drawn out than normal. Jisung didn’t live that far away from you, but the ride there still felt like an eternity with each theoretical scenario passing your mind. 

Dragging your feet, you make your way to the front steps of his house. You’ve been here a million times, but today is different. From now on, every time you drive past this place all you’ll know is heartache.

You brush yourself off, taking a deep breath before bringing your hand up and pushing the doorbell. The sudden ringing sound startles you, even though you have every indication that it’s coming – you’re just too nervous and jumpy for your own good.

Footsteps approach the door, your stomach tightening more and more with the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps. You’re praying to God that it’s his mom, hoping that Jisung just so happens to be out – even though his car is in plain sight parked just a few meters away from you. Wishful thinking, you suppose.

When the door to his house opens, you struggle to maintain your composure. He’s dressed similarly to you; a pair of sweats and an old sports t-shirt that has definitely seen better days.

“Hi.”

“Hi.”

His eyes are sunken in, dark circles dragging underneath his eyes and his lips pulled downwards. He looks like a sad puppy, his dark hair all scruffy and sticking up in each direction – probably from him running his hands through it so many times. 

“I came to give you this,” you extend the umbrella out before you. He nods before taking hold of it, his hand far at the opposite end making sure not to keep his distance. The more you look at him, the more sorry you feel for dodging his texts. He looks like he hasn’t slept a wink, and you’re afraid it’s all because of you.

“Oh...uh, thanks,” he struggles to make eye contact with you, looking down at the object in his hand. 

It’s awkward, uncomfortable, and you can’t seem to find the words to say to break this strange tension between the two of you. He’s acting weird, shifting his weight back and forth but not moving away to close the door. His mind is racing once again – contemplating whether or not to just invite you in or leave it at that.

But with every aching bone in his body, he musters up the courage to lift his head, looking you directly in the eyes. Their dark like his, definitely from the lack of sleep you had the night before. Your mouth is turned downward too; hands fiddling together to try and distract yourself.

“D-Do you wanna come in?” He stutters, stepping aside slowly as he gestures towards his house. He suddenly worries when you don’t respond right away, taking a second to contemplate if this is a good idea or not. Ripping off the band-aid is never easy, but it needs to be done.

“Sure,” is the word that you decide on – hoping that it doesn’t make you seem disinterested or too desperate to talk. Maybe he’s just being kind though. Maybe it’s an empty offer, something that you say when you’re trying to be nice, but subconsciously hope that they won’t take you up on it. Like when you offer to share your food with someone, but you’re really hungry. You do it to be nice, not because you actually want to split the delicious looking burger and fries on your plate.

He leads you inside and to his bedroom. It looks the same as always, but it feels different. It still smells like him though, the comforting woodsy scent of pine and mahogany that he always reaches for. But that comforting scent is anything but comfortable. You’re frozen in place, unsure if you should sit on his bed and make yourself at home, much like every other time in the past. For now you just stand in the doorframe, waiting for him to tell you to take a seat, just like any polite guest would. A guest. You have never felt like a guest in his home before, or around Jisung in general. But that imaginary wall between the two of you is standing tall and sturdy, and suddenly the two of you are reverted back to being strangers.

You watch as he toys with something on his desk, his fingers dancing from object to object and sifting through papers to look busy. The point of it – unknown to you but to him, he’s buying time. Trying to think of the first thing to say, what to ask, or if you even wanted to talk. Maybe you only agreed to come inside to be nice. Maybe you were too worried about hurting his feelings if you said no. But alas, here you are, standing awkwardly in his doorway as he shuffles around his room, his brain flooding with thoughts – but his mouth can not form them into audible words.

“I’m sorry for ignoring your texts.”

Your voice catches his attention, dropping whatever paper he’s looking at now and turning his gaze to you. You’re sunken into yourself, your chest thumping with anxiety as his eyes begin to wander your frame. Not in a ‘I’m checking you out’ manner though; more of a ‘you look so sad and I don’t know what to say to you right now’ kind of way. 

It’s true though, he doesn’t know what to say – which is why he’s staring at you, hoping the right words would just pop up and he didn’t have to use any brain-power at all. He doesn’t want to say ‘it's okay,’ because it's not. You never ignore his texts, and that alone tells him enough about what's going on. You are upset at him.

“What did I do wrong, Y/N?”

His words sound accusatory but his tone is soft, gentle and full of worry. Eyes swollen and looking like they are about to fill to the brim with tears, his sight is focused on you; now not able to look away.

“I-I don’t know…”

Your answer is honest. You don’t know if his intentions are dirty. Yeah, that’s what you thought initially, but looking at him with such hurt written all over his face tells a different story. 

Jisung is silent, unsure of what more he can do or say to make you talk to him. He can’t force you to open up, he never has and he never will – that’s always been his rule. Everything you’ve shared with him has been on your own terms and conditions. Jisung has always been here to be your listening ear, but he never prys.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

His voice is soft, eyes full of sympathy as he holds himself together. Those were the words he has been looking for. Now the ball is in your court and you’ll have to be the one leading the conversation. It’s just what he needed to figure this shit out.

“I-I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he sighs as he drops himself down onto the mattress, “I shouldn’t have to say this for you to know it, but you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

You do know that. You really, really do. But this time things are different. Is he expecting you to just come out and speak your truth like there won’t be consequences? No, he won’t push you to tell him anything you don’t want to. But the worry in his eyes and clammy hands are begging for you to just let it out so he can stop being in the dark.

You sigh out an ‘okay’ before sitting down beside him. 

Rip the band-aid off Y/N. Quick and painless.

His eyes narrow, almost to a squint, staring right through you in hopes of reading your thoughts. Your expression is nothing but blank as you try your best to gain some sort of composure. Do you just speak up and spill your guts? The words replay in your mind over and over until your thoughts are beat down and misshapen. 

You can picture his face when you say it; disgusted with a trace of disappointment and some confusion spread into the mix. Or maybe he’ll laugh at how pathetic you were, catching feelings for your fake boyfriend.

That’s it. There’s no way you can tell him. It would be much easier to just get up and leave. Tell him to pretend like none of this ever happened and that you needed some time to cool off. A few months maybe, or maybe you could just ghost him entirely. 

“Y/N?”

The sound of his voice breaks you out of your toxic thoughts, and his chocolate brown eyes bring you back down to earth. You can’t just leave him in the dust. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing that exists. Things will be okay, right?

“Sorry, sorry,” you exhale deeply as you calm your thoughts; shifting the nasty scenarios out and accepting that whatever happens after this conversation is your fate. 

“Jisung, I-I guess I wasn’t expecting this boyfriend-girlfriend thing we’re doing to go like this.”

His brow quirks at your words, confusion riddling his expression as his eyes narrow. With a tilt of his head, he’s pushing you to continue, visibly riddled with your choice of words.

“Swear you’ll be honest when I ask you this?” You question him, your hand moving closer to his as you lean in slightly. He’s like a magnet, you can’t help yourself from moving closer; even though the proximity of the two of you is clouding your thoughts and you can feel your heart beginning to swell.

He nods in response to your question, his eyes full of concern as he waits for you to continue, “Why did you ask me to do this thing?”

He knows that a question like this was coming, only if he could have prepared for it. But he didn’t, so his throat is left dry and scratchy as his mouth opens, only to stutter a bit before closing it back up. No coherent thoughts or words are able to escape his lips, just nonsense mumbling that caught himself off guard.

With a deep breath, he closes his eyes, regaining his composure before he can face you again. He agreed to be honest, and if honesty is what you want, honesty is that you’ll get.

“I’m sorry.” That’s all that he can say. 

Oh no. This is exactly what you were expecting before you came here. He’s gonna tell you that he didn’t mean to mess with your emotions, that he felt you catching feelings and got carried away. That he’s sorry that he ruined your friendship and played you like a violin all at once.

“Me too.”

You don’t know why you’re apologizing, but you are. It feels wrong. Absolutely utterly, and undoubtedly wrong. Apologizing for your own feelings is not something that you are okay with. Especially when he made you fall for him like this. Okay so maybe thinking that is giving him too much power, but who the hell takes you out on dates for nearly 2 weeks straight just to laugh about it later. How can he expect you to not catch feelings for him? With his deep voice and fluffy hair that always hangs in front of his eyes, that little giggle he has when he finds something amusing. Everything about him was attractive. And you’ve fallen for it all. Hard.

“Wait, why are you sorry?”

A scoff escapes your mouth unintentionally, but it’s well deserved. “For being the idiot to fall for a guy that was playing her, I guess.”

You can’t look at him any longer, so your eyes fall to your lap, staring at your chipped nail polish and dirty fingernails instead of reading whatever dumb expression he has now. But if you just took a second to look up, you’d notice the widening of his eyes, how his fingers are beginning to shake and his mouth gape. 

“Wh-What?”

