#all the people are staring and judging me for being this way. i should feel embarrassed. i should feel ashamed.

[robinsnest2111]

ah. i can hear yelling and crying and things getting thrown around a couple rooms over. either my father said or did something to set off my mother or it was something I did that set her off and I'll get a stern talking to once I leave my room, or it's just my mother's strong frustrations coming out in her usual outbursts for no apparent outside reason again...

either way, the way hearing her scream and cry and throw things around is still making my heart race to this day. I don't feel so good.

this'll be a fun evening at the restaurant, I can already tell (HEAVY SARCASM BTW) i'll have to retreat deep into my brain and avoid my parents' nagging why I'm so quiet or staring off into the middle distance so much like I pretty much always do during restaurant visits. maybe they'll buy my old "tired and headache" excuse this time as well...

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.

[feyburner]

I ??? woke up at 3am with this scene fully written in my mind palace and quickly jotted it down in the Notes app

*

Clark’s shaking his head before he realizes he’s doing it, and feels a twinge of embarrassment at his own bad manners when Bruce stops mid-word to look at him, brows raised.

“No?” he says.

“No,” Clark says, again without thinking, and again with the reflexive urge to apologize. Somewhere his mother is tutting without knowing why. But he doesn’t apologize, because he’s already saying, “No, it can’t—it can’t be that.”

“Okay,” Bruce says slowly. “Can you elaborate?”

He is, honestly, having trouble taking his eyes off the screen. The mockup design of his new suit is there, dark and sleek, ridged like tactical gear. The blue is like the last shade of evening before you can’t call it evening anymore, the color of nine PM in Kansas in July, so exact there’s a strong chance Bruce color-picked it from a photo. The yellow accents are the cool fluorescent yellow-green of lightning bugs. The red is dark as arterial blood. Every aspect of the suit has been updated—the colors deeper, the angles sharper, the S extending to the corners of its frame—but Bruce has done it without changing the fundamentals. It’s immediately recognizable as the Superman suit, just… well, a little cooler, maybe. A little more of the times. Even the tailoring is modernized. The neckline. The shape of the boots. Where the belt hits at the waist. Clark can tell just by looking that Bruce has not only spent a lot of time on this in general, he’s spent a lot of time designing it specifically with Clark in mind, Clark’s needs and preferences and the small discomforts of his current suit, things he might have mentioned offhand after a mission but never with the assumption that Bruce was listening or filing it away. No doubt the next slides of this presentation will detail all the hidden features of the new suit, and they’ll all be incredibly thoughtful if not slightly overkill, and Bruce will pretend his sole motive here was practicality and risk reduction and respond to any thanks with a curt nod.

And Clark wants to thank him. He will. It’s just.

“It can’t be… cool,” he says, inane. Bruce is watching him with that steady look that used to feel clinical, piercing, and now mostly reads as attentive. “It can’t be—like yours. Tactical, military-grade.”

“Lightyears beyond, actually.”

“It has to—Ma said once, a kid should be able to draw it with crayons. You know? I can’t look like a weapon. I have to—I want to look like a friend.”

He can feel himself flushing. It’s rare that he speaks like this, and rarer still that he does so while being stared at intently. Bruce may think of himself as the darkness, but his gaze is a spotlight: unwavering and revealing and more a little sweat-inducing, for one reason or another.

“Sometimes, when I show up, people laugh,” Clark says. “If it’s somewhere out of the way, where they haven’t seen me before. I show up and I look like a festival performer. It’ll be the worst day of their lives, and they’ve got no reason to trust my face, but when they see what I’m wearing—it goes from ‘Who are you?’ to ‘Who is this guy?’ And that’s a good thing.”

“Hard to be afraid of a man dressed in primary colors,” Bruce says, almost to himself.

“Exactly.”

“I see. Thank you,” he says, “for explaining.”

Clark tries not to show how surprised he is to hear that. Judging by the crook of Bruce’s mouth, his success is negligible. “Of course. Sorry I didn’t—I mean, thank you, obviously, for going to such trouble. I didn’t mean to come in here and—I really do appreciate it, I can tell you put a lot of work in—”

Bruce’s eyes cut away. “No. No need. I didn’t ask, before I…. It was only a first draft. If you’re amenable, I’ll incorporate your feedback into the second one.”

“Oh! Yeah. Yes, of course, but you really don’t have to—”

“If you have any further notes, I would like to hear them.”

There’s something determined in the lines of his face. Clark has the sense that this moment is important, that it’s a turning point, even if he’s not sure why. It feels like striking out into a sea of ice, a blank white expanse under which something precious and vital is hidden, has been hidden all along, just waiting for him to find it. To want to.

“Sure,” he says. He looks back at the suit and swallows, and knows Bruce will see the flicker of his throat and take some meaning from it, and wishes he knew what the meaning was. Or maybe Bruce won’t notice or read into it at all. Maybe Clark needs to calm down, in fact. “Um. I don’t want to assume, but does it… do things?”

“It does things,” Bruce confirms, after the barest pause. “Let me show you the next slide.”

[obguro]

The Pretty Boy

A KNY x Male Reader —— !?

> Going back to Tanjiro’s trial, what if he had a brother?

> warnings; mentions of blood/stabbing, y/n is a cutie pie, hes also kagayas biggest fan, a tinkle of angst :3

⋆ ---––——––------––——––--- ⋆

⋆ ---––——––------––——––--- ⋆

“Wake up! I said wake up!”

Tanjiro started to hear as he started to awaken. “Hey! Can you even hear me?!” A kakushi known as Goto, yelled as he started to get irritated with the boy laid on the ground. “Come on, get up! Are you going to sleep all day?!” Goto yelled once more. The burgundy haired boy jumped awake at the sound of the yells.

“I heard he was a demon slayer with a demon in tow, so I was expecting someone with more flair. Only for it to be just some ordinary-looking kid? Lame.”

“We must see that this boy is put on trial to be judged!”

“To think that he’s been protecting his siblings who has been turned into demons..What a brave and beautiful display of sibling love!!”

Tanjiro opened his mouth, preparing to speak before he felt his head being shoved into the rocks below him. “Don’t open your mouth until you’re told to do so! You are in the presence of the Hashira!”

Tanjiro opens his eyes to glance at the people who were introduced as The Hashira. “The Hashira.. What is that? Who are these people? Where am I?” Tanjiro’s mind raced with questions that were unanswered. Suddenly a lady with a butterfly hair piece started to speak. “This is the Demon Slayer headquarters. You’re here because you are to be put on trial. Before we start, why don’t you explain the crime you have been accused of-” The lady was then interrupted.

“There’s no need for a trial!”

Flame Hashira; Rengoku Kyojuro.

“Protecting not one, but two demons is a clear violation! We can deal with this on our own! We should end all three of them!” Rengoku stated in a loud tone, before another voice was heard.

“In that case, I’ll decapitate them with style!”

Sound Hashira; Uzui Tengen

“I’ll show you the most dramatic spray of blood you have ever seen!” Uzui stated before another voice was heard.

“No way! You’d really kill such an adorable child!”

Love Hashira; Kanroji Mitsuri

“Such a thought fills my heart with sorrow..” Mitsuri stated with a sad tone, before another voice was heard.

“Alas to see such a pitiful creature as this..”

Stone Hashira; Himejima Gyomei

“I grieve for him. Perhaps it would have been better if he hadn’t been born at all.” Gyomei stated as tears ran down his face, before another voice was heard.

“What was the shape of that cloud again?..”

Mist Hashira; Tokio Muichiro

“What was it called?.. I can’t remember.” Muichiro stated in a low tone while gazing up at the sky.

Tanjiro started to look around trying to spot the box which held his younger and older siblings. Goto noticed this and started to question him. “What are you looking at? Your focus should be on them. They’re the highest ranking swordsmen in the corps.” Tanjiro stared at the 6 people standing before him, before starting to look around again. “Nezuko! Y/N! Where did you take them?” Tanjiro asked out loud, sitting up from his position. He started to call out for his friends as well, before a voice from above was heard.

“Nevermind the boy, what will we do with Tomioka?”

Serpent Hashira; Obanai Iguro

“From what Kocho stated earlier, he is just as guilty for breaking the corps rules. Seeing him without restraints makes me feel ill. What do you have to say for yourself, Tomioka?” Obanai asked while pointed his finger at someone. He was met with silence.

“…”

Water Hashira; Tomioka Giyuu

As Giyuu stayed silent, another voice spoke up for him.

“I think it’s fine, he did come here without any resistance.”

Insect Hashira; Kocho Shinobu

“Let’s come up with a penalty later!” Shinobu stated cheerfully. “What I’m more interested in, is this boys story. He’s been traveling with demons, even as a demon slayer.. I want to hear why. What he did was unquestionably against corps rules!” She kept her gaze on Tanjiro, who then looked at her. Tanjiro let out a gasp of shock, not knowing this information. “Why are you traveling with demons despite being a demon slayer, Tanjiro Kamado? You can take your time, just answer the question.” Shinobu had asked in a confused tone, waiting for the boy to answer.

Tanjiro started to answer the question, only to realize he couldn’t due to the pain from his throat. Shinobu kneeled down in front of him a gourd of water, holding it out to him. “It looks like you need some water.” Tanjiro looked at it before grabbing it with his teeth and drinking it. “It seems you have injured your jaw so please be careful! I added an anesthetic to help with the pain.” Shinobu stated as he gulped down the water. Tanjiro finished the water in a few seconds, feeling some relief. Shinbou spoke up again, “Are you ready to tell us your story now?”

Y/N’s POV — Location: In The Box

As I woke up, I could hear some lady shouting at the person carrying the box Nezuko and I were in.

“Please Master Shinazugawa! I must ask you to put down that box!”

So his name is Shinazugawa?.. Pretty name.. I wonder where Tanjiro is..

I glanced at my younger sister, who was still asleep.

Nezuko.. You’re okay.. You had me worried when we were fighting that Lower Moon.. He was such a poor soul.. I hope he was able to meet his family in the afterlife.

I started to zone out, thinking back to the fight that occurred a while ago. I guess I got too distracted by my thoughts because the next thing I knew, I felt a sharp pain through my shoulder. I couldn’t help but let out a large muffled yelp from the sudden pain.

Glancing down, I noticed a green and black colored sword going through Nezuko’s and I’s shoulder. I looked at her with a worried expression basically asking, “are you alright?” She nodded a little bit, still wincing from the pain.

“Anyone who harms my siblings answers to me! I don’t give a fuck if you’re a hashira or not!”

Oh there you are Tanjiro.. I’m so glad you’re okay.

“Oh how very nice for you!” A deep voice says with a chuckle. The sword was then ripped out of the box completely. I let out a gasp as blood started to drip down my arm and chest, slowly regenerating.

“Cease this! The master will be arriving shortly!” Another voice shouted.

There was a loud sound before I could feel the box hitting the floor, accidentally hitting my head on the side of the box. I could hear a commotion from outside the box, consisting of multiple gasps and sweet sound of a giggle followed by a “pardon me.”

“If you can’t tell the difference between good demons and bad ones, then you shouldn’t be a hashira!” I heard Tanjiro yell from the box.

Tanjiro… I let out a smile. You’re still protecting us no matter what… You’re the best younger brother anyone could have.

“You little..I’ll destroy you!” The same deep voice that was holding the box earlier was heard. Before anything else could happen, a unfamiliar feminine voice spoke up, “The master of the mansion has returned.”

Master of the mansion? Where are we right now?..

A gentle, warming voice then spoke, “My beloved children, I thank you for coming here this day.” I could hear different pairs of feet walking, then the same voice spoke again, “Good morning to you all, the weather is strikingly nice today. Perhaps with a blue sky?”

His voice puts me at ease.. It’s so gentle and comforting.. I wonder who that is

“Finding ourselves here at the semiannual gathering with all the same faces, It brings me joy.” He spoke before the box was hit again. I then heard Shinazugawa speak up, “I’m pleased as well to see you in good health as well, master.”

I’m so sleepy.. Why am I so tired? It shouldn’t hurt to take a small nap… My thoughts faded as I started to doze off, falling into a dream.

Y/N’s POV — Location: In the Dream

I opened my eyes and looked around, noticing it was nothing but a black void. A voice spoke up behind me, “Y/N dear..”

I turned around to see a lady. A lady with black hair and purple eyes. My mother.

“Mother…” I let out in a soft tone. She smiled at me, holding her arms open. I knew what this meant. I would always give her hugs.

I then walked right into her arms, starting to tear up. Why wasn’t i the one who died?.. why couldn’t you be the one who lived?… She wrapped her arms around me, feeling the same as it used to. Warm. Comforting.

“My son, I am so proud of you. You protected your siblings.” She stated as she started to run her fingers through my (h/c) hair. “Please keep making me proud and continue to protect them..” I let of a nod against her shoulder.

“I promise I will.”

Y/N’S POV — Location: In the Box

I woke up from my dream immediately from the scent of blood.

Was someone hurt?

I open my eyes to see crimson blood dripping into the cracks of the box. I look over at Nezuko to see her starting to drool through her muzzle.

“Nezuko.. calm down.” I let out in soft whisper, hoping to calm her hunger.

“Hey demons! It’s time for your dinner!” I heard Shinazugawa shout from outside the box. Nezuko started to claw at the box and let out growls of hunger. “Don’t hold back. Show us your true colors.” Shinazugawa spoke again.

Another voice spoke up, this one unfamiliar. “It’s the daytime, no good doing this now. It will only show up in the shadows.”

I don’t like where this is going..

“Master, Please forgive me for the discourtesy I’m about to commit.” Shinazugawa spoke from the same spot. I could feel the box get lifted and slammed onto the ground once again. The same sword from earlier stabbed into the box again, going through the shoulder of Nezuko then out again.

I’m starting to get irritated.. He keeps injuring her… I look at Nezuko worried.

“Stop it!” I heard Tanjiro yell.

Suddenly, the door of the box was opened from the outside. Nezuko started to stand up, growing to her full size.

This is such a pain..

I look up from the box at who I assumed was Shinazugawa. White Hair. Violet Eyes. Scars Everywhere. I took in his appearance, not affected by his blood in the slightest.

I don’t have the desire to drink blood..but Nezuko can’t help it.. You got this, honey.

I heard Tanjiro yell out our younger sisters name. I look at Nezuko to see her stop struggling but had a lost look on her face. She stood there for a few seconds before turning away with a look of digust.

The comforting voice from earlier spoke up again, “Tell me what happened.” The unfamiliar feminine voice then explained.

“There it is, undeniable proof Nezuko won’t attack a human.” The soft voice explained to the other voices I heard prior to falling asleep I assume.

Nezuko looked down at me and I just let out a closed eyed smile at her. Then Shinazugawa spoke up, “What about you?! Huh?! You know you want it!” I look up at him to see him glaring down at me.

I guess it’s my turn.. I stood up, growing to my full size.

3rd Person POV

The other Hashiras shifted their focus to the other demon that started to come out of the box, taking in its appearance in shock. It was a male with (h/l) (h/c) hair tied up, (e/c) with slitted pupils, and he was dressed up in a black kimono. He was the definition of pretty. They noticed something different though, there was a gentle look in his eyes.

The (h/c) male looked at Shinazugawa, before reaching for his bamboo muzzle. The other hashiras reached for their swords just in case. They watched as the demon took the muzzle out of his mouth, letting it rest around his neck.

“Are you alright?.. You’re bleeding.” The males voice came out soft. Shinazugawa stared at the male in confusion and shock at the question. He then let out a growl of anger, “Why are you asking me that?! Why aren’t you affected by my blood?!” Y/N just simply smiled at him slightly before reaching into his kimono, pulling out a roll of gauze. “You shouldn’t injure yourself.” Y/N stated as he gently took the white haired males arm, starting to wrap the gauze around the open wound. Shinazugawa was too shocked to speak or move away from the male.

Y/N finished wrapping the olders arm, then he turned towards the others. The first thing he noticed was a man dressed in striped clothing was pinning down his younger brother to the floor with his elbow.

“Excuse me, the man with the snake.. Would you mind letting my brother go please? Neither Nezuko or I are not going to attack any of you.” Y/N asked in a soft tone to the other male.

Obanai scoffed and replied in a harsh tone, “No way, I’m not taking orders from a de-” He was interrupted by the tall male inside the house, known as Kagaya Ubuyashiki. “Obanai.. Please release the boy.” Obanai stared, wide eyed at his master but followed the orders given.

Y/N looked at the Master, noticing the sickness that was on his face. No matter, he still thought the male in front of him was gorgeous.

“Do tell me what happened with the other demon..” Kagaya spoke curiously. One of his daughters spoke up from next to her father, “The male demon smiled at Shinazugawa before wrapping his wounds for him, the blood seemingly not affecting him at all.”

“Well my children.. That proves that Y/N nor Nezuko will not harm humans.” Kagaya let out a soft smile towards his Hashiras. “I hope this will be accepted by all that these two demons will stay and work for the Demon Slayer corps. Tanjiro go out and defeat a Twelve Kizuki, do that and you’ll be accepted by all.”

Tanjiro sat up, looking at the master. “Alright! Me and my siblings will defeat Muzan Kibutsuji!” Y/N covered his face in embarrassment at his younger brothers bold claim, knowing well that they barely survived their last fight. “Let’s start with defeating a twelve kizuki first.” Kagaya said towards the boy with a slight chuckle.

The other hashiras let out some giggles as Tanjiro bows his head in embarrassment. “We have concluded our business with you, Tanjiro.” Kagaya stated. Shinobu then requested that the three siblings would stay at her estate, Kagaya agreeing.

Y/N walked over to the shared box, shrinking to fit in with his sister. Climbing in the box, Y/N shut the door behind him. The kakushi lifted the box, carrying it away towards The Butterfly Mansion, not before apologizing to the master for the intrusion.

Y/N held his sister close as he fell asleep with one thought in his mind.

“Everything will be okay, your big brother is here.”

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ hell-bound ! ” :

﹙ top demon lord x bttm angel fem reader﹚. 𖹭 ݁

. . . valerius ariti x fem angel reader !! 🍓:﹙ demon ˖ hex rhytaari character ﹚

you lose a bet to a demon-lord and find yourself at the foot of his throne. what do you do when the price is to be paid in your body? an angel like yourself, corrupted by a demon

﹙ cws﹚: explicit content ˖ dubcon ˖ rough sex ˖ penetrative sex ˖ riding ˖ degradation ˖ creampie ˖ bet making ˖ corruption kink ˖ virginity loss | wc :1.0k

﹙ receipts﹚: people be sleeping on vale a bit too much like aahhhh this man is SOO

꒰other treats: guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore ꒱

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who lost a bet not only to a demon — but the most formidable Lord of the Abhorration. What a fool you were. A silly little pigeon fresh out of the divine realms. Fluttering your new pair of wings and flaunting your newborn freedom. Fly away, little bird. Fly right into the demon’s clutched. His clawed hands will welcome you greedily. With sweet smiles and sinister stares. Here you are, knelt before his throne. Quivering. Feathers flutter to the ground with your tremble. You can barely look upon him. “Poor little bird. . .” “Wh-What do you want from me?” “What I want? Or what I crave?”

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who the Lord of Hex’s has taken quite an interest in. You didn’t expect the tender touch across your face. He rose from his throne to caress you like a frightened, wounded woodland creature. One of the purer critters that trotted through these vast, cursed lands. He tilts your head up so that you are met with his bronze face. The sheer magnificence of his androgynous features adorned with long rivers of gold flowing from his head. Compliments to the gilted chains dangling from all around. Why must a being of malice look so mesmerising? Was a demon or a siren? Even his voice lured you in. Poor little bird indeed, fluttering to the maw of a beast. “I have always pondered how an angel must feel . . . like zenith? Perhaps I should not judge a book by cover. Might you be dirtier than the pits from which we crawl?” His grin speaks his thoughts. Even still, you cannot bring yourself to withdraw from the claws wrapped around your jaw. If anything, you melt. Like an angel in heat. What a disgrace.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who becomes the perfect fucktoy for such a cruel being. Sprawled out on his lap as he leans back into his throne. You worship his cock with the way you bounce upon it. Even if you struggle. Even if your walls clamp and weep around his large girth. All you’ll receive is a clawed clap to the ass. A squeeze of the fat and a crooned voice in your ear. “Is this how you treat a Lord? Pitiful.” Yet still he’s rubbing at your clit with a sly thumb. In slow, tight circles that echo your sobs through his temple. You’re dripping all over him with every orgasm. Staining the base of his dick in a perfect ring of cream. Oh, how he throbs within you.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who is made to face forward while he pounds up into you. Shakes your sacred body like a covenant shattering. He cares not for his servant’s curious eyes. To the demons that stare upon you with just as much greed. But they know not to touch. Valerius does enough of that with his hands of heat trailing all over you skin. Mapping out the divine flesh that is all his. Squeezing at your bouncing breasts. Yanking you back so that your spin arches. Ass flushed into his lap as he delivers a series of fast, rough fucks up into your sweetspot.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who gets creamed full of a demon’s cum. Shouldn’t you be ashamed? Instead you’re spilling whorish moans and pleading for more. Grinding your hips down into his pathetically. Even daring to try and grip at his arms for support. He’ll let it go this time. Your fucked-out face and drooling countenance earns all of his forgiveness. “Oh? Does the pretty little bird want more?” His lower set of arms snatches your waist and slams you all the way down. So that you are forced to take his behemoth of a length. Your cries are like prayers, your squeezing, pink walls like praise. “Tell me, my dearest angel. . . have you been touched before? Or am I the first? A demon? Fucking the virginity out of this tight little cunt. . .”

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who does indeed get the virginity fucked right out of her. Once he is tired of making you a ragdoll on his lap, he bends you over his throne and displays the true stamina of a demon. His first set of hands clamp around your throat. The third set clings to your hips and slams you back into his squirting cock. The second does it’s due diligence at feeling every crevice that is now his. Your perky breasts pinched between fingers. Your tummy bulged with his huge dick splitting you open. Your folds so needily taking him in. Your clit that’s all swollen and just begging for the slap of his palm.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who gets all nice an bred by Valerius, if only to be set free as though nothing happened. You’ll stumble through the divine realms still feeling his seed for weeks. Grind up against whatever you possible can and imagine its him. Haunted through the night of endless dreams where he’s fucking you out on your bed. Reminding you that you’ll never truly get away from him. Clawing, gripping, owning you for all you are worth. As if you wouldn’t offer yourself as sacrifice to him any day.

Angel!Reader !! 🍒 : Who crawls back to the Abhorration begging for his attention. And you’ll find it in the form of claws wrapped tightly in your hair. A mouth full of that same cock that stole your virginity. Choking away at his addictive, sinful cum. All while he’s crooning above you. Through slithered golden hues and sharp, sinister grins. “Suppose I have myself a pretty angelwhore now, hmm? Why not rid your wings and stay here? After all,” a rough thrust to the back of your throat. Another round of his copious amounts of demonic seed. “You are far too tainted by a demon’s hands. Not to mention his cock. That’s it precious. Keep sucking.”

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[iluvmattsbeard]

where were you? (m.s)

master list

matt sturniolo x reader

VERY STRONG WARNING: SELF HARM/angst/swearing

(please do not read if you are highly sensitive with this subject.)

preview: you were the new student at school. you kept to yourself which caught Matt's eye. he was determined to figure you out.

a/n: this one hits close to home. if you are struggling with your mental health, know you are not alone. you are here for a reason. these type of emotions are tricky to figure out and no one should have to deal with them all by themselves. YOU ARE WORTH MORE THAN YOU THINK. I thank the triplets for bringing me back to life, especially Matt for shining light on the subject and being so genuine.

it was early in the morning at school. you just moved to Boston a few weeks ago. you were suppose to start school right away but you couldn't find the strength to do so. you were dreading being in a new environment and meeting new people. today, you had no choice but to show up. the school was blowing up your grandparents phones asking when you will be coming in. so today, you finally showed up.

you walked into the school's office getting your schedule. "name?" the lady at the front desk asks. "y/n l/n" you spoke out quietly looking around. she nods as she looks through a drawer pulling out a small sheet of paper, also grabbing a map. she hands you them as she speaks, "welcome to our school. enjoy your first day!" she says with a warm smile. you give a weak closed mouth smile as you thank her.

you look at the map as you find your way to your first class. taking small steps as possible still dreading being there. you finally stop in front of the classroom door as you put your hand on the handle gently, taking a small breather before stepping inside.

as soon as you walk in, all eyes land on you. you stand there uncomfortably with your heart racing fast. you took their looks feeling judged already. "hello! you must be y/n. correct?" you nod. "great. nice having you here. you may take a seat anywhere." you try to avoid looking around as you make your way straight to the back, sitting in an empty seat. you sat next to a brown haired boy not really paying attention to his face. "hey" you hear him whisper. you turn to look at him automatically catching his blue eyes. "hi" you whisper back looking away after. "i'm Matt" he says still having his eyes on you. as you don't respond, he continues to speak, "uh... I just wanted to introduce myself since we'll be sitting next to each other for the rest of the quarter. we usually do lots of partner work so, I was just hoping to get to know you so this isn't awkward."

you look at him with a blank stare. you appreciated his effort. "I'm y/n" you respond. he gives a soft smile as he looks at the paper laying on your desk. "can I take a look?" he asks pointing at your schedule. you nod sliding it over to him. "I can help show you around." he offers looking up from the paper and back towards you. you shake your head a bit before speaking, "no it's fine." grabbing your schedule. "i'll figure it out." "well I would like to anyways to make you feel comfortable." he suggests. you knew he wasn't going to stop pushing so you later on agree.

Matt walked with you during every passing period before lunch. he showed you where the bathrooms were, where the library was, and where the cafeteria was before walking you to your next class. the last class before lunch. "that actually helps a lot" you tell him with the same weak smile from earlier. "i'm glad" he says with a smile before walking away. you walk into class as you sit down looking at the clock already wanting the time to go faster.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you were finally home as you stand in front of your bathroom mirror sighing. you looked at yourself for a bit. analyzing your face noticing your heavy eye bags. you suffered from the worst insomnia. every night you felt yourself being so tired. but when you shut your eyes, your mind keeps you awake with thoughts you wish you could avoid.

“y/n?” you hear your grandmother say behind the door as she knocks. you open the door revealing her with a gentle smile. “hi y/n. how was school?” she asks. “it went great.” you reply lying through your teeth. you had no choice but to lie. you didn’t feel the need to throw your negativity onto her. you always kept your own thoughts to yourself. especially around your grandparents. you didn’t want to worry them or push them away. they were all you had since your parents disappeared with no warning a few years ago. that’s when everything went down hill for you.

you had this repetitive thought in your head telling you how much of a disappointment you were that even your own parents couldn’t stay. you slowly lost yourself and your ability to socialize.

when night time came around, you laid in bed in the pitch black dark as you let out a soft sigh shutting your eyes. you were practically begging at this point for a good night’s rest. but you couldn’t. you open your eyes as you get up and walk to the bathroom locking it. you opened the drawer and focus your eye on something you were use to. picking it up and letting out a shaky breath.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been a few days now since you’ve been at school. every day had you feeling drained. you even still felt like you were being constantly judged even though people’s stares soon disappeared. you still felt the need to be on your toes. it was lunch time. you walked out of class as you see Matt. “hey y/n. you want to join me for lunch?” he asks. you avoid eye contact with him walking as you speak, “i guess” he nods with a smile as he starts talking about how his day has been so far with you just listening.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

you and Matt have been talking more at school. you told him where you were before moving to Boston, you shared common interests, and he talked about his brothers a lot. you were slowly getting used to having him around.

as you and Matt sit in class, you both just sat there doing your work. it was pretty silent in class indicating everyone was focused. you were minding your business until one of your classmates accidentally bumped into your table causing your phone to fall onto the ground. you lean down in your chair reaching for your it as the sleeve of your hoodies goes up slightly. Matt also went to reach for your phone but he stopped himself when he catches a glimpse of your slightly raised sleeve.

Matt’s POV

when i almost reached down to pick up y/n’s phone, i can’t help but notice her sleeve going up a bit revealing her wrist covered in red slits. it stopped me in my tracks as i sat there in shock. she didn’t notice at all that i seen. i look away as i continue to do my work, or pretend, having the image stuck on my mind. why would she do that?

End of Matt’s POV

when school finally ends, you walk out the doors as you get stopped by Matt. “hey y/n!” you turn to look at him. “oh hi” you respond. “you said you walk home so, can i give you a ride?” he asks. “no it’s okay. i like to walk.” you reply with a blank stare. Matt has now been eyeing you closely after what happened.

“come on” he says grabbing your hand softly with a slight smile pulling you to where his car is. “Matt seriously it’s no problem” you say. he opens the door for you looking at you before speaking, “get in” you step inside his car thanking him. “well that was nice of him”you thought to yourself.

the car ride was mostly silent as the only sound playing was his music slightly low. you notice he would glance at you from time to time. after a bit, he pulls up in front of your house putting the car in park. “thank you Matt. i really appreciate it.” you spoke looking at him. “anytime y/n.” he responds smiling. before you completely got out the car he stops you. “oh wait.” you turn around to look at him again. “is it okay to ask for your number?” he asks hoping you would say yes. “um.. sure.” you reply hesitantly. you never really gave anybody your number before. but Matt has been the first to ask for your number in the first place. he hands you his phone and you type it in. he thanks you with a smile and you just nod before going inside.

it was later in the night when you found yourself on your bathroom floor with a blank face. you look down and lift up your sleeves as you flinch a bit from the fabric sticking onto your fresh cuts. you looked at it feeling numb. you had your reasons for doing what you did. but nobody seemed to care to ask. you hid it from your grandparents because you didn’t want to crush them. they basically raised you when your parents couldn’t. they didn’t need to feel like they failed because that’s far from the truth. they did everything right. you just truly were stuck in your own head. that’s why the only comfort you were use to was picking up your razor blade.

you sigh as you let your thoughts consume you. you didn’t want to feel this way anymore. you just wanted to escape from your own head. you pick up the blade but hear your phone buzz.

unknown number

‘hey y/n it’s matt’

you pick up your phone as you reply back.

