#and his feet??? and legs???? standing in one spot for 12 hours?????

[liomelonzz]

really lucked out with a job i kinda like that pays sorta okay cuz why do all my friends have jobs that sound like comically sinister medieval tourture tactics

[fir3ylolol]

sleepless in seattle

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: johnny's been filming a new movie, which means you haven't seen him much lately. but he shows up at your door, half asleep and about to fall over

a/n: fluffffff! it's fun to mix it up and not write smut all the time lol. hope yall like this little taste of cute

word count: 909

Ao3

You watch your phone as it lights up on the arm of your couch. You pick it up to see Johnny’s familiar contact photo, a selfie of the two of you at his last movie premiere. You feel bittersweet. It’s been a long time since you guys hung out. He’s been really busy filming for his newest movie, which requires most of his time lately. He took a directorial position, as well as producer and main actor. It’s a lot, but it was his dream opportunity, and he couldn’t pass it up. His text is letting you know that he just got off work and was headed home. It was 11 pm, and you know he got there at 5 am. You felt bad, wishing you could help him more and be there for him. But you send a quick “drive safe, i love you, i miss you” before setting your phone back down to continue getting ready for bed.

It’s been about 10 minutes, as you getting settled in bed. But you suddenly hear a knock at the door, so light you get scared. You slowly walk over, looking through the peephole nervously. But your nerves are immediately eased, seeing Johnny standing there, slightly swaying back and forth. You open the door, ready to welcome him in after missing him for so long. But he stumbles in, falling forward onto you. You brace yourself, holding him up with all your might. “Hi love, you ok?” You quietly say as you strain against him. But he starts his stumbles again, walking to your bedroom with dragging feet. As you lock your door, you start feeling worried again. Not of what’s outside, but of how overworked he was taking this project on. But you shake it off, grab a glass of water, and walk into the bedroom. And there he was, splayed out on the bed, already half asleep. You sigh, setting down the glass and crouching down. One by one, you help him get comfortable, removing his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. The last of which requires you to flip him over a bit, which you manage to do with little effort.

But you climb onto the bed to your usual spot, and Johnny pulls himself behind you, shuffling over to your side. He latches himself to you, both arms around you and one leg over you. He gets cold very easily, and the lack of clothes certainly isn’t helping. You are well and truly trapped under him, but it’s nice. Warm. You wiggle an arm out and play with his hair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. “Long day?” He nods, holding you closer. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You know, my day hasn’t been that good either…” Before you realize it, you’ve been talking about your day for a very long time. The good, the bad, even just what you had to eat.

You look down to see his bleary looking up at you, struggling to stay open. “Oh Johnny, I’m sorry, did I keep you up?” He smiles, nuzzling into you, “Maybe, but it’s nice. Comforting.” You kiss the top of his head, and he hums happily. You continue talking, but whispering this time, smoothing down his hair and holding him tight. You watch as he slowly falls asleep, breathing heavily and grasp on you going limp. You take a minute just to look at him, uncharacteristically dark eye bags and disheveled hair. He looks so unlike himself, that you know he needed this. You fall asleep shortly after him, his presence is comforting.

You open your eyes as the sunlight hits them directly. You rub your eyes and look at Johnny, who is surprisingly still asleep. He tends to be a morning person, but as you turn to grab your phone, you see that it’s 10 a.m. He’s slept for nearly 12 hours now, and you don’t want to wake him yet. He needs as much sleep as he can get. So you worm your way out of his grasp slowly, pausing each time he takes a deeper breath. You make your way into the kitchen, starting to make some eggs and sausage. As you pour a cup of coffee, you see a blanketed form shuffling in, sniffling and yawning. “Good morning love, sleep good?” You place a plate in front of him and kiss the top of his head. He smiles up at you sleepily, managing to croak out, “Yeah, I slept good with you there. You’re really comfy, you know?” You sit next to him, taking a sip of your coffee, “I try my hardest to be. Do you have to work again today?” He groans through his bite of eggs, “Ugh, don’t bring it up. I have to be there at 9.” You choke on your coffee, looking at him sheepishly, “It’s…already past 10. I’m sorry, you looked so peaceful!” He pauses, face blank, before placing his head on the table with another groan. He picks his head back up, a wide smile on his face, “Ok, then I’m here today.” You look at him confused, trying to figure out what he meant. “I’m not going in, it’s too late, they’ve probably already sent everyone home. So, what do you wanna do?” You smile, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, “Wanna stay home all day and watch movies?” He smiles back at you, kissing your lips. “Fuck yes.”

[darkesttimelinestuff]

Fictober Day 4

Prompt #12 - “did you hear that?” "

Camping in October on Martha’s Vineyard is a crapshoot. Foliage is guaranteed, but the chance that the weather will turn is a gamble. 

And Fox Mulder is gambling man. He opted for a cabin, rather than a tent under the stars. They had spent the day hiking, and even found what Mulder dubbed now as their “makeout spot.” It had been a perfect fall day. The sun began to set and temperatures dipped, so they had made their way back to the cozy one-room cabin to continue their makeout session. 

*****

Back at the cabin, Mulder says, “It’s freezing.” 

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Scully says, but doesn’t look up from her book. 

Mulder shudders, says, “I’m getting flashbacks to Antarctica.”

Scully is not sure how to respond. They rarely talk about Antarctica, because really, what is there to say? “Thanks for saving my life” feels trivial. Completely inadequate. And it’s all wrapped up in declarations of passion, the closing of the X-Files, and the ghost of a woman who almost tore them apart. A sore subject best left in the past. 

Instead, she says, “Oh, stop it,” and swats at his legs, perched on her lap. 

Outside the wind howls, slapping leaves against the living room window. It was an autumnal swirl all afternoon, that descended into a spooky scene with the setting sun. 

Scully reaches behind her, grabs the blanket, and spreads it over Mulder. “It’s these old, drafty windows,” she says, and resumes reading her book.

Mulder’s eyes drift closed and after a few minutes, she adds, “I think it’s actually kind of peaceful.”

Mulder cracks open one eye. “Peaceful?” 

“Well, we spent so much time in the city,” she explains. “Even on our cases, in seedy motels, there’s usually more… noise pollution that I’d like.”

“Are you still mad about that time I book us the by-hour motel? Because I told you that was an accident and -” but he stops and cocks his head. Listens. “Did you hear that?” he says, urgently.

Scully remains very still and listens. “It’s just the wind,” she says. 

“No, I heard something,” insists Mulder. “It sounded like screaming.

Scully continues to listen for a minute and after a minute shakes her head. 

Resigned, Mulder sighs and closes his eyes again, his breathing slowing. Scully picks up her book and marvels at how relaxed he’s been. 

After a few minutes the unmistakable sound of a woman’s scream tears through the night. Scully shoots to her feet, dropping the book. Similarly, Mulder tumbles to the floor, face down, panting heavily. 

He lets out a pained groan.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Scully says, bending to help him up. 

“Do you believe me now?” Mulder asks, rising to his feet.

“That definitely sounded like screaming,” Scully agrees. 

“I told you,” he says, bending to meet her at her level. “This isn’t something I’d make up.”

“You’re right. But we need to figure this out now. Someone is clearly in trouble.”

“Way ahead of you,” Mulder says, already tucking his weapon into his jeans, heading for the door. 

“Right behind you,” Scully says, grabbing her piece.

The full moon provides some light. Scully’s stomach is in knots, heart thumping hard. Dread sets in that this could be turning into a case of swamp monster or night fairies, when all she wants was a quiet weekend with Mulder. 

Their feet crunch twenty feet into the woods and they stand back-to-back, waiting. Listening. Another shrill cry echoes from behind their cabin and they head in that direction. 

“Just one quiet getaway…” Scully mutters, more annoyed than scared. 

“What was that?” Mulder asks.

“Nothing,” she relents, and they continue inching toward the back of the cabin, weapons at the ready.

In the back they stop at a rustling in the bushes. It’s darker here, the canopy blocking most of the moonlight. Mulder places a hand on Scully’s arm, stopping her in her tracks. He takes a step in front of her. “Be ready,” he whispers.

Another scream and something tumbles out of the bushes, a tangle of fur and limbs snarling. One creature rips away, yelping in pain, the other runs into the cover of night. Mulder’s arms fall to his sides. “It’s a… a…” he pants, “a…”

“It’s a fox,” Scully deadpans, lowering her gun. “How appropriate, Fox.”

The animal limps, calling behind it one last time, and scurries off into the woods. 

“Who knew a fox could sound like a woman screaming in pain,” Mulder says, sheepishly.

“Mulder, have you never been camping before?” Scully asks. 

“Uh I must have missed those Scout meetings.” And he gives her a toothy grin.

“Next time I’ll take you to camp among the Redwoods where there have been Bigfoot sightings,” Scully smirks.

“Scully, you know the way to my heart,” Mulder says, clutching his heart.

[dailyreverie]

My beautiful, my wonderful, my amazing Jul🥰

I’m so happy you’re getting back to writing again! 🥰

Please may I request:

75: standing on your tippy toes, frustrated you can't reach your lover's lips

With Andrew’s Spidey please ☺️🕷️ tall boyfriend & short girlfriend cliche coming in hot 🥺🥺

Friendly

A/N: Li!!! Surprise, I'm your secret santa! MERRY BELATED CHRISTMAS!!! (and sorry I was so late!) This was a whole journey since I really wanted to gift you some enemies to lovers and I've actually never done that before lol if you only knew how many plots and characters went through, and then you requested this and I was finally illuminated my the gods (aka Andrew Garfield mostly). I really really hope you like it! Also, thanks to my lovely wife @nadja-antipaxos for being an amazing beta!!

Pairing: tasm!Peter Parker x reader

Word count: 1.4 k

Could you call Peter Parker your enemy, when all he does is make your heart feel like it was going to come out of your chest with pure rage? Yes, yes you can. Peter Parker is your sworn enemy ever since he stepped into your class all those semesters ago and decided to take your spot as the top student.

He outsmarts you, every single time, in every class, and every chance he gets; you even have come to the conclusion that he’s only waiting for you to let him show how much better than you he is, the tiniest opportunity to hold on to make it about himself. Everything is a competition when it comes to your rivalry with Peter. You are sure your whole class hates you both by now since you both end up in debates in every class trying to beat the other one round after round of fact-dropping.

And yet he’s so nice, so flawlessly and naturally nice. Always sending you a smile and a wave when you cross each other in the halls, with his perfectly messed-up hair, his soft shirts, and his always sleepy brown eyes. You loathe him.

It's only natural that you would end up being stuck on a project together, working on it forcing you to spend a whole afternoon together as you try and decide whose idea to use; which book to use, what font color, which argument was better, anything and everything ending in at least 10 minutes of going back and forth.

It is when you are on minute 12 deciding whether to use the book you want or the website he found for your research, going back and forth when you get tired of it. You can’t stand it anymore. “Choose whatever you want then, I’m done.” You stand up from the table, grab your bag, and walking away. 

“Oh, come on! Where are you going?”

“To the roof.” You admit with your back already to him, as if going to the roof was nothing, just as it was for him. 

Peter sees you go with just a chuckle. “Have fun!” He says when your back is all he sees on the distant horizon. Because you won't take long, right? You only needed some fresh air, he guesses.

But minutes go by and you don’t come down, minutes that turn into almost an hour, and with that, the cold winter evening starts to roll around all while your jacket is hanging on the back of your chair. Peter hates to admit it, but his leg keeps bouncing faster with every minute that goes by and you don’t come back. Could you still be up there on the roof? Were you really five floors high sitting there all by yourself?

You were ridiculous, storming out like that. Yes, ridiculous, and Peter has to remind himself that, because suddenly the idea of you out there, up there, completely alone on a New York City rooftop fills his body with a hollow feeling.

He mumbles a curse after a couple more minutes when his hands were already tugging at his hair. Damn you, spidey sense. He storms off, jacket in hand and feet almost sprinting through every floor he goes up.

Quiet meets him when he reaches the roof, and indeed, there you are leaning against the bricks of the roof wall that overlook the city. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” You mumble curling further into yourself when you see him, rolling your eyes when you meet his. “Go away, Peter.”

“See, the thing is I can’t.” With long steps he joins you, standing next to you with his gaze looking straight forward, stretching his hand to give you your jacket. “I can’t let you be by yourself on a roof, there are crazy people here.”

“You don’t have to do it.” You accept the jacket, though, crossing your arms across your chest once you have it on and leaning against the fence again.

“I kind of do, it’s my job as your friendly neighbor.” You try to guess what he means by that just by looking at him. Peter only shrugs, a guilty smile on his face. “It’s my fault you are here. I may be trying to beat you in class but I’m not gonna let someone push you from up here, doesn’t seem like a fair win.”

His sarcasm is loud and clear, and it makes you both chuckle. “Ah, so you didn’t come to do that yourself?”

“Okay, why is it always like this?” The change of mood in his voice startles you, his usual calm demeanor nowhere to be seen. “What did I do to make you hate me so much?”

“Because you get on my nerves, Peter! You always have to be the smarter one, and the one with the final word. Every time I say something it’s like I don’t even matter as soon as you open your mouth!”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t-”

“I’m not done.” You swallow. “I’ve been trying so hard to keep myself casual about it, because there have been so many times where I know I’m right, and that you have to know it too, yet you keep going on and on and I get mad and it really, really makes me hate you so much.”

You breathe once you are done, your eyes almost shining with tears with all the frustration finally out of your system. But when you look him in the eyes, soft and brown and without an ounce of threat in them again, genuinely listening to you with the slightest hint of an amused smile in them. Then, you are reminded of the latest truth: ”but you keep making it really hard to hate you.”

Facing each other now, you have to take a deep breath to regain your composure. Peter stays quiet, his face unmoving with the same smile showing through his eyes. “What?” You find yourself asking, trying to read him, but he only smiles. Right, that’s why you hated him.

“Nothing, it’s nothing, I just-” His head does a little wobble and his eyes finally move away from yours, a small laugh escaping through his lips when words fail him. “It’s ridiculous.” 

“I’m ridiculous?” Your eyebrows shot up your forehead, waiting for him to explain.

“No! I am, this is! I never- ughh!” He grabs your shoulders, maybe to ground himself after his nonsense ramble, maybe to feel you. You try not to give it too much thought, since his touch alone is sending electricity through your veins, you don’t need to add an explanation on top of that. “I never planned on you to hate me, that was not what that was for. I was doing all that because you… you are so smart and so clever and witty and… and I thought maybe if I answer to what you say then maybe you would think I was smart too.” 

“Oh,” there’s a bit of doubt in your voice, a strain that tells him that his plan was not precisely working. 

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

“You are forgiven.” You smirk, and with that, you both relax. “When did it turn into a competition then? Because it certainly did.”

“When I saw you smile every time you won.” Peter huffs a laugh and shrugs as if confessing that to you was an obvious statement, not something that would turn your stomach upside down with butterflies fluttering all over your chest. “You have a very nice smile.”

You take a step towards him, standing almost chest to chest, so close that you can see his throat bobbing as he licks his lips. Your body seems to move without you commanding it to do so, lifting your heels from the ground to try and reach him, any part of him. He sees that, and all he does about it is smile.

“Damn you, Parker,” is all you are able to say before you are standing on your tiptoes and being pulled towards him, with his hands holding your back to help you keep your balance as he kisses you, dipping down to find your lips in the middle. Your hands grab onto his neck, for support and to feel him closer, to be able to hold onto something while your lips move so in sync with each other. 

Whatever competition you had with each other is forgotten, and it’s like all that fighting made him know you better since he knows exactly where to move his hands, when to deepen the kiss, when to squeeze you closer to him, keeping you wanting more of him even after only minutes of knowing what kissing him was like.

So, could you call Peter Parker your enemy, when all he does is make your heart beat so fast? No, maybe you could not, as it turns out it was not rage, you were just in love.

🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨🕸️✨

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

[thesweetnessofspring]

Roses and Pearls by HalfHope (thesweetnessofspring)

Rating: E

Description: Peeta Mellark is the sole victor of the Quarter Quell. With District 12 nothing but ash, he rebuilds his life by moving to the Capitol and falling in love with Rosalia Snow, granddaughter to Coriolanus Snow.

Then people Peeta thought long dead kidnap him and Rosalia, including the one person he hates more than anyone: Katniss Everdeen. They say he's been hijacked. They say that he used to love her. Locked away in District 13, Peeta is determined to protect his mind and his fiancée from the rebels. But while imprisoned, videos disprove his memories and his feelings toward Katniss grow confusing. Who can he trust, and what really happened in his past?

Thank you @louezem for being my beta through this multichapter project. Ten weeks we've been doing this!

Read Chapter One | Read Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Footage in therapy slows as it skips ahead to me waking up in the evening of the feast, cheeks no longer flushed with fever and eyes clear. I startle at the blood pouring out of Katniss’s forehead and check her breath. I collect some rain water and rinse the wound, bandage it up, then take the tarp and construct a shelter from the leaks in the cave, taking Katniss’s wet socks off and placing her under the somewhat drier spot. I rub her feet to keep them warm. I change her bandage again, lines of worry on my face at the first soaked-through bandage. I collect rain water in our bottles and use the iodine drops to purify it. There is an occasional glimpse into Cato hunting Thresh through the field of grain, of Foxface burrowing herself under a thatch of pine branches and shivering through the ordeal. But mostly, it’s just me, for over two hours, hobbling on my bad leg as I care for Katniss. 

Finally, I see what all of this was for. Through our alliance, we were both able to get something. Katniss by getting more sponsors, myself having someone who knows survival on my side, and both of us someone to watch our backs. Each movement, each act of tenderness, is building toward the end goal of getting us out of the arena alive. I try to imagine what it was like for this younger me. If Katniss hadn’t been what my memory said she was, if we’d worked together…I don’t know what that made us to each other back then. Allies or even friends? 