“Don’t make me say it again Jisung, I don’t feel like sounding stupid one more time.”

“No no I heard you, it's just,” his eyes slam shut, angry at himself that he let things get this far without keeping you in the loop. 

You’ve been telling him that you hate love for years now. After hearing it so many times, he’d just given up on the thought of you. Maybe if he said something before you went through all those shitty guys things could have been different. But he’s let this go on for far too long, and now you’re the one that was paying the price. 

“Y/N I have feelings for you.”

Your neck nearly breaks with how fast your head snaps up. He’s the one looking away now, his cheeks a bit rosy as he tries to hide himself. He isn’t doing a very good job though, his hair is only shadowing his eyes and you can clearly see the way he’s nervously chewing on his lip; a cute habit you have grown fond of these past couple of weeks.

If he didn’t look like he does right now, you’d assume he was messing around. But you know Jisung. You know his small little gestures and what they mean by now. You know when he’s being serious and when he’s telling a lie. He can look someone dead in the eye and lie to them, but when he tells the truth, he becomes shy and worried that he’s said the wrong thing. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask softly, gently reaching for his hand. The subtle contact makes him flinch, reacting by pulling your hand away. But his eyes meet your sympathetic ones, sparkling just like they always do, and he knows what he wants.

Jisung’s hand reaches back for yours, lacing his fingers through yours before giving your hand a light squeeze. “You hate relationships,” he chuckles lightly, the mood of the room instantly shifting as the laughter leaves his lips. 

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you,” you correct him, but your voice comes across as just a whisper. He’s close enough to hear though, a blushing grin forming on his face as you shyly look away. His heart flutters when he hears it, a million butterflies erupting in his tummy all at once.

“I hated the ones that weren’t with you too,” he coos, his eyes wide and sparkling as he looks at you with such adoration. 

Time moves in slow motion as his hand meets your cheek, your eyes look deeply into his chocolate ones as he moves in closer. As your eyelids flutter shut his tongue runs across his bottom lip, wetting the surface before closing the distance between you. Finally.

And in that moment you’re at peace. Everything you thought you’ve ever hated, love, relationships, and maybe Jisung for a hot second, are the only things that you long for. The 14 days don’t have to be over, and your days no longer have to be counted. When you’re with Jisung you’re happy, you’re comfortable, and you're confident that he can give you what you have always deserved – but have never gotten. 

His lips move against yours in slow, languid motions, his large hands holding you close like he’s holding on for dear life. But you won’t leave even if you want to, not now, not after all this. 

Slowly, Jisung shifts his weight and you move in succession. He’s laying you down on his bed, gently climbing over you without breaking the kiss. Things are becoming more heated now, you can feel it as his hungry lips devour your own. Your chest heaves up to meet his, your back arching off the mattress as his hands begin to scour your body. The heat pooling in between your legs is growing, an aching sensation overwhelming your core as your own hands reach up to rake through his long, fluffy hair. And you can tell he wants you too, the thin fabric of his sweatpants doing little to conceal the growing erection pressing against your thigh. 

You can’t help but let out a steep moan as his hips begin to grind into yours. Needy groans fall past his lips and onto yours as you roll your hips upwards to meet his small ruts. 

In a leisurely motion, Jisung’s body is moving upwards, his knee finding a place between your legs as he brings himself up to a kneeling position. You chase his lips the entire way there, sitting up straight to be sure the contact doesn’t vanish, too consumed by your need for him to leave his lips.

And then his needy hands are running along the waistband of your sweats, fiddling with the tie before breaking your heated kiss. “Is this okay?” His words come out in a whisper, his eyes searching yours for any signs of doubt, but all he sees is lust.

“Yes,” you confirm, out of breath from making-out for so long without coming up for air. The lightheaded feeling taking over you goes unnoticed though, and quite frankly you’re too caught up in Jisung to care.

Quickly, he rids you of your pants, looking back up at you for confirmation about your underwear. With an affirmative nod he’s removing those too, leaving you completely bare from the waist down as he stands over you fully clothed.

But soon he’s ridding himself of his own clothing, his shirt being pulled at the nape of his neck as he discards it across the room. He’s leaning back down to you, hungry for the feeling of your lips. He misses it, even though it's been less than a minute since he’s last felt your smooth lips on his. 

You won’t open your eyes to see, but with the shuffling movements and shaky connection between your mouths you can tell Jisung is stripping himself of any remaining clothing he has on. He’s needy, unable to wait any longer to get down to business, he’s already waited long enough.

You’re the one who breaks the kiss this time, too curious to see what he’s sporting down below for your own good. But you are not disappointed once you see it – he’s long and girthy; the pigment a shade or two darker from his skin tone than the rest of his body.  Your thoughts are wandering, wondering what it's like to have him inside of you; dreaming about what he feels like. Arousal pools at your core, mouth salivating as your daydreams linger.

“Like what you see?” Jisung chuckles. You barely notice that you’ve been staring, eyes wide and focused on the hardened dick before you, which is probably a bit uncomfortable for him. 

“Sorry!” You cringe at yourself lightly, covering your eyes in embarrassment in fear that you just ruined the mood you’ve worked too hard to create.

“Don’t apologise,” he smiles as he grabs your wrists, moving them away from your round eyes. Scrunching your nose in displeasure, you catch your lip in between your teeth, mentally face palming at how weird you’re being.

He couldn’t blame you though, it was taking everything in him not to gawk at you. It was the first time you’ve seen eachother naked. Bathing suits did little for your imagination, not that you had even thought about Jisung this way before.

But he eases your nerves by coming down face level with you, reaching for your shirt and pulling it up over your head. You look at him with wide eyes, taking in each part of him as he caresses your body gently. He’s in awe of you like this. So relieved that you’re finally his, that he has you like this.

Nimble fingers dance down your body, landing at your core as he runs one up your slit, collecting your arousal on his fingertip. An impressed smirk grows slowly on his face, “I can’t believe you’re this wet already,” he hums. “All for me.” 

His eyes remain focused on your center, devouring it with his eyes as his hands hold steady on your thighs. You can’t help but grow slightly embarrassed, dripping with arousal so early on though he’s barely touched you. A lump forms in your throat causing you to swallow thickly – this doesn’t go unnoticed by Jisung.

A concerned expression crosses his face, brow furrowing as he moves his hands upward to settle on your waist. “Hey,” his voice is soft, gentle and full of worry, “everything okay?” 

“Just nervous,” you answer, a fake smile showing on your face to try and combat your own emotions.

It is no secret that Jisung is a bit more experienced than you are in bed. He knows that, you know that, and that is enough to turn you into a nervous wreck. Leave it to your own thoughts to ruin the moment.

“We don’t have to…”

“No!” Your voice comes out a little too eager, a bit loud, shocking Jisung. His eyes widen in response, body jolting from the impact of your tone. “No,” you say more gently this time, “I want to.”

You did want to – you just have to get over your own nerves first. Lucily, Jisung didn’t mind and was willing to guide you through it.

With a reassuring smile plastered across his face, he laces his fingers through yours. As you lock eyes, you nod him onward, giving him the go-ahead to continue. He moves languidly, his fingers moving back down to trace your slit once more. The sensation makes you tense, the nerves tingling through your body making it difficult for you to calm down. 

But with a reassuring squeeze of his hand to yours, you’re taking a deep breath. Closing your eyes as you lie your head backwards onto his pillowcase. The smell of him consumes you, relaxing you effectively as his fingers meet the entrance of your core.

Shivers run through your body as he dips one finger inside. Your arousal acts as a natural lube, letting his finger glide gracefully into you. You gasp at the sensation, eyes rolling back into your head as he begins caressing your walls. His finger moves swiftly in and out of your core, his other hand still locked with yours to guide you through.

With your body finally relaxing, Jisung is able to add another finger into the mix. The extra pressure makes you shudder for a moment, taking a little to adjust to the greater size inside of you. Thankfully the mild discomfort subsides, and he’s able to pump his fingers in and out once more. 

He’s making sure to watch each of your expressions, growing harder and harder just from watching your face contort in bliss. With each of his movements you bite down harder onto your lip, focusing on him and him only. 

“You’re doing so well,” he praises as his thumb rubs circles over your hand soothing you. You can feel your heart swell at his words, heat beginning to rise to your cheeks. 

In one swift motion, Jisung begins to separate his fingers, stretching your walls as his digits move in scissor-like motions inside you. “Fuck,” you mumble, hips jutting forward in reaction. 

A steep moan leaving your lips as he brings his fingers back together, just to extend them once more. Your body is quickly getting used to the pressure, begging for more as you roll your hips.

He can sense that you’re eager from your movements alone. With one final squeeze, his hand is leaving yours. The empty feeling in your palm is unpleasant. But once you open your eyes and notice he’s using it to palm himself, his fingers groping around his length and beginning to pump slowly, that empty feeling is replaced with something else. 