Y/N

‘hi matt’

as soon as you know it, you two were texting all night distracting you before going to bed.

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

it’s been quite some time now you’ve been in Boston. even though you had Matt, every single day that goes by got you feeling weaker and weaker. Matt would distract you sometimes. he still had no clue what you’ve been going through. besides the one time he’s seen it but never brought it up.

Matt’s POV

i showed up to school anticipating excitement knowing i get to see y/n. she’s honestly the best person to talk to. it still crosses my mind the thought of her hurting herself but lately i haven’t seen any other signs. but when i arrived to class, she wasn’t there.

Matt

‘where are you?’

i text her but i get no response. i decided to wait and not think much of it until i realized she wasn’t texting back all day.

Matt

‘y/n are you okay?’

‘answer me y/n’

‘why aren’t you at school? why aren’t you replying?’

no response.

when school ends, i decided to get in my car and drive to her house. it was starting to scare me.

End of Matt’s POV

you sat on your bathroom floor with your head leaned against your bath tub, looking at the ceiling. your door wasn’t closed all the way so when Matt walked into your room and saw you in your bathroom, he felt his heart drop. you turned your head as you sat up, “Matt? how’d you get in here?” you ask confused. he walks up to you as he shuts the bathroom door.

“your grandma let me in.” he says. “why weren’t you responding to my texts? what’s wrong?” he asks. you avoid eye contact as you speak, “sorry. just didn’t feel like going.” all he does is stare at you before sitting down in front of you. “talk to me” he says quietly not pulling his eyes away from you. “there’s nothing to talk about?” you say in a confused tone. “clearly there is. i know you don’t like school but you will show up. how come not today?” he questions. “like i said, i didn’t feel like going.” you respond looking at your hands. “are you at least okay?” Matt asks with worry plastered on his face.

“of course i am” you say looking at him with a weak smile. “why wouldn’t i be?” he stays silent as he grabs your hand softly. taking his other hand to raise your sleeve slowly, with him looking at it frozen. you yank your hand away as you get up pulling the sleeve back down.

“what the fuck are you doing?” you ask as you feel yourself heat up. he stands up as well before speaking, “y/n why didn’t you tell me?” “what was there to tell you Matt?” you say in annoyance. “you doing that y/n. why didn’t you just tell me?” he asks with a somber face. “i saw them before in class when you reached for your phone. i never said anything because i didn’t want to pressure you.” “what was i suppose to tell you Matt?!” you say raising your voice. “it’s none of your business or your concern!”

“y/n please talk to me. i’m worried about you.” he says trying to grab your hand but you step back. “don’t touch me! i don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” you tell him. “i care about you. i get you like to keep things to yourself but i’m hear to listen.” he says. you let out a scoff, “this is unbelievable.” you say. “what’s so unbelievable about me wanting to be here for you?” you look at him with your face burning up from rage after his response. “i didn’t ask for you to be here! you should’ve minded your own business.” you exclaim. “i felt like i needed to be here y/n. for you. i don’t want you going through this alone. it pains me to know you just keep quiet.”

“because it’s none of your fucking business Matt! it’s my shit to keep to myself. not for you to hear. it pains you? well how do you think i feel!” you yell out. “y/n please.” he says quietly. “no Matt! i want you gone. no one has ever been here for me before and i sure as hell don’t need anybody now! especially you being here telling me you care when you don’t know shit!”

“yeah i don’t know shit y/n. that’s why i’m here trying to prove to you that i want to be here for you!” he says keeping eye contact. “Matt just get out!” you yell. “i’m not going anywhere y/n.” he says getting close to you trying to hold you but you push your hands against his chest trying to pull away from him, repeatedly screaming out, “get out! get out! GET OUT!” but he doesn’t listen and you eventually give into his hold as you break down crying with your legs giving out. Matt goes down as well holding you as he leans back against the sink cabinet wrapping his arms around you, embracing you in a hug.

he rubs your back softly as you sob in his chest. “i got you y/n. i’m right here for you.” he says reassuringly, resting his chin on your head. “i’m here to listen.” he pulls away as he lifts up your chin looking at the tears roll down your cheeks. he wipes them away and tucks your hair behind your ear. “i don’t know what’s wrong with me. i want the thoughts to go away and i try to put it into words but i just don’t get it.” you say sadly. he holds your hand as he speaks, “i know it can be difficult. i’m not asking you to tell me everything now because i know this is new for you. take all the time you need. but, i will be here. for you.” you look into his eyes as more tears stream down your face from his kind words. “you’ll be okay i promise.” he finishes, wiping your tears away again. you wrap your arms around his neck hugging him as he wraps his around your waist.

you knew you were safe with him. he validated that for you. “where were you when i needed someone the most?” you whisper out. “i could’ve avoided all this.”

“now they’re just going to turn into ugly scars…” you add on. he pulls away from the hug as he lifts up your sleeves. you gulp as he looks at them. he pulls your arms up gently to his face as he leaves soft kisses on your self inflicted wounds.

“don’t say that. when they turn into scars, i will look at them and tell you how incredibly beautiful they are.” he says. “you’re here for a reason y/n. these that will soon turn into scars, will show how you’ll progress to be stronger.”

you smile softly not even remembering the last time you actually let out a real smile. “thank you Matt.” you say. he smiles as he leaves a kiss on your forehead. “don’t thank me. i’ll always be here.” he says leaving the both of you still on the bathroom floor embracing each other.

A/N: i hope you guys enjoyed this Matt imagine. please always spread kindness and positivity!

[pomefioredove]

if you're still taking requests for the event could i request floyd with "Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" ? ty !

hehe ofc ofc!

summary: "maybe we should just kiss to break the tension" type of post: fic characters: floyd additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, pre book 3, kissing, yuu is very much canon yuu here lol a part of this event

Riddle's noble efforts to warn you about Floyd Leech had fallen on deaf ears.

"And stay out of trouble!" were his exact words, if you remembered correctly.

You'd almost scoffed.

You had already been at NRC for months; you'd fought monsters, solved mysteries, and come out of all of it in one piece.

You could handle a history of magic project.

Sure, this is your first mixed-year assignment; and yes, the project itself makes up a great portion of your semester grade...

...but if anyone had asked you, you'd say that a measly school presentation is nothing compared to what you've already been through.

"Remember not to play along with his antics; it only encourages him,"

Riddle had wasted no time lecturing you about your mysterious project partner the second his name left your lips.

You'd come to him to ask if he knew the guy, not his entire life story.

"Stay focused... and stay out of trouble!"

Trouble. Ha. Every second at NRC since you'd arrived had been trouble.

You walk into the library; like usual, it's mostly empty.

Floyd Leech, Floyd Leech... now, where would...?

"Hey, you!"

You turn on your heels to face the source of the shout; leaning against a bookshelf behind you is the tallest boy you've ever seen.

He even gives off the vague impression of towering over you, making you feel small regardless...

"Man, I almost didn't see 'ya, you're so tiny," he grins, baring a row of sharp teeth. "I'm gonna call you Shrimpy. Now, come onnn, I've been waiting forever!"

You're early. Before you can say as much, he grabs you by the forearm and drags you off to a table.

"Alright, Shrimpy," he says, taking a seat across from you. "What's on the docket for today?"

"Uhh..." you're still slightly dazed. He's got some energy, that's for sure.

Riddle's words flash through your mind.

"...Well, I was thinking we could find our material first, then outline..."

"Reading?" Floyd asks, slumping in his seat as if he'd just received terrible news.

You blink. "...Well, we're going to have to read a little,"

He groans, loudly. A few people in the library turn to stare before awkwardly shuffling away.

"...Nah, I'm not in the mood. Let me do 'somethin else,"

What had Riddle said yesterday? "He changes his mind at the drop of a hat. Arguing is no good,"

"...Okay," you say, tentatively reading his expression. "I'll start with the outline. Do you want to look for pictures instead?"

He's quiet, as if seriously considering the pros and cons of the offer, and then he shrugs.

You sigh. Riddle was just being overdramatic. This is fine!

Floyd becomes lost in his assigned job, leafing through an atlas in search of a map from the time period you're researching, leaving you to your reading.

It'd be an easier job with two people, but...

"You're real quiet, Shrimpy,"

You look up from your encyclopedia. He'd shoved the atlas aside, his eyes fixed on you instead.

You raise an eyebrow. "I'm reading...?"

"Aw. Don't tell me you're the serious type?" a loud, dramatic sigh follows. "I was hoping we could have some fun. I was really looking forward to meeting you and all..."

You have to remind yourself that you have a reputation here. Great...

"Well, sorry to disappoint, but I'm a pretty boring person. Normal,"

Floyd's brow furrows. "Nah, I don't buy that. You wanna know what I think?"

You don't like this. The way he's looking at you, like he sees something you don't...

"...I think you only act normal 'cause you're afraid of being judged. You try way too hard to be a good student and stuff 'cause you wanna fit in here,"

Ouch. You blink, momentarily stunned to silence. He could tell all that just from watching you read?

"I'm just 'sayin," he gives you another sharp smile. "I wouldn't mind if you stopped acting all serious around me. You're way too tense."

"...Tense? I am not tense,"

Your denial only encourages him. A wide grin creeps across his face.

"Yeah, you know. You could feel the stress in this place from a mile away...

...Maybe we should just kiss to break the tension,"

Riddle had drilled you for hours; Floyd stealing your things, making you chase him, getting bored and leaving, a thousand possible situations that could come out of a simple study session...

...This was not one of them.

Floyd grins again, wider this time. "Ahah, never mind. You're way too boring and normal for something like that, right?"

You suddenly feel hot; he's putting you on the spot, and he knows it. He seems to be living for your agitation.

"Hey, that's not fair-"

"Fair schmair," he cuts in. "I gave you a dare, and you can't do it. Happens all the time to you, I bet. It's-"

Riddle had warned you, several times, quite clearly, not to play along.

But... in your defense...

Floyd giggles against your lips, the delighted little noise giving away a hint of surprise. His hands, cold and clammy but nice nonetheless, grab hold of your face, drawing you closer into the kiss. He's threatening to pull you across the table at this point...

...It's a good thing you chose a time when the library would be empty.

After a minute or two, he lets go, leaving you breathless with another smile.

"I knew you had it in 'ya," he says, reaching across the table to pull the encyclopedia back towards him.

"My turn to read, okay? I was getting bored of the pictures,"

[otome-dissection]

Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.

It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).

It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.

(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).

It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).

It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.

It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.

It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.

She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)

It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.

It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.

Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.

On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)

[elusivecagedmockingbird]

Untitled

[jungkook x reader]

"You wanna know about art? When the class president starts touching my face on darkened street corners, and talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal."

Or THE popular fuckboy in your campus suddenly signs up as the figure model to one of your extracurricular activities and starts showing his interest in you.

A/N: I'm not sure where I went with this. Thus, untitled. I'm not even sure where this falls in the tags. But, enjoy!

-

Jungkook is at odds with himself.

Part of him wants to leave and forget about this stupid idea. He doesn't know what compelled him to listen to Jin. What exactly does the old man know about dating anyway? As far as he knows, he's never seen him with the same girl, so maybe he should have reached out to Namjoon instead. The other part is hyping himself up. In about a few minutes, you’ll be coming through those doors. It would be too late to back out now.

He chugs his bottled water as if he were thirsty. Jungkook thinks he'll pass out from anxiety. If not that, then from how warm it is inside this garage turned makeshift studio.

He feels the beads of sweat trickle down his back and pits.

This is not good.

The class is about to start and he'll be stripping down to his boxers and he's all sweaty. Thinking about that uneventful possibility makes him sweat more.

Fuck.

He notices someone walk towards the corner he has been hiding in. Judging by how good-looking his face is and the vintage clothing he wears, Jungkook surmises this must be the Senior organizing this art class. Taeyong? Taehyun?

Ah, Taehyung, he remembers just before the elder stands infront of him.

"You're Jungkook, right?"

Jungkook only nods as a response. His dry throat keeps him from speaking, afraid he squeaks out a reply and embarrasses himself more.

Thankfully, the other man is kind enough to not assume his silence as being standoffish.

"Nervous, huh?" Taehyung smirks, but Jungkook doesn't feel like he's being provoked. Rather, it actually calms him—at least the idea that it must be a common occurrence for models to exude this much anxiety that it's the first question people assume.

"That obvious?" He squeaks before clearing his throat. "Do all models get nervous on their first time?" Jungkook finally grounds his voice. Albeit, a bit meek for someone with a strong commanding aura and in a leather jacket.

Taehyung smiles and nods. "More than you expect. Which is understandable. Jin hyung told me you're doing this to learn more about art?"

No, he isn't, he internally protests. He doesn't know what Jin told Taehyung. The real reason he's here on a Sunday, as a supposed 'volunteer' model for a drawing class, is because of you.

The rest, he let Jin fill it out so Jungkook can secure the spot.

But of course, he wouldn't divulge those. So, Jungkook once again clears his throat before responding with a meek 'yes' as he shoots his empty water bottle in the can, making a clanging noise. He smiles sheepishly at the circled crowd whose attention he caught. He cringes at how much he's going out of his way to act cool. He's never this way, and yet, he wants to make sure you witness him with his best foot forward today.

Jungkook sways on the balls of his feet, taking in the space when he sees you—just as you were hooking your bag in your chair.

Goddamn, you're pretty. He's watching you laugh with another girl stationed near your table as you lay out your tools.

"Ready when you are." Taehyung breaks him out of his trance, and he replies with a sheepish nod—hoping he wasn't caught staring at you.

Jungkook starts by taking off his shoes, then his leather jacket. He unbuttons his pants with briefs in tow and the thought that you would be looking at his crotch makes him blush. He shamelessly imagines you and him as Jack and Rose in that sketching scene. But, before he can pull his jeans down, a booming baritone voice hollers at him.

Taehyung hurries towards him. "What the fuck are you doing?"

Jungkook freezes at the sudden aggression. His mouth puckers open and close like a fish coming up for air, as he struggles to come up with a reply.

Taehyung tilts his head and assesses the young man with a pout. "Did Seokjin not tell you this isn't a nude class? We just need you to strip to your shirt and jeans," Taehyung clarifies in a whisper.

Embarrassment floods Jungkook and he sputters out an apology. He silently curses himself between nervous laughs and incoherent words of what seemed to be apologies. Shy doe eyes peeps at you and the confused and scandalized look painted on your face makes him want to get swallowed by the ground and never reappear in front of you ever again.

You must think he’s some kind of a creep or worse, a flasher. With a big exhale, he tries to set aside the embarrassment and go through this. It's already bad enough that his nerves and recent embarrassment made a sweat stain on his shirt.

Not long after, Jungkook stands in the middle of the circle of easels. It actually isn't bad, he thinks. Most of the time, he's staring at wood stands and the occasional heads peeking out of the canvas.

You're on his side, so he can only see you through his peripheral vision. Even so, he can already visualize the vein popping on your forehead when you concentrate—just one of the things he adores on your face.

That afternoon, Jungkook finds out he likes the thought of you paying this much attention and focus on him, instead of the other way around.

He holds his growing smile at bay.

-

The hour-long class went quicker than Jungkook wanted. He takes his time picking up his jacket and pretends to search for something in his bag as he waits for you to pack up. However, you never rise from your seat.

It takes Taehyung tapping your shoulder to bring you out of your world. "You still get tomorrow, Y/N," he hears Taehyung remind you before walking around the room, checking progress.

Jungkook didn't mean to eavesdrop more, but when you stood up and followed Taehyung, he couldn't help but tune in to your conversation.

"I need a little more time to fix a few edges. Can I just extend for a while? I'll clean up the supplies room." You bargain, voice kept low as if you're making an illegal trade with Taehyung.

Jungkook hears the older man sigh and call your name softly. "You still have tomorrow to work on it, and the next few days. Plus, I can't suddenly ask the model to stay just for you."

You whine petulantly like a child and Jungkook wonders if he can make you whine under different situations. Perhaps, under hi—

"He can go. I just need—"

The moment he makes out your reply, Jungkook was quick to cut you off and offer his time. "I can stay for a while."

Both you and Taehyung turn your heads to face the man who looks like a deer caught in the headlights, but he might as well have been. Your glowered confused eyes stare into him. "I-if you want," he stutters, so he tries to salvage his image with an obviously feigned nonchalant shrug.

Taehyung holds back his laugh but the sudden expulsion of air from his nose wasn't amiss, earning a side eye from you.

"No need," you answer with finality. "You get paid by the hour, right? I can't pay you and—"

"You don't have to pay me. I'm offering for free." Jungkook internally winces at how quick he was in offering himself. But if he were being honest, he would stay in this shoddy garage all night, through the blazing summer heat, as long as it's time spent with you.

Is it a crime that he's quick to take an opportunity when it has presented itself?

He thinks abso-fucking-lutely not.

Your eyebrows furrow, the 'I wasn't done talking' death glare you directed at Jungkook has him shift awkwardly on his foot and look everywhere else but at you.

"Still, I'd get in trouble for requesting more time, anyway. Can't have other students think Taehyung here has favorites." You press and it chips a bit of his confidence. It was obvious you didn't want him to stay. If he keeps insisting, you might think he's creepy.

Jungkook didn't want to seem too pushy anyway, and so, lets out a defeated "Oh.." and nods. His round eyes making it easy to see his dismay as it curves downwards a little at the sides.

"I wouldn't worry about that," Taehyung intervenes. The older man was amused as he watched Jungkook flounder around you, he also knows how oblivious and dismissive you are of guys like Jungkook to a fault. And so, he helps.

Ah, young love, Taehyung muses. "Just make sure to clean up and lock up after, like you promised." He tosses the keys to you, but you make no movement of catching it, letting the keys hit your chest and fall to the ground.

Now your glare is directed towards your sunbaenim. "On second thought, I'm wrapping it up for tonight then." You head towards your easel to pack up your stuff.

Taehyung sighs.

He tells Jungkook to wait a bit and pick up the keys as he follows after you, calling your name.

“Just take the guy's offer to help. He’s trying to learn more about art, too,” he whispers, arms crossing across his chest. "Isn't this the piece you're submitting with your application? I know that head of yours will run nonstop if you don't finish what you intended to do tonight." Taehyung nudges you with a smile and softly jabs his pointer finger to your temple, making you chuckle with a pout. You shoo his hand away from your face and he knows he got you to stay.

This Jungkook kid owes him, Taehyung thinks.

However, from where Jungkook stands, he sees you breaking out the cutest smile at Taehyung. His eyes even going bigger at what he believes is an affectionate touch to your face when Taehyung boops your forehead.

Is that even ethical or something, he wonders irately. Taehyung isn't much older but given that he's your sunbaenim, Jungkook thinks he shouldn't be doing that. Or even be standing close to you. He's currently throwing imaginary lasers at Taehyung's back when you both turn to him and he immediately unsquints his eyes.

"Jungkook, do you still want to stay?" Taehyung shouts at the young man.

Yes.

A hundred times yes. He's a lovesick loyal puppy and if you ask him to bark, he'll bark for you.

Jungkook nods enthusiastically and rushes closer to where you stand, eager to wedge himself between you and Taehyung.

-

"Jungkook," you sigh his name tiredly. "I really need you to stop moving your head. Is there something more interesting behind me?" The question was rhetorical, but you're starting to wonder what he keeps on staring at behind you that you turn your head, only to be greeted with a wall filled with hanged canvases.

You hear him mumble out a you with a smirk, but was quick to cover it up with a sorry. This guy think he was slick.

Jungkook turns his head to assume his supposed pose. His eyes still filled with mirth. And he lasts about four minutes before his head starts turning towards you. Again.

You throw your head forward with an exhausted groan. This was a mistake. You're growing more frustrated by the minute. Maybe you should call it a night.

Looking back up at your model, you tell him he can leave.

Jungkook breaks his stance then quickly poses as he quickly persuades you. "No, I'll stay still. Look," he promises and follows through quickly by holding the pose.

"No, I'm just really too tired for tonight. Thank you for staying a bit longer." You busy yourself by grabbing at your stuff, cleaning pencil shards here and there to keep the lurking unease.

You can't have a breakdown here again, you admonish yourself. And it's going to feel worse after if Jungkook's here to see it happen. You keep your head down while your hands wipe the charcoal dust on the table.

You hear footsteps nearing you, and you pray to whoever listens that he's not actually coming closer. He calls your name, his voice close and soft. You hum in response, head still hung low, refusing to face him.

Jungkook sees you rubbing an eraser at a blank surface and purses his lips. He finally got the chance to spend time with you and he was hoping to break the ice and get closer to you, but he does this—he upset you and wasted your time. You're not gonna want to spend more time with him after this.

"I-I'm sorry. I really wanted to help. I can stay again tomorrow to make up for tonight," he offers. Everything about him screams eagerness and he must really be interested in art to be willing to stay in the garage-slash-studio during this Summer heat.

You feel the tingling pressure in your throat and your lips quiver. You clear your throat and will away the tears before it breaks through your paper wall.

"No. You did great, Jungkook. I'm just not feeling well tonight." Your voice was too soft, but at least it didn't break.

Jungkook walks around you and turns to face you, hands making contact with your shoulder. "Are you sick? I have some medicine in my bag," he offers. He retracts his hand and unzips his bag to take out whatever medicine he had stashed inside.

It's his genuine concern that does it for you. You suddenly sob and cover your face with your hands.

"Oh, Y/N, are you okay? Does something hurt?" He didn't expect this. Jungkook was taken aback and his worried eyes looked for signs of where you could have been hurt.

Your sobs turned to full-on bawling and Jungkook was quick to take you into his arms. He lets you cry and occasionally whispers assurances between your weeping despite not knowing why you suddenly burst into tears.

In that moment, you stood illuminated by harsh yellowish fluorescent lights like a Gustav Klimt painting on display. The A/C humming noise drowned out by your hiccups and his whispers.

You were the first to pull away. He didn't mean to, but the moment you separated from Jungkook and lowered your hands from your face, he laughed.

Offended at his reaction, you push him away and quickly gather your bag hanging on the chair.

"Wait," he calls for you as he fumbles to pick up the bag he let fall to the floor.

He calls your name but you decidedly ignore him, feet shuffling quickly to leave the garage.

Fucking ass, you think. You're mortified. You already dread tomorrow as your imagination runs wild. What if he tells his friends about your ugly crying? You think you don't care what frat guys think, but you still definitely don't want to be the talk of the campus. You've only transferred here last year and after being briefed by your friend on who to avoid, you made sure not to have a run in with guys like Jungkook.

This is exactly why you were holding everything in earlier. Every stereotype of frat guys being huge assholes behind the charming facade were true.

A flash of high school memories ambush you and you just want to get to your dorm and hide under your blankets. You'll just have to miss tomorrow's class, you plan.

You violently shrug when you feel a hand grip your wrist.

"Hey, will you wait," Jungkook pleads. You turn to face him and see him reach something in his pockets.

Fuck. He's not going to take a photo, isn't he?

You were ready to lunge at him, anything to prevent him from taking a snap at your post-bawl blotched face, when all of sudden, a soft cloth touched your face.

Jungkook chuckles at your startled face.

"You have charcoal smudged all over your face," he points out. His bunny teeth peeks through his curved lips and the sides of his eyes wrinkle from amusement.

"Oh." You visibly flinch when he uses his thumb to brush the apple of your cheeks.

"There," he smiles, eyes fixated on his finger caressing your skin.

"You know you really have pretty eyes."

If you were in a romantic movie, his line would have panned out well. But you're not, so cue the sound of glass breaking to signify a shattered moment.

To think, you bought his act. You thought, here's a deviant frat boy species. Maybe not all of them are only interested in girls and booze. You even thought this Jeon Jungkook isn't so bad.

Until he says that.

Breaking away and stepping back from him, you humorlessly laugh in disbelief.

"You're a fucking cliché, Jungkook. Does this babble usually work on chicks?" You take a look at him and he has the audacity to look unaware of how hokey the situation is.

"Wha—" Poor boy couldn't even finish his sentence, you thought.

"Y/N, I'm not following."

You were about to make a joke on flies flying straight to his agape mouth but you hold yourself back. Instead, you make a gesture of shaking your head as you force out another dry laugh. You look at him one last time and walk away from the frat boy once again.

You hear his footsteps follow you, along with calls of your name. "Did I say something wrong?"

You stop as you reach the threshold—you're almost out of the garage and out into the cold dark night, ready to rush into the safety of your dorm and away from sleazy college boys.

But something in you compels you to turn, and so you do. "Yes, Jungkook. You did." Your hands grip your bag tighter, feet taking a couple of steps back into the garage, to the shoddy light so he can see you.

"Did you really think this charming ‘oh-i’m-clueless act was going to drop panties? You wanna know about art?" You hurl the question; voice no longer shaky and unsure. "When the campus playboy starts touching my face on dimly lit spaces, and starts talking about my eyes, there's a word for it. There's an entire movement in the 20's—it's called surreal." You roll your eyes at him before making your exit.

It takes a minute for Jungkook to get his body to move. And when he does, you're already a distance away. Almost gone from his sight.

This is the second time today that you rendered him immobile and speechless. Just what the fuck did he do?

-

Meanwhile, you cursed at Jeon Jungkook on your entire walk home. Fuck him and his round innocent eyes for throwing the bees and butterflies in your stomach into chaos.

You tell yourself you dodged a bullet and that was just a ploy for him to get into your pants. You should actually congratulate yourself for turning away one of the notorious womanizers. Your roommate would be proud of you.

Still, you couldn't deny the jolt you felt in your chest when he touched your face and spewed those cheesy lines about your eyes.

You grunt as you slam the door to your dorm.

"Damn. Who pissed you off?" Jihyo, your roommate stares at you across her table.

You heave a sigh of exhaustion and plop yourself on the carpeted floor. "Had a run in with a frat guy," you spit with a scowl. "You remember the guy you were talking about last week? Jungkook? He's the model for this week."

"Seriously? That's..." Jihyo's head tilted sideways as she looked for the right word, brows furrowing. "Out of character for him."

You raise your head and prop your arms to face your roommate. "Right? That's what I thought, but Taehyung said he was interested in learning art."

At this, Jihyo pauses while eating and guffaws. "Is he for real?"

You roll your eyes at no one in particular and rest your head on your palms as your other hand plucks at the carpet. "Nah, I'm pretty sure he was just there to pick up girls."

Jihyo squints at you, suddenly alert as she senses something you haven't told her yet.

"He hit on me," you start. Already growing flustered at the recollection of the afternoon. "You know those cheesy lines from romcoms, he actually used them on me." You went on detail by detail about what happened and ended your story with a shudder. "This is the first time I might dread going to the class."

"Yep, I see why he thinks he could get away with the cheesiest line," Jihyo murmurs. Apparently, during your story, Jihyo picked up her phone and started to stalk Jungkook's profile. "I mean shame it wasn't nude because have you seen this body?" She flips her phone so you can see her screen.

"What? That's not Jungkook." You stand from your spot and walk closer to Jihyo and snatch the phone. "This isn't Jungkook."

"What are you talking about? That’s literally his profile,” Jihyo takes her phone back, wanting to take another look if you’re looking at the same thing. “See, Kim Jongkook. He’s the notorious fuck boy, probably in all departments. Good thing is, he’s graduating this year.”

Oh, fuck.

-

>> Still Untitled

[m1ckeyb3rry]

Series Synopsis: A series of (mostly) unrelated one shots, featuring Oliver Aiku somehow getting involved with the love lives of various Blue Lock characters — whether he wants to or not.

Chapter Synopsis: Oliver Aiku isn’t sure which entity he’s wronged to earn this kind of treatment, but somehow, in the days before the match against Blue Lock, he’s stuck watching over the team’s newest addition: Sae Itoshi, a rude midfielder who’d rather be in Spain (or in hell) than hanging out with him. Things get a little more complicated, though, when a cup of shitty coffee leads to a crush and Aiku is forced to intervene.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Sae x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.9k

Content Warnings: crack fic, sae my awkward goat, love at first sight, oliver aiku is such a bitch but he’s funny so it’s kind of okay, reader has to work in customer service 😓, this is really dumb please don’t judge my writing off of it, sae is 100% ooc don’t come at me i KNOWWW, split perspectives (it makes sense in the story), sae slander (from aiku), reader is a fan girl but she keeps it 𝖓𝖔𝖓𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖓𝖙, reader’s dad has cameos but he’s just chilling tbh

A/N: the people wanted sae’s version to be posted first so uhhh here we are!! LMAO it kind of got a bit long (as usual) but it’s very silly and goofy!! anyways so this is the first entry in “oliver aiku’s guide to getting girls” i hope you all stick around for the rest 🤩‼️

Oliver Aiku likes to think he’s a fairly nice guy. He visits his grandmother every weekend, he rescues kittens from gutters (okay, it only happened once, but he still did it, so it counts), and he’s good enough at being captain of the Japanese U-20s that none of his teammates really hate him, so all in all, he can’t be doing that bad of a job. Yeah, he’s pretty sure he’s a great person, a stand-up fellow, an upstanding member of society — so why the fuck is Sae Itoshi glaring at him like that?

“What?” he says, because it was fine for the first, say, twenty minutes or so, but now it’s gone from annoying to just plain concerning. “Something going on with you?”

Sae stares at him for a moment longer, and Aiku wonders if he’s trying to communicate via telepathy. That’s a skill he’s never picked up, though, so he can only wait for Sae to speak up, which, thankfully, he eventually does.