I see some of that possible friendship at the bakery in the morning, when Katniss offers to help me and Delly with weighing and shaping the loaves. We stand side-by-side, and I laugh at her attempts to get the right amount of dough on her scale, her globs either the size of a cat or a candy bar and take at least three different measurements before getting it within the approximate weight.

“I see why they put you on the hunt,” I say. 

“No, I clearly don’t have those soft merchant hands like you two,” Katniss says. And hearing myself described as a merchant, someone from Twelve and not the Capitol, brings a sense of stability I haven’t felt in years. Even if Katniss meant to tease me, it wasn’t the same as the Capitol’s pity or the rebellion’s resentment. It felt like being home.

Continue reading on ao3

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

The Meeting.

pairing: COD OC!Victoria "Whiskey" Callahan x MootOC!Meabh "Pirate" O'Malley (platonic) words: 1.7K~ cw: canon-typical violence/talk, use of weapons, attempt at military accuracy(?? idk)

November 12th, 2015. 0632 hours 12 Miles off the coast of Romania.

Command: "Shamrock, this is Command. Requesting status update, over."

The Black Shamrock: "Command, this is The Black Shamrock. We have visual on the cargo ship. Cargo ship identified as target vessel. Standby for interception coordinates, over."

Command: "Roger that, Shamrock. We cannot let them cross into Russian waters. Standing by for coordinates and situation report, over.”

…

The Black Shamrock: "Command, this is The Black Shamrock. Target cargo ship intercepted, speed successfully reduced to 5 knots. We've cut them off right before international waters so this has to happen now. Transmitting coordinates, over."

Command: "Copy that, Shamrock. Good work on slowing down the cargo ship.”

Command: “All units, this is Command. Urgent update. Eagle Eye, you have limited time for insertion. The success of the operation depends on The Black Shamrock holding down the cargo ship. Expedite your approach. Over."

Eagle Eye: "Command, this is Eagle Eye. Copy that, limited time for insertion. We're three mikes out from the current coordinates. Ready to expedite approach. Over."

Command: "Shamrock, keep them busy! Eagle Eye, you're clear to proceed with insertion. Approach from the North. Expedite your approach and secure the cargo ship. Weapon’s hot. Over."

Eagle Eye: "Command, this is Eagle Eye. Copy that, proceeding with expedited insertion. Will confirm drop zone secure before departure. Eagle Eye out."

Command: “Roger, Eagle Eye. Shamrock, standby for immediate support and prepare teams for follow-up action once the ship has been secured.”

The Black Shamrock: "Roger, Command. Will stand by for support. Continuing to monitor the situation and standing by for further instructions. Shamrock out."

-

“Time to move, SEALs! Hope you’ve got your sea legs on!” Lieutenant Alex "Ace" Rodriguez’s voice reverberated through the headsets before he got up from his seat, and approached the exit.

The remaining SEALs sprung to their feet, getting into formation. One group dropping at the forecastle, another downrange at the poop deck. Five SEALs in each, meeting in the middle.

A young Victoria Callahan rappels down the line and drops atop a cargo container, immediately opening fire on the hired guns controlling the cargo ship, to cover the descent of her crewmates. 

The helicopter’s blades are loud, and, mixed with the sound of gunfire, it prevents her from hearing the Russian commands being shouted by the traffickers around the ship. But nothing they can say would stop the assault. She downs three hired guns in the time it takes her squad to fully insert.

Dropping from the cargo containers, the team slips into an assault formation, marching forward and peeking between the rows of cargo containers, clearing them efficiently.

They quickly continue taking out the majority of the traffickers, plucking them out one by one, as they come out to try and defend their precious ‘cargo’. As if human beings could or should be considered such a thing.

Once they lock eyes with the crew coming from the back, they split again: 

a group of four led by Lieutenant Alex "Ace" Rodriguez going up to the bridge and crew deck;

four others led by Chief Petty Officer Michael "Bulldog" Thompson heading below deck to clear all the halls;

and the last two, amidst which is Senior Chief Petty Officer David "Wolf" Miller, going container-to-container, popping them open and looking for ‘stragglers’ (aka other hired guns, mixed amidst the terrified, groggy victims, to keep them secure).

Victoria descends the stairs in the second to last spot of the standard CQC formation, right behind her squadron’s leader. As the only woman in the whole team, she’s given the ‘less burdensome’ task of carrying a bag with dozens of flexi-cuffs in her pack, so they can restrain whoever they find.

After they start clearing room-to-room, restraining or killing whoever they find, Bulldog’s radio goes off: “All stations, this is ‘Ace’, we have taken control of the ship. I repeat: target has been seized.”

Command: “Copy that, Ace. Shamrock, you are clear to onboard.”

The Black Shamrock: “Roger. Sending a vessel lead by Lieutenant-Commander O’Malley, callsign 'Pirate', over.” 

“Ace to Bulldog, how copy?”

“Go for Bulldog.” Cobra answered, stopping the crew’s march so he could respond.

“Bulldog, finish clearing below deck and standby until we get back to land.”

“Copy that, Ace.” 

“You heard the boss, team. Let’s continue clearing these rooms.” Bulldog said as he looked around at his small crew.

“Yes, sir!” The group replied.

-

After clearing all the rooms and securing all the not-neutralized prisoners below deck in a locked room with Special Warfare Operators Third Class William Brown and Cole Johnson watching over them, Victoria was left pacing the halls, some of the other Second Class operators being sent down to assist her, pacing the entirety of the below deck, in alternate hallways.

It’s during her pacing that she suddenly hears steps behind her, echoing on the metal platforms above and coming thundering down the staircase. Assuming it to be a straggler, one of the traffickers, making some sort of break for it, Victoria whipped around, aiming at the unknown intruder on the stairs. “STOP!” The girl shouted.

A woman. With wild curly brown hair, wearing a Navy uniform, stopped in her tracks, hands already reaching for a pistol at her hip. “Don’t you fucking DARE. Who the fuck are you?” 

Standing a few feet from one another, at an impasse, stood the only two women aboard the entire cargo ship… Other than the poor trafficking victims still inside the containers.

The woman’s eyes locked onto Victoria’s uniform, seeing the American flag she wore front and center on the chest panel of her chest rig. Then, she stopped reaching for her pistol and said something in reply, hands held out openly on either side of her, to demonstrate she wasn’t a threat. Unfortunately for her, Victoria didn’t understand it.

“What the fuck kind of gibberish was that? English or Russian, pick one, damnit.” The American raised her voice, her southern accent becoming increasingly stronger as she shouted commands at the other woman who was only looking at her with a softened gaze and a bit of a smile.

The woman before her simply turned a bit to display the sleeve of her uniform. The Irish flag. “Lieutenant-Commander O’Malley, soldier.” Her voice was a lot easier to understand this time, a conscious effort to soften her strong brogue for the American to understand her.

“Oh SHIT!” Victoria said as she quickly lowered her rifle under her arm and raised her hand, saluting the foreign Lieutenant with a sharp, respectful salute. “I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t know who you were and didn’t expect anyone to come down here without communicating-” Victoria was quick to justify herself.

O’Malley descended the last few steps. “At ease. You don’t need all that formality with me.” She assured the American as she approached, hands on her hips.

Victoria nodded fervently. “Sorry…” She huffed and fixed her grip on her rifle, holding it at a ready carry. 

“What’s yer name?”

“Special Warfare Operator Second Class Victoria Callahan, ma’am.” She replied.

“Christ, that’s a mouthful.” O’Malley replied. “I’m Meabh.” She introduced herself. “And I think Imma call you Tori, if that’s alright with ye.” The Irish one replied with a smirk.

Blinking a bit, Victoria nodded. “This is the weirdest interaction I’ve ever had in my time in service. But, yeah, that’s okay.”

“You Americans are so serious.” Meabh teased with a smile. “Walk around like you’ve got a stick up the arse.”

Victoria couldn’t help but laugh at that, looking away for a moment, to try and conceal it, still too molded into the standard ‘Don’t get too friendly with superiors’ mantra.

“Oh, come on, I told ya to stand at ease. C’mon!” Meabh teased and nudged Victoria with her elbow before she started walking off to go retrieve whatever she came below deck for.

“Sorry. Not used to this…” Victoria admitted and gulped as she walked by Meabh’s side. Should she, realistically, be walking along with the Lieutenant Commander and deserting her position in the hall? No. But she was going to.

“How old are you?” Meabh asked her, causing Victoria’s eyes to widen a bit.

“Twenty-four.”

“Twenty-four?! I’m twenty-two!” Meabh replied cheerfully. 

Victoria’s eyes are widened. Not because Meabh was young, she looked it! But because she was extremely cheerful, almost like she was trying to make a friend out of Victoria, rather than walking around like they were mere colleagues.

It was bizarre.

“You’re very…” Victoria dared to speak, her voice level and even. “...bubbly.”

“Should I not be?”

“I had a rifle pointed at you a minute ago.”

“But now you don’t!”

“I could’ve shot you.”

“But you didn’t!”

“I don’t understand you.”

“Really? I’m trying to soften my accent for you!”

“No, your personality!” Victoria explained as she looked to the side at Meabh, her head craned. “Is it an Irish thing or a you thing?”

“Probably a me thing.”

“Oh.”

“I just don’t see the point in being serious and bossy when I don’t have to be.”

“Hm.” Victoria murmured as she looked away, lost in thought. 

“You’re a stunner.”

Victoria’s head snapped to the side, eyes widened as she stared at Meabh. “Huh?”

“A stunner. Pretty. Beautiful.”

“Thank you…?”

“You’re welcome!”

As they reached the room Meabh had to get to, Whiskey opened the door with one of the ID cards she had swiped from one of the hostage traffickers, allowing Meabh inside.

“You’re… pretty too.” Victoria ended up returning the compliment just as Meabh was going in the door.

“I like you. We should hang out after this. Get a drink. Do you drink?” Meabh asked, excitedly. “Where are you stationed?”

“I do. And, uh… Italy, supposedly. Naples. But… all over Eastern Europe really.” She admitted. “Haven’t stopped in the last six months.”

“I’ll write you, then. We’ll plan something while we’re on leave! Could have a ceilidh.”

“A... what?”

"A party!"

"Oh. Okay..."

Meabh turned to gather the ship logs she had wanted to get before she bounded back down the hall. "Come with me."

"I can't desert my station-"

"Yes, ye can. Your CO's 'Ace', right?"

"Yeah?"

Meabh turned and grabbed her radio from her belt. "Ace, this is Pirate, how copy?"

"Send traffic, Pirate."

"Relieve Petty Officer Callahan of her duties ASAP. I'd like her assistance up in the bridge."

Victoria's brow raised in surprise when she heard Meabh and her CO discussing it.

"As you wish, ma'am...? Copy that."

Victoria's radio buzzed on her shoulder strap with Ace repeating the command, causing Meabh to smile broadly at Victoria, showing off her gap tooth.

Victoria meanwhile simply blinked in surprise and shook her head, before smiling in amusement. "I think I like you too."

@crashtestbunny for you bestie

[concussed-to-pieces]

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Pairing: (Eventual) Pro Hero!Mirio/AFAB Villain!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

Summary: As an individual with a pretty unimpressive Quirk, it hadn't taken long for you to stray from the straight and narrow. Until, of course, a certain pro hero from your past turned up on your doorstep…

A/N: Welcome all, welcome to our second installment! If you would like to be added or removed from the tag list, please let me know 💚 Enjoy!

Tag List:   @hijackser @nonstop-haikyuu @zombiexbody @buttons-beads-lace @swift-omg-no @ectoplasmictoast @tartimaar-bloggeth @plaguedoctorsnake

Part One: Breathing Room

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains emotional duress, mentions of death and a brief implication of child endangerment. Stay safe!]

The day was hell. On top of your lack of sleep, you and your coworkers were on high alert due to the staggering power vacuum that had been left from the arrest of the majority of the Hassaikai. Three other semi-organized crime factions were already mobilizing to take over former Hassaikai territory; tensions were high and it was all you could do to even try to get work done.

After hours of unsuccessful attempts to reconnoiter a new development of open-air outlet stores, you dragged yourself home well past midnight. You were so exhausted you could feel your eyes drifting closed even as you unlocked your door, barely mustering up the energy to lock the door behind you and kick your shoes off. 

You then shuffled forward, lurching around where you knew the chairs would be in your kitchen in your grand journey to bed. Once your feet hit the edge of the linoleum, you crouched and slid beneath your sheets, paying little mind to the surprised grunt you received from…the bed? Instead of questioning further you immediately surrendered to sleep, tucking yourself against a large, warm mass and sighing as you drifted off.

…

"Uh." Mirio breathed, realizing you were somehow already asleep. Granted it was your bed, of course you would sleep in it, but-

He squinted at the clock over the stove, pursing his lips when he noted that it was just blinking 12:00. How late was it? All he could tell was that it was dark, which was wildly helpful. 

I slept through the entire day? Mirio grimaced. At least his body felt much better, less broken bone and more scraped knee. He was sure he still had some impressive redness from crying so much, but that was easy to manage. A little ice, some concealer and he would be fit for an appearance once more.

Nighteye had always thought the elaborate makeup artistry for television spots was a step too far. He said that heroes should show at least some of the damage they sustained. "If they did, maybe the public would be more willing to accept them as merely human," the severe man had mused once, and Mirio had known that he was referring to All Might. "They ask so much of us already."

Mirio felt tears well up again but he blinked them back, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed and moving to stand. Then, he caught sight of the alarm clock on your bedside table, its red LED cheerily showing the time as 3:47 AM. He paused, and guiltily slipped back into position in bed. Maybe it was selfish for him to hope he could talk to you again before he turned himself in (and really, he didn't know why he had run from Deku and the rest, he wasn't exactly prone to fleeing from consequences, had he just been in fight or flight mode?), but Mirio couldn't seem to rationalize himself up out of the bed. 

So he settled down, cringing momentarily when you snuggled into his side before he carefully, carefully placed an arm around your shoulders. He was probably just warm and you were seeking it out or something.

…

Your alarm began blaring at the usual time and you blearily groped for the snooze button, your hand contacting a very human nose as you reached over…a body.

Who-?

"Ouch, easy." Mirio mumbled, brushing your hand away from his face and pressing the snooze himself. "Easy. Five more minutes." He continued, already rolling onto his side and taking you with him. The blond man's arms wrapped around your midsection, snuggling you back against his chest. You froze, almost too startled to breathe. What the hell was he doing?!

"Mirio," you finally huffed, attempting to wriggle free of the iron grip. "Mirio, you're squishing me." As if in response, his hold actually tightened and Mirio grumbled something in your ear, stubble rubbing your cheek. "Mirio-" you tried again, doing your best to ignore the goosebumps you could feel rising at the sensation of his facial hair. "Mirio, as nice as this is, I need to get ready for work."

"Mm, two more minutes." The large man reasoned sleepily, tucking his face into the side of your neck. 

You lost the battle with your goosebumps. What the hell was he doing, and why was his nose so cold-

Mirio suddenly flinched, his entire body jerking away from you like he had been burned. "Oh, oh, oh my God I'm so sorry." He babbled, bolting upright and practically sprinting into the kitchen as if to put a bit of extra distance between the two of you.

You, while rumpled and a bit confused, somewhat relished him being off-balance. Enough to throw him a little smirk over your shoulder before you rolled onto your back, anyway. "Good morning to you too." You purred, laughing at the look on his face. "Sleep well?"

"I uh, yes, yeah, r-real good." Mirio's voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. "I woke up when you came home, but I…well you were pretty tired and I didn't want to bug you." 

"How do you feel?" 

The man firmly stated, "much better, thanks. Glad I got some rest. Makes me feel like I can handle what comes now."

"Which is…?" You prompted, stretching your arms overhead.

"I'm going to go deal with what happened. With…with the Nighteye stuff. The consequences of my screw-ups." His lower lip trembled, but he seemed to quickly rein it in. "Thanks for everything you did."

You waved him off, yawning. "I was just being a friend. Any decent person would have helped you out."

Mirio raked a hand through his hair, looking perplexed. "Yeah but you…I mean, we've fought. We're not friends, at least we aren't supposed to be." He pointed out pragmatically, "We're on opposite sides of this whole…thing."

You sighed, flopping back down on the bed. "Listen, I'm not explaining how the world works to you," you muttered. "Aren't people allowed to change? Aren't people allowed to make a dumb choice every now and then, or at least a choice that doesn't benefit them? Sure, I could have told you to fuck off. Hell, I should have." Laughing a little, you continued, "after all, you cheated on me in high school. That's a logical grudge to hold, right?" 

The blond didn't seem to appreciate your humor though, his expression shifting to one of puzzlement. "I what?" Mirio asked blankly. "I absolutely didn't, you just stopped talking to me one day and wouldn't tell me why."

You stared over at him. You had just been trying to lighten the mood, make a throwaway comment to tease a bit about youthful indescretions, but he seemed genuinely bewildered. "Yeah…uh, one of the girls in your class told me that she saw you kissing someone else. Being young and hormonal, I of course had to have a week-long crying jag and cut you out of my life." You then raised your eyebrow, insisting in a sarcastic tone, "you know, the only sensible reaction to that sort of thing."

Mirio still didn't appear to find the humor in your playful teasing, his eyes wide with incredulity. "You cried for a week and never even approached me to see whether it was true or not?!" 

You winced. Well, when he put it like that, you seemed a little foolish. "Look, I wasn't a smart kid. Definitely wasn't thinking clearly. And it was for the best anyway! We wouldn't have worked out, not with how our career paths, er, diverged."

Mirio sighed, rubbing his temples. "For what it's worth," he said finally, "I didn't fool around on you. Not once. That's not something I've really ever been comfortable with."

"I'm not even sure why I believed that other kid instead of just asking you." You admitted, feeling silly for even having brought it up. "I guess I was just looking for a reason to break it off with you. What with the insecurity, the way things in my life were already so unstable…I was under a lot of pressure even then."

"I would have helped."