Your mouth salivates with desire, hungry for the feeling of him inside of you. He’s aroused you enough, and you’re too eager to feel him for your own good.

“Jisung,” you moan, “fuck me please.”

His cock jumps in reaction to your words, his chest heaving as his breath catches in his throat. Never in his life did he expect to hear those words come out of your mouth – but he wouldn't mind hearing it again.

“Hmm?” He hums, knowing damn well what you said but being greedy enough to pretend that he didn’t. You whine in response, your legs shaking on the bed in a mini temper-tantrum.

“Please,” you drag out, “please fuck me.”

Your words are music to his ears. He removes his fingers from your dripping cunt, grabbing the backs of your knees to pull you closer to him and hike your legs up over his hips.

“Anything for you.”

Complying to your wish, he lines the tip of his cock up with your entrance. The feeling of his smooth head against your core is enough to make you moan, your head thrown back to expose the soft skin of your neck.

Jisung takes this as an opportunity to leave his own mark behind, leaning down to attach his lips to your skin. You gasp as his teeth graze your skin, his plump lips sucking harshly before his tongue is swiping over the area to soothe it. 

But your eyes open once he’s beginning to pull away to look at you. His eyes are dark, full of lust mixed with adoration, a sigh of relief leaving his chest as he gazes down at you under him. There’s a lot going on in his head right now. Of all the emotions swirling around, the thing he’s most focused on is how lucky he is to have you.

And before you know it, he’s leaning down. Pressing a chaste kiss to your lips, making you smile. One more kiss is left on your forehead before he's pulling back, securing the position of your legs on his hips. 

And then he’s realigning himself with your core, pushing past your entrance and slowly descending into the depths of your pussy. He’s moving slowly, taking his time as he thrusts into you. The delicious stretch is unfamiliar, but it's not uncomfortable – like you were made just for him. A simultaneous groan leaves your lips as he bottoms out, the tip of his cock pressing deep into you on a spot that’s gone untouched. 

He hums a sigh of contempt before pulling back, only to rock his hips into you once again. Your velvety walls welcome him delightedly, soft whimpers leaving your lips once he bottoms out again.

“Y/N,” your name leaves his lips in a low grunt, the bones of his pelvis driving into your skin as he begins to pick up his pace. In reaction you clench down on him, orgasm beginning to loom overhead with each movement of his hips.

Desire fills your senses as you roll your hips over to meet his thrusts. His movements are slow and intentional, making sure to bottom out each time to watch you squirm over his dick. He loves how your jaw drops each time his tip presses against your g-spot, knowing just when he hits it each time.

Jisung’s teeth are barred, sweat gathering at his brow as his dark fluffy hair sticks to his face. He’s trying to hold himself back, the overwhelming urge to finish just in reach, but he doesn’t want to stop. So his hands roam your body to try and distract him, his palms caressing up the sides of your torso as your back bridges into him. The feeling of hot breath fans over your face with each sigh he lets out. 

But the tightening knot in your stomach is threatening to snap with every movement of his hips. It's getting harder and harder to hold on with the power of his thrusts growing stronger.

“Jisung,” you whine, “so close” your hands find his back, fingernails dragging down his spine in attempts to ground yourself. Jisung’s face contorts as your nails pierce his skin, leaving lines of red scratches down the length of his posterior.

The stretch from his length and his rhythmic motions sends your senses into overdrive. Squeezing your eyes shut and grasping onto the sheets underneath you, you can taste the brink of your orgasm. Jisung is focused; his grip on your thighs strong and his face contorted with bliss. But all you can think about is how stupid you could have been if you had decided to just cut him out. What matters is that you’re here with him now, and the thought of that is enough to push you over the edge. 

Your breath hitches in your throat, stomach twisting and turning as your pussy throbs repeatedly around his member. Emotions running high, three words almost slip past your lips, but with the small amount of strength you can muster up, you hold them back. Another time, some time that isn't so lust filled like this one.

Jisung’s thrusts are growing sloppy. His grip on your legs tightening as his lip is caught between his teeth. And with just a few quick thrusts, he’s coming undone inside of you. White, hot spurts of cum paint your walls, filling you up and making you feel so unbelievably full. 

You’ve always felt close to Jisung – he knew everything about you and vice versa; but this time was different. The way his hands settled on your legs, bringing them down gently after finishing. How his eyes are becoming so soft as he looks at you, a lazy grin pulling at his lips. You’ve never felt closer to Jisung as you do in the moment. As his body collapses next to yours, pulling you in and holding you close as you recover from your highs, you’re completely at peace.

“Sorry I got carried away, I guess I should have asked if you’re on birth control still,” he laughs, burying his face into the crook of your neck. 

“Don’t worry, I am,” you chuckle alongside him.

Your naked bodies tangle together, his leg weaving its way through yours to be as close to you as possible. He’s intoxicated by you, closing his eyes as he rests against your body in complete bliss. Now that he has you this close he never wants to let go; and neither do you.

“Can I tell you something?” His voice is soft, whisper like but still holding confidence; his tone never falters.

“Anything.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

Butterflies erupt in your tummy, your heart thudding in your chest as heat rises to your cheeks. He loves you. It's not that friendship kind of love anymore; it's the relationship kind. The same kind that makes your heart skip a beat and body riddle with every emotion in the book. The kind that keeps you up all night thinking about – but also helps you fall asleep, knowing he’ll be there in the morning.

And all of a sudden it seems so stupid that you were fighting those words back in the heat of the moment just a few minutes ago. He felt it too, you always knew that.

“I love you, Jisung.”

Being in love is a dumb concept. All guys suck, relationships are stupid and love is a social construct that you didn’t feel like conforming to. There was absolutely no one that you would waste your time on, until Jisung came around. What you had been looking for your entire life has always been right infront of your eyes – you were just too dumb to see it.

Maybe love is alright, after all.

‘Perfect Score’ is copyright 2020-2021 @chaangbin, all rights reserved. Please do not repost on any platform or translate without permission.

↠ A/N this fic has been rewritten/reconcepted from my previous BTS fic Crush Culture.

[nicka-nell]

Atsumu’s route

≡ Masterlist |  ∇  prev | chapter 66 | next ∆

Pairing: Osamu x reader (main route), Atsumu x reader

Genre: Social Media-AU, text

Warning: mdni, angst 

Scream: 2021/09/06- Monday

Well rested, you open your eyes, look around in the unknown room, when you again realize that you are on vacation. Smiling, you stretch your body before you look to the side and see Atsumu still sleeping next to you.

Without really thinking about it, your hand moves up to his cheek, stroking it gently until Atsumu twitches his face and slowly opens his eyes. You quickly pull your hand back, while your eyes open up wide and get irritated why you just did that.

“What time is it?” Atsumu asks tired as you turn to the side with hot cheeks to check the time on your phone.

“Eh… Six o’clock in the morning.” 

“6am? Damn, seeing your pretty face right after getting up is great, but this early in the morning? Ah, Y/n come here.” He complains before he pulls you to himself and holds you in his arms.

Your pretty face... He always says that to you, so why is your heart beating so much faster now? Why does it feel good and at the same time terrible to lie in his arms, to hear his heartbeat and to feel his breath?

“T-Tsumu what are you doing?”

“Well, what do you think? What does it look like? We’ll sleep for another hour or two and then get up. Okay?” 

“O, okay.” Although you are not tired, it is easy for you to fall asleep in his arms. 

•••

After waking up for the second time, you decide to order breakfast in your room and start the day relaxed with a short tour of the city center. It makes you smile that Atsumu can say something about almost any statue. On one statue, Hinata had once impaled a volleyball, and the boys stood shoulder to shoulder to get the volleyball down again. On the other, Meian had thrown up in a bucket because he had drunk too much, and at a third statue, which is now no longer standing, Bokuto had almost thrown his cell phone out of his hand, because the statue suddenly moved for the selfie with Bokuto. No one could have guessed at night that the statue was a real person dressed and made up like a statue. 

Atsumu tells all this with so much joy that you can’t help but stare at him. He makes you happy with his good mood, lets you forget all that had gnawed at your thoughts before. But suddenly he stops, puts his hands in his pockets and smiles calmly.

“You know, I thought the story of this little work of art was really beautiful back then. An old woman told us about it. Wanna hear it?” Atsumu asks you, as he looks at you from the small Stone Lion’s head anchored in an old wall, and glances at your curious face as you nod.

“People say that when you’re in love, ya really love someone sincerely, the lion’s mouth will close when you put yer finger on its tongue.” He whispers to you, keep watching how you react.

But you just pull up an eyebrow, put your hands against your hips, before you stare at him unbelievably. 

“Yeah sure. As if I would believe it. Do you really think I’m that stupid?” 

You laugh up, but Atsumu grabs you by your shoulders and pushes you to the lion’s head, which is only half a head above you in the wall. 