“This coffee is shit,” he says. The way he speaks is dull and blank, his lips pinched together and his brows low over his eyes. It’s kind of a shame, in Aiku’s highly professional opinion. He’d be handsome if he smiled more; or, if not handsome, at least approachable enough to not scare away every single girl that dared to even glance at him.

“It’s not my fault,” Aiku says. “Take it up with the barista or something.”

“You’re the one who brought me here, so it is your fault,” Sae says. Aiku crosses his arms, because isn’t Sae younger than him? This feels like a level of disrespect he shouldn’t tolerate, prodigy or not.

“Nuh-uh,” he says. In hindsight, it’s not the most mature response he could’ve come up with, and Sae seems to agree, snorting derisively before using a napkin to dab at a drip of coffee running down the side of his cup.

“What a captain,” he says with a sigh. “No wonder you guys need me to play for you against those Blue Lock idiots.”

Aiku should be offended, he really should be — and he is! He is, and he’s just about to muster up some scathing retort that’ll definitely leave Sae Itoshi trembling, but then Sae’s standing up with purpose, so now he’s just intrigued instead of insulted. He follows after him as Sae holds the coffee in one hand and marches towards the counter, and when he realizes what’s about to happen, he preemptively cringes.

“Don’t yell at service workers!” Aiku says. It would’ve been heroic if he had said it loud enough for Sae to hear him, but unfortunately, it’s more of a whisper than the brave shout he had intended for it to be, so he just looks kind of stupid, as if he regularly talks to himself or something.

“Hey,” Sae says to the boy at the counter. He’s young, probably no more than fifteen or sixteen, and Aiku prays that he’s not the target of Sae’s ire. “Who made this?”

The boy squints at Sae’s cup, reading the receipt, and then he smiles innocently. “That was Y/N. Did you want to talk to her?”

“Yes,” Sae says bluntly. Aiku is about to thank whichever deity was watching over him and that boy alike, but he pauses when the rest of the kid’s statement registers. Her? Her? Is Sae seriously about to yell at a girl for making bad coffee? If she’s hot, he’ll kill Sae, no doubt about it. “And tell her to make it quick. We don’t have all day, and she’s already wasted enough of our time.”

Yeah, he’s definitely going to kill him. 

“Y/N,” a voice whispers. You’re untying your apron — your shift is just about over, and you’re ready to clock out, but for some reason your young coworker is peering into the kitchen nervously and gesturing for you to come with him. Normally, you’d tell him to handle things himself, but he’s new, so you decide to be responsible for once and follow after him, muttering curses to yourself as you retie your apron.

“What’s the matter? Did you spill something?” you say. He shakes his head, raising his hand and pointing at the counter, where two customers are waiting. You frown, because you’re pretty sure you already gave them their drinks, so there’s no reason for them to be standing there, unless maybe they want to reorder. “Wait. Did you call me to take their order? No way! My shift is over in thirty seconds!”

“No, no, I didn’t,” your coworker says. “They want to talk to you.”

“Me? Like me, specifically?” you say. He nods.

“Yeah, they asked for you by name and everything,” he says earnestly. “I think they’re mad, though.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, because the last thing you want to do is deal with a couple of prissy customers, especially not when you’re supposed to be heading home already. However, your coworker seems to be on the verge of tears, and some kind of sisterly affection tugs at your heartstrings, so you pat him on the shoulder and take his spot at the counter.

“Hi, this is Y/N. My coworker told me you needed to see me. How can I help you?” you say. Your voice is chipper and your smile is false, but they don’t need to know that. You’ve been working at the coffee shop for long enough that you’re practiced at pretending, and you know for a fact that your coworker is standing shyly at your side, probably astonished by the quality of your performance.

For a moment, neither man speaks, so you get to stare at them and make your own assumptions about who they are and what their backstories might be. It’s kind of like a hobby, a pastime for when things are slow or you’re generally annoyed about your job. You’ve developed it over the years, and luckily, these two are prime candidates for the game.

The one on the left is tall and broad, with dark hair and mysterious eyes. Curiously, one is a bright green, while the other is a softer violet, and there’s a few-days-old stubble growing on his square face, like a shadow running along his jaw. It gives him a rough appearance, like he owns a motorcycle and frequently wears leather jackets, but you want to believe that he’s gentle at heart. Maybe he has a fondness for baby animals or he likes to bake cookies or something along those lines.

The one on the right is shorter than his counterpart, and his hair is red like a sunset, pushed carelessly out of his haughty face. He’s wearing a sweater that matches his eyes, though the teal of the knitted fabric is much more muted, and you’re about to come up with some kind of fantastical explanation for who he might be when you realize that you know him.

He clears his throat, and you scramble to stand up straighter, internally screaming, because what are the odds that you’ve somehow managed to piss off the star player of your favorite soccer club’s youth team? You wonder what your father will think of you now. You wonder what you think of yourself now. What should you do? Should you tell him you recognize him? Ask for an autograph? Or should you play it cool and pretend like you don’t know him? What if he yells at you?

Actually, you wouldn’t mind it as much as normally do. When everyday customers start screaming at you for some perceived wrong that you’ve supposedly committed, you typically tune them out, and then you make fun of them with your coworkers in the back, but if it’s Sae Itoshi…well. you’ll certainly listen to every word he says, and when you return to the kitchen, you’ll write them down somewhere so you can remember the moment forever.

“He didn’t like his drink,” he says, pointing at the dark haired man.

“What?” the man shrieks. The pitch is higher than you would’ve expected from someone of his size, but it appears he realizes that, too, because then he’s coughing. “I mean, what? What are you talking about?”

“You were just complaining, Aiku,” Sae says. “You even made me come up here and get mad at this girl for you.”

The other man, who you guess is named Aiku, is turning a strange shade between magenta and beet-red, and you’re surprised there isn’t steam coming out of his ears. Given that you don’t really care about him that much, you’re instantly irritated again, because why would it matter if he didn’t like his drink? Still, you have to keep up appearances.

“My apologies, sir. Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?” you say. 

“No!” Aiku says. “No, it’s — hey, Sae, you were the one who was all upset, so why are you putting it on me?”

“Hm?” Sae says, obviously uninterested in the conversation already. “I dunno. Maybe it happened like that, or maybe not.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, more than a little bewildered. “Ah, I’m new here, so I’m still learning.”

Aiku, who has returned to a more normal and human color, smiles at you kindly, and he’s about to respond, ostensibly to reassure you, but then your damned coworker pipes up: “No, she’s not.”

“Ah, sorry?” Aiku says.

“She’s not new,” your coworker says again.

“‘New’ is a subjective term,” you say mechanically, wishing that it was acceptable for you to turn around and hit him in public whenever you wanted.

“I don’t think anyone would consider you to be new when you’ve been working here for three years,” your coworker says. You can imagine the innocent, guileless expression on his face right now. You want to do something violent to it.

“Ha, ha,” you say. You think your eye might twitch, too, but if Aiku or Sae notice, then neither of them point it out. “What a knowledgeable fellow we have back here.”

“It’s alright,” Aiku says. “I didn’t mind the drink. Sae’s the one who threw a fit about it.”

“I liked it,” Sae says stubbornly. “It was fine.”

You step in before Aiku can turn magenta again, because that’s probably unhealthy for him, and you don’t want to be held liable for a customer dying on your watch when you’re not even being paid for it.

“Anyways, is that all? I’m actually done with my shift, so if you guys don’t need anything else…” you trail off, though inside you’re screaming something along the lines of Sae Itoshi, please notice me and give me your autograph and oh, if you could fall in love with me, too, that would be amazing!

Of course, you can’t verbalize anything like that, so you just smile and wave until the door slams shut behind them. Then you’re yanking your apron off and balling it up before chucking it at your coworker’s face. It hits him in the nose and slides to the ground; he gives you an offended look before picking it up.

“You’re lucky it was only an apron,” you say. “You owe me big time, you little shit.”

“Huh?” he says.

“I won’t forget this!” you warn him, stomping towards the small locker room, where your precious phone is waiting for you. “You’re a major-league jerk, okay? Don’t ever ask me to cover another shift for you again!”

“Huh?” 

“What the hell was that?” Aiku snaps as soon as they’ve left the cafe, because this is totally not what he was expecting when his coach told him that he had to treat Sae nicely and make him feel welcome. 

“What was what?” Sae says. He’s sipping on his coffee sedately now, even though he was complaining about it only minutes earlier.

“Since when was I the one who was upset about my coffee?” Aiku says.

“I have a bad memory,” Sae deadpans. “I guess it could’ve been either of us.”

“That was not believable in the slightest,” Aiku feels the need to inform him. Judging by Sae’s expression, it wasn’t meant to be believable, though, and Aiku sighs. “Seriously, what’s your deal? You were just going crazy and glaring at me because you thought the coffee sucked, and now you think it’s good?”

“I should’ve waited for it to cool,” Sae says. “It’s better now. I was being hasty.”

“Uh-huh,” Aiku says. “Sure. Let’s do something else tomorrow. I don’t ever want to go back there. I don’t think I can face that girl again. She was so hot, too, and now she probably thinks I’m some ungrateful asshole…”

“I want to go back,” Sae says immediately, throwing the now-empty cup into the nearest trash can. Aiku furrows his brow at him, trying to puzzle out this latest contradiction and finding himself utterly unable to. “Tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Aiku repeats dubiously. Tomorrow he has practice, and technically so does Sae. However, they both know that Sae doesn’t need anything as ridiculous as practice in order to win against a team of eleven high-school forwards, and he’s fairly confident that his coach will tell him to accompany the bratty Itoshi instead of showing up, since the JFU is pulling out all of the stops if it means getting Sae to stay in Japan for good.

“Tomorrow,” Sae reaffirms.

I’m a nice guy, Aiku tries to remind himself. This is what nice guys do. I’m boosting team morale. Yeah. That’s all. Captain’s duties.

Still, as he chases after Sae, who apparently doesn’t know what the word ‘stroll’ means and prefers to do everything at a brisk pace more akin to a jog, he thinks that this entire ridiculous assignment feels more like a babysitter’s duties than anything. 

“Are you serious?” your father says. In the background, the TV is playing a game between Re Al and Barcha, which is rather fitting.

“Deadly,” you say, untying the laces of your sneakers and putting them with the rest of your shoes. “It was actually him.”

“Sae Itoshi,” he says, shaking his head. “He’s back from Spain?”

“Seems like it,” you say, though now that he mentions it, you’re as confused as he is. Why is Sae Itoshi here instead of Madrid? You glance at the TV — Barcha has just scored, and the cameras are sweeping through the crowds, showing the excited fans cheering — and wonder if maybe he was fired or something. You doubt that that’s what happened; after all, he’s a consistent player, and the last time he was in a match, he even managed to outmaneuver that freaky striker who plays for Bastard München, so it would make zero sense for Re Al to let him go. Besides, even if they did, you’re sure there’s dozens of clubs that would be willing to take him, so there must be another reason for his presence in Japan.

“Huh,” your father says. “Well. Good for him.” 

“I guess so,” you say. “If I ever see him again, I’ll ask him what he’s doing in town.”

Your father chuckles, taking a sip of his beer and giving you a thumbs up. “Yeah, you do that. Let me know what he says.”

You laugh, too, sitting down at the counter and eating a plate of reheated leftovers, because you know as well as your father that the idea of you ever seeing Sae Itoshi again is more than a little far-fetched. But it’s a nice thought, and anyways the chances are never zero, so for the moment, you allow yourself to imagine. 

Aiku is seriously questioning if Sae Itoshi was sent to this earth — or at least to this country — as some kind of punishment for him. He’s not really sure what’s done that would invite such cosmic retribution, but maybe it’s one of those…what did that girl call them? Karmic debts? She had said something about the sins of his past life and all, though he can’t recall the specifics.

Wait. That’s wrong. He just never learnt them in the first place, so how could he remember them in the first place? He had broken up with her before she could explain her theories to him. This prompts a wince from him, which is further fueled by the way his t-shirt sticks to his back with sweat. It’s a distinctively uncomfortable feeling, and he’s contemplating complaining, even though it probably won’t do much.

“Shut up,” Sae says.

“I didn’t say anything!” Aiku protests, more than a little spooked, since he actually had been about to say something before Sae had cut him off.

“I can see you making faces at me,” Sae says. Considering Sae is walking ahead of him and to the side, Aiku’s not quite sure how he could tell anything about what sorts of faces Aiku is making, but unfortunately, he’s uncannily correct as always, so Aiku schools his expression into a smooth, neutral one that won’t beget reprimand from his companion.

“I can’t believe you insisted on going here straight after practice,” he says.

“This is the same time we went yesterday,” Sae says. He’s kind of an insufferable smart-ass, Aiku thinks to himself, though he’d never say as much to Sae’s face. After all, unlike his counterpart, he’s considerate like that, and he always has been.

“So? We didn’t have practice yesterday,” Aiku says. “You couldn’t even let me shower?”

“You take forever in the showers,” Sae says. This is rich, for Sae is notoriously obsessive with his skincare, and of the entire team, he takes far and away the longest to get ready. But, then again, Aiku supposes that idiocy is one of those illnesses which spreads further and further until all of one’s perspectives are tainted with the virus.

“I could’ve been quick,” he says. “It would’ve been better if I could’ve at least rinsed off so I didn’t look so gross. I want to impress that Y/N girl if she’s there again today.”

“You’re not her type,” Sae says dismissively. “So why bother?”

“How do you know? Are the two of you childhood buddies or something?” Aiku says. Sae glances at him, and of course he’s way too holier-than-thou to properly sneer, but the corners of his lips turn downwards to the same effect.

“Not too hard to figure out,” he says. 

“Well, hold on just a moment! I got the vibe that she was totally into me yesterday!” Aiku says. He actually did not get any such vibes from the barista; the only thing she seemed into was clocking out, but he’s Oliver Aiku. If he can’t get a girl, he can’t do anything. Besides, it’s not like Sae would be able to tell one way or another — Aiku and his teammate Sendou have a theory that Sae was created in a lab as some kind of experiment to make the world’s best midfielder, because the guy really doesn’t have any knowledge or concern for anything that’s unrelated to soccer.

True to form, Sae blinks unsurely. “Really?”

“Yeah, one hundred percent,” Aiku boasts, although then he’s narrowing his eyes, because such a question is so out of Sae’s character that for a moment, he wonders if there’s been a mistake and he’s actually taken some other team member of his along for this ridiculous errand.

Messy red hair. Teal eyes. Forehead creased with a frown. No, it’s definitely Sae Itoshi, that’s for sure. Just Sae Itoshi in a mood that he’s never seen before. If they were a little closer, he’d ask him what’s the big deal now, but as it is, the question would probably go unappreciated.

“Hm,” Sae says. “Whatever. We’ll see.”

“Sure,” Aiku says slowly, reaching out to hold open the door of the cafe so he can enter behind Sae, since his lovely, amazing, wonderful, kindhearted teammate so generously left it to slam shut in his face. 

What a total dick. He makes a mental note to ask the JFU for a raise, because whatever they’re giving him at the moment is definitely not enough. 

“They’re back again!” your coworker says. You’re still mad at him for yesterday, so you’ve been giving him the silent treatment the entire shift. It hasn’t gone unnoticed, but his pitiful attempts at reconciliation never include an apology, so you haven’t budged yet.

He waits for you to respond, but you’re pretty sure he’s making stuff up to get you to pay attention to him, and anyways they could be in reference to anyone, so you continue to pour milk into a cup, acting like it’s an all-consuming task which you cannot possibly complete without the utmost of concentration.

“I’m being serious! Y/N, it’s Sae Itoshi and, uh, that other dude!” he says. Your hand wobbles for the briefest moment, but you conclude that he’s most likely lying, so you steady yourself and continue pouring the milk. “Fine, be that way! I’ll serve them myself!”

You can’t even say something snarky in response, because that’ll still be a win on his part, so you huff particularly loudly to no one in particular and leave it at that.

A few minutes later, he’s back, looking so contrite that if you weren’t upset with him, you’d actually be worried. Unfortunately, you very much are upset with him, so you find it on the whole to be rather hilarious and have to suppress a laugh. 

He must take your amusement as a signal to talk, because he speaks eagerly and quickly, stumbling over his words and clasping his hands together in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N, they’re insisting on seeing you, I told them you’re working right now — I’m sorry, I’m not supposed to do that, right? But I did, and now they really want to see you!” he says.

You’re still not entirely convinced, but if this is an act, then it’s a dedicated one, and you don’t think that he possesses that much dedication in all of his body, so maybe he’s actually telling the truth.

“Fine,” you say. “But if you’re lying, I swear I’m telling our manager to fire you.”

“I’m not!” he squeaks, darting back to the counter, rocking back and forth on his heels as he waits for you to catch up to him.

When you reach the front, you’re surprised to see that it is in fact Sae Itoshi and…whoever that other guy is. Aiku? Yes, that sounds right. It’s Sae and Aiku, and one looks supremely inconvenienced — this would be Sae, of course — while his friend is running a hand through his sweaty hair, flashing you a grin.

You smile back at him, because that’s what you’re trained to do, and you don’t want your coworker to tattle to your manager that you’re not abiding by the cafe’s standards of customer service. Then you stare at them until one of them starts speaking, because that’s what your entire job is, and no matter how badly you want to start gushing to Sae Itoshi about how big of a fan you are, you have to remain professional.

“Is there anything I can do for you two?” you finally say. This prompts Aiku to nod, nudging Sae in the side, which earns him a dark glare.

“I want the number two, and he’ll take the number five,” Aiku says when Sae does not speak up. You want to tell him that nobody orders like that, but you’re not supposed to and it’s really not that big of a deal either way, so you just ring up the order.

“Sounds good. Would you like to pay with cash or credit?” you say.

“Credit,” Sae says, pulling out a card that probably has a monthly spending limit higher than what you make in a year. “And we’re splitting the bill, just so you know.”

What you want to say is Wow, Sae, you’re somehow even cooler in real-life! Who’s your favorite soccer player? What’s your favorite food? Do you like Spain better, or here? What you actually say is: “No problem. I’ll have those right out for you.”

“Thanks,” Aiku says. He’s kind of charming, in a sense; you can think of several friends you have that would probably swoon at the way his smile stretches across his face, but you don’t really see the appeal. Or, maybe you would normally, but at the moment, he’s standing next to Sae Itoshi, so it’s a little hard to focus on him at all.

“Yeah,” Sae says. “Thank you. Y/N.”

He’s probably just reading off of your name tag in an effort to seem more friendly and relatable and humble and all. It’s a classic PR move that he was probably taught as soon as he joined Re Al. You know about it, though, so it shouldn’t work on you. It won’t work on you. He’s just doing what he’s trained to, the same as you are.

It works on you. You run to the back and hide your face in your hands and squeal, because Sae fucking Itoshi just said your name. 

“Holy fucking shit,” Aiku says.

“Are we just listing curse words now?” Sae says dryly. “Bitch, cunt, hell. There’s three more for you.”

“You like the barista!” Aiku accuses. If Sae was drinking something, he would’ve spit it out just then, but he’s not, so he just chokes on his saliva. 

“No way,” he says.

“Yes, you do! How else can you explain this?” Aiku says, pitching his voice up in an imitation of Sae’s. “Yeah. Thank you. Y/N. Since when do you say thank you to people?”

“Since always? I have manners,” Sae says.

“I’ve never heard you say it,” Aiku says.

“Maybe that’s more telling about you than me,” Sae suggests. Aiku scowls at him.

“You definitely like her,” he says. “No judgment here, man. She’s pretty.”

“Whatever,” Sae says. “Even if I did like her — mind you, I don’t — she’s clearly into you.”

“Me?” Aiku says. “I was just messing with you earlier, you know. Anyways, yeah, I think she’s hot, but, like, you’ve never liked a girl before, right? So I wouldn’t get in the way of that. This is a big step.”

“You’re not getting in the way of anything. Do what you want,” Sae says. 

Aiku’s already pulling out his phone and texting Sendou: big news. Lab experiment just evolved. Feels attraction and jealousy now.

“Uh-huh,” he responds absentmindedly. Sendou texts back with about fifty mind-blown emojis, and he snickers to himself, liking the message.

“Anyways, who told you I’ve never liked anyone before?” Sae says defensively. Aiku just about drops his phone, leaning forwards in interest. Could it be? Are he and Sae actually bonding? Is Sae about to tell him about his first love — who apparently is not this barista?

“I just guessed. Was I wrong?” Aiku says. He’s already trying to come up with who Sae might’ve liked — a childhood neighbor or friend? A women’s soccer player he admired? A girl he saw once in Spain but never again? Oh, that last one is particularly romantic…he’s just about accepted it as fact when Sae glares at him.

“No,” he says. Aiku’s dreams are shattered in an instant, but he can only shake his head while chuckling, both because Sae has inadvertently admitted that he actually does like that Y/N girl, and because he was an idiot for believing that ‘Sae Itoshi’ and ‘romantic’ could ever belong together in one sentence.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 

“What do I do?” you say. You and your coworker are back on speaking terms, mostly because you have no one else to talk to and are so desperate that you’re willing to temporarily forgive him. 

“Make their drinks?” he says. You give him a dirty look as you begin mixing up their orders. 

“Not about that. I’m such a huge fan of Sae’s, and this is the second time I’m making a drink for him. It’s kind of like fate, don’t you think? Should I try to talk to him or something?” you say.

“Do you want to?” your coworker says. It’s a slower time of day, so he has nothing to do but sit and watch you — at least, nothing immediate. There’s certainly things he could be doing, but you’re not about to chide him when you’re the reason he’s slacking off.

“Obviously! But what am I supposed to even say? I’ll sound like a creep if I just start acting like a fan-girl!” you say.

“That’s true,” your coworker says. “You kind of sound like one even now…”

“Ugh, if you’re not going to be helpful, then go organize the storeroom or something!”

“What about her makes you like her?” Aiku presses.

“Are we still on this?” Sae says, as if they’ve been talking about it for hours. “I don’t like her.”

“It’s not like you talked to her for a while…was it really just her looks?” Aiku says. “Damn. Didn’t think you were the shallow type.”

“I am not the shallow type!” Sae says.

“That sounds like something that a shallow person would say,” Aiku teases.

“Shut up,” Sae says. Aiku doesn’t have enough fingers or toes to count how many times Sae’s said that particular phrase to him. Maybe if he counted all of the fingers and all of the toes of every single person in the world, he would get kind of close to what that number might be. “I’m not shallow, I don’t like her, and she’s obviously way more interested in talking to you than me, so get off my back.”

Aiku whistles. “Someone’s jealous.”

“I’m telling the JFU that you were the one who sent me back to Spain,” Sae informs him bluntly. Aiku isn’t sure if that’s a joke or a legitimate threat. It’s hard to tell with Sae sometimes.

“Are you serious?” Aiku says.

“Deadly,” Sae says.

Yep, Aiku decides. He’s serious. 

“If only that Aiku dude wasn’t there,” you lament, setting the first drink in the pick-up area and calling out Aiku’s name before returning to finish Sae’s drink. “It’d be way easier to talk to Sae without someone there to judge everything I’m saying.”

“Do you think he’d even care?” your coworker says. You shrug.

“No idea. It’s intimidating to talk to guys around their friends, though. You’re a guy yourself, so you wouldn’t get it,” you say.

“Are they even friends?” your coworker says. “Doesn’t seem like they get along that well.”

In unison, the two of you turn so you can look at the duo, who are sitting at a table right within your line of sight. As your coworker said, they don’t look like they’re friends in the slightest. Aiku is sipping on his drink with a smirk, and Sae looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, doing anything else, than be sitting there with his not-friend.

“The point still stands,” you say. 

“Guess so,” your coworker says. Just then, Sae Itoshi happens to glance over, making direct eye contact with you. Your eyebrows raise, and your face warms as you realize you’ve been caught. Aiku turns to follow Sae’s line of sight as you weigh your options. Should you pretend like you weren’t doing anything? Should you wave?

You decide to just smile again before returning to the drink you were supposed to be working on. Your coworker, who saw the entire exchange, cannot stop laughing.

“It’s over for you,” he says. “He definitely thinks you’re a creepy fan-girl now. You can kiss that autograph goodbye.”

“You’re lucky I’m too lazy to remake this drink,” you say. “Because otherwise, I’d spill it on you.”

“That’s against company policy,” he says.

“By accident, of course,” you say with a malicious grin.

“That’s against company policy, too!” 

“Look, she just smiled at you. I bet she was looking at you the entire time,” Sae says coolly. “You should ask for her number. You already said you think she’s beautiful.”

“I said she’s hot. I’m not all poetic and shit like that,” Aiku says. “And I wouldn’t do that. It’s against the bro code.”

“We’re not ‘bros’, so you can put that out of your head,” Sae says.

“What if I help you get her number?” Aiku says. Sae tries very hard to maintain his nonchalant look, but Aiku can tell that his curiosity has been piqued. “Will you consider me a bro then? At the minimum, will you tell the JFU that I’ve done a great job at showing you around and making you feel welcome?”

Please please please please please I really need a fucking raise Sae I’m broke please please please — 

“Sure,” Sae says.

“Sure?” Aiku says. “Yes! Okay, this will be easy.”

Sae scoffs. “Yeah, okay. If that’s what you think.”

“Believe me,” Aiku says. “You’re in the presence of a master.”

Sae doesn’t even dignify that with a response beyond the most disgusted look Aiku has ever seen on anyone, Sae or not. He’d say something, but he’s pretty sure he deserves it at least a little, and anyways a possible raise is way more important to him than being right, so he keeps his mouth shut, simply giving Sae a double-thumbs-up. He’s going to ace this new assignment, and then maybe he’ll actually be paid what he’s worth instead of pennies on the dime.

You’re about to call out Sae’s name when you realize that for some reason, both Aiku and Sae are standing there and waiting for you. You furrow your brow, because it’s both a menacing and a comical sight — the hulking Aiku, who looks like he’s about to go punch a criminal on television before flipping his hair and telling the ladies that there’s enough of him to go around, and the slender Sae Itoshi, who you can’t imagine doing anything but slamming a winning pass to one of his teammates, invariably leading to a soccer ball in his opponent’s net.

“Uh, hello,” you say.

“Hello,” Aiku says.

“Hi,” Sae says.

“I have your drink,” you say to Sae.

“I know,” he says, taking it from your hand. Of course — why else would they be here? They must’ve seen you finishing up the drink and rightly assumed that it was theirs.

“Right,” you say. Neither of them go to leave, and now you wonder if they just don’t understand social cues or something like that. “Did you guys want to order something else? My coworker would be happy to take you at the counter.”

“No,” Sae says.

“Okay,” you say slowly. “Well, I hope you enjoy your drinks.”

“We will,” Sae says with the utmost of confidence. Aiku groans and then thumps him on the back. You have a feeling you probably don’t want to know what the significance of the gesture is, but then you realize that this is probably the only chance you’ll get to have a proper conversation with Sae Itoshi, so you shove your concerns aside.

“Wait! If it doesn’t bother you too much, can I ask you a question?” you say. It’s an incredibly awkward way of going about it, but given how awkward this entire interaction has been, you don’t think it’s a huge deal. 

“Go ahead,” Aiku says. You weren’t asking him, but you guess the permission covers them both, so you square your shoulders and face Sae Itoshi, who seems entirely confused that you’re looking at him instead of Aiku. You’re not sure why he would be, since between the two of them he’s the celebrity, but maybe there’s some weird dynamic going on that you’re unaware of.

It doesn’t matter to you, though. You only have one thing to ask. You’ll never cross paths with Sae again, will you? So it’s fine. You can act a little embarrassing, and anyways, you barely make above minimum wage, so if your manager gets too upset and fires you for ‘unprofessional conduct’ or something, it won’t be a huge loss. It’ll be worth it, even, considering this is a once-in-a-lifetime chance and your coworker is busy reorganizing the storeroom like you told him to, so he’s not around to spy on you and report back to your stodgy old manager.

Taking a deep breath, you open your mouth and begin to speak. 

Aiku hadn’t dared to even dream of the possibility that the barista might already like Sae, too. Why would she? Sae had just been all weird and rude to her in the couple of times that they had spoken, so all in all she’d have to be somewhat of a masochist, or a Re Al fan (which was essentially the same thing, given the losing streak that Re Al had been on for the last month or so), to be into him. But sometimes miracles did happen and baristas were masochists, because the girl was turning to Sae with shimmering eyes and a hopeful expression and it was all going to go so well—

“What are you even doing in Japan in the first place?”

Did he hear her right? Sae is bewildered as well, but Y/N isn’t acting like she’s just asked the most ridiculous question she could’ve possibly asked. What is Sae doing in Japan? Well, he happens to be a citizen of the nation, so there’s one explanation…Aiku wants to facepalm, because now his plans have been ruined and Sae’s confidence has probably been crushed.

“Pardon?” Sae says. Aiku had told him not to act so cranky and old-man-ish when he approaches the girl, but honestly, at this point, there’s no helping him, so he doesn’t even bother with a correction.

“Why are you in Japan?” she says again, all bright and innocent and cheery. It somehow feels like she’s been faking things so far, and that this is the real her, which she’s been holding back up until this point. Aiku isn’t so sure if that’s a good thing; privately, he believes it would’ve been better if she kept holding back just a little bit longer. Long enough for her to reject Sae — who still claims he’s not into her and is just trying to ‘be friendly’, as if friendliness is something he’s well known for — and then move on with her day.

“My passport expired?” Sae says, phrasing it more like a question. “So I had to come back and get it renewed?”

His voice ticks up at the end of every sentence unsurely. It’s almost cute, like he’s a little baby chick. Aiku’s fond of chicks, so he decides he’ll step in. Just this once.