What the hell was that, that odd, fluttering sensation in your chest? You ducked your head quickly, nodding in reply. "Sorry, it was a dumb joke to make. I know you would have, okay? That's kind of your whole shtick." You couldn't meet his eyes, choosing instead to clear your throat and then gesture to the bathroom. "You can have first dibs on washing up. Can't be showing up to your agency looking like you've spent the last day and a half in a villain's hole."

Mirio made a choking noise and you realized a little too late the double entendre you had just gift-wrapped for him, simply covering your eyes and jabbing a finger at him.

"Not a word."

…

His uniform was in tatters and Mirio, after several attempts to get back into it, resorted to folding down the torso so he could at least wear the pants. Sure, his undershirt would look a bit odd, but he doubted anyone would care. If anything, he mourned the loss of the comfortable sweatpants you had loaned him for the trip to the twenty-four hour convenience store on the corner. 

At least his boots had survived mostly intact; finding boots that fit and had the durable lugs on the bottom of them had caused him no end of trouble. Clown shoes, Nejire had lovingly referred to them.

Mirio emerged from the bathroom with a clean face and hair that was…well, it was attached to his head and after the last few days, he was thankful for even that much. You however didn't seem overly impressed, clicking your tongue and dragging him back to the sink to wet his head. You then proceeded to fingercomb his unruly hair and Togata had to admit, it felt…nice. 

You accidentally scratched his scalp and Mirio shivered a bit, unused to the sensation but definitely not minding it. After a few more blissful minutes, you announced that was 'as good as you could get', and then put on your jacket. 

"After all the work you and your friends did, there's been a lot of unrest." You murmured. Mirio didn't miss the hard set of your jaw. "We don't have the Hassaikai to call the shots anymore or keep people in line."

Mirio felt like he ought to be fidgeting. "I'm not apologizing for doing my job." 

"Wasn't asking you to, Golden Boy. I'm just letting you know in case you don't see me again."

"Sunshine-" Mirio began to protest, but you held up a hand to silence him.

"This is how it's always been. You know that."

"But it doesn't have to be like this." Mirio insisted. This all felt too heavy, too important to be discussed in a studio apartment kitchen. Your eyes had a look in them that he didn't like, and he found himself wanting to do something that he knew was stupid. "Come with me instead," he offered it all the same, stomach tying itself in knots.

"No." Your answer was immediate, stinging in its surety. "I'm not a civilian for you to rescue and smile at the cameras with, Golden Boy. I'm scum. Remember that." You pointed at the door. "The minute we walk out of this building, we forget this happened. Or, you tell the boys in charge where I live. Not sure if they'll let you do field work without your Quirk, so that may be your only shot to apprehend me."

His heart was beating so fast it hurt. "I don't want to turn you in." 

"Then don't." The smile you gave him was humorless as you flipped open one of his utility pockets and carefully dropped the ziplocked bullet in. "Would be pretty rude of you, take advantage of my hospitality and then go running to tattle to the agency. It would be a pretty dick move."

"So…this is goodbye I guess?"

"Seems like." You extended a hand, which he quickly clasped. "It's been a hell of a time, Lemillion. You're a real bed hog, but I guess it wasn't too awful."

"You have a twin-sized bed–"

You waved him off, flipping up your hood. "I'll go first, you hang back for a few minutes. Last thing I want is for any normies around here to put together that you came out of my building with me."

"True enough." Mirio hesitated, then asked, "what about your door? There's a lot of locks that I don't have the key for. If I still had my Quirk…"

"It's fine. The locks are more for my own peace of mind when I'm home than for security when I'm not." You gestured at the kitchen table and two chairs. "Who would steal this junk anyway? They'd have to be in real dire straits." With that, you headed for the stairwell. 

Mirio wasn't sure why he felt the need to follow, his hand on your shoulder almost before he realized he was moving. "Wait, I…" he paused, his brain coming up empty for any sort of logical reasoning. "Thank you. Please be careful." He said finally, releasing your shoulder.

Your eyes met his for a moment and you simply nodded, then turned back to the stairs.

Mirio slouched beside your doorframe, his heart still hammering in his chest. What was it? Adrenaline? Nerves? Hell, he had nearly forgotten that he was making his return to polite society for a minute, all of his focus on the way you looked at him, the tight-lipped smile on your face…

Fifteen minutes passed but Mirio decided he should wait twenty, just to be safe. The more distance between the both of you, the less likely people would be to get–

A sudden, distant boom caught Mirio's attention, and the floor trembled beneath his feet for a moment.

What was that? All caution thrown to the wind, Mirio lunged for the stairs. Another boom!, this one louder, the stairwell groaning around him even as he sprinted to the ground floor. Earthquake? He shoved open the door to the apartment complex, cacophony meeting his ears. People yelling, car alarms firing off. Over the nearby buildings he could see fast-billowing smoke rising and as if on autopilot, Mirio bolted forwards. 

We need the police to blockade, fire department, the young man reached for the communicator button on his visor only to remember that it had been broken during the raid on the Hassaikai. The visor was probably still all over the ground halfway across the city. Cursing under his breath, the hero ducked into a convenience store. 

"Hey, sorry to be a bother, gotta' borrow your phone." Mirio announced cheerily, already midway through vaulting the counter to reach the landline. "Oh wait, there's probably a special button sequence to hit so you can call outside the store, yeah?" He asked the cashier, who seemed to be caught between indignance and panic. "Do me a favor, call the police for me. Seems like there's trouble brewing."

The young woman mutely pointed a shaking finger at the television mounted in the corner of the store, which bore a large picture of Mirio's face. The words 'Missing In Action' scrolled across the bottom of the screen while the news anchor gave details of Lemillion's last known whereabouts. "-associates have no information on their partner's location, and voiced their concerns in the following clip."

"If anyone has seen Lemillion or has any idea of where he is, please notify the authorities. We need to find him." Nejire's voice was trembling and sounded wrong. She was always so assertive and sure of herself, but now she seemed almost scared.

Mirio forced himself to release the handset of the phone, instead pressing it into the cashier's hands. "Call the police." He reiterated quietly, trying to appear cool and collected. 

His whole body was shaking as he departed the store, two police cars whipping past as he did. Mirio felt like the world was pressing down on him, the reality of running from his consequences becoming a frightening weight that threatened to crush him. He was used to adrenaline or slight nerves before an altercation but this was a bit ridiculous. The young man steeled himself after a moment, breaking into a run once more. 

People were fleeing in the opposite direction, another shockwave rocking the ground underfoot. Mirio carried on doggedly, running towards whatever faceless danger lurked ahead as civilians streamed past him. Past the hastily erected barricades, past the officers trying to hold back civilians who were attempting to return to the closed-off area, the blond man just kept going. He wasn't sure why he kept going; he had no Quirk, no powers to keep him safe. This was insanity, but no one had ever accused him of being smart.

"Bow before me, worms!" came a raspy shout, and a chunk of cement wall slammed to the ground inches from Mirio. The blond man barely stopped in time, skidding to a halt. "You'll all pay for calling me weak! Without the Hassaikai around to browbeat us, the true power of this world can rise!" It was a short man screaming his lungs out from a balcony, his Quirk seeming to carve chunks out of the side of the building across from him. Mirio would have bet his cape on the individual being hopped up on Trigger, but he didn't exactly have time to ponder the possibilities. This man was clearly going to hurt someone; hell, someone may already be hurt, trapped in a collapsed building or crushed beneath a haphazardly-dropped piece of debris. 

"Hey!" Mirio shouted upwards, catching the off-kilter individual's attention. "You'd better stop before you destroy the neighborhood!" 

"Fuck off!" The man shrieked in reply, a piece of rebar-ridden wall rocketing towards the young hero. Mirio attempted to phase through the object on reflex and was painfully reminded of the loss of his Quirk, the rebar catching him across the chest and throwing him backwards. 

Ow. Ow. Mirio coughed, the wind knocked clean out of him from his sudden meeting with the ground. His eyes rolled back in his head momentarily, then focused blearily on a body that laid in the shadow of a nearby pile of rubble. Civilians, I have to move! Panic flared up and Mirio struggled to heave the rebar and attached concrete off his chest, but the hefty debris hardly budged, instead shifting to bear down on his lungs and stomach. The hero choked in a breath, warring equally between terror and fury at his own helplessness. Clawing for a handhold on the edges of the debris, his fingers seized the rebar and, using all his strength, Mirio finally managed to free himself from beneath the section of wall. 

He barely had a moment to breathe before something was blocking out the sunlight. Mirio only just rolled over in time, dodging the steel beam that crashed into the ground where his head had been. The blond was quickly up on his feet once more, a little unsteady but he had survived harder training than this. Cementoss enjoyed putting them through their paces at the academy, after all! 

Mirio scrambled behind another pile of rubble, his eyes on the body across the way. The hooded jacket looked too familiar even to his rattled vision, and it was with great care that he crawled forwards so as not to alert the unstable Quirk user overhead where he was. The body's features solidified the closer he got, and Mirio was horrified to see that it was you, a pool of blood staining the ground around your head. What you had said earlier came rushing back to him: 'we don't have the Hassaikai to call the shots anymore or keep people in line.' 

You had been right, it would seem. 

"You think you're better than me?! I'll crush you!" came a yell from the balcony, making Mirio groan in irritation. 

"Seriously, knock it off! You're going to get someone killed!" The hero shouted angrily, going to roll you onto your back and realizing with a start that a small girl was wrapped in your embrace. No time to unpack that, he needed a pulse. It was there, it was there thank God, weak in your throat but still there. The little girl was breathing as well, he could see her eyelids flutter like she was dreaming. 

Another chunk of flooring getting torn out of a neighboring building and heaved in his general direction (thankfully missing by a fair margin) encouraged Mirio to keep moving. The young man scooped you and the child up, breaking into a stumbling sprint in order to put more ground between him and the raging Quirk user. 

Blood was smeared across your forehead from a wound at your temple. Mirio was uncertain if you had been injured anywhere else; his perfunctory check only lasted as long as his limited safety. Please be okay, he pleaded mentally, please, I'm sorry, please-

Sirens met Mirio's ears and he turned, catching sight of a police car speeding up the road. He emerged from behind the rubble, shifting your weight to wave one arm and get their attention. "Stop!" He screamed as loudly as he could, still breathing a sigh of relief when the vehicle screeched to a halt. 

The road beneath his feet shuddered and he heard a long, crumbling slide behind him. Another one of the buildings had collapsed, the structure crumpling to the ground in a cloud of dust with a thunderous crash!

The blond man was all but deafened, unable to make out the words the officer behind the wheel was saying. A high-pitched sound rang in his ears, aggravating the headache that had been brewing since he had hit the ground like a sack of bricks.

Abruptly flying past his head was a blue streak, her familiar electricity causing his hair to stand on end. "He's up there!" Mirio shouted at Nejire, his chest tightening when she simply nodded once, eyes narrowed against the wind. Behind Nejire came the rest of the cavalry in a police van and Mirio froze as he was faced with the rapidly-approaching reality of seeing his coworkers, friends again.

With fingers clenched down on your arm and leg to keep them from trembling, he stood his ground. Tamaki was the first out of the transport, the barefoot hero lunging towards Mirio with staggering steps. Mirio braced for impact and was stunned when Tamaki embraced him, the hooded man's quiet voice nearly inaudible. "You're alive, oh my God you're alive."

"I'm sorry for running." Mirio realized he must not still be able to hear properly because Tamaki winced at the volume of his voice. "I'm here to accept the consequences of my actions and take responsibility for the…for the demise of Sir." Mirio said evenly, his chest heaving a bit as he said those words. Demise. 

Tamaki shook his shoulders, the young man clearly exasperated. "Mirio for fuck's sake, you've been missing, I--we thought you were dead!" He said, his voice trembling. "But no, of course you weren't." He gestured at you and the child in Mirio's arms. "You were helping." Guilt crushed Mirio's throat and he hung his head, a sob breaking free. Amajiki hushed him, easing the little girl out of your hold. "It's alright, Mirio," he soothed, "it's alright. Let the medics look you over, alright? Rest for a minute. W-We can talk afterwards." 

Mirio nodded mutely, following the other man to the transport. Before they reached it though, he opened his mouth. "Tamaki, I…my Quirk is gone." Mirio tugged the ziplock bag from his utility belt, showing his friend the bullet. Another sob rattled his body at the horrified expression on Tamaki's face. "I'm the r-reason why Sir--it's my fault." The blond man finished with some difficulty, hating that he couldn't stop his tears. 

"Shut up." Mirio started at the severe tone of Tamaki's voice. The other man sounded pained but firm. "Sir did what he thought was right. Are you saying he made the wrong choice? Are you saying the hero who could see the future made the wrong choice?" Tamaki challenged, his gaze flinty. "He knew what would happen if he saved you, and yet he still did it."

Mirio was stunned silent. Because it was true, for all that he hadn't thought of it. Sir's Quirk…

He still did it.

"Why?" The blond croaked out. 

Amajiki just shook his head, his expression softening. "I'm not him, Mirio. I don't know. B-But we can't let it be for nothing, right?" He reasoned with a tiny smile, handing the child over to the medical personnel and then taking your body out of Mirio's arms.

Mirio's knees suddenly buckled beneath him, but a blue-clad arm thrust itself under his shoulder to support his weight. "It's okay Mirio, I've got you." Nejire, her face dirty but smiling, the young woman looking at him like they were still friends. 

All Mirio could do was shove his face into her shoulder and cry hysterically, apologizing to her and Tamaki over and over. It wasn't exactly heroic behavior but he might not even be considered a hero after this, so maybe he would be forgiven this momentary weakness.

He knew what would happen if he saved you, and yet he still did it.

Part Three

[loveneversleepss]

Part 12. Shower and date

(Mature scenes ahead 18+)

Previous / next

I wake up and notice immediately the lack of arms around me. I get up and look around, Lee know no where to be found. I sit on the edge of my bed and attempt to stand up. Feeling immediately sore between my legs and shaky. I walk out of my room into the living room. Not here.. I turn around to walk to his room when I hear the door open. I hear shuffling and then see Lee know come in. Holding a bag that says Krispy cream and two cups, filled with hot chocolate. He smiles and walk over to me. “How did you sleep? I didn’t wanna wake you.” He says as he comes over and places a kiss on my cheek. “I thought you left..” I look down at my feet and fidget with my hands. He walks to the kitchen and sets the food down. I follow after him. He faces towards me and pulls me in by my waist. “Never. I just wanted to spoil my girl.” I giggle at kiss him. I can feel him smiling as he pulls me closer. His hands moving from my waist to my butt squeezing softly. I pull away from him, “don’t be naughty. We’re out in the open.” I grab the bag and pull out a doughnut. Taking a bite and looking at Lee know. “So what? Actually like you didn’t leave hickeys in a shape of an L.” I look up at him kinda frozen. He smirks at me, “You’re mine now.”

“What’s yours?” A voice from behind us creeps up. I kinda freeze in my spot as I immediately recognize his voice. Felix. I turn around as he walks next to us. “Ohh doughnuts. Did you gets one for everyone?” He looks to Lee know. “No sorry. Didn’t think anyone else was awake.” Felix pouts and looks at me. “You can have a bite if you want.” I say lifting my doughnut up. He grabs my hand and takes a bite. More like gobbled half of it tho. “Thanks.” He pats ny shoulder and walks to the fridge. I frown as I look at my doughnut. I look at Lee know and he looks a little mad. Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut. I mean he did get it for me. I finish my doughnut and grab a hot chocolate. I sip on it, “it’s poisoned btw.” Lee know tells me. I hit his shoulder and start laughing as he grabs his as well. “So what are you doing for today?” I look towards Felix who was just standing there staring at us.

“I have plans.” I tell him. “With me actually.” Lee know says and he puts an arm around me. I look up at him and see he has a small smirk. Like he’s claiming his territory. I watch Felix eyes burn across our bodies in confusion. A silence goes between us for a while until Felix breaks it. “Can I tag along?” I look at Lee know. “Sorry it’s a date. So you can’t.” I don’t look at Felix. I don’t wanna see his face at how heartbroken it would look.

“You guys are going on a date?” Hyunjin says from behind us. I turn around pulling away from Lee know. I nod my head and look up at Felix, pulling into the temptation. He’s not looking at me, but at the floor. Rocking back and forth on his feet. “We should go and get ready then.” I say to Lee know and he nods his head. We clean up and head over to my room. I sit down at my desk as I get inspired all of a sudden to finish my song. He comes and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “Keep writing I’ll be in the shower.” I nod my head as he leaves. I finish five minutes later. Leaning back in my chair as I hear a knock on my door. I turn around and Felix enters. “Hey.” “Hey” “I hope you have fun today.” I stare at him for a couple seconds. I can see his eyes water a bit. My heart shatters as I see it. I get up and give him a hug. Him not touching me at all. “I’m sorry Lix-“ “don’t call me that.” I move away from him as I hear that. “I mean you can’t call me that anymore since you are with Lee know.” I don’t say anything. “I won’t say anything about us, I promise.” Before I can say anything he turns and leaves.

I bury my head in my hands. Trying not to feel sad. I’ll just try my best not to think about it. At least for a couple of hours. I’m supposed to go on a date with Lee know. Right. Lee know. He’s in the shower. Maybe I should take one too.