“It’s true, believe me. For Bokuto it worked too.” He adds, and although you know Atsumu is only trying to tease you, you sigh with a giggle. 

“All right, if you’ll stop annoying me afterwards.” 

Carefully you approach the mouth of this lion head statue with your finger and even though you know absolutely nothing is going to happen, you are still excited. What if this fairy tale is true? What if something actually happens? You ask yourself, and the moment you put your finger on the stone tongue, everything around you becomes silent. 

Are you in love? And if so, are you in love with..

“Tsumu!” You scream loudly when Atsumu grabs you with a loud “Boo!” by the waist and frightens you. He immediately bursts into a roaring laughter, almost having to wipe the tears out of his eyes, at the loud squawk of what you have given. Angrily, you punch him in the chest, tell him how stupid he is, even if your anger is only faked.

“Oh boy! Tsumu! You’re such an dickhead!”

“Haha come on babe. That was so funny.” He laughs, only before he hugs you. You can’t hold your pout for long, you also have to giggle. 

But you both stop laughing almost at the same time, look deep into each other’s eyes and become silent. Atsumu’s dark brown eyes sparkle at you. His look is serious, yet so soft and loving. Was he always this attractive? Again you hear this knocking in your chest, loud in your ears, faster and faster. You take a small step forward. Atsumu does not move when you step closer once again before he can feel your breath on his lips.

“Eh, what do ya say I show you the beach? Where we played volleyball?” He tries to distract you, takes a step back when you hear how nervous and restless his voice is. 

What were you up to? Did you just want to hug him, or were you going to kiss him? You were about to kiss him, weren’t you? Is Akaashi really right? Did you fall in love with Atsumu the whole time? But that would be an absolute taboo. You and Atsumu have always been best friends, nothing more, nothing less.

With a heavy heart, and shaken by your own new knowledge, you just nod, giving him to understand that he should show you the beach.

Taglist: @xmyshya  @boosyboo9206  @alienvarmint  @namyari  @koukamisblog  @zlatanakermann  @bloombb  @tia827  @creepykawass

[wendy130]

That’s not a fish (Part 1)

//Title to story may be subject to change.

// I will be using he/him pronouns for Eret thorough the entirety of this writing. I am aware that he uses all pronouns; this is to make the writing less confusing with other characters.

// Based on an rp I did with a friend. This isn’t an au. There may be a part two for this, but do not ask for one.

// Warnings: description of drowning (no one dies), the ocean

----

"It was a dark and stormy night."

That's how they always started in the stories.

Eret grunted as he marched through people's scurrying forms, all of them busy with throwing the pools of water that threatened to pull the ship down off of the deck.

Damn those stories to hell. He ducked under a few sailors, his eyes darting around, trying to find someone. Why was it always so hard to find the one person you needed?

Normally, he'd be one of the many bailing the water out, but he had other matters to attend to first. From behind his glasses, his eyes locked onto a figure afar.

"Puffy!" he shouted, striding closer to the woman. She turned to face him, wiping water off of her face as she stared at him with a tense form, "what's-"

"Just a normal storm," she interrupted him, shouting loudly. The crashing waves made it hard to speak normally, "be careful around the edges, Eret."

He slowly nodded, a grimace on his face as he ran a hand through his soaking wet hair. He opened his mouth to say something more, but she threw a bucket at him. He caught it with fumbling hands.

"I- Puffy," he tried yelling back to the captain but shouted in surprise as he felt a bigger than usual wave crash into the side of the ship. Both Puffy and him stumbled back, leaning against the railing and tightly holding onto the tiny, wooden beams for support.

The two exchanged alarmed looks before tilting their heads towards the dark waters.

"That seemed... like it was caused by something else," Eret yelled, forgetting his past worries.

Puffy searched the seas with a hidden intent as if she was looking for something. For someone. She frowned deeply and turned towards him,

"Stay away from the edges," she warily shouted, making no comment on his worries.

"What did you see?" Eret inquired, trying to search the waters like the captain had too. She only pulled him back from the shoulder, giving him a stern look.

That look meant that she was done talking.

Eret frowned, sending one last glance back at the churning waters before heading off to help the crew. He bit back a yelp as he felt another wave crash onto the side of the ship.

As he steadied his swaying figure, he glanced around at the abled men, women, and people who barely seemed affected by the harsh conditions.

He supposed it was only normal for them to be so resilient. It was fairly charming to see them all work together.

He also supposed that he'd have to get used to this, both to his dismay and excitement.

Eret pushed himself to help with whatever he could, passing buckets full of sloshing water back and forth between people and helping out with the masts. After only an hour, he was bone-tired, wheezing in exhaustion.

He really did need to step up his game.

Compared to his homeland, it seemed as if the sea's world needed more force than any battle he had fought before.

Eret yelped as a force from behind him pushed him closer to the edge of the boat. He barely had any time to fall back before a heavy bucket was thrown into his hands. He hesitated for a moment before hurling the water out of the bucket and tossing it to the nearest person who beckoned for the container.

He continued on like this for a while, falling into a steady rhythmic pattern before his arms also grew weak with weariness. He recoiled back as his felt his hands slip on the bucket. He fumbled around, barely catching the pail.

Many hands grasped onto him, pulling him back and pulling the bucket out of his hands. He stumbled back to the middle of the ship, one of the crew members giving him a stiff nod.

He staggered back, his reaction timing slow compared to everyone else on the ship. He was barely able to dodge the people barreling around the deck, and he found himself back at the edge of the ship again.

He was about to push himself back to the middle of the deck so he'd be able to take cover under the deck, but a spark of curiosity burned at the back of his mind. With a single shake of his head, he turned to face the waters, looking for any sign of what Puffy may have been looking for.

He gasped as he felt a lurching sensation alongside a scraping pain on his arms. He was hit with a heavy sense of vertigo as he tumbled downwards- why was he tumbling downwards?

His question was quickly answered as he felt a frigid splash of liquid hit him with full force.

The air in his lungs was knocked out as water consumed his weakened state. His throat and nose burned as water forced its way up into them, and he violently coughed, shoving his way back to the surface.

He was only able to take a short breath before a harsh wave crashed into him, sending him back under the water. He forced his way back up, taking another breath before he was pushed under again. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen, and his eyes stung from the salty water surrounding it.

Eret wildly glanced around the water, seeing only black inkiness underneath him. He breached the surface of the water again, helplessly looking for the ship he rode on. He cried out as he saw it already far from him,

"No!" he dazedly gasped, "wai- come back," he fruitlessly called out, flailing his arms around, trying to paddle his way to the ship.

It was pointless. He was in dead waters now.

Eret desperately tried anyways, though, clinging onto the diminishing hope that they'd turn around to find him.

A pit of despair grew in his stomach as he saw the ship grow smaller.

Surely they’d notice, right?

He wouldn’t be stuck and left for dead... right?

He almost choked on another wave that tugged him under the water before he surfaced, coughing.

He had gotten him screwed just because he was curious enough to look for something that didn't exist, hadn’t he?

His mouth dried as he felt the waters around him shift and move unnaturally.

...It didn’t exist..... right?

He shakily glanced down at the murky waters, half expecting to see a giant tentacle shoot out and drag him into the depths of the waters like in the stories.

He saw nothing for a moment, unable to discern anything from the foamy, angry waters, but.... as he stared for longer, he saw a giant dark figure circling him.

The outline vaguely reminded him of a shark tail with extra fins, but it had a different front- as if there was another part attached to the shark.

He shook his head, clearing his mind of any possible imaginary projections of his fears before looking back.

Nothing...

He almost sighed in relief, but, instead, a screech ripped from his throat as another wave crashed down on him. He was forced back under the water, given barely any time to gasp for new air. Thrashing wildly, he burst back up, practically coughing his lungs up as he gasped for air.

The waves had picked up in strength again, making him repeat a tiring process of trying to stay above the water. It was a loosing battle, though. Every time he came up for air, he was pushed under.

His muscles burned from use and lack of air, but he pushed on, clinging onto the threads of life.

 As he was pushed back down again, he kept his eyes open, looking around him for anything. His eyes burned from the salty waters, but he kept them open anyways.

He barely suppressed a gasp of shock as he saw a large shadow from afar.

This wasn’t a projection of his mind, was it?

He surged back to the surface with a newfound fear.

If he didn't die of hypothermia or drowning, he was most definitely going to be the victim of this creature.

That of, he was certain.

He desperately tried keeping an eye on the massive shadow, but it easily blended in with the stormy water, and he lost focus on it.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he trembled, weakly paddling around to keep his head above the liquid around him. 

A sinking feeling grew in his gut as he searched around himself for the creature.

He couldn’t find them from around him, so that meant....

Look down, look down, LOOK DOWN-

His eyes shot to underneath him, only to meet the gaze of two glowing green ones.