“He’s visiting from Spain to play for the Japanese U-20 team in an upcoming exhibition match,” he explains.

“Oh, wow,” she says. “But I thought you said you would rather give up on soccer or play with German college kids than ever play soccer for Japan?”

Aiku raises an eyebrow. He wasn’t aware of such sentiments, and though he’s not exactly shocked, he can’t help feeling a bit miffed. When he glances over at Sae, there’s not a trace of remorse on his face, and so he wrinkles his nose.

Forget the raise and the baby-chick-esque mannerisms alike. He’s done helping this ungrateful, no-good, lame-as-hell, girl-repelling loser for free. If Sae wants any further assistance, he’ll have to beg for it. 

“How did you know I said that?” Sae says. You clap your hand over your mouth when you realize you’ve exposed yourself.

“I, um, I was just guessing!” you say.

“Guessing?” he repeats. You swear, because that’s actually a worse explanation than the original one, and then you hang your head, because if the cat’s out of the bag, then there’s no way you can put it back in.

“It’s a quote from one of your interviews,” you mumble.

“What?” It’s Aiku, who immediately frowns when he realizes he’s butted in. Sae gives him an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

“I’m a big fan of yours,” you say. “The last game you played in, when you stole the ball from that Bastard München striker, was amazing! To tell you the truth, I’ve been trying to figure out why you’re in the area instead of back in Madrid. It’s a little unbelievable, you see.”

“Ah,” Sae says, and for some reason he looks uncomfortable. “Well. Yeah. It was just the issues with my passport and all. I decided to play for the U-20s because I was offered a good deal, but it’s right back to Madrid for me after that.”

“That makes sense,” you say. It’s awkward again, but in a different way. You don’t know what to say. You don’t think he does either. His drink is probably cold now, and you’re surprised that Aiku’s eyes aren’t stuck in the back of his head, given how frequently he’s been rolling them. “Can I have your autograph?”

“No,” Sae says immediately. You’re a little taken aback, and to be honest, he looks kind of horrified himself, but you know better than to nag, so you only nod at him.

“No worries—” you begin before you’re cut off by a grumbling Aiku.

“He’ll give you his number instead. Here,” Aiku says, listing off a series of digits too rapidly for you to remember. “He’ll write it down, for you, right, Sae?”

And then, to your utter disbelief, Sae Itoshi is pulling out a pen and a piece of paper from who knows where, and he’s humming in agreement.

“Right,” he says, and then he’s handing you a note with his phone number written on it in neat print and his signature in flowing cursive. “You can call me later. If you want. Y/N.”

The way he speaks is stilted and low, but you don’t mind it. Tucking the piece of paper into your apron pocket, you beam at him.

“Alright,” you say. “I’ll call you. I still have more things to ask you, so it’s good that you gave me this.”

“Yes,” Sae says. “Yes, you can do that if you’d like.”

Then he and Aiku are leaving the coffee shop, their drinks in hand, and you’re standing there in awe, wondering if that actually just happened or if it was nothing but a particularly vivid flight of fancy. 

If it’s the latter, then you almost hope it’s one you don’t ever escape from. 

“You’re welcome,” Aiku says as they leave the cafe. 

“I didn’t say thank you, you lukewarm oaf,” Sae says. Aiku shrugs. He’s hard to ruffle, after all. It’s the reason why he stepped in and rescued Sae from that little mistake of his. He just couldn’t bear the thought of his dear junior losing the girl of his dreams because of a slip of his tongue, even if aforementioned junior is the insufferable smart-ass type.

Well, the thought of the money he’ll make if Sae speaks of him highly to the JFU doesn’t hurt, either, but that’s less altruistic, so he prefers to stick to the first explanation.

“I bet you feel it, though,” Aiku says.

“Shut up,” Sae says. 

It’s a good thing babies are born every minute. Otherwise, given how frequently Sae says that particular phrase, Aiku really might run out of things to count on. 

You’ve typed the number on the piece of paper into your phone, and now you’re staring at it blankly, wondering if you should press the green call button. What if it was a prank? What if it wasn’t? Because then you’ll have to actually talk to Sae Itoshi, and you’re not so sure you can do that.

In a fit of inspiration, you slam your index finger against your screen and hold your phone up to your ear. It rings a couple of times, each subsequent one worsening the pit in your stomach, but then it stops ringing entirely, which can only mean one thing: Sae, if this really is his number, has answered.

“Hello?” you say.

“Hello?” he responds. “Y/N?”

“Yes!” you say. “It’s me. Y/N. Like you said.”

“Cool,” he says. “It’s Sae. Which I guess you knew, since you called me.”

“The confirmation was nice,” you say, internally sighing in relief. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” he says. It’s mannerly but also a little sarcastic, albeit not in a mean way. You don’t mind it much. “You said you had to ask me some things?”

The two of you spend the next few minutes in a setting kind of like an interview, in that you drill him with questions and he answers them all patiently. He’s kind about it, humoring you even though he doesn’t have to, and he never threatens to hang up, which you do appreciate.

“Would you mind if I ask a question, too?” he says when you’ve taken a break to drink some water.

“Go ahead! Although I’m not as interesting as you are,” you say.

“I think you’re probably way more interesting,” he admits. “Anyways. Are you free next weekend?”

“Uh, I think I have a shift on Saturday, but to be honest, my coworker owes me, so he can cover it. Why?” you say.

“The exhibition game that I’m playing with the U-20s for. You should come watch,” he says.

“Oh! Sure, where should I get tickets? I’d have gotten them already if I knew you were playing,” you say.

“I’m allowed to invite someone,” he says. “Friends or family. So I’m inviting you.”

“Don’t you have actual friends that you can invite?” you say before gasping. “Sorry! Sorry, that was super insensitive and rude of me. Of course I’m honored to come, I’m just confused about why I’m the one you’re inviting. Me. I’ve literally made coffee for you twice, and that’s about it.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” he says before pausing. “Um, look, Aiku told me to say this, so if it’s uncomfortable, then blame him…but I think you’re, er, beautiful?”

Your mind short-circuits. “Huh?”

“I don’t know! He’s the one who has experience, I’m just taking his advice!” Sae says, his tone souring immediately afterwards. “Trust me, it’s not like I want to. There’s many things I’d rather do than follow Oliver Aiku’s advice, but at the moment, it’s the best I can do.”

“Beautiful,” you repeat. It’s such an elegant adjective. You’ve been called pretty before, and there’s been a fair share of guys who have considered you to be hot, but beautiful…it’s nice. It’s really nice.

“Yeah,” Sae finally says. “Basically.”

“I’ll be there,” you say. There’s something like a scream bubbling in your throat, but you fight it back, knowing that it’s of the utmost importance that you maintain a relaxed demeanor.

“Great,” Sae says. “See you.”

“See you,” you say, and then you hang up before he can say anything further, because you’re already on the verge of combustion and you don’t think you can handle anything more.

Throwing your phone across the room, you give in and scream. There’s thundering footsteps, and then your father is throwing the door to your bedroom open, whipping his head around wildly.

“Is everything alright? Why are you screaming?” he says, heaving for breath, probably because he just sprinted from his spot on the couch to your bedroom in record time.

“Sae Itoshi!” you say.

“Yes?” he says, the rate of his inhales and exhales lowering as he realizes there’s no active threat to your life or property. “What about him?”

“He told me I’m beautiful and invited me to watch his game next weekend,” you say, knowing that this is going to make your father — a fellow Re Al fan — freak out.

You wait, counting down as he processes the news, unable to contain your exuberant grin, knowing exactly what’s coming. Three, two, one—

“What?”

[aayakashii]

The plushie headcanons are so cute! Mind if I send in a request for part 3 with Subaru, Alan, Sho, and Kaito? (I know damn well Kaito's gonna burst into tears at such a cute gift)

Thank you so much for enjoying them!! ｡ﾟ(*´□`)ﾟ｡ ♡ Hope you guys like this one!!

How Tokyo Debunker boys react after receiving a cute little plushie from MC – Subaru, Alan, Sho and Kaito 

Kagami Subaru – red crowned crane plushie

He apologizes for the fact that you went out of your way to make such a delicate and cute plushie for him

Then he apologizes because he doesn't have a gift to give you yet

Then he apologizes again because you told him he doesn't need to apologize

Please be a little patient with him! He's a bundle of nerves, and it makes it hard for him to express himself properly

He absolutely loved the little crane though!!!!

He is wondering how are you so creative, how did you make such a majestic animal become so cute and round as a plushie

Subaru manages to makeshift a little cushion for the plushie, and now it has its own spot at the tea table

Being such an anxiety-ridden guy, your gift to him also became a huge source of relief – he doesn't bring it with him anywhere, but it's like all his problems magically fade away once he sees it, it quickly became a source of comfort and emotional support

He doesn't really tell that to you or anyone, for that purpose, because he feels a little silly, but he absolutely cherishes his new friend and hopes to give you a gift that might mean as much to you as his little crane means to him!

Alan Mido – doberman plushie

Contrary to what people might think of him, Alan is a gentle giant

He's all soft eyes and little smiles to his underclassmen and Vagastrom students

Even if he's strict with them sometimes, it's all just his own form of tough love

So when you give him a doberman plushie, he can't help but smile and pat your head affectionately

The thought of you working so hard to make such a cute little thing for someone like him makes his chest all warm and fuzzy

He treats the plushie like a delicate trophy that could crumble into dust at any given moment

So he doesn't snuggle, nor squeeze it at all

He mostly just... Holds it. And stares at it, admiring your handiwork and thinking that it looks adorable.

And he also asks your opinion about everything plushie-related

"Do you think I should keep him in my room or at The Pit?"

"Why would you put him in The Pit?!"

"Maybe he could become a mascot..."

One day, he can't keep his curiosity at bay any longer and decides to finally ask you

"Why did you give me a doberman plushie? Specifically a doberman, I mean."

"Well, you are strong but also very gentle, just like a doberman can be protective and dangerous, but also sweet when it comes to its family"

Alan smiles and pats your head for the millionth time that day

He surely hopes he can keep being that to you.

Haizono Sho – raccoon plushie:

"I made this for you, an animal that reminds me of my cute kouhai"

"... senpai are you telling me I look like someone that eats trash"

"How the hell did you jump to this conclusion"

Don't worry about his reaction though, Sho absolutely loves it but he can't let any of his cuteness aggression show, to keep his bad boy image intact

Leo teases him over this gift, but every acid word just goes through one ear and out the other because Sho is over the moon, feeling like the most spoiled guy in the entire world

You see him through his rough image and have enough courage to give him such an adorable gift, you're truly something...

Oh, and the fact that you gave the raccoon a little apron to match his when he's working totally caused extreme mental damage over how cute it is

What if he also bought a leather jacket and a helmet to take him on his rides with Bonnie...

But will it be safe for it to ride Bonnie when it is so small and rotund and easy to slip away...

Please don't judge him, he's just a kid, he wasn't ready for parenthood

But since it has an apron, Sho will most definitely let it keep him company at the food truck

Maybe the little raccoon can be the cashier?

Sho will probably settle for this though

Fuji Kaito – penguin plushie:

Immediately screaming and gross sobbing

Cannot form a single coherent word once you give him his little chubby penguin

It looks so cute! It's so round and fluffy even though now it's a bit damp because of all his tears

A HUNDRED PERCENT takes this plushie everywhere

Kaito gives it a name, clothes, and accessories and creates an instagram account just to post photos of the penguin around the nicest spots jn Darkwick

Suddenly, Kaito becomes a photography pro since he just won't stop taking pictures of the little guy

Shows off to anyone that even points it out, ESPECIALLY if it's Luca

"MC made this FOR ME, which CLEARLY means I am their knight in shining armor and will protect both them and our child I mean our plushie with MY LIFE"

Totally misses the fact that Luca doesn't care

MC has to come to him and ask him pretty please to tone it down a bit because he is scaring the hoes everyone away

But how!!! He just loves (you) the plushie so much!! Let him show off, please? He's just a very excitable person!

He promises he'll chill out though, but before that, just one more photo for the plushie's instagram page...

[hellojusthereforabit-blog]

Past Lives Pt. 1 - Bucky Barnes.

Time - travel. Angst. Unrequited love. Fluff. Ft. Sam Wilson.

"I think I'm in love with you." Out with it I go. James Buchanan Barnes, the former Winter Soldier, my partner, my teammate, my best friend, stares back at me, unblinking.

You could hear a pin drop fifty miles away if you tried.

I take Bucky's silence as a sign to keep going.

"We've known each other for two years now and, mission to mission, catastrophe after catastrophe, we have had each other's backs," I take a breath. Steady myself.

"It wasn't always easy, and we've had our differences and fair share of disagreements, but there's no one else I want to do this with, Bucky." I sigh, heart frozen in my chest, "You're it for me."

Bucky has the most unique set of eyes I have ever seen. The kind that pulls you in deep, leaves you frozen on the spot and inspires you to quote comically cliche poems at him in hopes of being spared a glance. Truly, Bucky is so beautiful that most days it's hard to look straight at him, but now I choose to face danger head on as I bare my heart out.

Bucky opens his mouth, but it takes him a second to collect himself enough to speak.

"Doll, I…" He's looking away, anywhere but at me, I realize.

My heart clatters inside my ribcage until I'm sure it caught on a fractured bone and exploded.

"Yes?" I say, quiet now, meek. I expected it. After all, Bucky is a go-getter - if he wants a girl, he'll go right after her. I should have known.

I'm so fucking stupid. Always over-estimating my place in other people's lives.

Bucky seems to take in big breath, but I can barely see him. My vision is hazy, blurred. I vaguely sense the burning of my eyes.

"I can't do this, doll," is all he says, "I'm sorry."

How long it takes, for one heart to trust another. How quickly it all shatters, I think.

"I-" Mortifyingly, my lower lip quivers. "Is it me?"

"No! Doll, don't be ridiculous." Bucky corrects quickly, reaching out to caress my cheek with his flesh arm. I realize he must be wiping a stray tear.

"Then why?"

"I'm just - I don't know if I'm ready."

I nod. Try to smile. Step away.

Instinctively, Bucky reaches for me, but his hand falls short at the distance between us and drops to his side instead.

"Are we…going to be okay?" He asks, wincing.

That nails the coffin. I feel my face crumble, so I tilt myself away from the man of my dreams, the man that's breaking my heart. I push through the pain and nod again.

"Dude, yeah, don't even stress it." I whisper, voice hoarse.

Bucky doesn't take the bait, doesn't laugh, just stares at me with big, sad eyes. He reaches a hand out to me again, but I roughly push it out.

"Don't you dare feel bad for me, Barnes. I don't need your pity." I snap, embarrassed.

"Doll, that's not-" he starts, but I cut him off.

"And don't fucking call me that! Don't be so condescending. This whole time I thought there was something here, that I wasn't crazy. You call me sweet names and hold me close after nightmares and look at me the way you do only to not - ." I stop myself, gesturing at the space between us. "If you were just using me for comfort and company, then it's done." I breathe hard.

I know it's not fair to my sweet, gentle Bucky. But laying your heart bare to someone and them pushing it back into your open arms is a different kind of pain. Don't judge until you try it.

Bucky's ocean eyes grow heated. I won't let him speak more, everything's said and done now.

"I'll see you Monday." I say finally, slamming Bucky's apartment door as I leave.

Bucky doesn't call out. Doesn't chase me down the street.

I can't believe I was so fucking stupid. I shake outside of Bucky's apartment complex until I'm sure all the makeup of my face has been wiped clean.

I dial the only other living friend I have left.

"What's up?" Sam's commanding voice is a welcome change from Bucky's soft and apologetic rumble.

I sob into the phone for long enough for Sam to trace my location.

"Oh, kid." He crouches by my slumped form on the floor. "Let's get you up and outta here."

I cling to Cap for dear life.

--

"He's the only man I've ever loved" I tell Sam, nursing the drink in my hand.

Sam stares at me with the sympathy and understanding he only ever reserves for his family - Sarah, and, more recently, Bucky.

He sighs, grimacing into the distance. I realize how this must look for him: his small team of surviving heroes - falling apart at the seams.

"I'm sorry you have to deal with this." I whisper, suddenly captivated by the bubbles fusing at the bottom of my glass.

"Hey," he says gently, head snapping back to me, "You cut that shit out, right now."

"Yes, sir."

"Smartass. You're my friend - I'll do just about anything to ease the pain you're in right now. Hell, I was just looking for a reason to beat Bucky's cyborg ass."

I snort, barely fighting a smile.

"There she is," Sam teases.

Then his face turns somber.

"Can you still work with the guy?" he asks, leaning in. "This mission we got on Monday, it's tough, Y/n."

I look up but don't respond.

In all my drama I overlooked how deep the lines in Sam's forehead had been etched there for a while. I don't remember the last time he relaxed, or even took a break from being Captain America.

"We need all hands on deck," he insists. "Which is just three pairs of hands but it's still something."

I let myself contemplate for a minute longer despite already knowing the answer.

"Yeah, 'course, Sam. I'll be there."

--

To say the atmosphere in the room is tense is a grave understatement.

"So, I'll start," says Sam, taking the lead of the mission brief. He eyes Bucky and me with careful measure. Bucky stares straight ahead, and I try similarly to concentrate on the copy of the files printed and carefully laid out in front of me. In the time that it took me to read and re-read my copy, Bucky kept his untouched.

I pretend not to see the deep dark circles that blossomed under his eyes when we exchanged equally cold "good mornings".

"We're time-traveling, now?" I ask, unamused by the idea in light of recent events.

"This is a very high-profile mission," explains Sam, devoid of his warmth from a few nights ago. This was Captain America speaking.

"There's been a breach at the base - some high-tech equipment from Tony's lab has mysteriously disappeared. We have reason to believe that Tony's time machine has been activated last week, sending one or possibly several armed suspects back into the 40s. The mission is to find and bring them back to this timeline, where they will be dealt with by our laws and regulations without causing more trouble."

"What makes you think they're hiding out in the 40s?" Bucky speaks up for what feels like the first time today. I dig my nails into my clothed thigh, trying hard not to think about how deep and smooth Bucky's voice is.

Bucky is figuratively perfect, it's hard to believe that he's walking around like this without a girl on his arm. Or maybe he already has someone - which would justify him turning me down.

I tell myself it would hurt less if he was already taken.

"I'm not actually sure," says Sam. "That kid - Spiderman - or whatever kids like to call themselves these days - pretty much handles all of Stark's leftover equipment and labs. He says that's where they're at." Sam finishes with a shrug.

"So, let me get this straight," I clear my throat. "You want us to undergo this incredibly dangerous mission in completely uncharted territory just because some kid's got a hunch?"

From the corner of my eye, I can almost see Bucky nodding along with my words, equally displeased.

"It's not uncharted - our team has done this before to bring everybody back." argues Sam.

"And how many of them came back?" I snap, remembering red hair. Ballerina slippers. Knowing green eyes.

I feel both men flinch beside me.

"That was different." rumbles Bucky from the far end of the table.

That wound is too fresh, too deep.

"Don't." I retort. "My best friend didn't die just for us to use that goddamn machine like a toy." Of course, we all know who I'm talking about. Plus, Yelena will kick both of their asses if she hears about this, which makes me wonder if that's why she isn't included in this mission.

"Not us," Sam quips.

"What was that?"

"Not "us"," Sam repeats again, voice loud and clear the second time. "Just you."

"Absolutely not." Bucky interrupts, sitting up and fixating Sam with a glare harboring the force of a thousand suns.

Sam ignores Bucky, taking a seat across from me, "I can't go, things are still too tender for me to just disappear for days on end. They'll appoint a new Captain America and storm in to put us all in prison again if they think we're weak," he goes on, taking a gentle hold of my other arm extended across the table.

"Bucky would get recognized by someone within minutes, it's too complicated." Sam continues.

"Sam," Bucky warns from the other end of the room.

"You're our only option." Sam finishes with another sigh. He did that a lot lately, I noted.

"It's not happening. Y/n, tell him you're not going to do it." Bucky's authoritative voice echoes around the conference room. A sense of urgency I can't begin to analyze is there too.

I contemplate.

"Y/N." Bucky speaks again, something that was beginning to get on my nerves.

"How dangerous is this equipment again?" I ask Sam, ignoring the forceful sigh from the other end of the room. I didn't care what Bucky thought about me in that moment. Who was he to choose for me, anyway?

"I wouldn't be asking if it wasn't serious." Sam affirms. I know this too, Sam is above all things reliable.

"Well, let's see," I pretend to draw a score board in the air with my finger, "In the event of my death, my family will be heavily compensated. That's one." I shrug.

Bucky's chair scrapes against the floor as he crosses the room to where Sam and I are sitting. "Tell me you're not actually considering this."

Under different circumstances I would have believed that he was pleading.

"I've got nothing to do this week and no one waiting for me at home. Two and three," I drop two more points in the imaginary "pros" side of the board.

"Guess I'm in." I flash Sam my signature grin, one he did not return.

"Y/N, No." Bucky orders.

"No one's talking to you!" I snap, whipping my head around to face him directly for the first time today.

He had let a strong stubble grow over the weekend and now looked disheveled on the whole - I quickly push away thoughts of him waking from nightmares, alone and shivering, too stubborn to call me.

His gorgeous blue eyes widen and freeze over as he takes a step toward me.

"Are you doing this to get back at me?"

"Not everything's about you, Barnes." I say, "Sam, I'm in. Let's fuckin' do this."

--

Let me know what you think & if you want pt2 with 40s Bucky :)

[jahayla-parker]

Hi!! I love your work SO much! I wanted to ask for a Jeremiah Fisher x Fem!Reader (established relationship) lengthy imagine. I want the skinny dipping scene from start to finish with the clothes stealing and stuff. I want the reader to call Jeremiah shaking, sniffling, with tears in her eyes. Then the brothers come and the girls get changed, Taylor and Belly go with Conrad and when they leave Reader has a pain attack and Jeremiah comforts her. Sorry if this is a lot to ask. Love ur writing! Ty!

Rescue Me : Jeremiah Fisher x Reader

Descr: 6.3k wc, y/n is with Belly and Taylor when the other Deb girls steal their clothes while everyone was skinny dipping, leaving her to rely on her boyfriend Jeremiah Fisher to come to her rescue. Hurt comfort, slight angst to fluff

Warnings: Skinny dipping, stealing clothes, fake/mean people, crying, anxiety, betrayal, mentions of being naked (no smut or spicy content), relationship components and such, & cursing. Let me know if I missed anything!

“Put a finger down if you've ever made out with two people within 24 hours of each other,” Taylor said, glancing around at the group of girls.

Gigi, Nicole, and Taylor all lowered a finger as instructed. The girls were circled around the deck of a large boat, hanging out and getting to know each other. It was fairly late but the warm summer weather kept the evening air at Hopper’s Cove still comfortable for now.

After she finished laughing, one of Belly’s debutante friends spoke up. “Okay, put a finger down if you've ever used a stuffed animal to...” she trailed off. “… you know,” the girl concluded boldly.

“His name was Harry Bear Styles,” Taylor defended, putting another finger down.

The girls all laughed as they debated if Taylor having had a name for the bear was normal.

Y/n leaned back against the side of the boat as she took in the way the moonlight reflected on the water beside them. It was a peaceful scene.

“Okay, put a finger down if you've ever had sex.”

“If you've ever been to third?”

“Put a finger down if you've ever gone to second.”

The questions came one after another, hardly enough time for anyone to even comply with the instructions for the first one before the next came. Y/n noticed the way they all seemed directed at Belly, each deb’s eyes staring at her to see if she was putting any down. It wasn’t a surprise to see the debutantes were more interested in Belly’s answers than each other’s; most of them knew each other thoroughly already, but Belly was new to the deb scene. It also came as no surprise that they didn’t seem to care about y/n or Taylor’s answers to their interrogation-like questions; they weren’t debs after all. As far as the girls saw it, Taylor and y/n weren’t even “true” Cousin’s Beach girls since they’d been invited rather than having grown up here.

Y/n and Taylor shared an empathetic expression as the questions weighed in the air. It was clear the debutantes were judging Belly for not having put a finger down to any of the questions. It wasn’t anything Belly should be concerned or ashamed about, much less made to feel that way over. Y/n tried to send the girls a silent look that would make it clear they needed to back off a bit. But, as expected, the debutantes were ignoring y/n completely.

When y/n turned back to look at Taylor, she noticed the look in her eyes. Y/n watched as Taylor silently mouthed “You and Jere?”. She instantly knew what she was getting at. The debutantes were known for having a thing for the Fisher boys; understandably. They also didn’t know y/n well and hadn’t been around her or her and Jeremiah much since they started dating. In fact, it was Belly’s suggestion that y/n get to know these girls better, ideally becoming friend with them, that brought y/n here. Outside of Taylor, the Fishers, and the Conklins, y/n didn’t know anyone in Cousin’s.

The awkward shuffling of Nicole’s feet against the deck of the boat helped y/n refocus on Taylor’s unspoken question. It would be a good change of topic, and Belly clearly could benefit from that. She nodded at Taylor, earning a smile in response.

Taylor smirked as she looked around the boat before side eyeing y/n teasingly. “Put a finger down if you've ever made out with Jeremiah Fisher,” she purred.

When y/n’s ring finger hit the base of her palm, the girls all gasped.

“Wait you two got together?” Dara, one of the debutantes asked, her eyes wide. She leaned forward, arms resting on her legs, visibly intrigued.

The plan had a worked.

“They have been together! Jeremiah has been in love with her for like forever,” Taylor commented happily. As a friend of y/n’s, she’d always been supportive of her healthy relationship with Jeremiah. She shifted her focus across the board and chuckled, “sorry Gigi”.

“No, it’s fine,” Gigi said. Yet, it was clear she was not pleased. She had a newly-present scowl of jealousy on her contoured face. It was no secret she’d long harbored unrequited feelings for the younger Fisher brother.

“I was wondering why he seemed so preoccupied this summer,” Marissa commented, a small smile on her lips.

“And it explains why he’s always staring off at the y/job/station,” Gigi acknowledged, forcing a kind expression to take over her face.

Y/n bashfully bit her lip as she gazed down at her lap. Y/job/station was where y/n had been working for the summer since she needed some extra income and everyone seemed to have some obligation to attend to. She knew her working there was the main reason her boyfriend Jeremiah had decided to actually work this summer instead of just relaxing. He’d said so himself when teasing her about how she wasn’t letting him skate by on his father’s finances anymore. But, had he really been staring over at her while she was working? There was no reason for Gigi to lie about it. And her jealousy about Jeremiah allegedly staring at y/n was blatantly obvious. So, it must be true.

The girls laughed loudly at y/n’s bashful reaction. “You’ve made out with him and this is what flusters you?” Marissa joked lightly, her polite smile showing that she was teasing. The question made y/n even more bashful, only igniting the innocent giggles further.

“So, you’re with Jeremiah?” Nicole asked, redirecting the conversation.

Y/n nodded with a proud smile. “Yeah, we’ve been together for awhile,” she answered softly.

Nicole hummed. She tilted her head as her eyes focused on y/n. “So, you’re probably pretty close to Conrad too then, yeah?” She inquired.

“We’ve all been friends for years,” Belly spoke up as y/n questioningly looked over at Taylor.

Nicole smiled sympathetically at Belly. “Right, but you can’t seem to get a solid answer out of him for me,” she pointed out, not knowing how badly it stung the newest debutante. Nicole shifted her attention back to y/n.

“I’m sorry?” Y/n asked, not caring for how drastically the tone had changed. Or the way Nicole’s interview of her prompted all the debutantes to silence as they visibly waited in anticipation for her answer. She felt Taylor shift closer to her, making her look her way briefly before facing Nicole again.

“Do you think he’s, Conrad, is actually into me,… or?” Nicole asked directly. Her face displayed her embarrassment over having to ask such a thing, especially to someone she barely knew. But, the hopeful look in her eyes simultaneously showed why she wanted to ask.

Y/n swallowed thickly as she mentally reminded herself not to look over at Belly instinctively. “Oh, uh.. I don’t..” she rambled. She slowly glanced at each of the girls and their eager eyes. “I’m sorry… “ she began in a soft shy tone. “I don’t really know those details of Conrad’s life,” y/n said, praying it was enough to stop further questioning.

“Conrad’s a closed book,” Taylor stated with a forced airy laugh.

Nicole signed but nodded.

“Enough about the Fisher boys,” Taylor decided. Her last topic change hadn’t gone the way she wanted. It was time to try again. “Put a finger down if you’ve ever been skinny dipping,” she instructed, lowering a finger as she met Nicole’s stare.

Y/n let out a tiny sigh of relief as the topic successfully changed, Nicole putting a finger down.

“Put a finger down if you've ever gone skinny-dipping at Hopper's Cove,” Nicole amended, holding eye contact with Taylor.

“Is that a dare?” Taylor laughed.

“Absolutely,” Nicole smirked playfully. She turned to see the water outside their boat. “Let’s go,” she hummed, rising from her seat.

“Oh, my God, I knew my boy'd rally!” Steven screamed when Jeremiah showed up to the party.

Jeremiah had been at home upset that y/n had chosen to go out with the girls instead of spending the night with him tonight. But, after thinking it through, and Susannah lovingly scolding him, he got over himself. And what better way to kill time than a party?!

Jeremiah cheered as he dried the dribble of alcohol on his lips. “It's an ice luge! Come try it! Steven, come on!”

“I was so worried it would be freezing,” y/n admitted. She tilted her head back to let the water soak her hair again. “But, it’s not that bad!” She laughed.

Nicole nodded and smiled at y/n. “I know, right?!” She agreed excitedly. “It feels nice actually,” the deb stated confidently.