I walk out my room and to the bathroom. Looking around for anyone. Then Slowly turning the knob and finding that it’s unlocked. I open it and the mirror is all foggy from the shower. The glass doors all fogged up as I can see his silhouette faintly. I can the water drop around his body. I lock the door and start to undress. Pulling of my shirt first then my shorts. Reaching behind my back to unclip my bra then sliding off my panties. I wipe the mirror a little to attempt to check if my hair was alright. Even though it is gonna get wet. I open the glass door quietly and see his back is facing me. I wrap my arms around him as he jumps. “Love?” I hum against his skin as he turns around. He places his hands on the side of my face. “What are you doing, hmm?” “I missed you”

I wrap my arms around his neck as I lean in to land a kiss on his lips. His lips delicate and soft attaching to mine. He wraps one of his hands around my waist and leaves the other in my face. Our lips moving in sync as his tongue hits my bottom lip. Asking for entrance as I let him in. Our tongues colliding, soft and slow. I pull into him more as my body collided with his. Feeling his groin hit my tummy. He grunts in my mouths and I can feel it harden. Deciding to be bold, I reach my hand down and rub his tip. Him pulling away from me with swollen lips as he hisses. “So sensitive.” I tease him and look up innocently into his eyes. “Imma make you feel good baby. Gotta reward you for last night.” I kiss his lips as he watches me intently. Stroking softly as I kiss his chest then leading on to his stomach and get lower. Going on my knees eyeing him where he needs me most. I kiss his tip and look up at him. His eyes focuses on my every move. I open my mouth slightly sucking in his tip while stroking him softly. He groans as he rolls his eyes back, dropping his head back.

“Please keep going.” He whines out. I suck down his length as I hear more whimpers leave him. His hands grip onto my hair. I start a steady pace as my hand goes up and down in sync. I listen to his moans and shaking breathing. “Just like baby” “don’t stop” “god you make me crazy” Words slip out of his mouth as I work on him. I him against him and he grubs my hair tighter. “Do that again please.” I hum again as he whines out. I feel him twitch inside me. “Baby I’m close.” I start to rub him a little faster and his mouth drops at the sensation. He lets one more whine slip as he cums in my mouth. He pulls my head up to look at him. “Swallow it.” I quickly obey and swallow it. Opening my mouth to show I did. I stand up as he strokes my cheek. “Good girl.” “Mmm” “imma treat you real good today, kitten.” My eyes shot up to his as I hear this new nickname. I like it. He leans in to place a kiss on my lips and pulls away. He turns me around and puts shampoo in my hair. Pampering me as he rubs into my scalp gently.

Time skipp~

He talks with the manager as I wait patiently outside. He comes back to me with car keys in hand and holds my hand. He leads me to a car and unlocks it. He opens the door for me as I get into the passenger’s seat and closes it. He gets into the driver’s seat as he turns on the car. We head off and he hasn’t told me yet where we’re going. “Are you gonna tell me where we are going?” He shakes his head and laughs. He grabs my hand and kisses it. Making me melt in my shoes. “Don’t worry. You’ll like it.” I smile at him and look at the window. After a while we get to the place. A beach.

I look to him and he smiles as me. We get out the car and he leads me to a blanket. It’s filled with snacks and drinks and lights. I notice a little box in the middle. We sit down as we eat. Asking each other questions. Cracking jokes. Enjoying the scenery. I look down at the box again and he notices. He picks it up and looks at me. “It’s a short notice but I wanted to get you something to remember.” He opens it and it’s a necklace. It has the letter L on it and a heart surrounding it in the color rose gold. “So Love?” He lifts my chin up with his hand. “Will you be my girlfriend?” I jump into his arms and hug him. Smothering him in kisses. “Of course I will.” He giggles as I pull away. I turn around to let him put it on me. I pull up my hair as he places it around my neck. He clips it in as I look down at it. “It’s so pretty” he hums as he kisses my shoulder. “You’re prettier.” He says as he looks into my eyes. “Stop you’ll make me blush.” I say looking away feeling a little warm.

I get a message on my phone. I ignore it. He looks at me confused. “Aren’t you gonna look at it?” He asks me. I Shake my head no. “I wanna give you my full attention.” He sighs and picks up my phone. He looks at the message and reads it, “Hey lovey, are you down for drinks tonight with the girls? From Jennie.” I look at Lee know and shrug my shoulders. “You should go. They were your members. Don’t ignore them.” I look at the ocean for a sec. “You’re right. I’ll text them late-“ “sent” I look at him and snatch my phone seeing he already sent a yes to them. I side eye him and she texts back to meet at 9. Lee know scoots closer to me and wraps his arms around me. My back against his chest and I rest my head on his shoulder. We watch the waves come in and out as the sound of seagulls fill our ears. After a while we decide it’s time to leave and we pack up.

Time skipp again lol~

I go to the address she sent me and realize it’s a club. I see her waving at me and she runs up to me. “Hey gurl. I missed you.” She practically squeals in my ear. “I missed you too.” She leads me over to where the rest of the girl were. Exchanging our hugs as we go inside. We get inside and immediately get drinks. Sooner or later the girls go to the dance floor with a man of their choosing to dance with. Leaving me by myself as I watch them. Sigh. Life of being with a mans. I continue drinking until I feel a buzz come on me. I’ve only had like 3 shots and I feel it. One more and I’m gone. Jennie comes back with a man and forces me to take a shot with her. Hitting past my limit, I’m gone.

I don’t remember much and I wake up somehow the next morning in my bed.

To be continued~

[kjhmyg]

rough edges pt. 18 pairing: jungkook | reader genre: college!au, fluff, slight angst word count: 16k warnings: mentions of death, drugs, executions, drinking, anxiety, weapons. 

summary: when you uncover your boyfriend's private life, a deep dive into it sucks you in as you try to help save him from himself.

a/n: one more chapter and one epiloque, and it's goodbye :( anw if u can guess my fave anime character i'll post the next part this weekend maybe

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 6.5 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 / 17 / part 18 / masterlist

RE asks tag / pinterest board

Hundreds Arrested in Biggest Drug Raid of The Decade

Big Time Underground Crime Boss Taken Down 

Uncovered: An imminent underground trafficking ring busted by Department of Justice

Joint Efforts of the Police Department & DEA sees an end to Infamous Drug Lord’s Operations

⎼

“Y/n.”

A familiar presence wraps around you like a warm blanket, feeling strangely at ease every time you hear that gentle whisper of your name. Every time it calls out to you, you feel yourself inching closer to the surface of reality. 

At times when it goes quiet, you feel yourself regressing back into your cocoon and wait in silence, hoping for its return. Soft murmurs begin to dance around you, and you shake your head to shoo them away in protest, covering your ears every time they get louder, which happens every time the voice disappears. 

Arms wrapped around your legs, and head between your knees, you wait for it to come back. It feels like hours have gone by and you almost give up, until you feel something touching you, for the first time in a long while. 

Cautiously lifting your head, your eyes land on the familiar hand resting atop yours. His gorgeous eyes lure you out of the darkness and soon your hand is in his, embracing the warmth it provides. 

Jungkook helps you to your feet, and in a fraction of a second, you’re walking down the footpath of a park he used to take you in the middle of the night for a quick date. Arms swinging in between, you can’t help but to sneak glances every now and then, as if to make sure he’s still there. 

When you reach your usual spot, atop a hill with a wide view of the park and the open sky above, Jungkook grabs both your hands. He’s looking down at you, eyes roaming over your face before landing a soft kiss on your lips. 

“I love you, Jungkook.” You whisper, hands on the sides of his face. He only smiles in response, and you wish he would let you hear his voice again. 

His attention suddenly turns to the bright moon above, as if it were bothering him. Following his gaze, you notice how unusually bright it seems to be. You’ve spent many nights here, lying on the grass, staring up at the sky. You can tell something’s not right. 

The glow emanating from the orb gets brighter, forcing you to turn away. 

“Jungkook?” 

When you look back, he’s gone, hand no longer in yours and nowhere to be found. The shine from above continues to blind you. You hold your arm up to shield yourself from the glare.

Somewhere in the distance, the murmuring starts once again, coming towards you from all sides. This time getting progressively louder. It’s a mixture of drowned out voices and screaming, and suddenly you can’t breathe. 

You shut your eyes to make it stop, only to feel yourself choking, struggling to breathe. When you open your eyes, the memory you tried hard to suppress comes back to haunt you, manifesting itself. 

Hongjun’s arm is around your neck, with a gun pointed to your head. A bunch of faceless officers stand before you, some in position to shoot. Then you hear him. Jungkook.

He’s running towards you at full speed, shouting something you can’t hear, hearing drowned out by a buzzing sound. 

Everything moves in slow motion, and your vision starts to blur. As you fight to keep your balance while struggling to breathe, you see Hongjun’s arm move in one swift motion, aiming for Jungkook. The last thing you see are his wide eyes, before a loud bang rings in your ear and you’re falling again. 

A sharp gasp tears from your lips, “Jungkook!” your blurt out as you suck in a breath of air, jolting upright, feeling as though you just surfaced from being underwater. Your heart booms in your chest and your eyes squint at the sudden brightness. The beeping sound somewhere near you keeps you on edge. 

“Hey you’re okay,” a voice comes up to you, a comforting hand on your back, “you’re okay my love. I’m here.” 

You look up at the worried face of your father, hovering over you with worried eyes. You will yourself to take deep breaths, trying to stay grounded. “I can’t breathe.”

“I’m gonna go get the doctor.” Hana says quickly, running out the room. 

Within the next minute, you’re surrounded by nurses, feeling the comforting grip of your dad slipping away. It all happens way too quickly, and eventually the darkness takes over once again, as your eyelids fall shut. 

⎼

It was different this time, the darkness was short-lived, and felt more like an afternoon nap. You open your eyes to the same bright room, the sounds of newspapers flipping to your left. Though still feeling sore, you slowly turn to where your dad rests with one leg over another, glasses hanging low on the bridge of his nose. 

The front page of the paper catches your eye; NOTORIOUS DRUG LORD TAKEN DOWN splashes across the top half of the paper, in bold. As he moves to flip the page, he notices you’re awake. 

“Hi,” your voice comes out hoarse.

“Well hello.” He sets the paper aside and gives you his full attention. Warm hands stroke the top of your head, thumb slowly caressing your forehead. “How are you feeling?” 

The question brings about a surge of emotions from your chest, heaving as you fight back a huge sob. Tears fall down your face anyways, and a machine behind you starts beeping, startling you. Your dad hushes you, wiping away the stray tears. “Where’s Jungk⎼”

“Good afternoon.” A nurse comes in to check your vitals, interrupting your question. “Oh perfect, you’re awake!” She frees you from some of the wires and the beeping finally stops. As she checks things off the clipboard, you see the door behind her swing open gently and Hana’s face emerges. 

“You’re up!” She beams, almost dropping the box of pastries in her arms. 

The nurse smiles. “Everything looks good, miss. I’ll put in an order for a meal; no solid foods yet.” She points to the pastries with the back of her pen, “You haven’t eaten in three days, so we’ll start with porridge. The doctor will come around in the evening to do a full checkup.” 

“Perfect, thank you.” Your dad says. 

Hana sets her stuff down before going over to give you a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”

“I was out for three days?” You ask, realising it was much longer than it felt like. You don’t even know what day it is. 

“Yeah,” she says, “we were worried but the doctor said they didn’t find anything unusual. Your body probably shut down from the shock of it all.” 

You play with the blanket covering your bottom half. “I’m sorry for worrying you.” 

Your dad’s hand wraps around yours again. “All that matters is that you’re safe now.” The stress of the last couple of days is evident by the bags under his eyes. 

With a deep sigh, you look at yourself, bruises and marks over your arm on the side where you fell, a scrape on the side of your cheek, and a bandage around your head. It throbs still. 

“You had a concussion,” Hana reads the look on your face, “do you remember what happened?” 

You wish you could forget. Blinking away the urge to cry, you nod. 

“Hongjun…” 

She doesn’t urge you to continue, instead places a firm hand over yours. “It’s okay.” 

Many questions swim through your dad’s mind, you can see it in his eyes. “You knew him,” he says, more as a realisation than a question. Despite the disapproval of his features, he pushes your hair back affectionately, “I figured you were just at the wrong place, wrong time but if you knew him all along… what did you get yourself into?” 

“I⎼” Words fail you, how could you tell him everything that’s unfolded in the last couple of months? He doesn’t even know you were kidnapped, you dread how he’d react once he finds out. “It’s⎼ it’s a long story…”

He heaves out a long sigh, trying to make sense of it all. How could his daughter be involved in the biggest criminal raid of the decade?

At the mention of your involvement, your mind springs back to the only thing you really can think of right now. Evidently, not the right time to be asking this, but there’s nothing more than you need right now than to know if he’s safe. 

“A-any news on Jungkook?” You direct your question to Hana, who momentarily avoids your stare. “Hana? What happened? Is he okay? I need to go see him⎼” 

The two of them try to stop you as you move to get off the bed. Legs already dangling off the side, Hana grabs hold of your arm. “He’s not here.” 

You search her eyes. “What do you mean?” 

“He’s not… well we don’t know what happened to him.” 

A wave of panic washes over you and you can’t ignore the way your heart is bursting out of your chest. Your dad guides you back to your bed, willing you to calm down and you try. The throbbing in your head gets worse with every move, and you can barely keep your eyes open or stand the bright lights. 

You need to find Jungkook. But your body won’t let you. So you shut your eyes to find him again in your dreams. 

Hours later, you wake up to only Hana present, smiling when you start to stir. 

As you sit up, she places a pillow on your lower back. Then brings a cup of water to your lips, urging you to drink up. You hear gentle knocks on the door before it slowly opens and a familiar face enters. He beams at the sight of you, though you don’t reciprocate. 

Hana greets him with a nod and Hoseok takes the seat on the empty side of your bed. “Hey, how are you feeling?” 

“I’ve been better.” You mutter, eyes dropping to the bouquet of flowers in his hand.

He hands them to you awkwardly, almost blushing because now Hana’s smirking at him from the other side. “Hana told me you were finally up. I wanted to come see you.” 

“Thanks Hoseok,” you muster up a smile looking at the bouquet, “they’re pretty.” 

You almost miss the way the two of them share an odd look, as if speaking telepathically. When Hana notices you staring, it stops. “Let me help you with that.” She says, relieving you of the flowers. 

An awkward silence fills the room while Hana finds a place for the bouquet on the table. Meanwhile, Hoseok hasn’t stopped staring at you. 

“Hoseok?” He straightens up at the sound of his name. 

“Yeah?” He answers when you take too long to start. 

“Have you heard any news about Jungkook?” You feel sorry for asking, especially after his features drop. But surely he’d know something. He should, Namjoon would’ve told him. “Please tell me. I need to know if he’s okay.” 

“That’s actually what we wanted to talk to you about,” he says and you realise now that was what was going on with two of them. “Hana and I asked around for him the night you were admitted, but we couldn’t get anything out of anyone. We have no idea what happened to him, or where he is.” 

“What about Namjoon? Have you asked him?” 

“I haven’t been able to contact him since that night.” Hoseok admits. “We met briefly while he was getting treated. He said he’d call to give me an update but…nothing.” 

“It’s a big case,” Hana chips in, “he’s probably working overtime to settle everything before⎼”

“I don’t care about the case,” you say curtly, “I just want to know if my boyfriend is alright. The last thing I saw was Hongjun shooting in his direction, I have to know if he’s dead or alive!” 

“Y/N,” Hana squeezes your hand when your breathing gets erratic, “it’s not like we’re hiding anything from you.” 

“We want to find him too. I double checked with the nurses the morning after,” Hoseok says, “but they said there’s no such patient.”

“He couldn’t have just disappeared.” 

“Maybe he did.” Hana says, “it’s not impossible right? If he’s caught, it’s bad, right?” 

She has a point. You consider the possibility that he could’ve ran off when he got the chance. Staying would mean he’d be under police custody. 

You stare at the blanket in front of you. “You’re right. Maybe he did run off…”

The tension in the room disperses slightly, Hoseok’s shoulders drop as you speak and Hana takes a seat.

“Sorry everyone,” you’re embarrassed at the way you snapped earlier, “I’m just really worried. I swear I thought he…”

“You went through a lot…we understand.” Hoseok says. 

The rest of the evening floats by, despite their efforts to distract you from worrying, you can’t seem to shake off the feeling in your chest. Hoseok’s laughter fills the room as they carry the conversation, and you smile every now and then, feigning interest.

⎼

Perhaps it’s the complete silence in your room that was driving you nuts, or the fact that you’d been asleep for three days prior, you just can’t seem to doze off. You’d requested everyone to take the night off, including your dad, knowing they’d spent the last few nights with you. 

Turning on your side, you spot a bouquet of your favourite flowers with a chocolate bar snuck in between the stalks. A little note is taped to it. 

I heard chocolates are good for the brain. heh. - Mia 

p.s I’m three doors down

The dimly lit hallway stretches all the way to the other end. Sitting on one of the empty seats along the hall, a security officer gives you a once over, surprised to see you up. The only other people around are two nurses at the station, busy with work and yet to notice you. Quietly, you tiptoe down the hall.

“Ma’am, aren’t you supposed to stay in bed?” The officer stands in your way, glancing at the fall risk tag around your wrist. 

“I couldn’t sleep.” You smile sheepishly, and put a finger to your lips. “Are you…guarding someone?” 

He shakes his head, “It’s just protocol. Most of the patients on this floor were admitted the same night. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Oh.” 

“I really think you should get back inside.” 

“I just want to stretch my legs.” You say, “Please. I’ve been in bed for days…” 

Despite his initial hesitation, he nods and lets out a sigh. “Fine. But don’t look at me if the nurses come for you.”

You give him an okay. If the patients in this hallway were there that night, could Jungkook be one of them? With a hint of hope, you walk past the rooms, scanning the names of the patients on the doors. 

You come to a stop three doors down. Amelia Han. Is this Mia? You gently push the handle down and the door open, trying not to make a sound. As the door clicks behind you, nerves settle in your tummy, and you see the bottom half of the bed, the rest of it covered by the curtain.

Peeking around the half-drawn fabric, you feel a sudden overwhelming sense of heartache and guilt.

“Mia,” you whisper. 

She turns at the sound of your voice. With as much energy as she can muster up, she pushes herself up to greet you with her warm smile. “Y/N.”

“I’m so happy to see you,” you run into her, and your arms wrap around each other, “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get you out of there. How are you?”

“Stop, it’s not your fault,” she chuckles, “I’m happy to see you too. I’m better now.” 