By Primes, he was so dead, wasn't he?

[hrina]

1923, Pt. I - The Day

PAIRING: Harry x Reader RATING: PG (for now) WORD COUNT: 7k REQUESTED: nope

hi everyone! here is PART 1 of my historical AU featuring harry as a groundskeeper/farmhand (i know that those two professions are slightly different but just let me have this ok snfjsjfnsdsf)

warning: parts of this fic will contain mature language and nsfw content. if it makes you uncomfortable, you absolutely do not have to read! take care of urselves <3

this series will be composed of three parts altogether, so i hope u all enjoy this first one! as always, please reblog the fics that you like! and don’t hesitate to send in feedback, i promise that we, as writers, always love to witness your reactions :) anywayyyy now that we’ve covered all the bases, go stupid with 1920s harry! can’t wait to hear ur thoughts 💌💌💌

~*~

    July 5th, 1923

“What if he comes back with a beard that goes all the way down to his knees?”

You snort and shake your head. “He’s only been gone for a few months, Dee. I don’t think it’s possible for one’s whiskers to grow that quickly.”

Lydia shrugs, toying with the hem of her pale blue dress. “What if he met an evil witch in New York who cast a spell on him? And now he’s doomed to live out the rest of his life with horrifying facial hair!”

A laugh bubbles up in your throat. I don’t think that there are any witches in New York, you want to say, but you keep your mouth shut. Believing in magic is an integral part of childhood—you don’t want to be the one who takes that away from her. Soon enough, she’ll figure it out for herself.

You wind an elastic around your fingers, securing the end of her braid so that it doesn’t unravel. “That’s one,” you say, sighing quietly. “Turn to the side so that I can start on the other.”

She obeys, angling her head to the left. You gather her dark curls in a loose fist, skimming your nails against her scalp to collect every last strand.

Her hair has grown hot, absorbing the heat of the sun. It’s a beautiful day—there isn’t a single cloud in the sky. The two of you are sitting on the front steps of your home, looking out over the paved circular driveway and waiting excitedly for Andrew’s car to pull up to the iron gate. Realistically, you know that he won’t be here for at least another few hours, but Lydia insisted that you unwind outside to pass the time.

Somehow, she persuaded you to fashion her hair into twin braids. And though you had groaned at the initial request, here you are.

“He’s bringing a friend, you know,” your sister suddenly pipes up. “He told me in his letter.”

“Oh, really,” you say wryly. “And who exactly is this friend of his?”

“Martin Russell,” Lydia says, as though she’s reciting lines for a play. “He graduated from Harvard and then built his own company with nothing but a nickel to his name. Drew says that they’re trying to merge and become an empire.”

“An empire,” you echo, humouring her. “That sounds awfully intimidating, don’t you think?”

“Not to me,” she boasts, lacing her fingers together in her lap and squaring her shoulders. “Drew told me that I’m a businesswoman in the making.”

“That, you are,” you agree. You tie your remaining elastic around her second braid, fastening it in place. “All done.”

Lydia jumps to her feet, tugging down the material of her dress and turning to face you. She strikes a pose, placing one hand on her waist and lifting the other above her head. “How do I look?”

“Stunning,” you say, smiling up at her softly. “You’re the prettiest little girl I’ve ever seen.”

At that, she frowns.

“I’m not little!” she protests, crossing her arms over her chest. “I’m thirteen and a half!”

“That’s little,” you say, laughing quietly. “Trust me. Once you get to my age, you’ll understand.”

“I’d rather be little than ancient,” she shoots back, sticking her tongue out good-naturedly. You scoff, bringing your fingers up to your forehead so that you can shield your eyes from the sun.

“Twenty-three is not ancient!” you say, baffled.

Lydia just giggles, twirling around a few times and watching the skirt of her dress fan out handsomely. Once she looks up, however, she freezes in her tracks. Your eyebrows knit together as she extends her arm in a frantic wave.

“Hi, Harry!”

You stiffen, reflexively following her gaze.

Harry is about thirty feet from the steps, crossing the driveway with a heavy bag of soil slung over his shoulder. In his other hand, he’s carrying a bucket filled with rusted gardening tools. You had been so caught up in your conversation with your sister that you failed to notice him. He’s making his way toward the pretty garden that separates the entry and exit of the driveway, tucked between the two strips of road and outlined with smooth grey stones.

You swallow forcefully when he pauses at the sound of Lydia’s voice. He turns, and you get a full view of his broad chest, tanned skin peeking out from underneath his white shirt. Brown trousers cover his legs, held up by matching suspenders. His black boots are speckled with dried mud—you guess that he’s just come from the stables in the back.

Upon catching sight of your sister, he smiles and begins to walk over. You shift quickly, trying to focus on something—anything—else.

“Good afternoon, little bug.” Harry’s tone is deep, slow, rough. It sends a shiver down your spine. “You alright?”

“Very much so,” Lydia replies, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “Harry, how old are you?”

“Twenty-seven,” he replies.

Your sister glances over at you, her brows arched high on her forehead. “He’s practically primeval.”

“Dee!” Her name leaves your lips as an admonishment, but you can’t stifle your laugh.

She just giggles and turns back to Harry; he’s smirking slightly, watching your interaction unfold. “Are you going to be planting more roses?” Lydia asks, changing the subject.

“Yes.” He nods. He sets the bucket down and uses his free hand to realign the bag of soil on his shoulder. “Would you like to help?”

Lydia spins around to face you, her eyes wide and pleading. “Can I? Pretty please?”

“You’re supposed to take Artemis out for a ride,” you tell her, pursing your lips. “You know how antsy she gets when she’s cooped up all day.”

“Can’t you take her out?” Lydia asks, clasping her fingers together and bringing them up to her chest.

“Dee,” you start, shaking your head, “you know I don’t—I couldn’t possibly—”

“Harry,” she says suddenly, glancing down at him from over her shoulder. “Have you been in the stables today? Did you see Artemis?”

Harry hums dutifully. His eyes fall to you—you look away.

“And did she seem anxious at all?” Lydia presses expectantly, placing her hands on her hips.

He hesitates. “Well…no. But if you need to take her out, please do. I’m perfectly capable of planting by myself.”

“Nonsense,” she says, waving away his words. She turns back to you, jutting her bottom lip out into an imploring pout. “Can’t you ask someone else to do it? What about Penelope? Or Beth?”

“Beth’s preparing lunch,” you say, scoffing quietly. “Besides, she refuses to work in a messy environment. What makes you think that she’ll willingly go down to the stables, of all places?”

Lydia frowns, blowing out an annoyed sigh.

“Fine,” she acquiesces at last, rolling her eyes. She spins around, hopping down the remaining steps and fixing Harry with an accusatory glare. “I’ll be back in thirty minutes! Don’t you dare start without me!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, little bug,” he replies, his lips twitching. You watch as Lydia takes off, her braids whipping in the wind as she sprints toward the side of the house. Once she disappears around the corner and out of your sight, you press your palms to your face, sighing loudly.

“She’s too much,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. Harry chuckles quietly from the bottom of the stairs; you freeze suddenly, remembering that he’s still there.

“I should—” You clear your throat, climbing to your feet. The light material of your dress tickles the skin just below your knees. “I should probably go. There’s still so much to do before Drew returns.”

You’re lying, of course. But he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sure there is.” Harry nods, running his fingers through his hair. The dark strands curl beautifully behind his ears. You allow yourself to study them for only a moment before diverting your gaze up to the sky.

“It’s hot—are you thirsty?” you ask, squinted eyes trained on miles of cerulean blue. “I can get Beth to bring you some water, if you’d like.”

“That’d be lovely,” he says. “Thank you.”

You simply hum in response. Your hands are abnormally clammy when you wipe them across the thin petticoat covering your thighs.

“Right,” you say, chancing a glance back down at him. “Well…have a nice day.”

“You too, miss.”

You pause, fiddling with the satin bow tied at the small of your back. “You—you don’t have to call me that, Harry,” you remind him, shaking your head. “How many times must I tell you?”

“My apologies,” he says, shrugging. “Force of habit.”

“It’s alright,” you say, intent on avoiding his gaze. “It just—it makes me feel as though I’m your—your—”

You break off, uncertain of how to proceed. Thankfully, though, Harry seems to understand. He chuckles softly, bowing his chin in agreement. “I know.”

Embarrassment festers in your chest, creeping up your neck and settling into your cheeks. You straighten, swallowing down the hard lump in your throat and retreating toward the door. “Lydia will be back soon, I’m sure. Good day.”

When Harry lifts his head again, his green eyes teem with an emotion that is somehow unrecognizable yet familiar all at once. The gruff timbre of his response makes your stomach churn nervously, flipping your breakfast of fresh fruits and toast. You hate it more than anything else in the world.

You don’t hate him, though.

No…you could never hate him.