Taylor stated her agreement and Belly simply nodded before splashing around. The girls’ laughter rang out through the moonlight atmosphere as they continued to enjoy their night.

Gigi jogged down the dock. She began removing her shirt as she laughed at Nicole’s shock of being hit by an unexpected splash from Taylor. “Hey, watch out for jellyfish,” Gigi commented, setting her top next to the other girls’ clothing a foot from the edge of the dock. “I do not want to have to pee on any of you guys.”

Belly laughed loudly. “Ewww,” she gushed, shaking her head.

“The other two girls missed out,” Taylor attested. Y/n nodded silently as she closed her eyes. She focused on the feeling of the water gently caressing her fully-exposed skin as it glided across her. She extended her neck and rested the back of her head against the top of the waves. Since she was nude under the water, she didn’t bring her body up to fully float on the surface. But, she let her legs and hips become slack, allowing the water to raise them slightly beneath the modesty of the water’s surface.

“I know,” Nicole scoffed. She looked over at Gigi as the girl began to remove her pants, wondering what was taking so long. “I figured Dara wouldn't, but Marissa?” She asked rhetorically.

“Yeah,” Taylor agreed. “That's what I thought,” she explained. She had tried to get a feel and understanding of each of Belly’s new friends. Her analysis lead her to the same expectation that Nicole stated having had.

“Nicole!” Gigi called out. She bent down to see the phone screen better after having heard it beep.

“Yeah?” Nicole replied, starting to swim over to her friend.

“Conrad's texting you,” Gigi informed Nicole after seeing his contact name on the screen.

“Okay, coming!” Nicole smiled. She quickened her strokes as she rushed over to see what the message said.

Y/n opened her eyes to look at Belly to see how she was doing over Conrad texting Nicole this late at night.

“This is so nice,” Belly said absentmindedly as she spun around in the water.

“Have to admit Belly, l like your new friends,” Taylor confessed, looking over at y/n for her feedback.

Y/n smiled softly towards Taylor. She wasn’t sure about the girls just yet. She didn’t care for the way Nicole and Belly were in love with the same guy. Not that it was either of their faults, or anyone’s fault per se. But, it felt pretty clear that if things went down, the girls would instantly side with Nicole over Belly. And y/n worried about that for Belly’s sake. But, she was at least happy Belly was still enjoying her night despite Conrad’s interruptive text.

“I knew you would,” Belly smirked smugly.

“They all seem to have moved on about pestering you about things with you and Conrad,” Taylor stated, having looked at the situation with Nicole much differently than y/n had.

Belly hummed carelessly as she spun back to Taylor and y/n. “Because there’s nothing to move on from, right?” She argued, trying to remind herself to resist getting feelings for Conrad again.

“Right,” Taylor nodded happily.

“They seemed supportive of you and Jeremiah too,” Belly stated, smiling at y/n hopefully. It was clear she wanted y/n to like her new friends the way Taylor did. And she hoped this act of support would encourage that.

“Even Gigi,” Taylor murmured quietly, knowing the girl was not too far behind them. “Whose veins just about exploded when she heard,” she added comically.

Y/n giggled and nodded, having seen Gigi’s comical reaction as well. She glanced over towards the dock to see where said girl was, only to not see anyone there. “Uh, guys…-,” y/n began quietly. However, she was cut off when the headlights from Nicole’s car flashed across the water the three of them were still in. She squinted and saw Nicole was driving and Gigi was in the passenger seat. The car had been started and before y/n could even find the words to communicate her observations, the car began to back out.

“I knew they were bitches!” Taylor huffed. She spun sharply, sending waves outwards from her body. She quickly began swimming to the dock.

“What's happening?” Belly asked cluelessly. Her head whipped between y/n and Taylor.

“No, no…. No,” Y/n mumbled, getting nervous.

“Taylor, what's going on?” Belly asked again.

“They took everything,” Taylor explained as she leaned her arm on the dock. “Except for your phone,” she noticed. She picked up the device and realized why Nicole and Gigi had abandoned them. “Which has a really incriminating text from Conrad.”

“Wait, what does it say?” Belly questioned, voice dripping with intrigue.

Y/n hurriedly swam over to the dock. Her wide eyes scanned around them to try to find something they could use to wear home. The girls may have taken all of their clothes and y/n’s phone, but that didn’t mean it was time to give up. There surely had to be a way out of this with some dignity still in tact.

"My mom did ask me to ask you to the ball, but that's not why I did it,” Taylor read aloud. The mocking tone of her voice expressed her sentiments over the text from Conrad. “I did it because I wanted to,” she finished, rolling her eyes.

“Oh my God,” Belly grinned, resting her forearms on the edge of the wooden dock.

“Belly, concentrate,” Taylor scolded. After having seen the look on y/n’s face from her position behind Belly, Taylor frowned. “Y/n, you good?” She asked worriedly.

“Mmmhm,” y/n hummed falsely. “Just thinking about how screwed we are,” she concluded with a loud sigh.

Belly distractedly giggled gleefully as she stared off into the dark sky.

Taylor huffed in annoyance and smacked Belly’s arm.

“What? What? Okay, okay okay, w-well wha-what do we do?” Belly asked after seeing Taylor’s scolding glare.

“I mean, we cannot walk home naked,” y/n pointed out. They were stuck. She couldn’t call anyone without her phone. And they couldn’t walk anywhere without even the tiniest scrap of clothing to wear.

“It could be worse,” Taylor argued hesitantly.

“Taylor,” Belly groaned as she and y/n stared at Taylor in disagreement.

“We’re going,” Taylor determined. She removed herself from the edge of the dock as she prepared to turn and swim to shore.

“What could be worse than this?” Belly rhetorically asked with a loud huff.

“Wait!” Y/n gasped, her eyes landing on a thin layer of material beside the boat they’d been on earlier. It wasn’t ideal, but the large fabric that had been used as a boat cover would make do. “W-what about that?” She asked, pointing over at the dirt covered material beside the abandoned boat.

“Noo,” Taylor whined in a high-pitched voice.

Belly shook her head. “It’s better than being naked,” she said in agreement with y/n. “Let’s do it”.

Y/n bit her lip anxiously when another loud dog began to bark as she, Belly, and Taylor wandered down the dimly lit street. At this point she’d lost count of how many dogs they’d encountered. Yet, each sudden noise had y/n’s nerves soaring.

The trio was huddled together under the dingy and slightly stinky boat cover. Thanks to Nicole and Gigi, they had to walk barefoot down the roughly paved road. The breeze from the late night air had managed to snake its way under and/or through their makeshift coverage so they had curled in on themselves along the way.

“This is so bad. This is bad,” Y/n mumured. She continued to scan the area in order to keep an eye out whatever might be happening around them in the dark.

“I knew those girls were shit,” Taylor complained.

“Okay enough,” Belly sighed. “Okay I get it, you were right”.

Taylor suddenly stopped walking, making y/n and Belly turn to face her. “Why can’t we just call Conrad?” She proposed. “He’s the one who got us into this mess,” Taylor commented.

“I agree,” Y/n said, absentmindedly picking at her cuticles. “We are seriously going to be like murdered or kidnapped or something at this rate,” she panicked.

“No,” Belly groaned dramatically. “Calling Conrad would be too much drama,” she argued.

“I can’t walk two more miles,” Taylor whined, trying to cover her shoulders more with the thin fabric.

“Taylor’s right, let me see your phone Belly,” y/n instructed, extending her hand beneath the curtain of material around her. “I’ll call,” she offered.

“No, you’re both going to have to suck it up,” Belly stated firmly.

“Oh my God!” Taylor whined. She shared an exasperated expression with y/n but trudged on.

Y/n’s frame began to shake. She knew it was a mix between her anxiety and the air hitting her wet skin. The other girls had been going on and on about Conrad being a disaster for playing with Belly and Nicole’s feelings. But y/n was focused solely on trying to keep her breathing and heart rate steady. It was getting to be an increasingly harder job as the sound of some angry man could be heard in background of the street they were.

“Belly,” Y/n pleaded. Her voice crackled, and she had to stifle a sob. When Taylor and Belly quickly looked her way, she sniffled. “Please let me call Jeremiah,” she requested. The desire to attempt to stop her oncoming anxiety attack helped her realize that while she didn’t have her own phone she could use Belly’s since she too had Jeremiah’s number saved.

Belly nodded silently and hurriedly passed y/n the phone.

Y/n walked a few steps to the side, unable to truly distance herself from the girls given they had to share the protection of the boat cover. She scrolled through Belly’s contacts until she found his entry and quickly pressed call. As she placed the phone to her ear to wait, her vision began to blur from the tears in them. This was a disaster.

“Wait, weren’t you out with y/n?” Jeremiah dared to ask the pissed-off-looking Nicole. He was tempted to let her just take his brother aside to talk like she commanded, but he had to know why she wasn’t with y/n and the others anymore.

“I was, she’s still with the girls,” Nicole answered simply. She signaled for Conrad to hurry up. “I just needed to talk to Conrad,” she explained.

Jeremiah sighed in relief now that he knew y/n was still fine and enjoying her night with the girls. He leaned back against the step behind him on the staircase. He tried not to smirk as he watched Conrad reluctantly follow Nicole like a kicked puppy. He loved his brother, but also knew from how much turmoil his brother had been causing Nicole and Belly lately; he had this talk coming.

Conrad and Nicole had just stepped out of the doorway when Jeremiah heard his phone ring as it began to vibrate against his thigh. He lazily reached into his pocket and checked the caller ID. Why was Belly calling? He clicked accept and answered, “hello?”

“J-J… Jere,” y/n whimpered.

Jeremiah’s chest tightened as he heard y/n’s sniffles through the phone. “Woah, babe! Babe, baby, what…” he rambled. He forced himself to take a breath so he could speak coherently. “W-what’s going on? Are you okay?” Jeremiah questioned worriedly.

“N-no,” y/n cried.

“What’s going on Y/n/n? Where are you?” Jeremiah inquired as he jumped up from the stairs and rushed to the door. As he worked his way through the crowd he thought over how much he had to drink. Fortunately had not consumed too much, not enough to keep him from driving safely without having to wait for Conrad -who was the official DD-.

“I…,” y/n choked up, sniffling loudly as she tried to wipe the free-flowing tears from her face. “Jere,” she whimpered, not having heard his voice in a few seconds and her mind too frantic to realize he’d asked her a question.

“I’m here baby,” Jeremiah soothed. “Talk to me, please,” he requested softly.

“I … I need you Jeremiah,” y/n begged. Her hand held the phone painfully tight as her chest shook.

“I’m already on my way to you, babe,” Jeremiah promised lovingly as he started his car. “Just tell me where you are,” he instructed tenderly as he began to back out of his parking spot.

“I… I don’t…,” y/n groaned faintly. “I don’t know,” she confessed shyly.

“O-okay, that’s uhhh.., that’s fine,” Jeremiah reassured as y/n sniffled. “Can you see anything recognizable around you, sweetheart?” He guided.

“N-no,” y/n answered, pointlessly shaking her head. “It… it’s dark,” she explained, her fear ringing out in her words.

“I know,” Jeremiah said as he frowned. The time of day had only added to his worry upon hearing y/n cry as soon he answered the phone. “Tell you what, can you turn location sharing on for Bell’s phone?”

Y/n paused for a moment as a weight in her chest sunk heavily. “Oh, okay, I will, thanks,” she mumbled.

Jeremiah sensed that y/n was planning on hanging up to do as he instructed. He sighed to himself. She clearly wasn’t thinking thoroughly. “Babe, stay on the phone with me, okay?” He advised quickly before she could hang up. “Just put me on speaker while you adjust the settings, yeah?”

“Oh… right,” y/n sniffled. “Duh,” she remarked harshly towards herself as she placed the call on speakerphone.

“Shh, you’re fine y/n/n,” Jeremiah cooed. “You’re doing great.” He gripped the steering wheel tightly as he kept himself from nervously tapping it as he waited. Y/n didn’t need him being in a panicked state as well. She was already struggling. But that was precisely what had Jeremiah so tense and on-edge. He needed to get to his girl.

Y/n could feel that Belly and Taylor had intentionally sat close to her on either side of her as they sat on the curb. No one said anything. After all, what was there to say? After she’d gotten off the phone with Jeremiah, Belly apologized. Y/n struggled to try to reassure her that it wasn’t Belly’s fault. Thankfully, Taylor caught on to y/n’s intentions and conveyed the message before suggesting they all sit as they waited for Jeremiah to arrive.

Y/n stared at the shrubbery and trees across the road from them. It was barely even visible at this hour. But she found their stillness was slightly calming. Plus, it gave her something to focus on rather than ruminating over the multitude of fears that were screaming inside her mind.

As Jeremiah turned onto the street that Belly’s GPS location showed the girls at, he searched the area that was now lit up by his headlights; in search of y/n. He choked on a gasp as his eyes found her. She was draped in a soiled boat cover, her soaked hair dripping down the front of it, her eyes distant and full of tears, and she was visibly trembling. Whether that was from the cold, her emotions, or something else, Jeremiah wasn’t certain. What he was certain of however was that he should’ve gotten here earlier. Sure y/n had Belly and Taylor with her still. But, she was the only one in tears, the only one shaking. They all looked defeated and embarrassed. Y/n was in far worse shape than they were though.

Jeremiah forced out a choppy exhale as he flung his car door open. He only spared Conrad a minimal glance when his car pulled up beside him. But then his eyes were back on his girl. His far too polite, sometimes overly-trusting, lovingly protective, and all around sweet girl. She didn’t deserve this.

“Shit,” Belly cursed under her breath as she and the other girls looked over to the two sets of headlights. “They’re both here?” She asked Y/n accusatorially.

Y/n shrugged and sniffled. She tried to compose herself enough to state her innocence in this change of events. “I…I only talked to Jere,” she defended weakly.

“Belly,” Taylor scolded sharply, elbowing the girl in the side. “Stop,” she sighed. She offered y/n an apologetic expression on behalf of Belly.

“Oh my God!” Jeremiah exclaimed as he sprinted over. “Y/n, sweetheart, are you okay?” He asked. He shook his head, realizing his mistake. Of course she wasn’t okay. “I.. I mean, of course…,” he sighed.

As Taylor and Belly helped y/n stand up with them, he smiled faintly in appreciation. Jeremiah wanted nothing more than to simply hold y/n. To protect her from any further embarrassment, hurt, worry, from anything. But the predicament with their clothing complicated things. The fact the three girls were all sharing a musty old boat cover prevented that from being a viable option right now. Jeremiah used the minimal light of his headlights to scan y/n as much as he could in the dark. He stepped closer and cupped her cheek, tenderly drying a few tears with his thumb.

“What are you doing here?” Taylor sassed. She squinted at Conrad as he approached with a bag of clothes in his right hand.

“Nicole…. Uhhh…” Conrad began cautiously. He rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.

Jeremiah moved his hands to y/n’s shoulders. He respectfully made sure his hands didn’t touch any of her exposed skin and instead remained on the loosely wrapped boat cover excess that pooled there. He searched her eyes worriedly as he watched her turn her gaze to Conrad, seemingly wanting to know his answer as well. Jeremiah hummed softly as he craned his neck to look over at his brother.

Conrad glanced around at everyone as they stared at him expectantly. “She told me about ummm…and…,” he mumbled as he waved his hand around towards the girls.

Jeremiah narrowed his eyes at Conrad in question. He still hadn’t heard why the girls were stranded. All y/n said when asking him to come was that she needed him. Even after vying a bit for more information on his drive here, she’d only mentioned their group went skinny dipping and the three of them lost their clothes. He didn’t know where the other girls were, if they’d had their clothes taken too, or what Conrad had to do with all of this. But, the fact Nicole had been so pissed when showing up at the party and the fact Conrad had a bag of what seemed to be the girls’ clothes was damning evidence of a plausible explanation. But Jeremiah couldn’t focus on that right now. He certainly would later. Whoever all was behind making y/n this distraught would certainly be in for it soon. But for now, he needed to simply be there for her.

Jeremiah frowned, his brows furrowed. Y/n’s eyes weren’t on Conrad anymore, but her gaze was distant again. Her shoulders shook under the boat cover beneath his hands. “Sweetheart,” he whispered, moving one hand to her cheek. “Can you look at me?” Not getting anything in response, he tried again. “Y/n, just focus on me okay? I need you to talk to me, please”.

Taylor sighed softly. “It’s been a long night, Jeremiah,” she informed him, not caring to jokingly mispronounce his name the way she normally would. “Can you both just…?” She asked, looking between the boys.

Jeremiah nodded in understanding. He accepted the corner of the cover that Belly passed his way. He nodded his head at Conrad to signal for him to do the same with the other corner. He tried to steady his breathing and calm his anger so that when y/n was done, he could be there for her. He heard the girls stumbling around behind him and Conrad as they tried to dress.

Conrad glanced nervously over at his brother with a shy remorseful expression. He nearly winced when he was met with a hesitant but sharp glare as Jeremiah shook his head.

“You’re so not going with Conrad, right?” Taylor quietly asked Belly, her tone coated in a manner that showed she was instructing Belly rather than asking.

“Taylor,” Belly whispered. When Taylor looked her way, she nodded her head towards y/n as the girl stumbled while she worked to dress herself with shaking hands and presumably cloudy vision from her tear-filled eyes.

Taylor frowned; she felt horrible for y/n. She knew how bad her anxiety had been tonight. She nodded. “Fine, Conrad it is,” Taylor agreed.

“Wh-what?” Y/n asked, feeling eyes on her.

“Nothing,” Taylor smiled softly. “Just saying we’re going with Conrad,” she answered, helping hold y/n steady as she tried putting her shoes on. “You just let your boy take care of you, yeah?” She encouraged.

“Th-tha-thank-,” y/n began, sniffling as she tried to paste on a small smile for her friend.

“‘Course, girl,” Taylor hummed as she squeezed y/n’s clothed shoulder supportively. Seeing that they were all dressed now, she smiled at the girls and nodded for them to turn around. “Okay,” she said, no longer whispering between the girls, this time intending for the boys to hear her so they knew they could lower the cover and face them again.

Jeremiah quickly dropped his side of the fabric and spun around. Once he was facing the girls, he brought his hands up and cupped y/n’s face tenderly. His thumbs delicately swiped away her falling tears as he listened closely to her breathing pattern. “You’re okay, you’re safe sweetheart,” he promised.

Taylor smiled softly. “Take good care of my girl, Fisher,” she encouraged as she and Belly walked towards Conrad’s car.

“C’mere baby girl,” Jeremiah cooed, lowering his hands and opening his arms up for y/n. He squinted when she didn’t move to enter his embrace. “Y/n/n?” He asked.

“Are you mad at me?” Y/n whimpered.

“What?” Jeremiah ask, voice ringing with the sound of his disbelief. “Why in the world would I be mad at you?”

Y/n didn’t respond. She just sniffled and stared at her feet. Her sternum bounced as she tried to keep from breaking into a crying fit.

“You know this isn’t your fault,” Jeremiah murmured, “right?”

Y/n slowly nodded. “B-but I.. I..,” she protested vaguely, her breathing becoming more erratic.

“Aye, aye, aye, breathe,” Jeremiah instructed softly, taking y/n’s shaking hands in his. “Take a breath, love”.

Y/n sniffled as she unconsciously squeezed Jeremiah’s hands as she tensed. “I.. chose to spend time with them instead of-,” she mumbled.

“Ahh,” Jeremiah whispered to himself in realization. She was worrying about how they had a small disagreement over their plans for tonight. “Nah, nah, no, shhh,” he soothed. He rubbed the backs of her hands with his thumbs. “That doesn’t matter,” Jeremiah promised warmly.

“Jere-,” y/n protested.

“No babe,” Jeremiah said as he shook his head. “You haven’t had much girl time lately, I just got jealous of sharing your time, and you,” he blushed.

Y/n smiled weakly but genuinely. “But…,” she continued, her racing thoughts having taken over her mind by now. “S-still I … I left to see them, and then had to interrupt your night, and-”.

Jeremiah curled the left corner of his mouth towards as he gazed lovingly at y/n. “You can interrupt my night any time y/n/n, you know that. I don’t mind,” he told her.

Y/n sniffled, her eyes slowly finding their way to meet Jeremiah’s gaze. “But I…, it was your day off too, and I,” she hiccuped. “I ruined your evening, and all because I was too naive to-”. .

“Shhh, no. You’re not naive, they’re just mean girls,” Jeremiah defended. He softly pulled y/n’s hands closer to him. “You got caught in Conrad’s mess. I’m so sorry for that, honey, I am,” he frowned.

“Jere, ‘s not your fault,” y/n murmured.

Jeremiah gave y/n a grateful faint smile. “I know, but still, I-” he began.

“No, Jere,” y/n argued. Her breathing picked back up. She didn’t mean to make Jeremiah feel bad over this. She sniffled as she felt her nose run. “It-it’s n-n-,” she rambled.

“Okay, okay,” Jeremiah nodded. He delicately pulled y/n’s shaking body to his chest. “Oh and by the way, Y/n,” he said, her name coated in love. “You could never ruin my evening,” he attested.

“That’s it,” Jeremiah encouraged. He stared down at y/n as she continued to cling to his shirt. “You’re doing great,” he whispered. They were still on the street that he’d driven to when trying to find her earlier. She’d slipped into a full-blown panic attack moments after the other girls were in Conrad’s car.

“N..no,” y/n argued in a hushed voice. Her grip on the fabric of Jeremiah’s shirt intensified as she tried to catch her breath. “I still c-can’t b-bre-”.

“Yes you can,” Jeremiah promised, brushing y/n’s hair back from her face. It was true. She was breathing… shallowly… but still, she was getting air into her lungs. It was the only positive thing Jeremiah was clinging onto right now. “I wouldn’t dare let you sit here with me like this if you weren’t,” he pointed out warmly.

“F-feel,” y/n whimpered. She shifted off Jeremiah’s lap, the grass under him tickling her leg as she moved. She took hold of one of his hands and lifted it up. She placed his palm over the fabric covering the left side of her upper chest.

Jeremiah frowned as he felt just how fast his girlfriend’s heart was racing. He obviously already knew it was beating faster than normal. But, feeling it himself and seeing how desperate y/n was to make him understand why she felt she couldn’t breathe was a whole other matter. He sighed sympathetically. “Oh baby,” he cooed.

“Just lean on me sweetheart,” Jeremiah instructed when y/n returned to his lap in order to hold onto him again. “I’m here,” he hummed, y/n’s head burying into the crook of his neck, “I’m here”. Jeremiah closed his arms around y/n’s back and held her to him. Maybe if he could hold her tight enough, she’d realize she was safe and secure. He needed her to know that. She didn’t need to be afraid anymore. He just wanted her to see that. To believe that.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jeremiah told y/n. He rested his chin on her shoulder, tucking her under him even more. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you baby, I promise,” he declared softly. “You’re safe, you’re safe, you’re safe,” Jeremiah echoed, listening to the way her breathing calmed in sync with his reassurances.

“What is it y/n/n?” Jeremiah questioned lovingly as he glanced over at her from the drivers seat. He’d felt her eyes on him and when he looked her way, he saw he’d been correct.

“Just.. Thank you,” y/n answered with a soft smile.

Jeremiah smiled and shook his head. He peaked back at the street to enter the long straight strip of road was still clear. As his eyes once again found y/n, he sighed fondly. “You don’t need to thank me”.

Y/n shrugged and chuckled quietly. She bit her lip bashfully when she saw the way her laugh brought out Jeremiah’s characteristic grin. “I’m thanking you for coming to rescue me, whether you accept it or not,” y/n stated.

Jeremiah chuckled as his eyes playfully widened before looking back at the road. “Was that a threat?” He teased and squeezed y/n’s hand.

“Mmm, if it needed to be,” y/n giggled in defense.

Jeremiah’s smile grew as he listened to y/n’s laughter. “I love you,” he vowed, looking her way as he pulled up to the last stop sign before they were home. He nibbled on his bottom lip with smug giddiness. He was pleased she was feeling much better. But he was truly proud he’d been able to turn her night around and make her smile so excitedly after everything she had been through tonight.

“I love you too, Jere,” y/n hummed, squeezing his hand tightly. “My handsome, bubbly, knight in shining armor,” she complimented, beaming proudly when he blushed. She rested her head calmly against the headrest with a tranquil sigh as Jeremiah pulled in the driveway.

“Let’s get you to bed so you can sleep, hmm?” Jeremiah suggested, putting the car into park. He quickly exited the car and rushed to the passenger side before y/n could exit. “Did you want to sleep in my room tonight?” He offered as he opened the door for her.

Y/n nodded gratefully and let Jeremiah help her out of his car. She leaned against him as he wrapped himself around her from the side to walk with her. She yawned and quickly covered her mouth with her hand. Y/n smiled up at Jeremiah when she felt him kiss the top of her head as he opened the door to the beach house. She was home and safe. Not just because they’d made it back to Susannah’s house. But because she had Jeremiah, because she was in his arms, guarded by his protective love and affection.

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[lynnimini]

₊⊹ 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥𝘰 ₊⊹

description: fluff ⋆ oneshots ⋆ cute

⋆ in which y/n meets bonedo for the first time in memorable ways.

words: 1.65k

pairings: bnd x gn!reader

warnings: N/A

p. sungho

you and sungho met on your guys' very first day of college. you were running frantically and trying your best to navigate your way to chemistry, already being half an hour late. the moment you ran down the stairs, you saw sungho standing awkwardly outside the room contemplating whether he should go in and risk everyone staring at him.

"you late too?"

he shot you a sheepish smile and nodded in response to your question. you couldn't keep the spreading smile off your face, half relieved that you weren't the only one late. the other half of your smile was because the boy in front of you was the perfect mix of cute and pretty. you thought this was most definitely the silver lining to being late the first day, your prior regrets going out the window.

"let's go in together. i don't wanna be alone walking in while everyone judges me for being late"

you laughed and motioned for him to walk with you while you pushed open the door. surprisingly literally no one cared that you guys were late. a small nod from the teacher, a couple glances your way, and that was it. you and sungho made your way to an empty spot together and started laughing while pulling out your stuff. you two became really close over the course of your freshman year and never stopped mentioning the unfortunate circumstances of your first encounter.

l. riwoo

riwoo always thought you were beautiful, but never got the chance to talk to you. he was the kind of guy who was always surrounded by a lot of friends, both inside and outside school, so you would have never thought he was actually shy.

that is until one day riwoo decided to approach you for the first time since all his friends were telling him to just man up and go. he tried so so hard not to look nervous and just be confident, but riwoo couldn't stay calm in front of his 2 year crush.

"hey y/n"

riwoo's voice was all steady and calm but his eyes looked at anything but you. you were all confused because why was he talking to you of all people? you liked to stay within your friend group, and were pretty sure you'd never talked before. his friend group was so big he seemed unapproachable. nevertheless, you thought he was pretty cute.

"hey riwoo. what's up?"

you said in the nicest possible tone you could to make up for your rbf when he approached you. his friend group was trying to be quiet but they were all cheering for riwoo so loudly it was a miracle you didn't notice.

"i was wondering if maybe you wanted to walk home together later? i mean you don't have to of course! i just noticed that we always walk in the same direction every day and live in the same neighborhood and-"

"riwoo, i'd love to"

you laughed softly at his cute rambling and it sounded like pure heaven to riwoo's ears. you guys walked home together from then on, allowing riwoo to slowly reveal his long kept feelings for you, one day at a time.

m. jaehyun

your first time meeting jaehyun was extremely chaotic, but memorable all the same. jaehyun was looking for a job in the cafe you'd been working at for two years. he passed the interview process and was enlisted to you for training. you had groaned at the time, hating having to train the new hires who always asked small questions over and over again.

it was no different for jaehyun. he messed up over and over again, from scooping way too much ice to accidentally breaking the coffee brewer. he even ended up flinging an uncapped cup of iced coffee in the air, splashing cold coffee all over the two of you.

"i'm so sorry y/n"

he said every single time while laughing and smiling. at first, it annoyed you that he could find the situation so funny when it could get you two in so much trouble if the boss walked in, but with every mistake, you realized that that's just how jaehyun was: positive and joyful.

the only difference with jaehyun in comparison to the other new hires was his smile. you weren't oblivious to his cheerful personality. jaehyun constantly making jokes about his mistakes and smiling no matter what happened was contagious. instead of forcing a smile and rolling your eyes, you found yourself genuinely smiling and having a good time with this new hire, even if he was the worst of all the new hires at the beginning.

h. taesan

you and taesan were classmates, but you guys had never spoken or anything. you guys just existed in the same environment together.

all the girls in your class thought taesan was handsome and fawned all over him. half of them had never even talked to taesan either. you didn't get why girls in your class went straight for looks instead of personality. maybe that's why you haven't had a boyfriend yet, but you liked to reason that it was because you were too mature to date someone for looks alone.

on your daily walk home, you always ran into a sweet black cat that lived in a secluded ring of bushes. at first, the cat didn't come out of the bush, but with a little encouraging and lots of treats, the cat always waited outside the bushes for you at the same time every day.

every day except today. you walked up to the bush and wondered why the cat wasn't walking around waiting for you.

"y/n?"

"holy shit- taesan?"

taesan walked out from the other side of the bush at the sound of footsteps, scaring you in the process. you looked down at taesan's hand to see a packet of liquid cat treats.

"she doesn't like that brand of cat treat"

you laughed softly as your gestured to the cat who was stirring at the sound of your voice. you pulled out another packet from your bag and handed it to taesan. he opened it and held it out, successfully luring the cat out of the bush. taesan smiled widely and pet the cat for the first time, clearly elated at the satisfaction of winning over the cat.