“That’s good.” Your eyes drift to the bandage on the side of the head, almost matching yours. “What did the doctor say?” 

“Concussion,” she shrugs, “and smoke inhalation apparently.” 

“Oh right,” you cringe, getting flashbacks of that night, “there was a fire and smoke everywhere. I tried to drag you out but then…” 

She watches you intently, grabbing your hand when your voice fades, “You don’t have to explain, I know you did what you could. It’s not like you made it out without getting hurt either. You had it worse than I did.” 

“You heard about that?” 

“I saw it on the news.” She says, “The police wouldn’t tell me anything, but I checked with the nurses and they told me you were just a couple doors down.” 

“They already came to see you? The police?” 

“Yeah for a bit,” she nods, “Since I was a bartender there. They were asking a lot of questions, but I could barely concentrate. So they told me they’ll get me in for a proper interview once I’m discharged.” 

“I see. Won’t be long before they start knocking on my door too.” You sigh. 

Mia watches your eyes glaze over as you drift into your thoughts, barely moving save for the breaths you take. She taps you on your cheek. “I lost you there for a moment.”

“Sorry,” you chuckle, feeling embarrassed.

“Something’s bothering you,” she says, as a matter of factly, “talk to me, I’m here for you.” 

The heaviness weighing in your chest is begging for a release. Still, you’re unsure if it’s something you should be burdening Mia with, despite her receptiveness. She urges you once again, and you heave out a loaded breath. 

“The last thing I remember was Jungkook running towards me, screaming my name. Hongjun’s gun was pointing towards him…I swear everything was going hazy at that point, and I felt like I was drowning or something. But I know for sure his gun went off, because there was a loud boom, like⎼ like an explosion and then my ears starting ringing and I was falling and⎼” 

A firm squeeze around your hand keeps you grounded when the words start spilling out.

“And I don’t know what happened to Jungkook…” 

A stray tear falls, and seconds later you break down into soft weeps as Mia lets you have her shoulder, a soothing hand over your back. She’s worried too, from the lack of response, and when you pull away, her brows are furrowed as if trying to make sense of your story. 

“He can’t be…” she shakes her head, “He was probably admitted as well.” 

“My friends checked, there’s no record of him.” 

Mia thinks, grabbing her phone on the side table. You never got yours back after Hongjun kidnapped you. Her finger hovers over Jungkook’s name for a second before pressing the call and putting it on loudspeaker. But it was over before it even began. No dial tone, just a pause before a long beep and the call ends.

“He probably ran off, right?” You ask, seeking validation.

“Y-yeah!” She huffs out a smile, one you can see right through. “Probably! Maybe at the other end of the planet right now enjoying a nice drink! Nothing better than what I could make though.” 

Giggling follows, but you both know it only masks your concerns. 

“Crazy how this turned out…” Mia says softly. 

“Right? Crazy…” You sigh, mindlessly touching the area around your neck, still sensitive to touch.

Mia notices, and says, “At least he won’t hurt us anymore. When I saw the clip of him dropping to the ground⎼ I was strangely relieved.” 

“Wait, Hongjun…he got⎼ is he?” 

Mia studies your face. “He’s dead.” 

A recollection of moments where your paths had crossed with him flash through your mind, though none pleasant. From the first time you spotted him at the diner, to the times you conspired with him, and right down to the moments before he held you hostage, staring at the body of Taeho at the foot of the steps.

He hadn’t been at the forefront of your mind, nor your interest. But the thought of him being gone is shocking nonetheless, leaving you with a strange feeling. 

⎼

“Seems like we’ve got a solid case,” The superintendent removes his glasses and shuts the file on his desk. “But before the trial, we do need to double check and triple check that we have every evidence, every report, every witness on record. I know it took a lot to get this far, everyone did an excellent job.” 

“Thank you, sir.” The chief of police stands behind the two men seated before the superintendent. Placing his hands on each of their shoulders, he nods. “All thanks to these two. They led the entire operation, from start to end.” 

“It was a team effort.” Seokjin says. 

Namjoon agrees, “Everyone did their parts well. Including Jun’s team.” 

“That’s good to hear. We’ll arrange for a meeting with everyone present so we can go through this together and prepare everyone for the trials. It’s a big case, every little detail can and will be questioned.” 

“Yes sir.” They say in unison. 

“I’ll be in touch.” He nods, “Dismissed.” 

As they move to leave the room, Namjoon stops short of the door and turns back. “Sorry sir, I do have one last question.” 

“What is it, detective?”

“My informant, he was a huge help in⎼”

“Yes, I’ve received your request for immunity.” He says, noticing the look of worry on Namjoon’s face. “Don’t worry, I’m looking into it.” 

“Thank you, sir.” 

⎼

The ride to the station was nerve-wracking. But you had no reason to be nervous, you reminded yourself multiple times as the officer led you to the interrogation room. 

“Just standard procedure.” He says as you take a seat. Pressing your fingers to the spot under your jaw, you take deep breaths to calm yourself. It had taken everything in you not to panic when Hana, Hoseok and your dad were told to wait downstairs. 

A minute later the door clicks open and you breathe out in relief to see your lawyer coming through. Soo Ah had been the one to contact you, offering her services. After checking out some of her previous work, you decided to let her help you. “Sorry I'm late.” She mutters, pulling up the seat next to you. 

“Not at all.” You smile.

She carries a strong aura which gives you a sense of protection. “You ready?” She asks. “Remember, stick to what we discussed.”

You nod, taking a deep breath.  

Seconds later, a detective enters, carrying with him a bunch of files. He sets a notepad in front of him and starts with the formalities. “This should be fairly quick, we’d just like to ask a couple of questions pertaining to the night of the incident.” 

You nod, suddenly feeling like a lock had tightened over your lips. 

“So, to start off, could you tell me what happened that night?” He smiles, pen hovering over the paper. 

Your lawyer nods reassuringly, having already gone over what you were going to say the day before. “I was there with a friend. But I lost her in the crowd. Then there was the fire and I couldn’t find my way out. I thought I could run out the back or through a window….or something…”

Your voice fades off towards the end and your lawyer places her hand to the small of your back. Taking a deep breath, you continue, “That’s when I bumped into him…” 

The detective nods, writing it all down. “And do you visit this club often?” 

“Quite. It’s where everyone goes.” 

“I see.” He says. “And have you ever seen that man before that night?” 

“I⎼”

The door bursts open and all heads turn to it. You hear his voice before he makes his entrance and your heart skips a beat. “Sorry everyone, I had a meeting to attend to.”

The younger detective stands to greet him, startled. “Detective Kim,” he fixes his tie, “I was told to stand in for the interview. We’re in the middle of it right now.”

“Thank you detective,” Namjoon smiles, offering his hand for a shake, “but I’m here now. So I’ll be taking over. Would that be okay with you?” 

The question was directed to you. And you blink in surprise. 

“What is this?” Your lawyer steps in. “Please don’t waste any more of my client’s time. You should’ve sorted this out before the appointment.” 

“My apologies.” Namjoon says. He nods to the other guy, who then nods in understanding and quietly dismisses himself. “Let’s continue.” 

He looks at the notes previously written by the other detective. “Okay, so have you ever seen that man before that night?” 

“Um,” your throat goes dry, feeling the weight of their stares at you. You hadn’t considered that Namjoon would be the one asking the questions. “N-no. I haven’t.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay. Did you see anything before the incident? Anything suspicious? Perhaps something that would make you a target?”

“Are you suggesting my client had involvement in the events of that night?”

“I’m asking if she had witnessed anything she wasn’t supposed to, which made her a target.” 

His eyes shift to you. 

“No.”

“It’s just a matter of being at the wrong place, at the wrong time.” Your lawyer continues, “like she said earlier, she was trying to find a way out, but ran into him instead.” 

“Hm.” Namjoon nods, pressing his lips together. He opens up one of the files which show a string of pictures. Some of them you recognise from Hongjun’s team, and Hongjun was among them. “Do you recognise any of these men?” 

He slides the file closer to you. Your breath shakes as you take a look and you point to Hongjun’s photo. “Him.”

“Just him?” 

You look again, clearly recognising Taeho and Junho. You nod. “Just him. He was the one who took me hostage.” 

“Alright.” Namjoon nods. “Anything else you would like to share with us?” 

He keeps a straight face, but his brows raise when you delay your response. “No.” You shake your head. 

“Okay then.” Namjoon nods. “I hope you can rest easy knowing he’s no longer going to cause you trouble. Please let us know if you have any concerns and…that’s all for today. We’ll be in contact if the need arises.” 

Namjoon starts to pack up. Soo Ah does so too and you sit there watching them. For some reason, you’re disappointed at how short this turned out to be, especially since you want more time to speak to Namjoon. 

As you leave the room behind the two of them, you watch Namjoon hold the door open for you. You’re about to leave right behind Soo Ah, while Namjoon is headed in the opposite direction, when you turn back to him. 

“Detective?” You ask and he stops in his tracks. “Can I speak to you for a moment?” 

You look at your lawyer and give her a nod before walking to Namjoon. The hallway is clear, though lined with offices throughout. But the frosted glass offers you some privacy. 

“Namjoon,” you speak in a whisper. 

“We can’t do this right now.” He says in an equally soft tone. “People are watching.”

“I just need to know if he’s okay.”

You look up at him with sad glossy eyes. His shoulders slump like he knows he wants to help but he can’t. “I really can’t say anything right now.” 

“Please at least tell me if he’s ali⎼”

“Detective Kim.” A deep and commanding voice startles you into taking a step back. Namjoon straightens up and nods at the source. The man ignores your presence, grabbing Namjoon by the shoulder, motioning him to come along. “My office please, now. We have to talk about the…”

You watch regretfully as they get further away. Namjoon turns back to you before they take a turn around the corner, his apologetic eyes bore into yours, mouthing a sorry before he disappears from sight.

⎼

3 weeks later , Monday

“I said I’m fine.” 

In fact you’re quite the opposite. And you feel bad for snapping at Hana, you never mean for the words to come out the way they do, but it happens before you can stop yourself. “Sorry…just…don’t worry about me.” 

She looks on with an apprehensive look on her face. Though she wants to help, she knows when not to overstep. 

It’s been three weeks since the incident, two weeks since you were able to be discharged, and a week since it was announced that Kim was dead.

“Big time mob boss, Kim Man Shik, dies following two weeks of intensive care…”

It hits you like a brick the moment it follows with details of the case, and only then had you realised they were talking about Kim. Part of you was relieved, now he would no longer be a threat, no longer a looming danger out to get you. But at the same time, you realise, he’s spared from the consequences he ought to receive. 

Then your mind springs back to Jungkook. Still no news of him. You had no idea if he was dead or alive. Of course, you keep telling yourself that no news is good news. Maybe he managed to escape. Surely if anything had happened to him, they’d come looking for you. 

The lack of clarity surrounding it all leaves you in a state of emotional turmoil. And your friends are at the brunt of it.

“I just need some air, okay?” You don’t spare her a glance as you slip out the door. The temperature’s dropped significantly, sharp winds forcing you to hide your face in a scarf and hands in your pockets.

Since you got back, your trips out of the apartment have consisted mainly of visits to and from the police department to tie up loose ends. Thankfully, none of the questions had been about your relationship to anyone in the club, more so as an ex-employee once they picked up that you used to work there.

You find yourself going down the normal route to school, missing the normalcy of it all. The incident left you on long-term medical leave. Decidedly, your dad wanted you to take the term off, and focus on recovering. You had no say in it, though there was no objection on your part.

But now standing in front of campus, you think maybe a little academic distraction might have been better. Now you’re free to think, and you don’t want to do that. 

“Y/N?” Turning on your heel, you find Hoseok walking out the gate, eyeing you. “I thought that was you. Why are you here?” 

“Getting some air.” 

“Oh.” He waits for you to say something, anything. Instead you continue staring at the campus. “Do you wanna go get one of the crappy food hall meals? I can come with you.” 

“No, thanks.”

“How about the rugby game tonight?” 

He’s only trying to help, you keep reminding yourself. Just like Hana, everyone’s been super nice to you, and you’re appreciative, but after three weeks you’re tired of them walking on eggshells around you. 

You just want things to go back to normal. 

Hoseok was expecting another rejection, waiting as you looked to the ground in contemplation. “How about a drive instead?” You suggest, and his eyes light up.

It’s been months since you’ve been in his car, and he’s more than happy to have you sitting in the passenger seat again. He takes a scenic route, and you spend most of the ride with your attention on what’s outside, though he doesn’t seem to mind. 

The radio plays at a nice volume, not too loud but enough to keep the ride pleasant. He, himself is uncharacteristically quiet, and you know it’s because of you. When you turn to him, his eyes are focused on the road. Yet he doesn’t miss the chance to flash a smile. 

“I never got to thank you,” you say out of the blue. 

He waves you off. “No need for that, I love going on drives.” 

You giggle and it’s music to his ears. After weeks of solemnity, he’s excited to finally get a glimpse of the old you again. “I mean, for everything else, Hoseok.” 

“Oh,” he chuckles. “Nah, don’t mention it.” 

“No seriously.” You face the road this time. “You’re always looking out for me. For us. It’s why I knew I could count on you that night. Thanks for coming over and keeping Hana company.” 

He doesn’t respond for a while, wheels turning in his head. “I froze for a while, you know?” He admits. “When she told me you escaped, but then those men took you away again. I felt so helpless. And when I got to your apartment, we watched the whole thing go down on the news. And all I could do was sit there.” 

“Just because you weren’t the one taking down the bad guys doesn’t mean you were useless.” You say, “At that time, I needed you to be there for Hana. And you were. That itself means the world to me. So thank you.”

He tries to hide the immense joy bubbling in his chest with a tight lipped smile. The car takes an exit up ahead, and you see him driving towards water, a beach just outside of the city. You come to a stop by the side of the road where other cars have parked in a line. He motions for you to get out. 

“Said you wanted some air.” He says, leading the way. 

You walk a step behind him, taking in the salty air and the sounds of waves crashing into the beach. He finds a spot where the grass meets the sand, and plops down, saving the space next to him for you. The two of you sit and watch as other beach-goers go on to live their normal lives, something you envy them for. 

If you close your eyes and imagine hard enough, you transport yourself back to nights with Jungkook. Sitting on the hood of his car, staring up at the night sky. Head resting on his arm, snuggled into his side. You’d go on and on about the day or week you’ve had while he smiles as he listens to you. 

But it’s all just a memory now. 

When you open your eyes, you realise Hoseok is watching you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Still worried about him?” 

Everyone has basically made up their mind on Jungkook’s disappearance. They believe he managed to escape somehow. That he’s laying low in a different state, different country, trying to start fresh. Though you want to feel the same, you just can’t shake this feeling inside you that it’s not the case. 

“Always.” You say. “I have so many questions. But no one has the answers.” 

It’s hard for Hoseok, not knowing how to comfort you, not when he doesn’t have the answers himself. How does he reassure you that everything will be okay? The only person that can do that now is Jungkook. 

That’s not to say that he didn’t try to help. On his own, he’d gone to several hospitals in the city, just in case Jungkook had admitted himself there. But he came up empty. Still, you were thankful for his efforts. 

“Sorry.” He says and you question it. 

“For what? You did more than I ever asked of you.” From the look on his face, you can tell he wants to do even more, anything to cheer you up. “I should be sorry for troubling you.” 

“You’ve never troubled me,” he says. The lingering stare is one loaded with his feelings for you. Which is another thing you feel sorry for. As if he could read your mind, he says, “You know I’m glad you guys met.” 

You wait for him to go on, unsure of where he’s going with this.

“No one has had quite the effect on him as you have.” He smiles, although heavy-hearted. “Even I was going to give up on him. Kick him out of the house. Then you came and everything changed.”

“Yet it turned out exactly as you predicted it would.”

“Some things we have no control over,” he sighs, pressing his lips into a line, “but in hindsight, he was a lot better after you came into his life. The Jungkook I knew before that was a far cry from your Jungkook. Even though he still hates me, shouts at me, rolls his eyes whenever I speak…wait what was the point I was trying to make?”

You laugh out loud for the first time in weeks, feeling the stretch of your cheeks. The dynamic these two have was never something you could help with. They just don’t go well together, like water and oil. 

“Just kidding,” he chuckles too, “I was too harsh on him.”

“You meant well.”

“I said things that I shouldn’t have. I just couldn’t understand why he was like that.” Hoseok looks down at the sand, drawing lines with a twig. “But after the conversation we had, I realised maybe instead of trying to get him to understand me, I should’ve tried to understand him instead. I barely know anything about him, so why was I trying to change him so badly?”

You wonder what Jungkook would think if he were to hear Hoseok saying any of this. 

“He was right, I did have a saviour complex. And he was the perfect victim. I just had to meddle, had to call Namjoon and tell him about the drugs.” Hoseok’s startled when he feels your palm on his shoulder. He hadn’t realised he was monologuing. He’s here to comfort you, not the other way around. He shakes his head. “Sorry. The last few weeks got me thinking, that’s all.”

“Everything you did came from a good place.”

A bitter smile flashes across his face, one that turns apologetic when he looks you in the eyes. “I even tried to pit you against him, remember?” 

You sigh, closing the gap between you. Your knees brush against each other. “We’re all flawed in some way. You had good intentions, but maybe the delivery was bad. Jungkook heard you but he couldn’t feel you. And yeah, sometimes…our emotions get the better of us.”

He avoids eye contact when you tilt your head to look at him. 

“At some point, you changed targets and instead of trying to protect him, you wanted to protect me.”

He makes a guttural sound, rubbing his eyes with the back of his palm. “Embarrassing.”

“Yeah.”

At that, he shoots you a look and you both break into a fit of laughter after a second. “Jokes aside, you’ve done more good than harm, if that’s what you’re worried about. You’re a really good friend.”

“So are you.” His hand rests atop your head, ruffling your hair and you shove him in protest. 