“Good day, miss. Ah, I mean—” His face collapses into a grimace. He grunts at the thoughtless error, shaking his head. “—good day.”

~*~

It’s just past three in the afternoon when a car horn honks from outside. Lydia’s shrill squeal of excitement follows soon thereafter.

“Drew!” she cries. She rushes into the front foyer, white shoes squeaking against the polished floor. The bottom of her dress is dotted with faded spots of mud, a testament to her time spent in the garden earlier today.

“Dee,” you scold her, frowning. “I told you to change once you had finished planting.”

“Sorry!” she says, though her tone suggests that she isn’t sorry at all—not in the slightest. “Got distracted!”

She grabs your hand, and you yelp when she gives a mighty tug, towing you outside. You dust off the skirt of your dress, tucking your hair behind your ears and staring at the iron gate in the distance—it’s closing back up, metal spines glinting alluringly in the sunlight. On one side of the driveway, a bright red car rolls along the pavement, tires bumping merrily against the ground. Two silhouettes sit in the front; the man behind the wheel honks the horn again and extends his arm through the window, sweeping it upward in a triumphant greeting.

“Drew!” Lydia repeats. She charges down the front steps, her hands outstretched.

“Be careful!” you call after her, gnawing anxiously on your bottom lip.

The sun is still high in the sky. You crane your neck, surveying your surroundings. Heat rises from the driveway in murky waves, blurring the scenery. The large portico that spans nearly the entire width of your home is lined with bushels of potted plants—roses and peonies and daffodils. The lawn is bright and healthy, spearmint-green grass trimmed to perfection.

Something shifts in the periphery of your vision. Your head snaps to the left.

Harry is there, leaning against the corner of the house. He’s still sporting the same outfit as before, except it’s even more sullied, now. You’re not surprised. Gardening is grubby work, but gardening with Lydia…it’s a miracle that he’s not caked in mud, soiled from head to toe.

On cue, Harry reaches for a dirty rag dangling over his shoulder. He grasps the material with strong fingers, lifting it to his face and wiping down his forehead and his cheeks. You watch him closely, fascinated by the thin sheen of sweat sparkling on his skin.

As though sensing your stare, his eyes dart over, locking squarely with yours.

A soft gasp falls from your lips. You clench your jaw, incontrovertibly caught, and quickly look away.

As soon as Andrew steps out of the car, Lydia launches herself into his arms. He laughs gleefully, catching her with ease and spinning her around. He’s dressed in a cream-coloured suit, the collar of his periwinkle button-up peeking out beneath the lapels. His loafers are shiny and brown; a matching hat is perched atop his head, hiding his dark hair from view. The cap makes his ears stick out even more than usual—upon realising this, you smile.

“Look at how much you’ve grown!” Andrew grunts, setting Lydia back down on the ground. He puts his hand next to her shoulder, as though measuring her against an invisible wall. “The last time I saw you, I could’ve sworn you were only this tall.”

She beams before standing on her tiptoes and poking at his chest. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be gone for so long next time!”

“Touché,” he chuckles, nodding in assent. His fingers find the ends of her braids, fiddling with them absentmindedly. “And who’s responsible for these pretty things, hm?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question,” you interject, making your way down the steps.

Andrew looks up at you and grins widely. You hold out your arms as you approach, and he accepts your invitation with a happy call of your name. He’s tall—a few inches over six feet, if you had to guess. You hug him tightly, burying your face into his shoulder and flattening your palms against his back.

“You look very handsome,” you tell him when you break apart. “I like this colour on you.”

He laughs sheepishly, scratching the nape of his neck. “Do you? I was on the fence about it, truthfully.”

“You shouldn’t have been—it looks good,” you assure him, smoothing your knuckles over his collar. “What took you so long? You’re late.”

“Stopped off at the cemetery to visit mum and dad,” he explains. “Changed their flowers, too—calla lilies, this time.”

You nod grimly, pursing your lips. “Mum’s favourite. Excellent choice.”

One of the car’s doors slams shut; the noise pulls your attention away from your brother. You peer past him, eyes landing on the man who has just exited the passenger side of the vehicle. His skin is a fair shade of olive, complimented beautifully by the beige jacket slung over his shoulders. Checkered brown pants cover his legs, and he’s clutching a sturdy briefcase in one hand. Andrew retreats, keeping a palm on the small of your back as he leads you over to his companion.

“Girls,” he says, tipping his cap, “this is my business partner, Martin Russell. Martin, these are my sisters.”

Martin bows his head. “Lovely to meet you both.”

“Are you tired, Mister Russell?” you ask. “It’s been a long journey, I’m sure.”

“I’m quite alright, miss, thank you,” he replies.

You don’t miss the way his amber eyes trail along your figure as he straightens up. You step back before you even have the chance to register what you’re doing.

“Hello!” Lydia—much to your relief—butts in, grabbing Martin’s hand and shaking it frantically. “I’m Lydia. Say, how would you describe your time at Harvard? Did you enjoy it? Was it a lot of work?”

Martin chuckles nervously, taken aback by your sister’s blathering. “Er,” he starts, “I—”

“Dee,” Andrew says, snickering quietly. “At least let the man get settled in before you begin interrogating him.”

“Sorry,” Lydia mumbles, shrinking away.

“That’s alright,” Andrew says, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. “You’ll have plenty of time to chat with him over dinner tonight, won’t you? Is it true that Beth is preparing my favourite?”

Your sister beams and nods. “I asked her to!”

“That’s very kind of you.” Andrew smiles. He looks up at the house, his forlorn gaze running over the plethora of pale bricks and clear windows. Abruptly, he pauses, squinting and lifting his fingers to shield his face from the sun. “Is that…?”

Your blood runs cold.

Andrew raises an arm high above his head. “Harry!”

And suddenly, staring down at the ground becomes your most pressing concern of the day. Harry makes his way over, a mountain of handsome grime. It’s unfair, really, you think. How does he manage to look so fetching, even beneath a thin layer of soot?

“How have you been?” Andrew asks, surging forward and shaking his hand. “It’s good to see you.”

“Likewise,” Harry replies, grinning. “I’ve been alright. Keeping the garden tame, keeping the stables clean.” He tosses a pointed look in Lydia’s direction. “Keeping this little bug out of trouble.”

“Hey!” she protests, crossing her arms over her chest.

Harry just chuckles.

“I’m happy to hear that,” Andrew says, nodding in satisfaction. “It’s nice knowing that there’s still a man around the house to take care of these two.”

You bristle at his words, scowling in mock-offense. “We are perfectly capable of taking care of ourselves, thank you very much.”

“I know.” Your brother shoots you a mischievous wink, and only then do you realise that he’s merely trying to get a rise out of you. You roll your eyes, though you can’t quell the fond smile that creeps onto your face.

“Let’s go in,” you suggest. “You can say hello to the rest of the staff, and then we can all wash up before dinner.”

Andrew hums in agreement. He tilts his head to the side, attention fixed almost exclusively on Harry. “You should come, H,” he says swiftly. “It’s been too long; we need to catch up.”

“Drew—” Your shoulders tense, and your nostrils flare. “I don’t think—”

“I’d love to,” Harry interrupts. He hooks his thumbs beneath the straps of his suspenders. “Thank you for the invite, Drew.”

“Of course.” Your brother nods before turning back to Lydia and Martin. “Shall we, then?”

The three of them push between you and Harry, climbing up the steps and disappearing through the front door. Inside, your sister unleashes a stream of fleeting questions: What’s it like in New York? Are the people nice? How was the food? Did you see the Statue of Liberty?

Gradually, her inquiries fade away. You stand there, chest inflated with a held breath and fingers fidgeting anxiously with the skirt of your dress. The sun beats down against the crown of your head, triggering a mild fit of dizziness.

Or maybe that’s just Harry.

“So…,” he begins, blowing out an awkward sigh. “What shall we be eating tonight?”

You scoff, unable to help yourself. “You accepted the offer without knowing exactly what it was?”

“Should I know?”

You swallow heavily, pinning your gaze on the scarlet vehicle still parked only a few feet away. “Minestrone,” you say. The word is clipped. “Drew loves it.”

“I’ve had it,” he tells you. “Beth always saves me a bit if there’s some left over.”

You nod wordlessly.

“Are you upset with me?” Harry asks, digging his hands into his pockets. You’re so taken aback by his question that your head snaps toward him, brows cinched together in confusion.

“What?” The question falls from your lips before you can blink. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”

“You won’t even look at me,” he hums, shrugging casually.

“I’m looking at you right now.”

“Not before, you weren’t.”

“I—” you break off, pursing your lips and squeezing your eyes shut. You pinch the bridge of your nose between two fingers, trying to keep yourself composed. “I have to go.”

“As do I.”

“Right.” You avoid his gaze. “Goodbye, then.” You whip around, hurrying up the steps.