"thanks y/n"

he grinned and you smiled softly. maybe taesan wasn't just handsome like you thought he was. he had a really sweet side too.

k. leehan

leehan's obsession with fish was a mystery to no one. no one but unsuspecting strangers like you. you were minding your own business at the aquarium, having come with a friend who abandoned you to go look at the sharks you were deathly afraid of.

you opted to separate and go look at the stingrays. you stood at the shallow tank and watched the stingrays gracefully slide through the water. you saw other people washing their hands and petting the stingrays, so you went to wash your hands as well.

you went back to the shallow tank and just stared at the stingrays. petting them seemed like a cool idea but you were afraid of the possibility of getting stung. leehan noticed you hesitating to pet the stingrays, so he gently reached down and pet the one closest to you two.

"are you scared?"

leehan asked. you glanced over at the tall, rather handsome man standing next to you and nodded sheepishly.

"i just don't wanna get stung. they looked so peaceful and graceful that i wanted to pet them"

you explained and leehan hummed thoughtfully.

"aquariums remove stingray barbs so people can safely pet them. it doesn't hurt the stingray, so it's okay to do"

leehan said as he motioned for you to pet the one that was about to swim by. you tentatively put your hand down and felt the slippery back of the stingray gliding across your fingertips. you pulled your hand out and smiled at leehan as if to say 'i did it!'. he thought you were cute as you continued to pet the stingrays passing by, promising himself that he would get your number after you were done.

k. woonhak

you didn't know whether to indulge in woonhak's antics or smack him on the head to force him to pay attention in class. despite having been in class with woonhak for three years, you guys have never really had any reason to talk. halfway through year 4, however, you had been assigned to sit next to woonhak.

you knew woonhak was chaotic and silly from what you've seen, but you never really knew the entirety of it until you got to be next to him. woonhak literally could not focus in class. you would think this kid has adhd or something the way he tries so hard one second but moves onto something else so soon.

even when you thought woonhak was paying attention and taking notes, he would be writing song lyrics in his notebook. woonhak noticed you staring and wrote on the corner of his notebook, 'no one knows this yet, but i want to be a songwriter'.

you thought it was nice and endearing that he was putting the effort into being a songwriter but also? you guys were literally in math class??? you wrote right next to it 'i'll be your first and biggest supporter if you can tell me how to do logs on a calculator'.

woonhak widened his eyes and turned to quickly pay attention to how to use a calculator, eliciting light laughs from you.

"i'll be your biggest supporter even if you fail math"

you smiled and whispered to woonhak who playfully shoved you and finished the draft of his song. and when he debuted you really were his biggest supporter. right in the front row at Music Bank. cheering for your boyfriend and the other members of boynextdoor :)

[beta-therapy]

You are not Entitled to Sex

Society has made massive strides in allowing women to be sexually free, the most important of which being the development of effective technology for contraception and female reproductive health, as well as the large-scale social destigmatization of public displays of female sexuality. Although this societal transformation is only just getting started, we are now at a point where women in Western countries can dress how they want in public without getting judged (for the most part; misogyny still exists but more and more people are taking a stand against it). We are at a point where women can have sex without having to worry about getting pregnant. As such, the downsides of sexual promiscuity have been eliminated, and women are no longer required to constrain themselves to a monogamous relationship in order to have sex. They are free to have sex with whoever they want without being forced to settle for a man who will actually dedicate himself to a long-term relationship.

And we are all familiar with the main result of this sexual liberation: a small minority of hyper successful men get to experience the vast majority of sexual encounters, and if this is not you, then you either remain a completely sexless virgin, or you have to fight for crumbs of attention from older, less attractive, or “ran-through” women who don’t respect you and will cheat on you in a heartbeat. After all, women fantasize about sexual encounters with hyper successful men, and in modern times they are free to act out this fantasy without having to worry about whether the man will stick around or not. We as a society have outgrown the “ideal” from ancient times of a 1-1 male to female pairing where sex is practically guaranteed to anyone willing to commit to a relationship. Now, your mere willingness to commit to a woman does not make you worthy of sex. Society is now embracing the fact that not all men are meant for sex.

For many men, this is a tough pill to swallow: that just being a good guy with a decent personality does not mean that you are entitled to sex. It can feel quite frustrating when you see women in public dressed in a way that flaunts their sexuality, but you also know that this display is not for you. Furthermore, any attempt you make at flirting or trying to make a sexual advance on these women is met with extreme social blowback. Who do you think you are? Trying to “pick up women?” They’re not just sexual objects for your disgusting pleasure, perv. Learn to respect people’s boundaries. Women should be able to exist in public life without getting harassed by lonely horny men who think their provocative outfits are an invitation to disturb them. The toughest pill to swallow is the fact that yes, staring is harassment, and if you get caught making a woman uncomfortable with your inappropriate glances, you deserve to get kicked out of whatever place you’re in, and you likely will.

“But she’s asking for it, right? With what she’s wearing, she’s advertising her sexuality on purpose! How am I supposed to completely avoid looking at her or getting an erection/orgasm?”

By learning to be an ally to women instead of a misogynist. Learn to have empathy. Does she want some creep approaching her and asking if she’s single? Or would she rather you keep your head down and mind your business? Yes, in modern times there are lots of beautiful women showing a lot of skin in public. You must learn to control yourself around them. If that’s too much for you to manage, you don’t belong in public at all.

“But then how am I supposed to meet a woman? When I approach them in public, it’s like they can smell the virginity on me, and they always reject me. And I can’t secure any dates online either. What am I supposed to do? Just respect their decision to reject me and stop creeping them out with my unwanted advances?”

Exactly. We aren’t living in the 1900’s anymore. Just being a nice, respectful guy doesn’t give you the right to sex. The men who get all the sex have been doing so since high school. They have very large social circles, which function almost like a funnel that brings them more women to fuck, thereby increasing the scope of their social circle even further. They have social media accounts that illustrate their social dominance. After all, it’s 2024 and one of the main ways people meet their hookup partners nowadays is through Instagram DM’s or dating apps. There certainly is a positive feedback loop causing the male social elites to have sex with more and more women, whereas for a male virgin, one reason women avoid him is specifically due to his lack of experience, thus perpetuating his sexlessness.

[lleldey]

The Deepest Marks of Essence

Description: When you found yourself circled by a tribe, you never thought it would lead you to tap into your deepest wants and desires. You are the oldest child, the example of how one should act at all costs, but if you ever manage to escape this maze and if your story ever becomes told, you’ll never be looked at the same. But it’s hard to regret it when your nights are spent with gentle caresses and starry midnight skies. You got everything you secretly longed for, but at what cost? 

Warnings: a tribe, use of weapons, yelling, mentions of wounds-blood, JK is a yandere, mentions of people dying/killing, smut, use of  psychedelics, if I missed any, please give me a shout!

Word Count: ~18.7k

One-shot..?

A/N: Ha, this is a logner one, but I hope you enjoy it, also it’s not proofread (yet) ! ; it’s centred on world-building and MC’s emotions/feelings, so, friendly suggestion, I’d say feel it through, even if it takes a bit longer, that way it will make more sense :)

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

“Remind me, why do I ever listen to your crazy ideas?” you huff and shoot daggers to your way too happy brother. Spending vacation in midst of a jungle was never your idea, but your brother kept nagging you, and you’re sure no one would be able to refuse his big, puppy-dog, begging eyes.

“Because you love me,” he cheekily sends you a wink, “and also, this is fun!” he happily throws his hands in the air, “Listen to the nature, feel the breeze, the fresh air.” He dreamily closes his eyes, all while you’re close to throwing a rock at him.

You’re tired, the backpack keeps digging in your shoulders, there’s a small rock in your sneakers, and mosquitos keep biting your sweaty skin. You keep reminding yourself the hike will soon be over, judging by the markers on trees you’ll be happily back in the comfort of your car in an hour.

Taehyung opens one eye, and disapprovingly shakes his head, “You’re no fun,” slightly offended you shoot back, “And you need to find friends, this is the last time you’ll ever get me to do this.” High pitched buzz nears your ear, and you unhappily swat another mosquito.

“Jesus’, Bee, look how tense you are. Perhaps I need more friends, but you surely need a boyfriend,” annoyed, by both his words, and the overused childish nickname, you roll your eyes, looking at your younger brother unimpressed, “Or perhaps a one-night stand?” he presses his lips, holding in his laughter all while you slap his neck traumatized by the change in topic.

You’d like to keep your love life solely to yourself, and as far away from your brother’s praying eyes as possible. You refuse to acknowledge the hidden truth in his words, always being a bit jealous of his lifestyle; loving with no strings attached, diving into the moment, and letting one’s mind free. Something that you, the oldest child, and a woman, cannot afford to do.

But that’s your secret to keep, sure that if he ever got to know of it, he’d never let it go. Silently, you follow his lead while he giggles in front of you. “You’re missing the beauty of life, open your eyes and be free” he exaggeratedly points, and you stare at him, wondering if he managed to get stoned while you were busy fighting mosquitos.

You open your mouth ready to reply, but your words catch in your throat, as you come across a lookout, trees clearing a patch to see the beauty of the jungle; treetops swaying in the wind, mountainy greenery shining in the warmth of the sun.

Taehyung whistles besides you, both of you stunned from the beauty in front, “Take a picture of me,” he hits your arm, all while not taking his gaze from the scenery. You grab your phone while he runs closer to the edge to pose.

“I’m not sure if this is the best way to spend battery in the middle of nowhere,” you mumble and note how your phone is still out of service. When you look up, your breath shudders and you hiss, “Don’t stand so close to the cliff,” Tae only gives you a cheeky smile and poses while flexing his muscles. Apparently, you’re the only whose been taking notes of the warning signs all around.

“Aw, is my big sissy worried about me?” he coos, and you roll your eyes while clicking the photo. You go to check the gallery, but his cocky words make you look up, “See, it’s safe,” he takes a step closer to the edge, and your previously stiff shoulders go rock hard.

It’s a matter of a second, he looks over the edge of the mountain, and in a blink of an eye, he trips and the ground beneath his feet crumbles. You don’t even manage to scream, one second, he’s looking how steep the slope is, and the next he’s falling.

Your body moves on its own accord, and you lay pressed to the ground, looking over the edge trying to find him. Panic leads your body, and without a single doubt in your mind you run alongside the edge, trying to find a place to rush down the mountain.

Branches cut your skin, but you don’t stop and run down the steep hill, calling his name, hoping to god he’s all right. Your feet fail you, and your body goes tumbling down the hill, stopping only when you crash into a tree.

You groan at the impact, and press your hand against your head, curling in due to the pain. Your palm is stained with blood, and you feel dizzy when you try to get up, pressing most of your body weight against the tree.

“Tae?” panicked, your voice breaks and lips tremble. All you see is greenery all around you, hopelessness seeps under your skin, and you realize – you’re all alone, hurt, and in the middle of nowhere.

Hanging onto the last bit of sanity, you fish out your phone, and sigh in relief when it turns on, only screen suffering the impact of your fall. But your relief is short lived, there’s still no zone. You look back up the slope, the trees stretch across the horizon, and you know there’s not a chance you’re leaving your little brother behind, you have to find him.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline, but you don’t feel pain, only discomfort as you keep wandering the jungle. “Tae, where are you?” you shout as loudly as you can, hoping against all odds he’s conscious.

There must be an angel guiding you, as you swear you hear something down the hill. Doing your best to speed up your steps, you rush towards the sound, looking all around to make sure you don’t miss him lying somewhere.

The first thing you see, is a bruised hand reaching up to grab a branch, and once you hear your name echoing with the wind, relief floods your system and you run towards him, not caring if you fall.

“Oh my god, Tae!” you fall in his embrace, ignoring how he grunts when you throw yourself in his arms. “Thank you, thank you, thank you for being alive,” you press his cheeks together and search for injuries on his body.

That seems to be an easier task than to find none – his clothes are fully teared up, skin dirtied in mud, and blood seeping from his skin, but once you detect that there’s only nonlife-threatening injuries to the eye, your relief turns to rage.

“What the hell were you thinking,” you shoot him daggers, and hit his chest, “You’re a complete idiot!” he doesn’t fight your attacks, only presses his head against the tree trunk.

“What are we supposed to do now?” His trembling voice awakens you, and you press your lips together, “Can you walk?” he winces once he puts weight on his leg, which on further inspection looks in an unnatural position. His hiss tells you as much, but you help him stand up, no other option running through your mind, you’re not about to leave him here.

You wrap your arms around his body, and help him take a step forwards, “This is pointless, you don’t even know where we’re supposed to go,” he hisses with a labored breath. You choose to ignore his statement, praying that there’s another group of idiots wandering the jungle.

Soon you’re dripping in sweat, carrying most of his body weight; ignoring your own pain turns out harder than you hoped it would be. You don’t take your eyes off of the sky, it being your only source of solace, but when it starts to turn darker and Tae keeps grunting in your ear, you finally decide to stop.

Carefully, you rest him against a tree and grab your phone hoping that the signal might appear. But when the bar is still the same, you turn to Tae asking for his phone, “Lost it, when I fell.”

You try to keep yourself together, be the responsible one to whom everyone turns for help, but truthfully, you’re close to falling apart. You’ve been stumbling in wilderness for too long, and you’re painfully aware that the time is closing in on you.

In matter of minutes, you’ll be the prey for darkness, and as beautiful as the jungle is, it’s also home for predators waiting to sink their teeth in your skin. With every scrunch of a leaf, you search for the hidden animals, praying, that this isn’t the way you go. And if it is, you swear, you’ll haunt your brother till the end of times.

You open your barely standing backpack, and throw a protein bar at him, if you know one thing, you’ll need strength to survive this night. You’ve no sense of direction, hopelessly stumbling near the hill, hoping there’s a way to go up.

Tae starts to refuse the snack you’ve thrown, but one dark glare thrown his way shuts him up; he understands this situation is his fault, and now is not the time to cross his older sister. You rest your head against the tree, and try to gather strength to carry on, but at this point, even the birds have silenced their chirps, no sense of life surrounding you.

But when all hope seemed to be extinguished, a thud, like a stone being thrown, sounded behind you, and not even a second later a swarm of birds flew over your head. Both of you freeze, and you train your ears to the direction of the sound, wondering if an animal has already noted you as their prey, or perhaps~

Dare you even wish, is that a person?

You look backwards and try to see anything from the depths of trees, and you swear you heard soft whispers. Your body surges with a newfound sense of survival, and you quickly turn to Taehyung, “I think I heard someone,” He skeptically looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze, trying to hear something more.

Silence welcomes you, no words heard, but still hanging onto the last bid of hope, you convince yourself that every branch break comes from someone. Quickly, you turn to him once more, and shove your backpack in his arms.

“There’s someone there, wait for me here,” but he grabs your hand and looks at you as if you’ve lost your mind, “That could be an animal, don’t.” but you shake your head, even if it is an animal, you’d rather die trying.

“But what if it’s not?” he stops and stares reluctant, “Here, take this,” you press your phone in his hands, he furiously shakes his head and desperately tries to catch your gaze, “Just in case. Wait here, I’ll come back.” You promise, but you’re not sure if that’s one, you’ll be able to hold.

You might be walking into a den of a predator, but that’s a chance you’re willing to take. Before you submit to your fate, you embrace your brother and hold him close, hoping that the angel looking after you, will not leave you this time around.

Squaring your shoulders, you turn to where the sound came from and carefully go towards it, quietly enough to hear if it comes around once more. You’re clumsy with your steps, half dragging your legs, but the further you go, the more on edge you feel, every little sound feeling like an upcoming attack.

Just when you’re about to turn around, you hear it~

Adrenaline courses through your system and you close to run towards the sound, perhaps if you were less desperate you would have waited, listened more, and checked if there’s no danger, after all, you are a woman estranged in depths of nowhere.

But once you see shadows of people, you can’t help but scream as loud as possible, only thought running through your mind – you’re saved.

The group of people stop, and alarmed turn towards you, shouting something back, but you’re too elated on seeing a live soul, that you don’t stop to overthink that’s not a language you recognize, and even less so the clothes they wear.

“Help! You have to help me!” breathless you cry out, all while stumbling closer to them, “My brother, he’s injured! We got lost, please help us,” their shouts only increase, but you run closer, deaf to their aggressive tones.

You stop only when the first spear lands near your legs.

Alarmed, you look up, and take in the situation you unknowingly put yourself into. Around fifteen men circle you, their hands threateningly hold up weapons aimed at you, faces stoic and lips shouting words you cannot comprehend.

Your knees tremble once you realize the danger, and slowly you put your hands in the air, flinching at every shout directed at you. With shaky eyes, you look over every man circling you, but the weapons facing you only make you shrink in on yourself further.

The words they shout are foreign, and one look at their clothes makes you realize just what you’ve stumbled upon. Looks like your angel has truly left you estranged, as you’ve stumbled up on the deadliest pack of predators you could’ve.

A tribe, a group of wild, uncontrolled individuals that live by their own rules and fears. A group of individuals who see you as a treat. Your knowledge of them is sparse, but one thing you do know – keep away from them at all costs, and if you ever stumble up on them – run.

But running isn’t an option now, no matter the situation you're in, you know you won't get through the night without their help. That is, if they let you take as much as a step towards them, before they pierce you with their bows and spears.

Your hands tremble in fright, and you assess the group around you; they point their weapons at you, not a single ounce of sympathy present, just blind rage and fear. Slowly they start enclosing in on you, alarmed you turn your head in all directions, till your sight lands on a man right before you, not shooting daggers at you, or even more so – not holding any weapons. Just looking at you with scrutinizing eyes.

With hands still in the air, you don’t break eye contact with the man, and quietly start all over again, “My brother is hurt. And we need help.” You keep your voice calm, even though every nerve in your body is working overtime. But your voice doesn’t calm the situation at hand, from your peripheral vision you see someone jumping closer to you, pushing their dagger dangerously close to your skin, probably trying to scare you away.  

You close your eyes, and repeat what you’ve already said, hoping that the language is easy enough for them to understand. But as much as you’d like it to be true, you doubt they understand single word coming out of your mouth, their shouts continue to increase, even after you quieten your voice.

Desperately you lock your gaze with the man in front, his eyes burn your skin, but he’s the only one who doesn’t shout or threaten you; “Please” you whisper, overwhelmed, your eyes fill with tears.

He doesn’t move, only carefully observes you; he scans your trembling body, the longer he looks, the more his eyebrows furrow, and with each passing second you feel as though your last hope is dying out. Before he manages to join the rest in their hatred towards you, you overstep every violent shout of common sense, and quickly step closer to him.

The yells all around you increase to a deafening volume, and you see how the man in front of you freezes in caution. Perhaps you should back away and leave the terrified group alone, but the fear of your brother being hurt combined with you both being tired and lost only serves to increase your growing panic, all sensibility lost – your body driven by impulse.

You don’t know what you were thinking, wouldn’t be surprised if you weren’t thinking at all, but in a matter of second, you grab his hand, and hold it tightly in your arms.

If beforehand your every movement caused a burst of shouts and energy, now it turned deathly silent. His muscles contract under your touch, but you don’t let him pull away, rather bring his hand closer, intertwined with your own, over your heart.

Your actions bring panic back to life, but before they manage to grab you, the man in front of you raises his other hand, and as if following a silent command, everyone stops their movements. He doesn’t break your eye contact, and you’re sure, if not for his authority, you would’ve been a goner.

“Hurt,” you softly whisper, but his eyes continue to search yours, so you try again, and bring your intertwined hands to your forehead, where the bleeding gush from the fall marks your skin, “Hurt.”

A flash of understanding lights his eyes; you see it in his face, he recognizes what you’re saying, and against your better judgment, hope slowly starts to return. You move to point backwards where Tae awaits you, but all it takes is for you to break eye contact, for his hold to tighten around your hand.

Alarmed you turn back, painfully aware now is not the time to scare-off the only person who seems willing to listen. “Hurt” you point backwards, his eyes follow where you’ve pointed, but he doesn’t move, his gaze simply returns to yours, as if awaiting your next movement.

“Help,” you point behind you, but he seems satisfied staying where you’re at now. His hand goes to smooth down your, surely, nest of a hair, with slight intrigue enjoying the smooth texture.

He doesn’t seem bothered by your presence, taking his time, and exploring your features; but the longer you spend under his analyzing gaze, the darker it gets, and the alarming thoughts of your brother being unarmed and under natures free will leaves you antsy.

You don’t want to come off as rude, and scare them once more, but his touch feels more and more patronizing – you, standing here, in relative safety, all while Tae’s probably going out of his mind, scared for both you, and the prawning predators waiting for their shot.

“There,” you try again, antsy of the ignorance your disheveled state brings them, “Help, there.” You point to where Tae awaits you, and try to catch the domineering mans attention, but it turns out to be a harder task than initially anticipated.

He looks utterly content, but your older sister’s gene kicks in, and you pull his hand towards you while stepping back, “Help.”, more determent you repeat. From your peripheral vision you see the man all around you anxiously move, but you don’t break your gaze from the man in front of you, having a sense that this is a test of ones will.

He sees you’re not backing down, and once you take another cautious yet determined step backwards, he sighs and tilts his head as if overthinking his decision. He doesn’t seem frightened, or angry, rather annoyed.

For the first time you hear him speak, and you’d be willing to do close to anything to understand what exactly the words are falling from his lips. But judging by everyone’s lost facial expressions, it’s not something they want to hear.

You watch how one of them huffs and says something back, but the unresponsive and domineering look the man in front of you shoots him makes him lower his head and stop what he was saying awfully quick, almost as if in submission.

One thing for sure, the man whose hand you’ve grabbed holds some sort of authority; you’re quick to gather the inner pieces of the tribe’s dynamic, and thankfully you’ve managed to acquire some sort of bond with the one who holds the power. But limelight brings its own shadow, and you realize that one misstep or act of disrespect, and a ‘yes’ from the man in front, for your head to hang on their spears.

His domineering gaze doesn’t reach you, when he turns his head, relaxed he nods, and that’s enough of an approval for you to turn around and lead them back to your brother. Your mind drowns in tsunami, trees blend together, and you hope this is the right path you came from.

Your legs are wobbly, whether it’s due to exhaustion or the fall you don’t know, but you do note how quiet their footsteps are, barely even heard, whereas you’re stumbling through every branch, the mysterious man’s hands coming into clutch every now and then, when gravity seems lost on your body, and you’re about to facepalm the dirt.

The further you go, the more panicked you become, the walk didn’t seem so long when you first came, and your throat hurts in agony of you silencing your screams in search of your brother, remembering how raised voices frightened the group of dubious men.

Unknowingly, you’ve grabbed the mans hand iron tight, it being your only source of groundedness. You feel his body becoming more tense the closer to the cliff you go, they probably don’t wonder so far off, possibility of meeting other people too big of a threat.

You search for your brother through the dense woods, praying he’s somewhere around; you wouldn’t put it past yourself to be going in the wrong direction all together, greenery all around too confusing and similar for any sense of direction, your only hope being broken branches every now and then.

You stop in your footsteps once you hear a new sound in the overall quietness, something akin to a person groaning. Your heart beats violently in your chest, and everyone stops all around you, painfully alert to any possible danger.

But when you hear your name being whimpered by no one else but your brother, you don’t stop to overthink and drop the man’s hand, shouting after Tae and run forwards. Adrenaline over washes any pain – something you’ll worry about tomorrow – your shouts for your brother increase and your speed increases once you think you see his t-shirt shining in between trees.

But you don’t get any further, a strong force pushes you back into a hard chest, and you find yourself caged in the arms of the unknown male. You turn your head to him, and desperately point to where your brother’s voice is coming from and press “Help”, but all you’re met with is his heavy breathing, probably from chasing after you, and domineering gaze that requires obedience.

Tae stumbles fully into your sight, he was probably worried sick about you, and tried searching you; you see how his body freezes and he fearfully takes the sight in of men standing in ready-to-attack stances pointing their weapons at him.

Your last remnant of control breaks once Tae’s voice cracks as he close to whispers your name in fear, and no matter how strong or willed the man caging you is – he’s no match for a desperate woman.

You trash in his hold and scratch his skin, till you find one millisecond of his guard down for you to detach from his arms and run to your brother. You’ve no clue what Tae sees behind you, but he stumbles back in between all shouts and falls in dirt.

Exhausted yet relieved you drop to your knees and grab his face in your palms, “They will help you, please don’t fight it,” quickly you rumble, fearful the man will grab you away from your brother once more, “That’s a tribe” Tae looks terrified, a feeling you can much relate to, but the relief of him being alive and in your arms is too strong, and your eyes overflow with tears and you hug him close to your body, “Thank god you’re alright” you cry out in his shoulder.

To no surprise, a hand grabs the back of your jersey, and pulls you apart from Tae. Your teary gaze is met with the mans domineering one, and you practically feel fumes coming out of his ears when he firmly positions you behind his back.

He holds your waist with one arm, and in the other his spear, you can’t control your tears, probably due to the exhaustion and fear the last hours brought you. You’re pressed so close to his back you’re sure he feels your tears on his skin, and only when he says something to the men waiting for his command, do you realize how tall all of them are.

You try to look over his shoulder to see what’s happening, but you notice only small glimpses of Tae being surrounded by men and how he tries to scoot back. “Tae, don’t! They’ll help you” your voice wavers, you’re not sure of their intentions, but you have to hope that they will help. He stops struggling, and lets the men enclose him to look at his injuries.

Your head is stumped with all the emotions, and when the hand around your waste detaches to point something to the other men, you allow yourself to step back and sit against a tree trump, half-watching how their hands skim over your brothers’ legs to see whether he’s able to walk.

It’s a good minute of them looking over Tae’s injuries, you see one of them grab your backpack you threw in your brothers’ arms before searching for help, and thankfully Tae doesn’t fight them, and quickly gives whatever they ‘ask’ if you can even call it that. Fear hasn’t left his eyes, there’s still a chance they will take your stuff and leave you stranded, they didn’t seem happy of your presence - all you can do is hope.

You note how with such ease they open the backpack as if they do so regularly, perhaps they are a tribe, but dumb they are not, now looking at them you might even say they’re far more advanced than you are. Their clothes cover only their private parts, the closest thing to which you can relate it to is a leather skirt reaching up to their mid-thighs.

And yet, their bodies are resilient enough to withstand the cold and tropical weather. Wind doesn’t phase them, broad bodies standing firm and tall, whereas you’re sitting here, trembling – whether it’s from the wind or overload of emotions stays a secret.

You close your eyes in relief when you see them pick up your brother. Regardless of how hostile they were to you; they are not completely indifferent, or at least the man in control of them is. You open your eyes when you feel movement in front of you, only to be met by a hand reaching out.

When you look up, your gaze meets the man – the one to whom you’re probably indebted for the rest of your life. You take his hand in both of yours, but before he pulls you up, you say what you truly mean without breaking your gaze.

“Thank you.”

It’s a simple sentence that you’d look over regularly, but now, you put all of your soul into those two words – and you know he understands. Perhaps you don’t speak the same language, but at this exact moment you share the same truth and beat the same heart. The moment doesn’t last longer than a second, but his fingers tighten against yours and you feel the strings of an unspoken promise connecting you both.

But the moment passes as quickly as it came, you hear your brothers pained whimper and you whip your head towards the sound; you watch in slight intrigue and caution how the group of men carry him in their arms, one holding his shoulders, one his legs, and two his waist.

You don’t manage to utter a word before you’re pulled upwards, but when you balance your weight on both of your legs you hiss in pain and hold onto his arms. Now that the initial adrenaline slowly wears off, your own injuries from the fall have become visible.

The man whose name you still don’t know follows your gaze and quickly gathers the problem, you don’t have to say a single thing for him to drop his spear and bend down and inspect your foot; you see how he tries to be gentle, but on the slightest pressure on your ankle, you crumble forwards and balance on his shoulders.

“I’m so sorry” you quickly mumble in panic and straighten up, worried you’re overstepping any boundaries by touching him even if so by an accident, but he looks up and shoots you a gaze you could only describe as worried and apologetic.

There’s no time for you to react before he tuts and picks you up in his arms, the sudden movement leaving you breathless. But your alarmed facial expressions don’t phase him, and he simply starts moving forwards. You whip your head backwards to see the rest of the group following you, them carrying your brother close behind, at least some sort of reassurance filling you.

“Thank you, but you can put me down,” you turn back to the man carrying you, but you’re met with silence. “I can walk, it doesn’t hurt.” Lies, complete and utter lies. You feel your leg pulsate even without applying any pressure to it, but if you managed to walk beforehand, you should be able to do so now…right? Or is delusion truly taking over your brain?

The man holding you seems to agree, he doesn’t respond just gives you a look that screams ‘who are you trying to fool?’ that makes your shoulders drop and gaze lower in surrender. Your body is frigid, he surely feels it too, but your body is pressed so closely to his naked chest, that you swear you feel his heartbeat.

You try to keep yourself as far away as possible from his chest, but that seems to be pointless as he holds you closer when he steps over a fallen tree or ducks under a branch; you’re mortified, both from the understanding how much of a burden your presence has caused them, and also from the embarrassing intimacy the position brings you.

There is a reason why they were so scared of you, and yet they’ve overstepped it and most probably are bringing you to their shelter – their most sacred and protected space. You try to keep busy and memorize the way you’re going, after all you’ll need to follow the route tomorrow, but that seems to be harder than expected when there’s a living radiator engulfing you.

You try your best, you truly do, but your eyes betray you and your gaze falls on the arms carrying you; aside from the naked skin and natures shaped muscles you notice something else entirely. His skin is decorated in patterns, something similar to tattoos, just without ink, painting his skin in different designs. You don’t manage to explore it further, although your curiosity is spiked, as it seems he feels your wandering eyes and looks at you.