⎼

Tuesday

Mia hooks her arm around yours, trying to match your step as you walk. “The word going around is that someone ratted on Kim, disclosed their plans that night. He was going to leave with Mr. B till they were ambushed.” 

“Really? Wow,” your try and piece the timeline together in your mind, wondering who it could’ve been, “that’s surprising considering how loyal everyone seemed to be.”

“Hey, when you’re in deep trouble, you’re gonna do everything it takes to save yourself.” 

“Right.” You nod, “Who told you all of this anyway?”

“A friend of a friend of a friend.” She gives you a look. “When you’ve made enough connections in this line, it’s easy to fish for info. But you know, take them with a grain of salt. Not everything is true.” 

“Does anyone happen to have tea on Jungkook?” You ask, half joking, half serious. 

“I tried.” She pouts, shaking her head. “That’s what’s weird, no one’s seen him since. I guess maybe he did escape after all?” 

Your shoulders slump and you find interest in the ground. The more everyone grows into the idea of him having run off, the more you lean away from it. 

“Why? You don’t think so?” Mia tilts her head, looking at the lines on your forehead that form when you frown.

An exasperated sigh leaves you. “I don’t know. Like you said, it’s odd. My friends seem to think he did run off though.” 

“Is that why you’re upset at them?” 

“I’m not upset at them.” Your friends would disagree, “It just feels shitty every time they try to make me think the same. What if I don’t believe that he ran off?”

“Do you?”

You think about it for a moment. “I just have a feeling that he’s still here.” 

“That could be true too,” Mia says, “when I say escape, I don’t mean he’s left to another country, he’s probably gone underground. I doubt he’d let himself get caught. He’s been doing this for years, don’t you think he’d know where to go, who to go to?” 

“No, you’re right,” you laugh it off, but she recognises the bitterness of the sound. “I guess I just…I’m worried about him.”

Her shoulder gently nudges yours, and you perk up. “Of course you are, you have every right to be.”

“I’d be happy if he’s safe somewhere far away, but no one can confirm that,” you say, “so how can I go about my life normally without knowing for sure that he’s fine?”

Mia listens, nodding her head. 

“What if Hongjun did shoot him that night? Did he get help? Is he well? Is he even alive?...” 

Your voice drifts off towards the end and your steps get slower. The thought is always at the back of your mind, though you try hard not to think about it. What if he’s actually dead? And that’s why no one knows where he is? What if he’s lying somewhere in the middle of an alley or an abandoned warehouse?

Mia’s fingers dig into your shoulders, shaking you out of it. Her brown eyes lock in on yours, hypnotising you with her spirit. “You’re spiralling. Stop doing this to yourself.”

You take a deep breath, “Sorry. Ever since Kim’s death I just keep wondering if Jungkook too…”

“Until we know for sure, don’t let those thoughts consume you.” 

“I wish it were that easy.” you carry on walking. 

“Consider this, you don’t know where Suga is either right?”

You stop in your tracks. As embarrassing as it is, you hadn’t considered Suga in all of this. You squeeze your eyes shut, mentally palming yourself for overlooking the one person that’s always had Jungkook’s back. Mia raises her brows, knowing she’s made a point. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?” You ask in a whisper.

“Cause you have tunnel vision when it comes to Jungkook.” She chuckles. “But for real, they could have escaped together. And if he has Suga by his side, I’m sure he’s okay. Although…”

“What?” 

The hopeful look she had on earlier briefly vanishes. “I do have some info. Which may or may not be true but⎼ I know a guy who used to bartend with me at the club like a year ago, he thinks he saw Suga on the other side of the city; you know, where the rich people live.”

“Huh. What would he be doing there?” 

“Beats me,” she pouts, “he said he was going for his shift at the Grand Lot or something. And he may have seen someone that looks like Suga walking past him.”

“Wait, do you mean Grandeur Loft?” 

Mia’s brows knit together as she tries to recall. “I think so?” 

That’s the apartment building you’d been to previously. The address on the paper. Where you’d woken up in that one morning. What would Suga be doing there? 

“Then another contact of mine told me Suga was seen with this one guy; he deals with IDs and stuff. Passports, VISAs, everything.”

“Oh,” it hits you, “so that means…they could’ve left.”

“Maybe. But they weren’t a hundred percent sure it was him.” Mia shrugs. “But, I am still inclined to believe those two are together somewhere.”

It gives you a glimmer of hope to know he might not be alone after all. If anyone out there would make sure Jungkook’s okay, it’d be Suga. 

“Okay, this is good.” You nod, and Mia laughs. “I mean I’m not happy that Suga’s also missing, but⎼”

“Chill, I get it.” 

“Thank you Mia.” 

She smiles and goes in for a hug. 

While Mia had left you in quite a good mood earlier in the morning, night time comes and you stay tossing and turning still. It’s become a routine, only being able to fall asleep once your mind is fully tired out from overthinking. 

Suga being missing might not mean anything, what if Jungkook’s not even with him? And was he really at Grandeur Loft? What for? But no. No one was sure it was him. He might not even be alive. Ugh. You curse your brain for always thinking of the worst.

You turn to your side, and your eyes land on a bouquet of flowers that you got. It was delivered in the morning, just before you left to meet with Mia. In a hurry, you had quickly placed it in a glass cup and left it on your table without much thought. 

Thinking back, it hadn’t come with a note, nor a name from the delivery man. 

Your phone screen blinds you momentarily as you move to search for the type of flowers they were. After five minutes of scrolling, you find a match. Forget-Me-Nots. 

You have never received Forget-Me-Nots before. They’re a peculiar choice, you think. But only in comparison to the flowers you’ve gotten over the last few weeks from friends and colleagues. 

You click on a link explaining the meaning of this specific flower. 

‘..Represents true love…It is a testament to your relationships and promises the other person that you will never forget them in your thoughts…”

A weird feeling creeps its way to your heart.

⎼

Wednesday

The next day, you decide to head back to work. An ongoing 1-for-1 coffee deal was happening, and the manager had asked if you were good to come down and support the team. Of course, you jumped at the chance. It’s refreshing to step back in the cafe, the smell of brewing coffee and freshly baked pastries giving you life. 

It doesn’t take long for you to get back into the hang of it, though you were tasked only to handle the drinks with two others. 

As you carry out an order, placing coffee, milk and ice cubes into the blender, put it on medium speed, you look at the tag to make sure it’s right. A caramel frappuccino. Jungkook’s regular order.

You let yourself dwell on it for a minute. But then realise there’s no time to get distracted. You top it with whipped cream and a drizzle of caramel, before placing it on the counter and yelling out the order. One after the other, the orders kept coming, and you worked on drink after drink, without so much as a glance at the customers, appearing only as a blur of faces crowded around the collection area.

By the end of the day, you were slumped. Maybe coming back on a busy day wasn’t the best idea, but you felt a semi-semblance of normalcy again. 

The last few customers remain as you start closing. You go around clearing the tables and returning dishes to the kitchen. The last table at the back grabs your attention, the chair being pushed in, and the finished cup placed neatly, with a serviette neatly placed next to it. 

It had writing on it, and while you usually would not spare it another glance, something about the way it was organised made you curious. So you unfolded the napkin and felt a knot in your stomach.

You make the best caramel frappe. 

A sharp gasp leaves your lips. There was no name on the cup, nor do you remember seeing his face, but the thought lingers, could it have been Jungkook? Your chest tightens at the possibility. 

You look out the glass windows, searching for anyone you might recognise. A few tables down, Hana notices, and she follows your line of sight. “What’s wrong?” She asks, brows furrowed. 

“Oh. Nothing.” You smile, turning back around. 

You go back to clearing tables and finish closing with the team, pushing the note to the back of your mind. But as soon as you’re safe in your room, you remove the crumpled napkin from your pocket, and stare at it again. 

You then find yourself rummaging through a stack of papers on your table, searching for the one assignment you recall Jungkook having left on your table. You feel that squeeze in your chest as you place the paper and napkin side by side, studying the handwriting. 

Jungkook.

As you drop into your chair, your eyes find the flowers from yesterday. The purple, blue and white flowers look prettier than before. What are the odds that the flowers and this note came to you consecutively?  Your hands shake as you let your fingers graze along the petals.

There’s no way of knowing if you’re right, but you know it’s him. You just know it. 

A sudden swelling of your heart leaves you in tears.

For the first time in a while, your mind is clear. A huge weight has been lifted, and a surge of adrenaline rushes through your veins. It’s him. 

He’s alive.

⎼

Thursday

The following day, you go back to the cafe despite not having a shift, in case he shows up again. Your mood had improved considerably, earning a curious look from Hana in the morning. You thought of telling her, but stopped yourself in the end. 

She has been extra protective ever since you got discharged. It would only worry her. Not only that, she’s concerned about how fixated you’ve been on Jungkook. Granted, she does understand how you feel, but the emotional rollercoaster you’ve been on can’t be healthy for you. 

So telling her you think Jungkook sent you those flowers and the message, would only get her stressed. Even if you showed her the handwriting, she’d have a hard time believing it.

“Hey munchkin,” Taehyung squeezes you in his arms and you chuckle at the random nickname. “You look better.” 

“Thanks I guess.” You smile behind your cup, taking a sip. Your eyes fix on the windows, observing every person that walks past. 

“When will you be back?” Jimin takes up the space next to you while Taehyung blocks your strategic view of the cafe doors. 

Jimin looks at you weird when you adjust your seat slightly to the side, eyes glued to the doors. “Oh, I don’t know yet. Maybe after term break.” 

The two of them exchange glances at your odd behaviour. You only notice after the long silence that follows, their stares hooked on you, observing every person that walks into the shop. 

“Yeah, you’re definitely not better.” Jimin comments, pulling up the chair next to you, while Taehyung goes into the kitchen for his shift. “What’s up?”

You feign nonchalance, shaking your head at his question, as if you weren’t just staring down every customer. “What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Been trying to clear out our rooms before break. Mama Hoseok’s driving us nuts.” 

“Clearing your rooms?”

“After the whole drug case the administration wants to do a good sweep of the greek houses,” he clarifies, “so Hoseok thinks it’s a good time for us to do some spring cleaning.” 

“Oh.” You nod, thinking of those who used to get their stash from Jungkook, wondering how they’re fairing. 

“You’re not busy right? Come and help us.” Jimin starts pouting when he sees your apprehension. “Please? Hoseok would be less naggy if you’re around.”

Helping out wasn’t the issue, it was more of not wanting to leave in case Jungkook shows up. But he doesn't know that. You didn’t say a yes, but technically not a no either. So half an hour later, you find yourself walking up the steps of the Omega house, feeling strangely nostalgic, though it hasn’t been that long. But as you reach the top of the steps, you freeze, looking at the door to Jungkook’s room.

You don’t even hear Jimin asking if you’re okay, completely blocking out everything. Until you see Hoseok coming into view from the other side of the corridor. His wide eyes immediately shift over to Jimin. “What are you doing?” 

“I thought she could…you know,” Jimin nods towards Jungkook’s door and Hoseok straightens up with a look that could kill. 

He clenches his teeth, “Are you crazy?” to which Jimin responds with a whisper and you watch as they go back and forth, arguing. 

“I don’t mind.” You interrupt, both eyes drifting over to you.

Hoseok abandons Jimin’s side and a hand rests on your back. “Are you sure about this?” 

You’re not. And it might get too much for you, hell, you froze just looking at the door. But perhaps you needed this. To be surrounded by things that belong to him, in the room he’s spent the last couple of years in. The room you’ve spent several nights wrapped up in his arms. Your heart thumps in your chest as your hand wraps around the doorknob.

Half expecting him to be there, the faint smell of his cologne greets you first, then it opens up to a warm, dusty, untouched room. In your mind you see him, laying on his bed, eyes lighting up at your presence.

“You don’t have to do much, just throw whatever he doesn’t need anymore.” Hoseok says, breaking through your thoughts. It calms you the way he speaks as if he believes Jungkook is coming back. Because even you’re not sure of it at this point. “I’ll leave the trash bag here.”

After reassuring him you’ll be okay, Hoseok finally leaves to give Jimin a piece of his mind in his room. You suck in a breath once you’re alone, closing the door and taking in his room.

The framed picture of you on his side table, wearing his favourite dress, unfortunately placed next to an out of place roll of tissue which you shake your head at. “Disgusting.” You chuckle, tossing the whole roll into the trash. 

A couple more random items you find lying around gets dumped. And you take it upon yourself to tidy up the mess he left, removing the sheets, sorting his stationery, and airing out his wardrobe. Keeping what Jimin said in mind, you did a quick sweep of all the places he could have hidden a secret stash; under the bed, behind furniture and inside the drawers, but came up empty. 

In two hours, it’s sorted. You’re left to bask in the emptiness of the room. You rest on his bed, eventually laying down and staring at the ceiling, trying to recall the feeling of his body right next to yours, arm heavy over your waist, snoring in your ear. You bury your face into his pillow, snaking an arm under it, only to find something else. 

It’s a polaroid of the two of you, taken by one of your friends; he’s behind you, arms wrapped around you with his chin resting on your head, while your head rests on his arm. He wears the biggest grin on his face, one you miss so dearly. 

A knock on the door has you sitting up. It opens slowly and Jimin’s head appears, he looks around and smiles, “Wow! Can you do my room next?”

“For a small fee.”

He groans before the door is being pushed open wide, and Jimin almost trips as he’s dragged along with it. Hoseok comes through and takes a good look around. Jimin rolls his eyes when Hoseok’s back is to him. “See? This is how you do it. Clean, organised.”

“I checked for any hidden packages.” You add, “None.”

Hoseok’s impressed, smiling wide at you, but his smile drops when he turns back to Jimin. “You have till the end of the day before I sort out your room myself.”

Jimin struts off, muttering some curses along the way. Hoseok offers you an apologetic smile when the sound of Jimin’s door slamming shakes the walls. 

“Thank you,” he says, “let me send you back.”

Your feet find it difficult to leave, your steps feel heavy as you make your way out. You make sure to grab one of his sweaters and take a good look once more before closing the door. 

“Keepsake?” He purses his lips to the folded sweater on your lap as he pulls out of the driveway. 

A tender smile crawls across your face. “Yeah.”

“That’s his favourite isn’t it?” Hoseok says, surprising you. “He’s always wearing that. He’s gonna throw a fit when he finds it missing.”

The corners of your lips lower, turning your smile into a look of contemplation. Your eyes set on the fabric and your hands graze the material. The sudden change doesn’t go unnoticed and Hoseok shifts uncomfortably, wondering if he’d said something wrong. “Sorry. I shouldn’t joke about that.” 

“No.” You force a smile. “It’s not that.” 

Silence follows as he waits for you to continue. He wishes he could read your mind, because now you’re breaking into another smile. He’s starting to think maybe leaving you with Jungkook’s stuff wasn’t the best idea. 

“You’re actually scaring me.” 

You laugh even more at the genuine fear etched on his face. “I don’t know how to tell you this.” 

With his brows furrowed and knuckled tightening on the steering wheel, he keeps switching his attention between you and the road. He grows impatient when you don’t go on. 

It’s when he stops at a red light, now being able to concentrate on what you’re saying, fully turning his body to you, that you finally decide to speak. 

“I think he’s back.”

⎼

Friday

The school grounds feel oddly unfamiliar after the weeks of absence. Walking down the halls now feels like you’re an outsider. Though, it’s heartwarming to know your classmates have missed you since, running up to you as soon as they catch sight of you to ask how you’ve been.

While the incident was the talk of the town initially, interest about it faded gradually, sparing you from the stares you used to get before taking the term off.

You walk behind Hana, tugging on the back of her top to keep from getting separated. After braving the crowd, you spot the table the boys have reserved on the lawn, Jimin waving in the distance. 

You know what this intervention is about. Across from him, you shoot him a glare, corners of your lips turned down in a frown. Hoseok looks away innocently, holding back a smile. Of course, he’s not trying to be cute, he knows you’re angry. 

“You just had to yap.” You start the conversation, folding your arms on the table. 

“Yeah, not cool dude.” Jimin folds his arms in protest as well.

Hoseok opens his mouth to defend himself but Hana puts her hand up to stop him. The three of you turn your attention to her. “You should’ve told me.”

“I didn’t want you to worry.” 

“Now I’m even more worried!” She presses her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “What else have you been hiding from me?” 

“Nothing!” You sigh. This was exactly what you were trying to avoid. But you can’t blame Hoseok entirely, you’d forgotten to tell him to keep it on the low till you have solid proof, so naturally he mentioned it to Hana who all but panicked the night before. 

“What did he give you?”

“It was flowers three days ago.” You’re eyeing Hana, observing her reaction. “Then the next day after my shift, he left a message on a napkin.”

They’re unimpressed. “I compared the handwriting on the napkin with Jungkook’s old assignment and they match!” 

“So many people have similar handwriting.” Hoseok argues, then shuts his lips when you narrow your eyes at him. “I’m just saying.” 

“He’s right though,” Jimin says, “what did he write on the napkin?”

“That I make the best caramel frappe.”

Hana groans and they simultaneously shift in their seats, finding it hard to understand your logic. Even Jimin, who was on your side earlier, presses his lips into a thin line, as if he’d have to break your bubble of delusion. 

“That could’ve been anyone,” Hana reasons, “probably a flirty customer.”

“A caramel frappuccino is Jungkook’s regular order. It’s like a thing he used to say to me, that he only ever likes the ones I make.” You’re borderline sounding desperate. “And the flowers? Do you guys know what forget-me-nots mean? He’s basically telling me he’s still thinking of me. I wasn’t sure the first time but now, I’m positive it’s him.”

“I don’t know,” Hana thinks about it, “I feel like I need more than that.”

“Wouldn’t he have tried contacting you first? Like a text or something?” Jimin asks. 

You angle your head towards him and raise a brow. “I don’t have my phone, dummy. Lost it when I got kidnapped, remember?” 