“Goodbye,” Harry replies from behind you. The smile in his voice is painfully conspicuous. “See you at dinner.”

~*~

You’ve just pinned a final clip into your hair when Lydia comes barrelling through your bedroom door with no warning whatsoever. You’ve long since given up on reprimanding her for it. She always forgets to knock.

“Can you button me up?” she requests, spinning around and exposing her bare back.

“Did you run down the hall like that?” you ask, laughing at her eccentricity.

“Yes,” she says matter-of-factly. “But don’t worry—I made sure that the coast was clear.”

“Brilliant. Your reconnaissance skills are truly a sight to behold.”

She scoffs, smiling at you from over her shoulder. “Are you going to help me, or not?”

“Patience, Dee,” you say. You turn back to your own reflection, twirling your finger through a loose strand of hair and letting it fall picturesquely against your temple. “There.”

Her feet scuffle absentmindedly against the floor as you approach her. She’s wearing a pastel pink dress with short, puffy sleeves that cinch at her skinny biceps. The bottom hem of her petticoat tickles her knees, which strain against transparent white tights. You remember wearing something nearly identical when you were her age. The outfit isn’t a hand-me-down, though. The stitching is brand-new, and the fabric is crisp and fresh, like it’s never once seen the inside of a washtub.

“It’s nice having Drew back home, wouldn’t you agree?” you ask your sister. She squeals when the nail of your index finger ghosts playfully up her spine.

“It is,” she concurs as you begin to fasten the clasps at the small of her back. “I’ve missed him terribly.”

“So have I,” you hum, pressing your mouth into a thin line. “There are some things that I could do without, though. Like that comment he made about us not being able to take care of ourselves.”

“He was only teasing,” Lydia says. “You know that. Besides—” She shrugs, puckering her lips idly. “—he was right. Harry does take care of us, even though we may not always need it.”

At that, you pause.

“‘Harry takes care of us’?” you parrot, your brows knitting together. “What do you mean by that?”

“Well,” she starts, as though it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Who trims the lawn and tends to the flowers early in the morning? And who cleans out the stables when they get messy?”

“We pay him to do those things, Dee,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It’s his job.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she agrees. “But he does so much more, don’t you think?”

You say nothing. She takes your silence as an invitation to elaborate.

“For example,” she says—declares, “he never gets irritated with me whenever I prattle on about my day.”

“Oh.” You smirk. “So you are aware of your tendency to talk too much.”

“Not funny,” she deadpans. You giggle.

“He always lets me follow him around whenever I get bored,” she adds, her eyes glazing over. “And he likes to make sure that you’re alright, too.”

Your fingers fumble with the last button at the top of her dress. You pray that she doesn’t detect the sudden blunder. “How so?” you probe, trying to keep your voice level.

“You know,” she indicates, even though you most certainly do not. “Like today, as we were planting the roses. He asked me how you were doing—if you were eating well, if you were getting enough sleep. Those are fairly standard inquiries regarding one’s wellbeing, I’d say. Do you disagree?”

“No,” you murmur, gnawing on your painted bottom lip. “I don’t.”

You finish your task, fastening the final clasp on her dress and smoothing your fingers down her sides. “There you go,” you say softly, your throat dry. “All done.”

“Thank you,” she singsongs, twirling around to face you. She studies you closely, soaking in the black floor-length gown cascading down your figure. “You look beautiful,” she says, her tone sincere. “Martin’s going to be utterly speechless when he sees you!”

A weak chuckle falls from your mouth. “Shall we go down?” you suggest, wrapping a loose arm around her shoulders and guiding her toward the door.

“Yes, please,” she replies. She places a palm over her stomach, features crumpling into a theatrical scowl. “I’m famished.”

You smile.

And as you exit your bedroom with your sister in tow, you realise that she may have been wrong about which man you’re hoping to impress.

~*~

Dinner is full of surprises, many of which present themselves in the form of Martin Russell. It’s astonishing, you think, because the man who had barely spoken ten words upon first meeting you is now commanding the table at which you’re sat. Andrew is perched at the head, with Martin just off to his right. Lydia is next to him, and you’re directly across from him. And that means that Harry…

Harry is right next to you.

You do everything in your power to avoid looking in his direction. Thankfully, it proves to be easier than expected, considering the fact that Martin has been droning on about his company for the past fifteen minutes. You don’t believe that anyone else has managed to squeeze in a single word.

There’s wine, candles, and the finest china your family owns. But all of that pales in comparison to the man sitting beside you.

Harry cleans up exquisitely. Upon first entering the dining room, you were shocked to find him in a black tuxedo with a white bowtie resting just below his throat. It appears that he even combed and gelled his hair, though some strands have fallen free from the style and now hang down over his forehead. You don’t mind it, though—if anything, it’s a hint of the man you know peeking through. And the man you know is handsome—alarmingly so.

Drew had whistled as you descended the stairs. He then offered you his arm, patting your hand and telling you that you looked wonderful. Martin hadn’t been able to control his reaction, his eyes raking up and down your figure like you were a lavish meal on a silver platter. It had taken everything in you to hide your distaste.

But Harry…

Harry hadn’t said a word. He’d fixed his face perfectly, showing no sign of emotion whatsoever. You’d been hoping for something—anything—indicative of his opinion toward your outfit, but you observed no such consequence. He’d only acknowledged you with a curt nod before settling into his chair and pointedly looking away.

And now, here you are—a bowl of minestrone in front of you, a wineglass inches away from your lips, and an irritated groan simmering on the back of your tongue. Martin’s voice is growing more and more irksome by the minute.

“And then, it was as though they couldn’t get enough—”

“I had assured them that I would bring in at least twice the revenue—”

“It was incredible! I’ve never seen anything like it—”

You polish off the rest of your wine, reaching across the table for the half-empty bottle. No one notices as you pour a bit more of the alcohol into your glass, sneakily surpassing what would be considered appropriate for a lady to consume. You set the bottle back down with a silent huff, lifting the goblet to your lips and letting your attention wander.

You freeze when you catch Harry staring at you out of the corner of his eye. The edges of his mouth are curled up ever-so-slightly, nearly imperceptible. Heat rushes to your cheeks; you gulp down a large sip of wine, averting your gaze.

You deposit your drink onto the pristine white tablecloth, glaring intently at your food. You can feel Harry’s playful stare burning a hole into the side of your head; you suspect that he’s trying his hardest not to laugh.

Your soup has cooled substantially. You shovel a spoonful past your lips, swallowing it with a considerable amount of difficulty. Everyone else has nearly finished their dinner, save for Martin. You want to thrust his face into his bowl—maybe then, he’ll finally shut up.

You lift your wine back up to your mouth. The action draws Martin’s focus. His eyes flit down to your minestrone, and then jump to the other empty dishes around the table. At last, he seems to realise the disparity between your meals,  because a small, sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“Lord,” he chuckles, settling into the cushion of his chair. “You all must’ve been ravenous. I’ve hardly touched my food.”

“It’s hard to eat whilst boasting, I’d imagine,” you mutter into your glass.

A loud, hacking cough breaks you out of your little bubble. Your head snaps to the left. Harry is choking on his own wine, chiseled cheeks growing red with exertion. He curls his fingers into a firm fist, pounding a few times on his chest to dislodge the liquid stuck in his windpipe. Reflexively, you place a hand on his arm, your forehead wrinkling in concern.

“You alright, H?” Andrew asks, leaning forward over his plate.

“Fine!” Harry croaks. He makes an indiscernible gesture with his hand, waving your brother’s worries away. “I’m fine, thanks. Just went down the wrong way, that’s all.”

He coughs again, burying the sound into the crook of his elbow.

You watch him with troubled eyes. When your gazes lock, only then do you realise that your palm is still splayed out over his bicep. You pull away quickly, recoiling as though you’ve just passed your knuckles through an open flame. Harry’s body rumbles as he clears his throat. He hooks two fingers into the collar of his button-up, loosening it from where it’s secured tightly around his neck.

Lydia is talking, now, but her declarations fade into the background. You wish that you could concentrate on them—you really do—but you have more far more pressing matters at hand.

Like Harry shooting you a swift, secretive smile, and every piece of the puzzle clicking perfectly into place.

His unassuming sip…your quiet quip…

He’d heard you.

You sit back in your seat, your ears ringing. Harry places one of his hands on the wooden arm of his chair; his knuckles flex painstakingly. Across the table, Andrew and Lydia have resumed their lively conversation. Martin scarfs down the rest of his soup, trying to catch up. The candlesticks perched between your plates melt slowly, a mess of waxy dribbles and drops.

Somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind, you become aware that—for the first time tonight—no one is paying you any attention. The realisation makes you feel giddy, drunk on power and anonymity.

Or maybe that’s just the wine.

You peer down at Harry’s nails, studying them absentmindedly—they’ve been scrubbed clean.