Embarrassed, you instantly avert your eyes, but you feel his gaze locking you in place. Couple of seconds pass before timidly you look up, but his gaze hasn’t moved, and your eyes meet; never before had you noticed how expressive one’s eyes are, the quiet dominance he possesses, and untold words shaping his eyes.

If you weren’t looking carefully, you would’ve missed it, but when he breaks eye contact, the corners of his lips slightly rise, almost as if he’s smug he caught you red-handed; the small detail makes you curl up even further, embarrassment too timid of a word to describe how you’re feeling.

You look up only when he starts speaking in his own tongue and slows down, and when you do, your breath is taken away. You’re not sure what you expected their shelter to look like, perhaps couple of sticks and a leaf roof; but now you’re looking at close to a small village.

Makeshift fence surrounds the self-made small houses, and from your vantage, you can’t see the end of it. People gather and cheer once they see their men returning, happy faces and children running up to greet them by the fence, but once they notice you in, as you guess, their leaders arms their cheers are overturned by worried looks and murmuring.

You watch in astonishment, not sure how the tribe has not yet been put on maps and history books, this surely is never before seen. The sparse knowledge you’ve of tribes say they consist of small numbers of people, all barely surviving the harsh ways of nature; but if you weren’t aware that you’re going into a tribe’s space, you would’ve easily mistaken it for a distant village from society.

You notice how the man carrying you moves carefully, almost as if following a pattern, avoiding certain potholes and paths. He oversteps barely visible strings, and you wonder whether that’s a trap to catch any dangerous animals threatening their home. You look over his shoulder and see the rest of the group following him in a stretched line, being just as careful as he is. It does leave you wondering, feeling as though you’re walking through a minefield.

The makeshift gate opens, and not even a full step into their territory you’ve to fight your inner need to run; everyone’s eyes are on you, a mix of fear and intrigue greeting you. You feel as though you’re a rare artifact ready to examen. More people gather, their shushed murmurs travelling with wind, and guilt bubbles in your chest knowing you’ve disturbed their reality once you notice how mothers protectively guide their children behind them.

Their gazes sweep up to the man carrying you, as if searching for some sort of consolation, and your previous hunch comes into fruition – he does hold some sort of respect within the group. Is it wrong to say you find some sort of comfort knowing the one they look up to is the one who protected you; suddenly his boundary overstepping touch doesn’t feel unwelcoming. You’ve a feeling as long as he stays on your side, you’ll be fine.

He carries you to what seems like a gathering place just before the fence, and carefully lets you down on a makeshift bench before a bonfire. You’re cautious with your movements, not wanting to scare anyone even more, but you instantly look around for your brother, slightly relaxing when he’s seated near you.

The man holds up a finger bringing your attention back to him, signaling for you to wait. Your gaze quickly goes back to your brother, who instantly meets your gaze with a concerned one, and uncomfortably you shift and point to him, “I’ll go to him if that’s alright.”

It’s pointless to expect any sort of a response from him, but he narrows his eyes and after couple of seconds of him unmoving, you testingly shift closer to Tae, all while watching his reaction. He doesn’t react, only slightly purses his lips. You feel his gaze on you, as if he’s analyzing your movements and your connection with Tae, but when you reach him, the man turns back to his people and addresses them. You take that as your que.

“I need you to stay calm, Tae-” but he doesn’t let you finish, “Stay calm?! We’re in middle of nowhere with people who might as well kill us!” you shush him and look around to check if somebody heard you; even if you don’t speak the same tongue, you know the man understood at least some words you had said.

As if it was confirmed, you notice how the man who saved you shoots you a look. “As of now, they haven’t done anything wrong,” you turn back to Tae, choosing to withhold how you were almost killed when they first saw you. “I promise, we’ll leave first thing tomorrow, but for now, do as they say and keep quiet.”

You take his hands into your own, holding onto the last bit of normalcy. He’s here, you’re both alive, you’ll be alright. “How do you feel?” after a moment you ask, his injuries don’t look too good, his skin is bruised, and if the men deemed it necessary to carry him, it can’t be good.

“Have felt better.” His dismissive tone tells you enough, and you squeeze his hand tighter, feeling extremely useless, not having a clue how you can help him. “I’m more worried about him.” Curious you look where he nods his head and see the leader stealing looks your way every now and then when his people speak.

“He’s not taking his eyes off of us.” He purses his lips in thought, “Or rather, you. I can’t forget how he looked at me in the forest, I thought he was going to kill me when you ran up to me.” You ponder over his words, you noticed how Tae fell back in fright when you approached him, but it does make sense for them to be cautious.

“Bee, I don’t think we should stay here. I don’t have a good feeling.” you try to shush him in vain, your dismissal only spurges him on, “I know this is my fault, I should’ve overthought it when I saw warnings of dangerous habitats and rumors of people going missing. But this was said to be one of the most beautiful hiking spots, so I-”

That is news to you, never before had he mentioned it to you, and you want to pry further, but one worried look thrown to the tribe and you see them already finishing their talk, people moving in different directions and the leader coming your way.

“You’ll tell me tomorrow-” but he interrupts in an exasperated manner, “We can’t stay here!” you glance at the leader and how he stops near you, far enough to not be seen if you wouldn’t be looking, but close enough to hear.

“Listen to me, we’re good.” Rushed, you grab his cheeks and strongly whisper, “We need the shelter, and they’ve been good to us. I’ll protect you.” His eyes fill with tears, and your heart squeezes seeing your brother so vulnerable, both from the injuries and fear.

You hug him and massage his back, trying to give some sort of support. You’re just as terrified as he is, but right now you have to be strong; the pressure of being the oldest child falling on your shoulders, the one responsibility you’ll never manage to evade, no matter the hardships you go through.

You notice people gathering around you, distant enough for their safety, yet close enough for you to feel enclosed. You slowly detach from Tae and get startled when you notice how the leader is standing right in front of you; it’s nerve-wracking how quiet their steps are.

A woman comes up to him, holding some sort of ceramic bowl in her hands. She’s careful holding it, and you notice she’s doing her best to not spill the liquid inside. Nerves creep back into your system when the leader grabs your hands, and helps you stand up, thus separating you from your brother.

You timidly watch how the woman hands him the bowl and he nods his head in gratitude, the exchange only further showing the respect woven within their group. He presses the bowl to your lips, and your back straightens, all caution signals awakened in your body.

The brownish-green liquid touches your lips and alarmed you back away biting back a whimper when you put your weight on your hurt leg and fearfully ask, “What is that?”. For all you know, it could be poison, Taes previous words still travel through your mind of how people have disappeared.

He doesn’t answer, just raises one eyebrow in a challenging manner. You’ve a bad suspicion you don’t have a choice in the matter, and you know for a fact disrespecting their leader would be the end of you, especially when they show such high regards to him.

And yet, you don’t know their ulterior motives. You hear Taehyungs worried voice calling you, and you know, if you refuse, you’ll put both of you in danger. “I’m fine, don’t worry.” You try your best to sound convincing, but your voice wavers, and you have to gulp down your fears and hope, hope that these people have a sense of empathy for you.

He steps forward and presses the bowl once more to your lips, and you meet his gaze with your shaky eyes and surrendered ask, “If I drink it, he won’t have to, right?”. His eyes narrow in something you can only describe as mix of annoyance and confusion; he tilts the bowl forwards and you’re met with the bitter liquid.

You try to pull away, but he tilts your head higher, and you’re forced to drink the acrid liquid, your eyes water; only when the bowl is empty, he lets you go, and you fall into uncontrollable coughs. The unpleasant taste overpowering any other sense.

Still coughing, you turn to Tae, only to see him drinking the same liquid with a disgusted expression. The taste seems worse when you don’t know what exactly it is you’re drinking. Only when Tae has finished his drink, the group of people backs up with nods of approval and seem to fall back into their daily regime.

“What was that?” he coughs when you sit beside him, but you ignore his question being lost yourself, “Do you feel any different?” you try to focus your gaze and work out what the liquid was. You’re not in any extra pain, and you’re breathing fine, you doubt it was poison.

“Not really.” He shrugs his shoulders, and you fall into silence, overthinking what just happened. Was he testing you? Is it some sort of medicine? Your mind threatened to burst from all the thoughts running through it, a migraine impending, but then, as if in a snap of a finger your mind became quiet.

A sense or serenity washes over you, where everything seems less important than it is. “Bee?” you hum back, “Those girls are reeeaally pretty.” His slurred speech makes you turn to him with a questioning gaze. He’s watching two women giggling to one another and shooting Tae inquisitive gazes.

“Are you okay?” you’re not sure how his mind can go there, when the only thing that’s on your mind is his well-being, but now even that thought seems buried somewhere far away. “Oh, I’m good.” He gives you a lopsided grin, and you let out a cackle in disbelief, you turn to the women and have to agree, they are beautiful, hair shining due to the ferocious bonfire, smiles gleaming and eyes full of mischief.

“Where are you going?” you grab his hand when he stands up, but he lightheartedly shrugs it off, “I wanna talk to them.” And just like that, he’s gone, you shout one last time whether he’s fine, after all, his skin is colored in deep purple shades, but with a slight limp he shouts not to worry.

You sit there, slightly offended of being left all alone; all you wish to do is hug your brother close and sleep off all the exhaustion, but apparently your minds work in different trajectories. Dejected you watch him going up to the two girls, his social-butterfly skills coming into play as you hear laughter coming from their way.

Your shoulders relax and you watch all around you for a place to rest your head, the wooden trunk bench hurting your back. You fixate on a tree behind you, but when you stand up, the effects of whatever you drank come full-force. Your mind can’t process the sudden movement, and you feel gravity calling your name as everything around you becomes blurry.

Stumbling, you fall against the tree and rest your head against it, head feeling dizzy; you close your eyes, focusing on breathing, but your mind is filled with pulsating waves. You don’t know how much times has passed, if you had to guess, a couple of minutes, but the presence of time is barely credible, in matter of a blink, nightfall has overtaken sky, and stars blind you.

You have to force your eyes to stay open, and when you do and try to focus on the environment around you, confusion overtakes your body; it felt like couple of minutes, but everything has changed.

Bonfire lights up everything in the near distance, people have gathered all around it, some playing home-made instruments, that you could only guess are something alike harmonicas, flutes, and drums in midst of those you don’t recognize. Benches are filled with people humming along and chitchatting. Upon further inspection, you’re sure that’s your brother sitting on a bench, trying to sing along to the unfamiliar tune and laughing with a group of girls encircling him.

You shake your head at your brothers’ doings, always been jealous of his ways of living, the way he’s capable of making connections with people he just met and enjoying every color and shade life gifts. But you’re at peace here, sitting behind them and overlooking their happiness from afar.

You’re completely relaxed and calm when a couple of unsteady feet run past you, tripping over a rock; you automatically reach your hands out and catch the little creature of happiness. Big, blue eyes gaze up at you, and your heart tugs at their adoring smile, small teeth showing through lips, probably just breaking out from gums.

“Are you okay?” you ask the small child in an amused tone, only for them to bite their fingers and giggle all while shaking their head. You realize your emotions are heightened when you’re close to crying when the little one squeezes your cheeks and babbles something that goes over your head.

The single interaction leaving you with heart fuller of love than the whole year prior, you let the child go and watch how the small beacon of light runs to a woman standing and overlooking you both with a smile on her face.

She picks him up and kisses his face as he smiles and tries to get away. You wonder why these people are so feared, when all you see is energy filled with love and happiness. You relish the warmth, not sure whether it’s due to the fire or the love and comfort filled atmosphere. Whichever it is, you relinquish in it, and find your body and mind more relaxed than ever. The feeling so sought for after all these years.

You smile when the woman holding her child comes up to you and sits down. Usually, your mind would be filled with anxiousness of how to interact with an unknown person, but now you just smile and tell her your name, completely lost of the fact she doesn’t understand a single word.

But she doesn’t have to, she grabs your hand and squeezes it tight, whole-heartedly welcoming your presence. She shoots you a smile, and right then and there you melt at the sight, her smile so warm and motherly you want to hide in her protective arms.

Your emotions come into play once more, and you feel yourself tearing up – from what you’ve no clue, but the amount of love and peace you feel is overwhelming. “Are you alright?” She laughs at your uncontrollable emotions, “I’m alright, please don’t mind me.” You wipe your tears and try to calm down, until a realization downs your mind. She spoke English.

Quickly you turn your head to her smiling frame, overjoyed of her knowing your language, completely missing the puzzle peace of how she could know English.

“You understand me! You speak English!” your elated expression makes her laugh linger; she shakes her head with a smile and pats the child’s blonde hair who very comfortably sits in her lap, “Little, our Jungookie knows best.” She points where the group has gathered, you follow her gaze to be met with the leader, finally gathering his name. He feels your gaze and instantly looks up, but you don’t waver, enthralled by the newfound information.  

If your mind was working clear, you would’ve been terrified by the knowledge, not only because of the missing information of how they know it, but also from overthinking what exactly have you spoken that could incriminate you. But it doesn’t. And you’re happy knowing you’ve found someone whose roots are entangled with yours.

“You’re amazing.” You look back to her with a gaze one could only describe as being love filled, but you truly are amazed by all of them, how strong and kind they are despite all life throws their way. The woman tuts, smile never leaving for a minute, you’re not bothered by how she looks at you as if you’re a child confessing their love, you simply enjoy this moment.

Weight falling into your lap overtakes your attention, and you watch how the little one snuggles in both of your laps and stretches his little arms. “Aren’t you a cutie?” you ask only for him to shoot you his brightest smile. You tickle the little skin that shows through his cloth, and watch overjoyed how he giggles and tries to scoot away from the ticklish sensation. You laugh as if you’re being tickled yourself, his happiness extremely contagious.

The woman says something in her language to the child, and you watch how he quickly nods his head and climbs in her lap, but not before he throws his entire weight on you and gives you a hug. You’re a complete stranger to the group, and yet they’ve managed to make you feel more welcomed than anyone before.

You’re enthralled by their ways of living, and you watch how gently the woman interacts with, presumably, her child, although you note how different they look to one another. You attention is piqued when she moves her clothes to what you assume is breastfeed the boy, you quickly move your head to others, ready to move in front of her to shield her from any nasty comments and dirty looks, but when you do, no one cares.

Some women around the fire breastfeed their children, and you’re confused by the lack of acknowledgment and uninterest showed by others. But then again, you guess that some behaviors are thought.

She hums in wonder when she notices your on-guard reaction, but you simply shake your head, lost in wonder of their ways. You don’t stop the incredulous laugh bubbling through your chest and sit back against the tree in disbelief of how differently the world works for you.

“Do you often go outside of your home?” You break the comfortable silence, the question bugging your mind ever since you saw her peoples terrified expressions. She looks confused at your question, and you point outside to the forest, not sure if she understands what you’re saying.

Realization dawns upon her, and she quickly shakes her head seemingly bothered by the change in topic, “No, no, no,” her movements become more agitated, and the little one detaches from her breast from the sudden movement, “There – bad,” she fixes the cloth like dress and points to the forest, “Very, very bad, we stay here – safe.”

The question clearly made her uncomfortable, if the frown on her lips is anything to go by, whether it’s bad memories or what, but the way her tone gets agitated and her hand gestures more animated makes you lean in and nod your head in faux understanding, completely lost to the fact you might be the one they’re so scared of.

“Men go there, food.” she points once again to the forest, shiver travelling up her spine, “We here, safe. Here good.” The woke of emotions makes her loose track of English, she spurts out some words you don’t recognize, but the way she emphasizes ‘here good’, makes you believe her, as if you understand each and every word.

It does make you think how it would be to live here, her confident and pressing tone leaves you wondering whether she’s right. You watch how the little one stands up on his wobbly feet, denying the urge within yourself to help him, and runs to the group of people sitting by the fire.

You’re curious when he stops by another woman, and she takes him in her arms without a single thought and showers him in kisses. You watch the interaction and wonder which of the two women is his mother, but then again – it’s their world, they don’t hold such strict rules like you do.

The woman besides you doesn’t care, just smiles at the interaction, and shakes her head. When she gets up to leave, a weird sense of remorse overtakes you, you wish to hold out your hand and ask her to stay, surprisingly, her presence brings you comfort, but you don’t.

But by the look on her face, she knows how you’re feeling, and she pats your hair in a motherly way, and says, “Not worry. You’re not alone. Am not the only who speak to you.” Your brows furrow trying to distinguish her words, and you follow her gaze to the group, and see the leader, or as you gathered, Jungkook, looking at you. He doesn’t look threatening, the joyous atmosphere making him look younger, but his unmoving gaze makes you feel small, not sure how long he’s been watching you.

You look back to her when she hums, “Sweetie, he watching you all night.” You acknowledge her smile, although the meaning of her words travels right past your ears, “I see you later.” And with the last pat to your hair, she’s gone. You hope you’ll see her later, even if it’s just before you leave, and with a childish gleam you smile knowing you’ve made a friend.

It’s hard to control your mind, as if the pulsating ideas and emotions bubble form previously suppressed parts within yourself. Parts you longed for, but never was able to meet. Suddenly everything seems sweet, the cruel ways of life unknown.

You watch in delight how relaxed everyone around you is, the way their bodies sway to music, how gently some man massages woman’s shoulders, how in such delight someone combs their fingers through a woman’s hair, you laugh noticing how a man giggles when children surround him jumping up and down asking to be picked up. Wherever you look, you’re filled with peaceful happiness.

In day-to-day life, you’d be waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the sweetness to rot and ask for a price for the moment of happiness, but even if it does, you’d be willing to do it again just to experience these couple of moments of untainted happiness.

You must look pitiful, sitting all alone, your eyes watering with unshed tears once again, but you don’t have the means within you to blame yourself. You realize it’s probably the drink you had that’s making the walls of your heart crumble, you should be worrying of how to leave this place early morning, or even analyze the possible danger you’re facing, but your mind feels at ease, heart crumbling to vulnerability and honesty. If the gates were to open and they’d ask you to leave right this instance, you’re sure, you’d be begging to stay.

“Hi,” you sniffle and look up where the voice comes from. You freeze when you realize the leader is standing right in front of you; somewhere in the depts of your mind you know you’ve to be on your best behavior, but the emotions have taken you deep within and you meekly greet him before wiping your tears.

If you were under normal circumstances, you’d be embarrassed of someone seeing you cry, but even though your emotions are hitting all time high, your mind is at ease, as if nothing in this world could make you worried.

His brows furrow seeing your distraught state, “Are you alright? Does your leg hurt?” you shake your head in dismissal, but he still bends down and gently presses his fingers against your ankle. Stunned, you watch his fingers massaging your leg; not long ago, you couldn't properly stand, so why does his touch feel welcoming and not hurtful?

“No…it doesn’t...?” dazed, you search his eyes for an answer, but all he does is smile at your pouty lips and confused expression, “That’s good, isn’t it?” his smile is comforting, and you nod your head lost of words to say.

“Why are you crying then? Are you scared?” his hands continue massaging your leg, and you don’t even flinch when he rips the ends of your jeans for more access to your skin. You sigh at how warm his touch feels, even though he’s dressed in less layers, his skin is burning in comparison to yours, “No, no,” you shake your head, and he tilts his head, giving you all of his attention, “You just look so peaceful.”

Your eyes keep wandering to the joyous group in front of you, a weird sense of longing fills your body. You miss the way he carefully analyzes your expression, mind lost in wonders of emotions, too focused on his gentle touch and warm atmosphere.

“It’s the drink, isn’t it?” you look back at him when he hums questioningly, “That’s making me feel this way? This weird calmness when everything is just so pretty?” if beforehand you thought his smile was beautiful, now you’re ready to drown in his pearly whites, watching in childish delight how his smile grows. You can’t stop yourself and lightly trace the dimple on his cheek his hand falling over yours.

“Partially,” He caresses your hand, and gently separates it from his cheek, “It shows your true emotions,” you close to melt when he pecks your hand before laying it in your lap, both of your hands entangled, “all the repressed thoughts, desires.”

You squeeze his hand, trying to stay focused on what he’s saying, but your attention drives to his eyes, noticing how his own pupils seem dilated, and you wonder whether he also drank the liquid. “Everything you’ve tried to hide.” His hands move to your knees and unconsciously your muscles tighten, the warm contact unexpected, yet desired.

“Could I-” you bite your lip, not sure whether you should ask, but the words push past all your peripheries; perhaps you’re too comfortable, but the way his eyes stay in a permanent smile and his steady gaze fixates on you, as if nothing else is important makes your mind feel at such ease, the words escape you before you manage to overthink them.

“Could I have some more, please?” even if you’ll regret those words when haze clears from your mind, selfishly, you don’t want this moment to end; his touch is gentle, and he caresses a stray strand of hair from your face, you watch how he nods his head all while a smile spreads across his face - it’s not malicious or devious, it’s comforting.

His presence is comforting. As if there’s no bad in the world – as if you can do no bad. “Of course, you can.” You can’t even pretend to feel guilty when his actions are so validating. Without any excuses or ridicule, he gets up and walks towards the group, where you notice a pot by the fire. Only now you see the cup being passed around the bonfire, gleaming flames and shining stars illuminates the free spirit of those around you.

You notice another previously missed detail – even though his hair reaches just above shoulders, a single braid, longer than his hair, graces down his back. You watch in wonder another sign of his culture, quickly realizing that no other man shares the same detail. You wonder whether it signifies his position within the tribe.

Even though most of the tribe members you’ve seen are on the younger side, an older male, probably no older than 50, sits by himself away from the fire. You watch in wonder the lone individual, wondering why he’s the only one keeping away from his people. But what catches your attention is the same braid that decorates Jungkooks hair, only his being twice as long.

He doesn’t seem bothered, every now and then he looks up from sharpening his spear, but his eyes scream sorrow when he gazes at the youngsters mingling, and you wonder what’s hiding behind his pain.

His sorrowful eyes awaken a need for you to comfort him, and you’re ready to go up to him, before your attention is cascaded back to Jungkook who returns to his previous spot, down on his knees between your legs, only now he’s holding a cup in his hands.

You quickly divert your attention back to him, the lonesome man forgotten, and with newfound excitement greet him, as if you haven’t seen him in days, although it was a couple of minutes at best, “Hi!” your smile is contagious as you see his own smile growing.

“Long time no see,” his pearly whites press against his lips when you giggle; you’re sure he could say whatever, funny or not, and you’d still be a giggling mess. He presses the cup in your hands, and you grimace at the smell.

“I realized I still don’t know your name,” he mutters as you take a sip of the drink, trying to hold back a cough. Shuddering from the taste you look at him, “Everyone calls me Bee,” his confused expression urges you for an explanation.

“You know, like the little insects with wings,” you flutter your hands imitating flying, “Why?” you take another sip and nonchalantly answer, “Always hard-working.”

You look down at the dark liquid with a grimace, completely missing the way his eyebrows scrunch and the scowl on his lips, “How is that going for you?”, the drink works its magic, and you spit out the first thing that comes into your mind while snickering, “Awful, but you know, strong independent woman.” You smile and show off your muscles.  

Your words may be harsh, but your mind blurs the meaning of them, as if you’re unable to keep anything behind closed lips and sweetened truth. “Would you like some?” you press the cup against his lips, mind flying all over the place.

Ones culture is an interesting concept, the action means nothing to you, but the way his eyes quickly zero-in on your face, puppy eyes searching whether you’re joking, must hold a deeper meaning.

He takes a sip of the drink, not breaking your eye contact. His eyes are shining in delight, from what exactly you’re not sure, but you do know one thing – whatever you just done must’ve meant something to him.

You close your eyes and feel the effects drown your mind in pulsating waves, every beat of the instruments playing in the background resonates in your body, your heart beats pressing in your chest, and all the exhaustion leaving your shoulders. You feel at peace, as if a comforting blanket is thrown over your body.

But the freer your body feels, the less in control of your actions you become. It should be terrifying, how fuzzy everything is, but you let it take control.

You feel his hand caressing your hair and hum in pleasure, “Why are you not afraid?” you slightly open your eyes and note how that feels like a task in itself, “Of what?” you tilt your head and gratefully accept the liquid when he presses the cup to your lips.

“Me.” He wipes the corners of your lips, curiosity shining in his eyes, you note how he seems more in control of his actions, whereas it’s hard for you to hold onto a single thought, “You could’ve hurt me if you wanted to, but instead you’ve taken care of me more than anyone before.”

“And if I’m being honest,” you giggle to yourself, “Even if you would hurt me now, I wouldn’t care, I’ve never felt so good.” He shakes his head at your words, “I’m not going to hurt you.” His tone is serious, and you can see he means his words when he puts down the drink and cups your cheeks.

It’s hard to focus on his words, and you know he’s doing his best to hold your attention, when he turns your head to meet his gaze, “You promise?” his brow arches at your challenging eyes. You hold up your pinky finger and giggle at his lost expression.

Unsure, he puts his pinky finger next to yours, and you wrap yours around his, “I’ll hold this promise till your dying breath, if you break it, you’ll be downgraded to a typical man, and trust me-” you beckon him closer, “That’s a veery low standard.”

He shakes his head with a smile, and you rest against the tree. You take the cup in your hands and notice another detail, “That’s pretty.” You murmur looking at his hands. Now, free of all concerns how you might look and what you should and shouldn’t say you look closer at the designs across his skin.

Uncaring, you draw your fingers against his biceps, “How did you make it?” his eyes are focused on your fingers, and you smile when you feel goosebumps covering his skin, “Knife.” His voice is noticeably deeper, and you internally wince imagining knife drawn across his skin.

“It must’ve hurt…” you outline your fingers over a spiral like bump, “Worth it if you like it.” You look up and laugh at his wide grin, he takes your hand and draws your fingers over the spiral, “This one is life cycle,”

“This one,” he notes four felixes connected by a line, “Strength.” You look over the lines, half listening to his explanations, but you notice how the shapes look only half-completed over his chest, “These aren’t finished…”

“No, no. Each section represents something, this one,” he puts your hand over his chest, “Can’t finish it yet.” The tattoos look weirdly out of place, half-started lines, and shapes, missing their significance.

He gazes at his lower arm, “This is family, and this,” he moves his bicep, “Strength. Back is for pride, and chest,” he smiles when you continue exploring the lonesome bumps, “Higher self. Love.” That catches your attention, “Love is your highest self?”  

“Of course, without it you’re incomplete. One half of a whole.” You hum, not able to disagree. “Well then, I hope you’ll be able to finish it soon.” You feel his heartbeat under your palm, skin so warm, like a woolen blanket in midst of winter. “I think I will.”

His whisper goes over your head, with each passing second you feel your body slipping further into depths of your mind, and when Jungkook presses the cup final time against your lips asking you to drink up, you mindlessly follow his command.

Shivers travel down your spine, the horrid taste clings to your tongue, and you force yourself to swallow the acrid drink. “You’re fine,” he strokes your back when you cough, not sure how he’s able to drink it without any reaction.

But the feeling is worth it, almost instantly the effects pull you under, this time, twice as hard. You close your eyes and enjoy the feeling, stars dancing in your mind. Jungkooks hand detaches from your back, and subconsciously you grab it and pull him closer, a weird craving nips your body, longing for some sort of physical touch.

“Don’t do that.” You mumble with drawn eyebrows. Alarm bells ring in your mind, fear, if he pulls back the coldness will seep back in. “If I could, I’d stay here forever,” you can’t control your words, all the unconscious thoughts pouring over.

“Why can’t you?” his question leaves your brain on a pause. Truly, why can’t you? You open your eyes and see his face right in front of yours, the stars that shined in your mind shine brighter in his eyes. Now looking at him you can’t remember why you can’t stay; you can’t remember all you fight for in your day-to-day.

All of it seems pointless. Would anyone care if you wouldn’t return? Rather, would anyone notice if you wouldn’t return? The thought leaves a deep bruise over your heart, and you don’t lie when you whisper, “I don’t know.”

Be it some underlying scar, but you wish to feel something real. His body is so close to yours, yet it feels as though you’re separated by winters of seas. The small distance is freezing, and you pull his hand closer to your chest, hoping, he’d close the distance and pull you into his warmth.

The desire to feel his touch is overbearing, your eyes fill with tears of unsaid words, it’s hard to express what you’re feeling, when the emotion is so deep rooted you can’t grab onto its essence. You search his eyes, begging him to understand, but the man in front of you looks just as starved as you are, and you know, you both share the same scars.

You don’t say a word when he moves closer, you don’t need to. Same understanding fills you, and you know he feels the same. His breath fawns over your lips, defrosting years long winter, and when his lips connect with yours, all is lost, and the eternal glaciers melt with the first caress of sun.

The action seems so natural, his lips over yours at place, you don’t want him to pull back. His touch is hot against yours, his hand climbing up your thigh, and you feel as though you’re melting in his arms.

But thoughts of your brother needing you pulls you back, as comforting as his touch feels, you also know it can’t last. You detach from his lips, worry of Tae clouding your mind, but it’s hard to hold on to it, when his lips move to your neck, sinfully gliding over your skin.

“Jungkook,” your hands wove in his hair, “I can’t.” you have to forcefully mutter those words, every inch of your body screaming otherwise. But just as hard as it is for you to say it, it’s the same for him to detach from your skin.

He looks you in the eye seriously, looking for any sense of truth when he knows, that’s not how you’re feeling, “What’s holding you back?”. Your mind is in a great war with your truest self, both sides screaming one at another, and you crumble under the pressure you unknowingly cage yourself in.

“My brother. I can’t do this, he needs me.” But your words don’t ring a sense of understanding to him, he shakes his head and guides your head where your brother is sitting, “I’d say he’s doing quite well.”

His lips return to your neck, and you watch how your brother is kissing one of the women from before, completely lost in his own world, without a care of anything around him. You bite your lip when his teeth graze at a particularly sensitive spot near your jaw, it’s hard to fight against your inner turmoil when the one thing you truly long for, has fallen in your arms.