“Oh right…” He trails off, deep in though. 

Your hand rests atop Hana’s, and you look her in the eye. “I know it’s him, trust me.”

“I do trust you.” She places her free hand on yours. “But I’m just not convinced it’s him. Not based on handwriting alone.”

“Well what do you want him to do?” 

“Show up.” Jimin says mindlessly, shrugging when the other two look at him. He’s saying what they’re thinking. 

Hana plays with her fingers for a few seconds, “Well, yeah actually.” 

“We just can’t be sure it’s him.” Hoseok says, “Unless we know it’s him…it could literally be anyone. Unless he actually shows his face and⎼”

“Well he can’t exactly do that right now, can he?”

The bitterness that seeps through your words cuts them like a knife. It’s been a touchy subject from the beginning and they’re always careful with what they say. 

“I feel like none of you actually want him to come back.”

“It’s not that,” Hana sighs, “I don’t want you to get your hopes up about something that may not even be true.”

Though you saw it coming, and you know you’re being overly sensitive about this, it still hurts to know they don’t believe it’s him. That they’d rather believe he’d be okay with leaving halfway across the world without so much as a word to you, without thinking of you. 

And maybe that’s what really scares you. To think that it’s possible he’s really gone, and okay with being without you. 

“Whatever,” you mutter as you get up, without so much as another glance at them. 

You hear them calling your name as you go, but you don’t turn, running into the crowded mess of the halls once again and rushing out. You hold back tears, not wanting to make a scene, or let anyone catch you crying. 

That night, you skip dinner, telling Hana you’re not hungry when she knocks on your door. You feel bad, but it would be worse to face her when you’re just not in the mood. Lying on your front, you start to wonder if it really was your imagination. Maybe you wanted it to be him so badly, you started to make sense of what didn’t. Maybe it was just a flirty customer. Maybe the flowers were from someone else entirely. 

How could you be so stupid to think that any of that was Jungkook? Maybe it’s time you accept that he’s gone for now. Even just the thought of him not coming back overwhelms you and your eyes burn as tears start to fall again.

You sigh, not wanting to dwell on this any longer. You need a distraction. It’s been a long time since you enjoyed a good movie or listened to some songs, so you flip your laptop open.

You click on the green icon on your screen and your spotify opens up, immediately overwhelming you with choices of playlists. You scroll through your original playlists, looking for a specific one, but find something odd. 

There’s one playlist you don’t remember creating. 

for my love ♡

You prop yourself up on your elbows, unable to contain the beating of your heart against your chest. Jungkook and you have been using a shared account, mainly because he doesn’t listen to music much, so he hijacks yours instead. 

You click on the playlist, brewing with anticipation. The songs were added just yesterday. Your breathing gets erratic as you try to keep your composure, and you look through the songs. 

hey lover! - wabie

miss you, dear - bol4

save your tears - the weeknd, arianna grande

love is not over - bts

love. - wave to earth

come back to me - R.M.

i swear i’ll never leave again - keshi

see you - amin, dept

p.s. i love you - paul partohap

still with you - jung kook

All doubt that clouded your mind just a minute ago vanishes into thin air. You were right, you were right all along. No longer do you doubt yourself and the love Jungkook has for you. Heart swelling with the love you have for him, you wish you could be with him right now, showing him how much he means to you. 

You close your eyes and let the music run, listening to the message of each song he’s chosen. You don’t know what to do with all the emotions going through you right now. Tears keep falling, but happy ones this time. 

You lie there, imagining being back in his arms, feeling his presence right next to you. 

⎼

Saturday

The playlist is your secret to keep. Partly because of yesterday’s events, but it also felt too intimate to be shared with anyone. Right now, it’s something between Jungkook and you, and you want to keep it that way. Waking up with a clearer mind, you head out. Just on your own this time. 

You couldn’t have asked for better weather; blue skies and a gentle breeze. White fluffy clouds follow you from the sky, as if excited to spend the day with you. After breakfast, you make your way to a huge bookstore that had just opened up, spending hours just browsing their collection and ending up with five new books.

By the afternoon, your body aches for your routine nap. But you carry on. Every time you pass by an alley, or a vacated building, you can’t help but to wonder where Jungkook is right now. Now that you know he’s alive, your shoulders feel a little less heavy. 

But you miss him still. 

The park serves as your next stop, the smell of the earth swallowing you whole in its embrace. You take a stroll, stopping to watch little children feed the ducks, petting several dogs on a walk, and watching teens play basketball on the court. 

You only pause when you reach your favourite spot. One where you spent many date nights with Jungkook. You’d seen it in your dreams while you were lying in the hospital, and your mind flashes back to it, how it ended…and you feel your energy draining even more. 

You simply walk past it, refusing to go back to the spot till you’re hand in hand with Jungkook. 

In the shade of a large tree, you find an empty bench and your back thanks you when you finally settle down. Perhaps your body has gotten too comfortable at home. You reach into your bag and pull one of the books you got and flip it open. 

An hour goes by before you realise someone has taken the seat next to you. You had been so absorbed you didn’t even notice. He quietly munches on a hotdog bun, watching the kids play football on the open grass on the other side of the footpath. His side profile gives off a strangely familiar vibe, but you can’t put your finger on it. 

“Glad to see you’re well.” He says before taking another bite, still facing forward. 

You crane your neck and scan the surrounding area. Is he talking to you? You scoot away slightly. 

Noticing this, he chuckles, “Don’t panic, y/n.”

“How do you know my name?” 

That’s when he snaps his head towards you, finally giving you the missing puzzle you needed. “Seokjin,” you say in a whisper, “you look different.”

He checks his casual attire; khaki cargo pants paired with a plain blue sweater, and a baseball hat to top it off. “I’d rather not sport a bulletproof vest while I’m enjoying my day off.” He smirks. 

Although you’re happy to see him, you realise you don’t know what to say. You’ve never had a normal conversation with him, nothing which didn’t involve the case. It had always been business, or him telling you to back off.

“How was the breakfast at that cafe? They just opened right?” He asks so casually you almost fall for it, then your brows knit in confusion, “Been meaning to go there but you know, super busy the last month. Were the pancakes dry?”

“You were following me?” It was more of a statement than a question.

He takes the last bite of his hotdog, leaving you time to process it. “Just checking in.” 

“Why? Do I have something to be worried about?” 

He takes a deep breath, then looks at you. “Don’t worry, no one’s after you. You’re safe.” 

“Okay,” you nod, “then why are you following me?” 

“Come, take a walk with me.”

⎼

“This was by far the longest and toughest case I’ve ever worked on.” Seokjin goes on, “It was all worth it though.”

As you walk with him for the last ten minutes, he shares details of the case that he’s allowed to talk about for now. Mostly what went down on his side, stuff you never knew was going on while you were dealing with Jungkook and Suga and Hongjun and⎼

“I was never really on board with letting you guys in on the case. But Namjoon insisted.” He shrugs. “And I trusted him.”

“I hope we didn’t end up making things more difficult.” You voice out, and he smiles. “We did, didn’t we?”

“I”m not gonna lie, I almost wanted to bring you in for meddling. But I must say…” he looks at the ground as he walks, kicking stray pebbles along the way, “You’ve got guts. You should consider joining us.” 

You spit out a laugh. “Please, I've had enough action to last me a lifetime.” 

“I hope you’re not too traumatised. It’s terrifying to be held hostage like that,” he stops walking and so do you. “I can’t imagine what went through your mind when that was happening.”

“A lot…” you scoff, heart rate increasing from just the thought of it. “But it was less terrifying when I saw you guys.”

Jin looks at you for a moment, then looks away again, as if he has more to say, but he can’t. You don’t realise how far you’ve walked, now all the way to the back of the park, a more secluded area where the footpath meets a road, just before a dead end. 

“This is where we separate.” He says, holding out a hand for you to shake. 

You tilt your head in confusion but shake his hand anyway. He then nods to a black SUV parked by the side. You look at the car and back at him. The sliding door opens automatically.

“I can’t say this is exactly an ideal situation to be in after all I’ve been through.” You say, earning a hearty laughter from him. 

“Good to know you’re taking precaution.”

“Don’t worry,” A familiar voice comes from the other side of the car. The windows are tinted, so you can’t see who it is, until he shows himself by the door. Namjoon waves. “I promise I’ll be nice.” 

⎼

It almost felt unreal. Somehow you had pushed Namjoon far back into your mind, reminded yourself that he couldn’t help you, he had better things to do, and accepted it for what it is. Seeing him now, greeting you with such warmth, as compared to what happened at the station three weeks ago, has you taken aback. 

The ride starts off quiet, and it makes you all too aware of everything around you. The leather rubs against your skin, the headboard’s a little too high, the seat belt too tight and the sound of the blinker irritates you.

“You mad at me?” Namjoon breaks the silence first. There’s an air of serenity surrounding him now, much calmer, unlike how he was the last few months. 

“No. Are you mad at me?” 

Your question makes him chuckle. “Whatever for?” 

“For troubling you.” 

“Believe it or not,” there’s a smile on his lips as he speaks, eyes on the road, “you weren’t my biggest problem. Of course, I was occupied trying to take down a renowned crime boss but…I guess you were there somewhere in the back of my mind.” 

You hit him with the back of your hand and he winces. “I mean if you didn’t have to look out for me, it would’ve been a lot easier. I kept interfering.” 

“I won’t deny that.” He nods, “You’re stubborn. Hard-headed.”

“I get it.” The glare you send him still makes his skin crawl. 

“But, your heart’s in the right place.”

Leaning back, you smile out the window and watch as the world goes by. He hasn’t told you where you’re going, but you don’t mind. With how busy he gets, you might not get another chance to speak to him like this. 

And your thoughts wander off to Jungkook. Now that you know he’s alright, you wonder if Namjoon does. And if he doesn’t, bringing it up would only put Jungkook in a bad position. Though they were friends at some point, Namjoon was undercover and it is his job to put criminals away, and that includes Jungkook if he gets the chance. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You ask after a while.

“Hm? Tell you what?” 

You turn to him, “That you were undercover.” 

He smiles, shaking his head. “You already knew too much. I’d just be putting you at risk.”

“Just say you don’t trust me and go.” You roll your eyes at him and your stare stays there for a while longer, questions running through your mind. “How did you do it?” 

A glimmer of delight shows on his face. It’s like he’s been waiting to tell you all about it, like a kid wanting to share their latest obsession with you. 

“When I first planned to infiltrate Kim’s organisation, I spent a lot of time studying Kim’s lower ranks,” Namjoon starts, “mainly those on the streets that run the show for him. They don’t know everything, but they weren’t my targets so that’s no issue. I just had to get them to trust me.”

“From there, I’d try to work my way up.” He laughs then, “But I guess I wasn’t as discreet as I thought. Word spread that there was a suspicious guy snooping around. I blew it basically.”

“What happened then?”

“Someone was sent to snuff me out. But…” Namjoon pauses, “one thing led to another and that person ended up being my informant.” 

“What?” You ask, flabbergasted. You wonder if this was the same person Mia was talking about, the one who betrayed Kim.

“I know, I was surprised too.” He laughs. “But people are complicated I guess. We met up a couple of times, I took a gamble and offered him to be my informant for a reduced sentence, and he took it up. Never told me why he did it though, he had a lot to lose considering how close he was to Kim and the higher ups.” 

“Where is he now? Is he okay?” 

“Haven’t seen him since the incident actually.” 

Someone close to the higher ups? You can’t imagine who else had been in on it. 

Namjoon laughs. “You know, when we planned for all this, I never expected there’d be an overprotective girlfriend to think about. Hoseok should’ve warned me.” 

The mention of Hoseok makes you wonder if he’d told him about your meeting today. “In all fairness, he didn’t know me well back then.” 

“Have you spoken to him recently?”

“Have you?” You flip the question back to him and he grins sheepishly. “You all but disappeared.”

“Sorry I was⎼”

“Busy, I know. Don’t worry.” You pat him on the shoulder. “We get it. We just…or I just felt like I was shoved to the side after it was all over, you know? I didn’t even know Hongjun was dead till Mia told me.” 

Namjoon admits his fault. “But remember, your knowledge of the case is a secret. So realistically, I couldn’t show that we were friendly. I didn’t want anyone dragging Hoseok into this either just because we’re friends. I kept my distance because of that.” 

That makes sense. Everyone’s eyes were on him as the lead detective, of course he’d take extra precaution. 

“Thankfully, no one suspected anything. No one we should worry about anyway, since the main targets are dead.” 

“Right.” You mutter, still trying to get used to the fact that Kim, Hongjun and his crew are all gone.

“I tried to eliminate any interest surrounding you. Afterall, you were a hostage victim, so it was fairly easy.” Namjoon said, “Then there was that first interview. I had a meeting prior, so I had to rush through it just to get to you on time. Although, I knew something like that might happen, which is why I sent Soo Ah to take your case.”

Your head snaps in his direction so quickly at the realisation. Soo Ah, your lawyer, had been Namjoon’s doing? It was odd when she showed up offering her services out of the blue, but you assumed it was only because of the high profile case.

“Hold on, that was you?” Your voice is laced with surprise. 

Namjoon’s dimple makes an appearance when he smiles again. “She’s a childhood friend, amazing lawyer. I called her in as a favour.” 

Even after everything, he tried his best to keep you safe. At the thought of it, your eyes start to brim with tears. “Namjoon…” 

He switches his attention between you and the road. “Aw come on, don’t start.” 

“I’m so touched.” You bring your sleeves to your eyes and wipe the wetness away. “Thank you. So much.” 

“It’s nothing.” He says mindlessly, though you disagree. 

As he turns the corner into a busy street, the car eventually slows down to a stop, heavy traffic ahead. It isn’t unexpected at this time of the day, when everyone’s leaving work. Now that he’s not occupied, Namjoon faces you. 

“I have one more surprise.” 

“What was the first one?” 

He takes offence at your question. “The first one was meeting me.” 

“Boo.” 

He presses his lips together and tilts his head sassily. His arm which was reaching for the compartment in front of you, backtracks. “I changed my mind. No presents.” 

“I’m just kidding,” you giggle, hooking your hand over his arm and he pulls away, only for you to pull him back. “Please? I love presents. Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseple⎼”

He scoffs, trying to keep a straight face. “Now I remember why I moved miles away from my sister.”

Despite his complaints, he pulls out a brown paper bag, handing it to you. Only for a moment do you hesitate before tearing the seal open. You look inside and let out a gasp. “My phone! You got it back!”

“I backtracked to where they held you during the kidnapping and bagged it.” He says, watching as you struggle to switch it on. He offers you a charging cable connected to the dashboard. “It was lying in a pile of trash they left behind.”

“Ew. But perfect.” A green swirl appears on screen as it starts to charge. “Namjoon, I can’t thank you enough! I thought I’d lost everything on here.” 

Once the phone comes to life, you brace yourself for the influx of notifications. It keeps you busy while Namjoon tries to find an alternate route. You swipe the notifications clear save for the tens of unread messages, mostly well wishes from friends. Then, it leaves you hovering over the homescreen, a picture of Jungkook and your hands intertwined. 

Glancing at the man next to you, he’s busy scrolling through the maps app on his device. Part of you wishes to tell him about Jungkook. Surely, he’d want to know if Jungkook’s alright. But you don’t take the risk. 

Sighing, you look out the window at the mass of cars outside. It’s much further than your area. He’s driven right into the busiest part of the city, where most office buildings are located, which explains the heavy traffic. Even more so at this time of day. 

As you let your head rest on the headboard, you stifle a yawn, feeling the events of the day taking a toll on you. 

“Long day?” He chuckles, similarly getting comfortable in his seat. “Why don’t you rest for a bit. This might take a while.”

“Where are we going again?” You ask sleepily, already leaning against the side.

“You’ll see.”

“Hm.” Your body melts into a slumber in less than five minutes with the aircon blowing in your face and the radio softly playing. Your mind drifts off to the night of the photo on your homescreen. The two of you had ditched the car, opting to walk that chilly night to a nice place downtown. 

Complaining that you were taking steps which were too small, Jungkook stretches his arm out to pull you along. As you go on your way, you snuck in a quick snap of your intertwined hands. The slight pause in your step when you do, has him complaining even more, and you shut him up with a kiss. It always works. His smile is the last thing you see before you’re awakened by the sound of an angry honk. 

“Whoops, sorry.” Namjoon glances at the rear view mirror, “That one’s on me. I cut him off.” 

You stretch your arms out in front of you and twist your back with what little space you have and sigh in content. Checking the time, you realise almost half an hour has passed. “That was a good nap.”

“Yeah? You were giggling in your sleep.” 

“Was I?” You remember the smile Jungkook flashed you in your dreams. 

“So listen, I wanted to talk to you about something.” His tone is a complete 180 from before. This is more like the Namjoon you’re used to. Though familiar, it scares you. “It’s about the case.”

“Okay.” 

When Namjoon goes quiet to focus on the road again, it’s then that you realise the car is passing by a familiar set of buildings. And you vividly remember this route. 

Up ahead, the Grandeur Loft comes into view. That’s right, this is why the route seems familiar to you. It’s where you had woken up that one morning after getting high, and also the address on that piece of paper you took from Jungkook. Your conversation with Mia about Suga comes to mind as well. You think you’re just passing by at first, until Namjoon drives towards the entrance.

“Wait, why are we here?” He doesn’t respond and you press him. “Namjoon, seriously, where are you taking me?”

“Calm down,” he finally says, “some things I can only talk about in the privacy of my apartment.” 

“Your apartment?”

He nods and drives through the loft security, nodding to the guard as they grant him access to the parking lot. Multiple scenarios go through your brain as you try to predict how this might go.

“You trust me right?” The engine goes off, leaving you to ponder in silence. He waits. You nod meekly. “Then come on.” 

The building has much tighter security than you remember. But then again, you were high the first time there. A pass is required just to activate the elevators, and inside, Namjoon presses the button to the 20th storey. A tiny screen at the bottom prompts for his fingerprint. Then a flashing green light signals its approval and the elevator starts moving. 