And before you can even begin to register what on earth you’re doing, you reach out, tracing the veins on the back of his hand with one finger. Harry tenses; his concentration immediately falls to where you’re touching him. When you finally muster enough confidence to meet his gaze, you find him watching you with wide, awestruck eyes.

A small part of you is smug—that’s the reaction you’d been searching for at the beginning of the evening.  That’s how you’d wanted him to look at you when you made your entrance, wrapped up in a pretty black gown and layers of opaque red lipstick.

You cease your movements and retract your arm, tucking it back against your side as you turn your interest elsewhere. In the periphery of your vision, Harry has pinned you with an unwavering, stunned expression, his body rooted in place. Despite the rapid thumping of your heart, you keep your gaze trained ahead and your chin held high, pride swelling in your abdomen like a hot-air balloon.  

Lydia laughs at something that Andrew says. Martin tugs haughtily at the lapels of his suit. You release a heavy exhale and nudge your bowl a few inches away from your chest, completely sated.

~*~

Once everyone retires to their rooms for the evening, you wait approximately an hour before slipping out. You’re light on your feet, sneaking past Lydia’s quarters and the guestroom that was given to Martin for the duration of his stay. He snores��quite loudly, too. You can hear him as though he’s right next to you, even from where you’re hovering out in the hall.

You make your way down the spiral staircase, heading toward the large double doors leading to the backyard. You quickly tug on a delicate pair of slippers before sneaking out into darkness’ cool embrace. Midnight is only a few minutes away.

You pull your wool cardigan a bit tighter around your torso. The hem of your silk nightgown is shorter than that of a standard dress. The wind nips teasingly at your knees, making you shiver. Blades of grass tickle your ankles as you march toward the stables. There’s a single light hanging above the entrance, bathing the wooden panes in a faint yellow glow. Green grass gives way to dry soil and the odd piece of straw littered across the dirt.

Inside the stables, only two of the six pens are occupied. The first one houses Apollo, Andrew’s stallion. His skin is like chestnuts, his mane the colour of the sun. You’re sure that your brother will take him out early tomorrow morning—you doubt that he was able to find many docile steeds in the bustling streets of New York.

You bypass Apollo completely, stopping in front of your horse—Artemis.

She’s a sight to behold, white skin and jet-black hair. She reminds you of the first snowfall of the season: crisp and pure, untainted by footprints and pollution and everything else in between. She’s been your partner in crime for the past decade, even though you’ve spent the last few years simply guiding her along with your feet on the ground and a hand tangled in her reins.

Somewhere beneath the rational layer of your brain, you like to think that she sympathizes with your hesitation to get back on the saddle.

“Psst!” you hiss, leaning against the wooden gate of her pen. “Artemis! Come here, my love.”

She lifts her head up from the floor, chewing on a handful of hay. You dig your fingers into the material of your cardigan, producing a sugar cube from the depths of your left pocket. Artemis’ nostrils flare as you hold it out in your palm; she trots over happily, drawn to the sweet treat.

“Haven’t come to visit you in a few days,” you murmur as she dips her mouth against your hand. You stroke your knuckles down the side of her neck, petting her softly. “I’m sorry about that. Things have been so chaotic back at the house. I’ve barely gotten a moment to breathe.”

She whinnies quietly.

“Did you miss me?” you ask. When she nuzzles her nose into your arm, you smile. “I missed you, too. I thought that maybe you were developing a preference for Lydia. But that’s not possible, is it? I’m your favourite.”

Someone clears their throat from behind you. You gasp and whip around, hands flying to your chest. Your gaze locks onto an amused smirk and a pair of impish green eyes, and your stomach lurches uneasily.

“Hello,” you stammer, air caught in your lungs.

“Hello,” Harry replies.

He’s still dressed in his attire from dinner, though his appearance is significantly more relaxed. He’s abandoned the white bowtie and undone the top two buttons of his shirt, allowing his collarbones to peek out from beneath the pallid fabric. The cuffs of his suit have been rolled up, and his hair has completely fallen from its acute coif. Glossy strands tumble down around his temples, curling in a way that makes you want to reach out and touch them.

“What are you doing here?” you ask. You hope that he doesn’t hear the twinge of embarrassment in your voice. He caught you in the middle of a one-sided conversation with your horse, after all.

Harry holds up his hand. There’s a pale pink envelope clutched between his fingers.

“Post,” he says, like it’s the only reasonable explanation. It is, you suppose. “I was on my way home when I spotted you.”

Home. The little cottage just down the trail—the groundskeeper’s residence. It was built years ago, only a few acres away from the main house. You pass it sometimes when you take Artemis out for a walk. More often than not, you’ve found yourself studying its red bricks and white windowsills, yearning for a peek inside.

“Are you alright?” Harry asks, wrenching you from your thoughts.

“Yes.” You nod, blinking twice. “Your letter—,” you say, desperate to change the subject. “—who is it from?”

And you immediately want to sink into the earth, because it’s none of your bloody business, is it? You have no right to be poking around and questioning him about his personal life. A slight grimace tugs at the corners of your lips, smearing a pained expression across your features.

But Harry just hums, unperturbed by your inquiry.

“My sister,” he tells you, shrugging. “She writes to me from Paris.”

He has a sister?

“Paris,” you echo dumbly. “France?”

His lips twitch. You want to set yourself on fire.

“Does she like it?”

“I think so,” he says, watching you with twinkling eyes. “She wants me to visit her soon, but I’m—” He hesitates, looking away. “Well, I won’t bore you with the details.”

And though he hadn’t let the words slip out, you know exactly what he meant to say.

She wants me to visit her soon, but I’m stuck here.

A pang of guilt ricochets through your chest. Blood thunders in your ears as you direct your attention to the ground, kicking at the dirt below your slippers. You suddenly realise that whilst Harry is fully clothed, you’re dressed in nothing but a flimsy silk nightgown. You wrap your arms around your torso, pulling the sleeves of your sweater over your knuckles.

“Er—”

You glance up at Harry when the awkward noise falls from his mouth. “Yes?”

He lifts his chin and gestures toward Artemis, who has returned to her tasty pile of hay. “She belongs to Lydia, does she not?”

“No, actually,” you reply. “Lydia takes her out, typically, but…she’s mine.”

“I see.” His face renders an innocent type of curiosity, one eyebrow cocked high on his forehead. “Do you ride?”

You balk, nearly choking on your own saliva. “I beg your pardon?”

And just like that, the innocence is gone. Harry’s features melt into a portrait of wicked mirth. His irises glint roguishly as he fixes you with a shrewd, crafty smirk.

“The horse,” he says slowly, his tone ripe with amusement. “Do you ride?”

“Oh,” you croak. “Sorry, I—”

Your nostrils flare as you avert your eyes, too humiliated to meet his gaze. He’s aware of the way in which you interpreted his question. He understands why you were so appalled. He knows exactly where your mind went.

“No,” you answer quickly. “I don’t. Not anymore, at least.”

Harry tilts his head to the side, confused.

“How long has it been?” he asks. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you mount.”

“I stopped a few months before you came to work for us,” you say, playing with a loose thread hanging from your cardigan. After a beat of silence, you add, “There was…an incident. I fell.”

“Oh.” He recoils slightly, taken aback by your revelation. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s alright.” Your feet scuffle against the dusty ground. “Sometimes, I catch myself longing for it, but I just—” You shrug. “I can never seem to get back on.”

“I understand.” His response is excruciatingly sincere.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye. He takes an experimental step forward, gauging your reaction. When you don’t make a move to retreat, he does it again. You chew on the inside of your cheek as he draws nearer, and your heart stutters beneath your ribs when he angles his body to the side, offering you his arm.

“May I walk you back?”

Is there a hint of fondness in his voice, or is it merely your imagination?

“You may,” you concede weakly.

You slide your hand into the crook of his elbow and bid Artemis goodnight. The two of you stroll back up to the estate in silence, enjoying the tranquility of the evening. The wind whistles through the thicket of trees lining the edge of the property. Crickets chirp loudly, seeking shelter between blades of grass. Harry’s body is unbelievably warm, radiating heat despite the slight chill carried by nightfall.

You release his arm once you reach the steps of the back porch. He studies you carefully as you climb the first two stairs, a divot digging into the space between his brows.

All of a sudden, you pause, brought to a standstill by an invisible string. You spin back around, looking down and finding a pair of bright jade eyes in the dark.

“Goodnight, Harry,” you say softly, hands dropping to your sides.

Quicker than a bolt of lightning, he seizes your fingers between his. A faint gasp leaves your mouth when he bows forward and presses a gentle kiss to your knuckles. Harry peers up at you innocuously, pulling his lips away from your skin after a long moment of stillness.

“Goodnight, miss,” he says. The words flow over you like molasses, viscous and warm and inconceivably sweet. “Sleep tight.”

~*~

PART II: The Week

PART III: The Month

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