But if Tae can be free within himself, why can’t you? The high ice walls of your heart slowly crumble with each swipe of his tongue and before you know it, you cave in, and pull your legs closer against his hips.

You let him take the lead, and loose yourself in the feeling; your eyes watch how prettily stars shine on both of you, never before have you seen such pretty skies, you’re sure somewhere they’ve aligned, teaching you meaning behind unconditional love.

You don’t protest when his hands wrap around your legs and pulls you up and leads you somewhere – you don’t even care where, when his touch is the only thing, you care for. But as you’re leaving the site, your eyes connect with the lonesome man, he looks at you in curiosity, and stops sharpening his weapon, for a second you see the vulnerability in his eyes, memories travelling through the pits of his cold gaze, and you wonder, what is his story.

Darkness of night separates you from his silhouette, the further along you go, the more trust you’ve to put in the arms carrying you, you’ve lost all sense of control, but it’s hard to seek it, when it’s the first time you’ve felt no need for it.

You realize you trust him, trust him to guide you right, trust him to cherish you for this night; it’s not an easy task for someone like you, sharp walls crashing anyone who steps too close for your own safety, but you know tonight is different, when every part of you wishes to let him take control, and seep into the depths of his gentle caresses.

Time is a subordinate under his compelling will, you can’t focus on anything else but the way your hearts beat the same union; whatever he wishes and does, you’ll comply, not because of a need to be owned or told what to do, but because you know, he won’t do anything to hurt you.

He holds you tighter than the sanity of his dubious thoughts, you both know whatever this is might end up costing more than the freedom itself, but what is freedom, when the others touch brings you back to life?

Your tongues stay entangled one with another, his muscle teases you, never quite giving you what you wish him to, but never leaves you stranded. He dips his tongue over yours, but pushes it back, leaving you to seek for it more, but just when you think he’s left you wanting, his tongue entangles with your own, sharing the same passion and longing, giving you every part of his essence, the good and bad expressed with desire.

You feel your body ascending, and when you open your eyes, you see him climbing up stairs, all the houses and entangled couples looking smaller with each step, you know he’s making sure to keep you safe. His hands gripping your lower tights, pressing your body closer till your breath runs out.

Your mind solely focuses on the feeling, completely dismissing the environment around you; you feel soft furs beneath your body, only accelerating the growing warmth inside of you, never before felt combination of comfort and affection. It’s as though your minds are combined, golden strings mark your desires, growing stronger and bolder with each passing minute.

Lost in the sensation of soft touches and heartfelt kisses, you don’t notice your vulnerability beneath him; how could you notice your clothes scattered on the wooden floor, when his body heats every part within you in scorching desire, his caresses draw your mind further in the auroras of pleasure, not a single part of you left unattended and unkissed.

You arch your back, chest pressed against his, when you feel your inner emptiness filled, and your bodies finally bound; you sigh in relief, pinpointing the churning feeling finally relieved when he presses himself deeper within your walls, and wraps his hands around your body, not a single share left for the winter’s harsh winds.

His body is everywhere, inside you, around you, within you; as if every part of you is his, just as every part of him – yours. If someone told you, you’re one peace of a soul, you wouldn’t doubt it for a second; every escaped moan and curse, he catches with his lips, and every time his hips move away from yours, your hands press them back in, wrapped around his lower back, preventing the sought for feeling disappear.

But you don’t have to worry of him disappearing, for as much as your soul yearns for its mark of belonginess, his yearns tenfold. Your every touch and escaped moan awakens his untamed desire, every part of him, solely dedicated to you. He kisses your fallen tears and ruptured scars, knowing he is the one to mend them, even if it takes his own blood and tears, he’ll make sure your souls are woven together; for what he bleeds you soothe, and for what you pain, he mends.  

You’re alive within the feeling, your only focus on pleasure and essence, when you closed your eyes, the darkness of nights secrets held you safe, but when you open them, beams of light showcased life’s truth. And not a single moment between them left unpleasurable.

Jungkook lays across your chest, head pressed against your breasts softly kissing your fingers, your own hand is sprayed across his back, caressing it in gentle patterns, your legs entangled with one another. The feeling of fullness hasn’t left you, and you refuse to move, all the pieces finally connecting.

Your mind is as fuzzy as ever, enjoying the warmth that comes from two people understanding each other, laying in their soft caresses and untold love confessions. Your fingers draw over the bumps on his back, and you note the small, straight lines covering his back, taking extra care to not touch the two that are still healing.

“Why haven’t you finished your chest tattoos?” your voice is groggy, and you have to clear your voice to get an even tone. He stops his movements hearing your voice, and turns his head to face you, a small smile adorning his face, completely at peace enjoying your warmth, “I told you, didn’t I?”

Your purse your lips in thought, something you weren’t able to process the first time he told you, “Well, yes. But your family loves you, doesn’t it count?” You saw the respect they hold for him first-hand, that sort of love can’t be attained by anyone, and by the looks of it, he must know it.

“It has to be your other half.” He shakes his head and kisses your breasts. “I, provide safety and strength,” he flexes his muscles, and sneaks his hands around your waist making you giggle, your skin too responsive to his touch.

“Woman provides knowledge,” he caresses your hair, “Truth,” he whispers against your chest, “Life.” He moves to your lower belly, and gently kisses the skin, not taking his eyes off of you, “We’re incomplete without a woman.”

There’s no time to contemplate his words when he continues, “We come from a woman. We’re a part of a woman. No man can ever be without his other half.”. You caress his hair, wishing that was the case in real life, but his words seem too sweet to hold truth, even your non-reliable emotions see past it.

“Then why do you hurt women?” You don’t overthink the question, it’s something that has always been bugging your mind. Such high praise, yet so little truth. But if your words don’t ring an alarm bell for you, it does for him. He lifts his head from your stomach and shoots you an unsure gaze.

“We don’t.”

“But what if you do?” You don’t mean to challenge him; no animosity clouds your words, but you’re truly curious of the way their brains work. Seeing you not drop the subject Jungkook scoots closer to you, and you hold his cheeks and send him a smile.

You watch in curiosity when he brings his finger to his lips, and sharply bites down; you’re about to question his actions but you’re left dumbfounded when he drags his bleeding finger across your forehead.

His blood marks your skin, but his actions don’t stop; he takes your hand in his own, and softly kisses your index finger before breaking the skin with his teeth. He’s noticeably gentler than when he bit his own, but your still let out a hiss from the sharp feeling.

He traces your bleeding finger across his own forehead, now both of you marked in each other’s blood before he carefully places it in his mouth to stop further bleeding. His eyes scan your mark in satisfaction, as if just proven a point, and your fuzzy brain works overtime to understand what just happened.

“No being can live without half of their soul. If you hurt it, you go along with it. Death.” His tone is serious, and your brain scrambles to form any eligible meaning behind them, but it’s hard to focus when his lips travel to your lower belly, slow with his actions, yet ever so persistent.

He shows his beliefs through his actions, and your back arches once again when his wet muscle traces your most sensitive part in gentle, but firm patterns. Day turns into night, and time into blur when all you can hold onto is passion drowning you deeper and deeper in its reigns.

For the first time you experience the meaning of love in its truest form; no laws or calculated motives color it in tantalized obligations. Even if it’s taken from you tomorrow, you know it has engraved itself in the depths of your soul; you know you’ll spend forever trying to find someone who’ll manage to fill even half of your desires like Jungkook could. Someone who’ll manage to show you love even half as passionate and true like he has.

But for now, you’ll enjoy the fleeting moment, and dive deep into the pits that is Jungkook, letting him caress your every curve, and kiss your imperfections like the treasure gold. Because it is just that, nothing less than a treasure you spend your whole life searching for.

You’ll allow him to love you like no other, hold you close like the other part of him, because even if it’s just for today, he is that to you, he is the one who kisses your scars and melts your fears. He is the one, you’ll be longing after your whole life. But that’s okay, because his arms are the first to protect you from winters frost and throwing spears, he is the one you’ll have to leave for your long last fears.

~

Never before have you awakened so refreshed. As if every part of your body, every nerve and muscle, has had a restart. The sound of birds chirping makes you open your eyes, your still half-asleep mind trying to understand what’s happening. You stretch in the make-shift bed, covered in furs and wool, warmth surrounds your body and light floods in through the cracks in the wooden walls.

You prop yourself up on elbows, it takes you a minute to understand where you’re located, but when you do, and your mind is clear enough for some understanding to flood in, you freeze in shock. Quickly you look around, and relieved breath out realizing you’re the only one in the make-shift house.

You plop back onto the bed and drag your hands over your face; you’re not sure how to feel about everything that transpired, the thought alone of everyone seeing you and Jungkook making out horrifies you. Taehyung saw you. He will never let you live it down.

You groan in embarrassment; you’ve utterly failed in your position as oldest sister. And you know you can’t blame it all on the drink either, after all, Jungkook did say it shows one’s inner desires, not make you act like a hormonal teenager.

In the depths of your self-wallowing, you come to an even more embarrassing conclusion – you don’t regret it. It’s hard to when your mind takes you back to his gentle caresses and sweet nothings. Your cheeks heat up remembering previous nights events. If they even were previous nights events? Through your still slightly foggy mind you recall seeing light flooding in and out.

But you do know one thing, whatever it was, was a one-time thing, and you need to leave before he comes back and the embarrassment spirals. You don’t know how you can face him; you know you’ll be awkward, and after all you weren’t the only who drank the questionable liquid, he must feel just as embarrassed as you do.

In hurry, you get up, and when you stand, you notice leaves wrapped around your previously hurt foot; your heart squeezes at the thoughtful gesture, which only further shows how much you need to leave. Now.

But that turns out to be harder than hoped to be – your clothes are nowhere in sight, so you grab a cloth hanging besides the bed, and do your best to wrap it around your body. You’re not sure how they wear it day-to-day, when you feel like one wrong move will make it fall. But then again, that’s just another example of how much you don’t belong here.

You notice a bowl of food besides the bed, carefully you touch it to see it’s still warm; that’s good, he must’ve left not so long ago. It’s hard to pint-point him as someone you should avoid when all of his actions are so caring.

It’s shame that drives you to escape his space, careful, going down the stairs, as your mind works slower than it usually does. Most of all you’re shocked by your own actions, never had you thought you’d fall victim to your desires, never had you known those sorts of desires even where part of your mind. But it does leave one question lingering, how well do you even know yourself, if you, without all the societies pressures and life’s barriers, are a stranger to yourself?

You try to rid all the unnecessary thoughts, focusing on finding your brother so you could finally leave. It’s a bittersweet goodbye when the place has thought you more about love than your whole life, but you don’t recognize yourself here, and that’s a too horrid thought to live with.

You look around the habitable, you were too out of it to notice where Jungkook led you, and this place is far too big for you to manage and find one person. Makeshift houses sit one by another, people following their daily regimes. You’re wandering around, trying to find at least one person you recognize, but the angel overlooking you has chosen to arise, when you notice the sweet woman who talked to you.

“Hi!” you call out for her; she’s talking to a slightly older woman, both standing in front of what seems to be a large water storage. She looks at you and recognition flash her eyes, and you breath out what could’ve been another awkward situation.

Your rush closer to her, but the closer you come to them, their actions stop, and they focus on your appearance, or more like, your forehead. Self-conscious you drag your fingers through your hair, you’re sure you look crazy, just woken up, hair all over the place and eyes blurry from your tumbling mind.

But they don’t look disgruntled, rather shocked, which turn to utmost happiness when you stop besides them, and they take a good look at you. You’re confused when she lightly hits the others woman’s shoulders, all while not taking her gaze off you.

“Have you seen my brother? Tae?” You look at her, hoping to gain some sort of information, but her unbreaking ‘deer caught in headlights’ gaze makes you awkwardly shuffle from one foot to another.

Their gazes meet and they fall into fits of laughter, she puts her hand over her mouth concealing a disbelief laugh but the other woman isn’t bothered to conceal her happiness, she puts her hands to the sky and chants something in her tongue.

You look confused at the woman you recognized, hoping she sees your lost appearance, but she takes a step closer to you, and you do your best to not flinch away when she drags her fingers over your forehead, light enough to barely feel.

You go to touch it yourself, but the chorus of simultaneous “No’s,” makes you stop in an instant. But you know it must be something about your forehead, their gazes haven’t left it for a second. Perplexed you move closer to the water storage and look at your reflection; to your utmost dismay, you notice on what they’re so focused on.

Instantly you dip your finger in water, embarrassed they saw Jungkooks dried blood marking your forehead. The little detail completely lost in the turbulence of previous events, all feeling like a fever-dream.

Just when water touches the mark, your hands are tightly gripped away from your skin. “No! What are you doing?” her alarmed gaze make you feel as though you’ve done something wrong, what you’re not sure.

The other woman rushes to check whether the mark got washed, but by the relief on her face you gather it had not. “Go. Jungkook.” She points back to his house, urging you to go back. “I have to find my brother.” Your stubbornness leaves them uneasy, but you press on it, and turn to the woman you recognize.

“I have to find him.” You try to convince her, “Jungkook isn’t even there! And I need to check if Tae’s alright.” You try to conceal your frustration at her doubtful gaze, not sure what’s the deal with going back to Jungkook.

She presses her lips, but finally gives in, “There,” she points to left, “He by the animals.”, grateful you quickly nod head, grateful to finally escape the awkward situation, but you guess one has to pay for their actions.

“Be quick.” She presses, and unexpectedly pulls you into her arms. Her touch is very comforting, the only problem being you don’t know what’s happening. The older woman comes to pat your head, and you see the gleam of happiness color her eyes.

A bit awkward you smile, this whole situation too confusing for your hazy mind. You nod your head, and with that, take off. You know for a fact you’ll grab your brother and leave, too embarrassed to see Jungkook like they press you to. But her words turn to be harder than hoped to, when you realize just how big their space is.

You’ve been tumbling around for at least 10 minutes, and the lingering gazes from everyone around you don’t help to ease your mind. You’re wondering whether you’re going in the wrong direction all together, but sigh in relief when animal pens come into view.

You had severely underestimated size of the tribe, their camp so vast you’ve been floundering around for a while, yet you still don’t see the end of it. You’re relieved noting how less people surround the animals, at least you don’t have to fight the urge to run from their intruding stares.

Even the animal enclosures are extensive, with slight pity you note how something similar to a clothing rack faces their pens, only instead of hanged clothes there’s different textures and lengths of hair. Unbeknownst to them, they face their unavoidable future, danger hanging in front of their eyes, and yet they wholeheartedly ignore it. One tuft of hair catches your eye, blonde, long hair flutters in the wind, and you're not sure what animal it belongs to, probably a horse, whichever it is, you choose to ignore it, and try to convince yourself that’s their destined future.

You go into a clearing, another set of stools surrounding what used to be a bonfire, something akin to the one you were at previously. And sitting on one of the stools is none other than your brother, chit-chatting with the same women he did the last time you saw him.

Relief floods through your system, grateful to see him alive and well. The whole idea of you being separated in an unknown place left you uneasy, even more so considering both of your injuries. But he looks well, smiling, red flush coloring his cheeks. No sign of the previous dark bruises and pale skin.

You’re about to shout his name when a weird beeping sound comes from your left. You almost ignore it, till you remember – you’re in a tribe. And the noise is awfully familiar to a technical device.

Your turn where you guess the sound is located to see a shed; reed roof covering it’s belonging from rain. You wonder whether you should go in and check, but the persistent noise comes once more, drawing you in.

With one last glance to your brother, you move to the shed, having an inkling feeling you shouldn’t be doing this, you feel like a fraud, overstepping some unknown laws. You look around to check no ones noticed you, and sneak in.

Light barely shines through the massive roof, you’ve to get used to the dim lighting to even understand what you’re surrounded by. But when you do, you see a table right in front of you, and on it, yours and Taes phones.

You forgot that they took your belonging from you, and you take your phone in your hands, noting how it’s more damaged than you thought, screen completely broken and to your disappointment – it won’t even turn on.

You glide your fingers over the screen, small shards of glass digging into your skin. Perhaps the battery ran out, but you were sure it worked the last time you used it. The same pinging sound comes from your left, the dark environment lit up for a second.

You turn around and freeze, considering the sight in front of you before light dims out. Phones stacked in columns rest on a table, one phone in particular hangs on its last thread, notifications of almost ran out battery lighting screen.

The sight leaves your mind fumbling, are you not the first ones they saved? Or have some tourists lost their phones and they just found them? You hope it’s the second option, you can’t see how a person would leave their phone willingly.

Doubts run through your mind when the phone tings once more, and you notice a dark, dried substance covering its upper screen. You grab the phone and press on the screen, battery has almost run out, hanging onto its last 5%.

But 5% is better than nothing. You swipe the screen, thankful for the lack of password and tilt your head in wonder when it opens to camera mode. Perhaps it’s overstepping the persons privacy, but your curiosity is spiked when the small square on the left bottom corner shows recent photos, that being of deep forest green.

It’s not right, you know it’s not right, but you still press on it. Video starts playing automatically, harsh words and screaming fills the otherwise quiet space. Startled, you pause the video and check whether someone heard you, but after a moment of silence, you turn the volume down and press play.

At first, you’re not sure what you’re looking at, the persons hands are shaking so heavily, it’s hard to pinpoint the scene. But you see knife in their hand, pointing it to someone in front, screaming. A man stands close to her and aims a gun in the same direction.

Video picks up in speed when tones increase, and words become harsher. In matter of a second, the gun is fired off, and the man is tackled to the ground. Whoever is filming cries in shock, before they swipe their knife forwards.

But it doesn’t go well, as the same second someone lunges their way, and throws them on the ground. The background is unfocused, but you see the man’s head being bashed with stone. Screaming increases in volume when the phone drops and for the first time you see the person who’s filming.

A blonde woman flails her hands around, crying, trying to get away from her attacker. But her screams are silenced when the same knife she threw is dragged across her throat. Blood splutters from her lips and the attacker lets her go.

You feel her fears like your own, when her hand reaches for her phones, and she tries to crawl away with no success. Her hands give out, and she falls under her weight, the video ends of her shiny, blonde hair drowning in blood.

It takes a second for everything to sink in, and when it does, overwhelming panic drowns you. Video wasn’t long, less than 30 seconds, but you play it again, frame by frame, trying to find anything that rebuttals your suspicion.

But to your dismay, one familiar tone of voice makes you replay it over and over again, till you find one snapshot, less than a second long, of blurry figures of their attackers. You know you can’t deny it when you capture the familiar leather clothing, and even more so, when you see a braid hanging over her attacker’s chest.

You notice another detail, when the woman tries to crawl away, a clearer picture of him appears and your stomach churns when you see him spitting on her in disgust. You know her attacker. You could recognize him any day.

Only now you don’t want to, and you try to lie to yourself and say you’ve never seen those deep mahogany eyes. Which, in part is true, his gaze brings you comfort, and peace, feeling of protection and love. But the eyes you’re staring at are nothing less than feral, deep rooted superiority and untamed rage.

It’s Jungkook.

You clutch the phone tighter when you notice another thing. Something that might save you. The single fluttering service line. You don’t waste a second calling for help, begging the line to go through. You’re scared to move, knowing how a single step might cut off the service.

But it goes through. When the line is answered you know you’re fighting against all odds, “Please help. We’re stranded in jungle, in a tribe. They kill people-” you ramble on, voice shaky, and tears falling uncontrollably. You hope you named the pathway Tae chose right, you weren’t too focused on details, and now, you hope it’s not your pitfall, “We’re going to be next, please help us!”

Person on the other side tries to speak, but their voice cuts off after every word, “Can you hear me?”, you cry out, but the line goes silent, and the battery has run out. You try to be silent, but it’s hard to conceal your cries when you realize the danger you’re facing.

You look at all the stacked phones, knowing, your ones will soon follow if you don’t get out now. There are easily hundreds of them, both the newest models, but also, ones you don’t recognize. You fear to imagine how many they’ve killed.

You run out of shed, the only thing on your mind to find your brother and get out, your gaze finds the animal pens, or rather what’s in front of them. The woman’s blond hair tainted in blood flashes through your mind. Those aren’t animal hairs, are they?

“Bee!” you hear Taes voice and quickly turn around, he’s smiling and beckoning you to come towards him. You sniffle your tears back, noticing the woman besides him watching you carefully, and put on a smile, they can’t know that you know.

You rush to him, smiling as widely as possible and ignore his snickering, “Well, well, what were you up to?” his boxy grin greets you, and you try to hold in your tears of terror, “Can we talk?” you look back at the woman and shoot her your best grin, “Alone.” You quietly force the words out, hoping only he hears the urgency behind them.

“Um, sure...?” he looks back at the woman, who hasn’t taken he eyes off of you. You hope it’s the stupid mark on your forehead, and not you acting strange. You tightly grip his hand and pull him away, hoping your steps don’t look too rushed.

“Is everything alright?” his concerned voice makes your tears resurface, only when you’re sure there’s no one listening in on you conversation, you stop behind a house, and face him, “We need to leave. Now. You were right, we’re not safe here.”

“Wait, what?” your rushed words leave him lost, confused by your sudden change of heart, “I saw a video. Video of them killing people. We’re going to be next, Tae, we have to leave.” His face falls at your teary eyes, and trembling voice. “Shit.”

“I don’t have the time to explain, but we need to leave.” He nods his head in understanding, you know you don’t have a lot of time, based on everyone urging you to go back to Jungkooks house, you know he’ll be searching for you, and considering that was a while ago – you have to hurry.

“What’s that?” his gaze moves to your forehead, and you shrug your shoulders clueless, “Jungkook marked me. I don’t know what that means. Perhaps I’m the first one they’ll finish off.” You cry out, and Tae looks conflicted, “He found me before they went off hunting. Dunno what that was about but he put his hands on my shoulders and said welcome. Thought it was him apologizing for being a dick couple nights ago, but now-”

“So, they are in the forest now?” he nods his head, “Do you know from which side they went off?” your mind is spiraling, forest is their home, and if you want to have any possibility of escaping alive, you have to gain at least some sort of leverage.

“Far off end, not here. There is a clearing close enough, not many of them walk there. That might be our best bet.” You nod along, taking in everything he says. He grabs your hand and pulls you forward to what you assume, is the said clearing.

You’re careful with your steps, looking around for any unwanted followers. Every step feels like a ticking time-bomb, but Tae is right, this side is less inhabited, couple lonesome houses in midst of evergreen trees.

You stop near the edge and share a knowing look; this is your only chance. Even though the risk of being lost in jungle is great, you haven’t eaten anything in days, feet bare and clothing less than ideal, there’s no choice but to proceed.

And just like that, you run. Your heart pounds aggressively in your chest, and feet hurt with every step, but fear keeps you going. You can’t stay here, you know you’ll be the next one, why exactly they haven’t finished you off yet is a mystery in itself, but you’re not willing to wait and find out.

You smell freedom when the habitat turns greener with each of your steps, and your steps quicken, Tae close behind you. But you underestimated the tribe, if they managed to seek after you like an animal, there’s no chance they’d leave you running around, free to go whenever you wanted.

You learn your lesson when the ground beneath you crumbles. One single misstep, and you’re falling. Tae barely manages to catch you, his hands wrap around your waist when you scream, his body almost falling with you.  

You watch in horror how the masked leaves fall one after the other like dominoes, and your gaze moves with them to see a steep ditch covering the entire area of the site, circling your only means of exit. A sharp sound like a whiplash follows soon after, and you realize you’ve run straight into a trap when the unmasked ditch has triggered a sturdy net to fall from the trees.

Wherever you turn your head, the trap follows, disturbing birds that fly high over your head away from danger. Oh, how you’d love to accompany them. Breathless, you grasp Taes’ hands around your waist, your only means of safety, holding you from falling to what might as well be your death.

“Shit”, he gasps in your ear, and you know you’re truly fucked when rushed steps and shouts near you. “What do we do now?” He balances you back on the ground, evident fear coloring his voice; as much as you’d love to step into the older sisters’ shoes and ease his mind, quickly figuring out a way to salvage the problem, you’re left speechless.

Even if you somehow manage to jump over the ditch, the net is too high to climb over and the netting too tough to tear. But there’s no time to think when you feel a sharp sting over your leg. Its force makes you fall on all fours, biting back a scream of pain you see a spear impaled on the other side of the ditch.

Fearful, you turn around to see a swarm of people surrounding you and your brother, another spear is thrown, but this time toward your brother, who barely manages to duck before it hits his body. Tears fall as you notice all the weapons pointed at you, and you’re just about ready to be impaled when a woman shrieks something in her tongue, and points at you.

It must be a sign to finish you off, you’re sure of it, you curl up awaiting the attack, but it never comes, rather you see the woman hit the man’s head who threw his spear at you. Your gaze quickly roams over the group, frightened by their relentless stares, but you notice one consistency – they’re pointing to your forehead.

You quickly touch it, confused about what’s happening, but when you do, a chorus of shouts come your way telling you to stop. And you realize what’s the hold-up, it’s the mark, Jungkooks blood smeared over your skin from yesterday.

As if he’s summoned, he runs through the crowd of people with a group of men following closely behind him. His gaze instantly meets yours, and you see the shock traveling through his system as he takes in your bleeding skin and terrified expression.

Just like a switch being flipped, he steps into his domineering aura; even though you’re away from him, you feel the energy of his anger like a shock wave crashing over you, the sparkling eyes and gentle touch which you oh, so adored nowhere present.

Overwhelmed with rage Jungkook turns to his people and barks something in their tongue, the tone of his voice makes you cover and for the first time, you’re glad you don’t understand what he’s saying.

You see the man who shot you fall to his knees, head deeply bowed down and hands put into a praying position. You don’t have to understand their language to know he’s begging, but his prayers aren’t answered when he’s forced to stand up. And in a blink of an eye, his neck is snapped.

What you wouldn't be willing to do, to return to yesterday when everything was so sweet you were bracing yourself for a toothache. But just as you feared, the shoe had to drop, only you didn’t expect the price to be your life.

The feral glint in Jungkooks eyes brings you back to the video, whatever dream you were living in these past days is broken, the man who once brought you comfort now terrifies you, but worse of all – you have nowhere to go, stuck with him, waiting for your demise.

You use the chaos around you and turn to Tae, whose eyes haven’t left the unmoving man’s body, “We have to run,” you whisper in a trembling voice, you’ve no plan, the only option is to hide, but even that’s farfetched – this is their home, they know every nook of it.

“Can you?” you look at your bleeding leg, the injury hurts as it is, but you refuse to gift them your life without a fight. You turn back to Tae and slowly nod your head, unsure of the answer yourself.

Careful to not attract any attention, you shuffle to your left, but your movement is caught instantly, “Don’t.” Jungkooks baritone voice freezes your body. You know he’s speaking to you, but you’re lost how he even noted the movement; his back is turned to you, his hand raised in your direction. Their sense of movement would be remarkable if you weren’t fighting for your life.

He turns around and faces you, and slowly starts walking towards you. But the closer he is, the more danger you’re facing, so you do your best to make him stop, “We will leave now. Thank you for your help, but it’s time for us to go.”

You try to sound confident, but that turns out hard under his untamed gaze. For a second it works, he stops in his tracks and overthinks your words, but when his jaw ticks and steps fasten, you know you’ve only made it worse.

“Leave? You’re hurt.” He kneels down besides you, and you can’t stop your body from flinching when his hands inspect your wound. “I will find help, but now, we must leave.” You repeat your words, careful to keep your voice down as to not aggravate him more.

But it seems no matter what you do, it only serves to tick him, “No.” his tone leaves no room for objection, and his hold tightens around your leg. “You’re marked. You’re one of us now. Why would you even want to leave, when I can offer you what I know you long for.” He cups your cheeks and tries to smile, but the untamed flames haven’t subsided in his eyes, and his smile looks more like a grimace.

“Safety, protection, love.” He pulls you closer when he mutters the last word, trying to awaken the memories of his soft touch the night before, but all your mind manages to make up is the vast cruelty with which he drove the knife over the woman’s neck, how easy it was for him to kill the man just now. You’re repulsed by his touch.

You know you shouldn’t, but you can’t stop yourself from whispering the terrifying truth, “You kill people, Jungkook.”.

His eyebrows furrow at your words, and almost as if he’s offended, he points to the unmoving body behind, “Him? He hurt you. He hurt a woman – he hurt his leaders’ woman-” he presses, but you don’t let him finish, “He’s not the only one.”

Thick silence enfolds, one neither of you want to break. You remind yourself you’re walking on eggshells, that he’s unstable and you have to keep your mouth shut, but somehow, the recent events feel like a betrayal of you and everything you hoped for; for once, your let down your guard, and now, you’ve to pay the price and fight for your life.

After a while in silence, Jungkook shakes his head, voice becoming more desperate “I don’t kill. I protect.”. What’s all the more terrifying is the conviction in his eyes, you know he’s spiraling, lied to himself enough times he has started to believe in it himself. But you know better, when the fake illusion drops, you don’t want to be the bearer of it all.

“Listen man, we better go. It was nice mee-” Tae cites your own words, but when his skin touches yours, the unsteady walls collapse and in one swing, Tae’s on the ground. Screech of terror escapes you, and you almost fall down the trench, if it weren’t for Jungkooks fast reflexes.

He takes his opportunity and pulls you closer to him, your body trembling out of fear, not taking your eyes off of your brother, who groans on the grass. He whispers sweet nothings in your ear, but all you can focus on is his vice grip locking you besides him.

“You don’t have to be scared any more. No one will hurt you, I’m here, it’s okay.” He shushes your cries, which only makes you cry harder. “I’ll make sure you never feel lonely again, I’ll be always right by your side.”