“I know you still have a lot of questions about that night. Most of which I couldn’t disclose to you back then. But now things have mostly settled, I have the answers to your questions.” He says, hands in his pockets. You look at his reflection on the doors in front of you. 

“That’s why I decided to come and see you today.” He continues. “I’m bringing you to meet someone.”

“Someone?”

A soft ding goes off as you reach the floor. It opens to a long hallway with only two apartments. He guides you to the one on the right. You walk in step with him. Namjoon extends his arm to stop you just before reaching the door. “You’ll want to talk to him. He’ll have the answers to your questions.”

“O-okay.”

“Whatever you learn in this room, stays in this room.” He says, “This is top secret information.”

You let out a heavy sigh, sickened by the thought of having to keep yet another secret and nauseated by the anticipation. 

He scans his biometrics against a scanner on the wall next to the door, and a green dot appears on the handle, the sound of the lock clicking. “You ready?” He asks. 

Your heart thumps in your chest. “Yeah.” 

You’re greeted by an empty apartment, similar to the one you woke up in that night. It’s clean and spacious, and feels untouched. Soft music plays in one of the rooms, though you don’t see any evidence of anyone living here. Is this how Namjoon lives?

You turn on your heel, to ask him, but he presses a finger to his lips. A second later, he’s calling out, “Kid! I’m back!” 

Somewhere round the back, you hear the music getting louder and footsteps making its way down the hall. A weird feeling washes over you.

“You don’t have to yell.”

Your heart does a somersault in your chest. You feel like you’re going to throw up and faint all at once. Your feet feel stuck to the ground, body frozen. The steps get closer and you hear it come to a halt, feeling the presence behind you. 

“I told you not to call me ki⎼” 

The voice fades away. Namjoon is smiling, encouraging you. You turn slowly, wondering if it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You’re probably just hearing things. 

But your eyes land on the man standing just metres away from you.

Jungkook

⎼

It’s like the air is sucked right out of you. Your voice goes missing and for a minute, all you can do is stand frozen to your spot, staring at him. His round shiny eyes stare right back at you, equally as surprised. 

You take one cautious step forward, as if he would disappear if you made any sudden moves. 

Then with a whisper of your name, a grin appears on his face and he’s running towards you. His strong arms sweep you off your feet, spinning you around, and your heart runs wild in your chest. When your feet land, his hands cup both sides of your cheek. “It’s you.” 

“It’s you.” You mirror him, planting your hands over his and wrapping around his fingers. Tears stream down your face, and his thumb catches them mid-way. “Jungkook. It’s really you.” 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you so much.” He’s quick to pull you into an embrace, and you bury your face into his shoulder. 

“I’ve missed you too.” You feel his tears seeping onto your clothed shoulder. When he finally lifts his head, you trace his face with your fingers. “I was so worried.” 

“I’m sorry.” He whispers, dropping into your arms again. “I’m so sorry for everything.” 

His eyes roam to the side of your face and the bandage on your head, gently grazing the light bruise on your cheek. A sharp pain stabs at his chest when he sees your wounds, feeling guilty for all of it. You grab his hand and hug it against your chest, shaking your head, “I'm fine.”

Excitement has blood rushing through your veins, hands shaking and knees almost giving way and you let out a chuckle at the absurdity of it all. You clench your fist, digging your nails into your palm to snap you out of whatever dream you might be having. 

But it’s all real. And Jungkook remains, glossy eyes bore into yours, nose turning red. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, “You’ve been good?”

Jungkook grins, “Better now that you’re here.” 

Your heart is on the verge of combusting out of exhilaration. Without warning, he moves in, crashing his lips to yours and your hands tug at the fabric of his shit into a fist. Rough at first, but you slowly ease into it, and soon your lips move in sync with his. Jungkook controls his ache for more, and pulls away to let you catch your breath. 

Your forehead rests against his, and when he tilts his head to look at you in the teasing way he does, you bury your face in his chest. He chuckles and you feel him land a kiss on the top of your head. 

Jungkook holds you tight, not wanting to let go. But you feel his arms loosen slightly as his attention is striped away from you and his eyes float over to where Namjoon stands, long forgotten. 

“Surprise!” Namjoon raises his palms in the air. 

It makes you laugh and you wipe away the dampness from your eyes as you pull away. Jungkook walks past you, going to give Namjoon his deserved hug. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I wanted to surprise you both.” He shrugs. 

Jungkook squeezes him, and Namjoon takes it only for a couple of seconds before pushing him away. As you watch them go on, the stuff Namjoon said earlier slowly creeps its way back to the forefront of your mind. 

Noticing your silence, Jungkook turns back to you, offering you a worried smile when he sees you ruminating over it. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“How? Why?” You continue to stand there confused.

Jungkook’s eyes widen momentarily, then his features ease back into a smile. He brings your hands to his face and kisses the back of your palms. 

“It’s a long story.” 

⎼

An orange glow blankets the city skyline as the sun sets. The top to bottom windows give you a perfect view, like something out of a movie. From behind, you feel Jungkook’s hands snaking around your waist and his face appears next to yours. His sweet voice rings in your ear as he tears you away from the window. “Let’s eat.”

You were pleasantly surprised that they had room service here when Namjoon brought it up. “Is this a hotel or an apartment?”

“Doubles as both.” He mentions, “Usually staff from out of town that come here for work utilise the apartments. High security level apartments like this one are only by special request.”

And you thought it was fancy enough from the outside. 

Jungkook fills your plate for you; mashed potatoes, steak, some truffle fries, eggs. And he would’ve kept going had you not stopped him. He only smiles when your hand tugs on his elbow and sets the plate in front of you. 

“What about me?” Namjoon hands his plate out. 

“You have hands, do it yourself.” Jungkook spits out, shoving his plate away and filling up his own. 

Namjoon shakes his head. “Rude.”

“Shut up. She’s injured.” Jungkook says, pointing to the mark on your head. 

Namjoon’s mouth parts open and he pulls his sleeve over his shoulder to reveal a healing wound. “I got shot, dickhead. Twice!” 

“It’s different.” Jungkook stuffs his mouth with food and Namjoon scoffs. 

You’ve missed this more than you thought. “I guess some things never change.” 

“Yeah, he is as annoying as ever.” Jungkook says with his mouth full. 

While Namjoon mocks him in a silly voice, you stare at the side profile of your boyfriend. He’s lost a bit of weight, hair a little bit shorter like he just had a trim, and his eyes are a little sunken from lack of sleep. The traces of healed cuts and bruises remain on his arms and face. Naturally, your fingers brush against them and he turns at your touch, leaning his cheek into your open palm.

Staring into his eyes, you feel a sudden change in your body and flashes of that night appear before your eyes. The scene of him running towards you and the sound of the gunshot in your ear, causes you to flinch. Jungkook makes a grab for your hand and squeezes it in his. 

Your breathing slowly goes back to normal. Realising that tears are starting to form again, you force a smile to shake it off. “I guess I’m not fully recovered yet…”

“Of course not.” Jungkook pulls you closer to him, eyes reflecting the worry in yours. “Do you know how scared I was…I thought I told you to go home. What happened?”

“We did. Mia and I. But Taeho was waiting for us at the apartment and they threatened to hurt Hana.” You explain. “I had no choice.” 

“He escaped from the warehouse raid,” Namjoon adds, “I guess he went straight to Kim and got his boys to go get you.”

Jungkook sighs. “That psycho. He almost killed you.” 

“Well he’s dead now.” Namjoon points out. “Don’t let him stay in your mind rent free. You both are lucky to be alive.”

“He shot at you didn’t he?” You ask Jungkook. “I heard the gunshot but I blacked out…I thought it had to be either you or me.”

“Luckily he was too delirious to aim properly otherwise it could’ve been fata⎼” Namjoon’s words disappear back into his throat when Jungkook shoots him a vicious scowl. 

“It hit you?” Your eyes roam his body, visibly distressed. You were right. He did get hurt. “Where?”

Reluctantly, Jungkook lifts his shirt, revealing the wound on his lower right abdomen. You let out a heavy exhale, brows knitted in the way it does when you get stressed. He releases his shirt before you spiral. “I’m getting better.” 

“Wait but Hoseok and Hana said you weren’t at the hospital that night. They asked around for you but there was nothing in the records.” You say, “Everyone thinks you got away…”

“They were looking for me?”

“Of course, everyone’s worried.” 

The corners of Jungkook’s lips raise slightly at the thought of it. He hadn’t considered that anyone other than you was looking for him. 

“We have our own care facility, so we brought him there.” Namjoon states, raising his eyebrows when you tilt your head in confusion. 

“Oh.” The wheels in your mind start turning. “Why?” 

“Because he got shot.” Namjoon’s face matches yours in confusion at your question. 

“Why not the hospital like everyone else?” 

It doesn’t show, but Namjoon is amazed at your ability to sniff out the little details. Of course you’d wonder why he was brought elsewhere to be treated. You were never someone who would let things be. He should know this by now. 

“Is it because he’s in police custody now?” 

Namjoon’s eyes momentarily shift to Jungkook sitting across from him. “He is, technically. Just not in the way you’re thinking of.” 

“I’m still under supervision.” Jungkook adds.

“I don’t get it.” You sigh, setting your utensils down. There’s clearly something they’re not telling you. “Are you in trouble or not? And why are you keeping him here?” 

“Because I couldn’t have done it without Jungkook. He saved my life in that alley.” 

You nod your head slowly, “So because of that, they’re giving him leniency?”

Jungkook focuses on the table, sporting a tiny smile. Namjoon’s eager to elaborate once again, “Remember what I said in the car? About my informant?”

You blink. Perhaps your mind just refuses to believe it till you hear it. 

“Jungkook’s my informant.” 

.

.

.

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[stuck1nthelimbo]

im so normal about them — 📌 post | masterlist | ko-fi

3 》(Outdoor sex) - Petplay - Degradation ― A Man of His Words [Fushiguro Toji x f!reader]

TAGS!!! 2.4k, spanking, manhandling, ⚠️ tw: mildly dubious consent ⚠️, facefucking/slapping, fingering, dragged by hair, physically/verbal degradation, slight masturbation, teasing, spitting (once), unprotected sex, creampie

couldn't help thinking about the aftermath of 2nd prompt and furious toji, hehe, thinking about pissed toji; this man is a perfect specimen for rough fics

“If you’re not in my living room by 12 tomorrow, I’ll make sure the rest of the neighborhood hears you sob.” I hold up my fist in front of him, poking the smallest finger out with as much innocence as I can muster, “Promise, Mr. Fushiguro?”

The exhilarating shock races through me as I watch the hour and minute hands of the clock strike the number 12. Oh, he must be furious, fuming, knowing damn well I’m a no-show. Lounging in the living room, the empty house feels massive. I strut in my pajama shorts and a plain shirt when the deadened thud echoes in the hallway. I sneak to the front door.

“Who is it?” I conceal the laughter.

“Open the door,” Toji’s chilling presence bleeds through the cracks, the peephole and ticklish excitement swirls in my stomach. I playfully repeat the question. This time, a sharp bang replaces the dull thud, “open the door, brat,” even his muffled voice makes me roll my eyes in amusement.

“Oh, I don’t open the door for strange men,” before I appreciate my snarky humor, the sudden crackling of the door sends chills through my core. The handle turns down and the front door swings with a creak, revealing the male standing tall behind it.

“Do other strange men have your keys too?” the monotonous voice rings in my ears as he dangles the ring of keys for me to notice. I step back, the fear melts away the excitement. Did he copy them?

The large palm seizes the back of my neck which snaps me out of my thoughts. The grip is rock solid while he drags me to the living room and unable to see what’s under my feet, I stumble and fall. The grasp on my nape doesn’t falter, instead, I’m face-flat on the wooden floor, and it pins me on the spot. I lay there, motionless, face down, ass up in the air.

There’s no time for me to whine, or complain, his free hand swats my ass and I bite my lip, the pain radiates in my legs. The sting hasn’t subsided when another smack lands on my buttocks.

“You ain’t yappin’ like yesterday,” he mocks me from above, as he continues spanking my ass with his bare hand. Somewhat pleasurable pain becomes unbearable soon enough and with low, quiet sobs, I attempt to lurch forward, but my body doesn’t budge. It feels like I’m bound to the place with shackles. The clasp on my neck becomes tighter and firmer, “I warned ya.”

After a while, my ass cheeks burn, heat up from the repeated impact and suddenly he ceases movement. Instead, Toji yanks the shorts off me, down to my knees, and without a peep, digs index and middle fingers inside my dripping cunt. I gasp and to our surprise, a squelching resounds in the room.

“Damn, you’re soakin’,” his fingers stick further, down to his knuckles, lazily twisting inside; Those digits are thick but not enough; I wiggle ass, backing myself up on his hand until his fingers abruptly empty my cunt and an open palm swats my asscheek with wicked strength, “stop actin’ like a bitch in a heat,” he hisses in my ear.

“Tojiii~” I whine, squirming to get out of his secure grip, to which his hand creeps from my nape to my hair, and with a scathing clutch, he props me up on my knees; then, he positions himself in front of me, and hurriedly unties the ribbons of sweatpants with one hand, the other still twined thought my hair at the crown of my head. My mouth salivates in anticipation.

“Look at yourself, drooling from both ends,” he chortles, baring his teeth, canines glint with malice, “how pathetic~” he loosens the ribbons, jerking the waistband down and exposing himself. The thirst doubles as my eyes study his manhood: the girth, length, the veins spread from the base to the ruddy bulbous tip. I even catch a glimpse of a neatly trimmed happy trail.

I wait, hands placed on my thighs, doe-eyes staring up at him with patience as his hand pumps his cock centimeters away from my face; Clear, viscous fluid coats his index finger and thumb, and his eyes bounce from himself to me.

“Tongue out, doll,” I hang my tongue out as far as I can and his fingers smear the pre-cum on it, “keep it open,” he cleans his hand on me, before wrapping it around his length and pressing the leaking tip back on my tongue. The bitterness spreads inside my mouth while he jerks himself off between my lips, only the head of his cock brushing against my tongue; His quiet pants turn into grunts and occasional ‘that’s it’ and ‘fuck yes’.

Soon after, I’m struggling and gasping for air as both of his hands have my hair twirled in a ponytail and he mercilessly fucks my face. The hefty girth jabs against the back of my throat, on the verge of unhinging my jaw; The copious amount of spit drips off my lips, onto my chest and lap; My fingers scrape the skin on my thighs when his hips jitter and I gag and heave at the taste of viscid cum pouring down my throat. My eyes water, meanwhile he basks in the shuddering orgasm with half-lidded eyes and agape lips.

“That’s it, baby,” the husky voice rumbles deep in his throat; He pries my mouth off his softening cock, “If you let even one droplet go to waste, I’ll–” Toji threatens, but it’s too late: creamy droplets, mixed with the excess saliva and salty tears fall off my chin and splatter on the floor. I swallow the rest, but the apology for wasting his seed lodges in my throat as his open hand lands a hard smack across my face. The hand clutching my hair eases and relocates under my jaw, bringing my face up to slap the same cheek again. And then again. I squeeze my eyes shut, stifling sobs until I hear him when he lets my face go.

“How are you gonna make up for bein’ so ditzy?” his voice has tones of irony alongside reassurance. However, his hands abandon me; Toji fixes his sweatpants, strolls to the sofa, and slumps in the middle, one arm thrown behind the back of it. I’m on all fours, a complete mess, staring up at him with lust and willingness to act on any of his whims. His hand, resting on his thigh, points at the coffee table in front of him, “Sit.”

I crawl on top and sit with my legs pressed together, palms clutching my knees. One of his eyebrows raises in obvious bewilderment. His lip twitches.

“Touch yourself,” he demands, his green eyes piercing through almost visible tension. I comply, but with a great deal of embarrassment: shifting back on the coffee table, the legs spread, heels of my feet stick to the glass edges when I lean back, supporting upper body weight with one hand, while the other hesitantly slides over my pussy, middle finger lazily circling the aching clit, “shameless slut,” his voice echoes and I can't help, but let out a pitiful whimper, quietly begging him to come and destroy what's left of my sanity.

While I’m trying to relieve myself of the unbearable itch, Toji sits motionless, his eyes glued to my twitchy cunt; I notice each time a low moan slips through my lips, his fabric-straining erection jerks under the cotton sweatpants.

“What’s on your mind, sweetie?” he coos and the only response I can muster is to purse my lips, and mewl louder, “I don’t understand, doll, try to think and use your words,” he leans forward, stretches out his hand and his thumb rolls my swollen clit. My thoughts dissipate and my brain becomes foggier, but I still catch a glimpse when he reaches into his pants with the other hand, stroking himself.

“Fuck,” I spit when his thumb slips on the bud of nerves and digs inside me. He’s so proud of himself as he scoffs followed by a shit-eating grin, until I level my eyes with his, “I want you to fuck me like a man,” I must’ve struck some nerve.

His stance changes instantly, the hand he used to pump his length snaps on my head, coils my hair around it, and yanks me off the coffee table. I stumble on my feet, the roots of my hair sting. His exasperated eyes prowl the surroundings and after a second, drags me alongside himself. I’m uncertain which direction he took me until I hear the patio door swing and hit the rails with a heavy crump. My eyes widen in pain as my bruised ass makes contact with the patio swing; A large palm grabs my throat: my vision blurs, and I feel lightheaded whilst his hot breath spills over my face.

“Remember what I said about the entire neighborhood hearing you?” the grip around my throat gets tighter and it fixes my head in place, while he slaps my cheek several times, until my eyes water and I squirm to get away, “remember how you ran this mouth?” his hands hoist under my knees, simultaneously pushing my legs apart and upward, setting my knees against my shoulders, disgracefully exposing my sopping cunt. He steps closer to the swing and his clothed erection harshly rubs between my pussy lips. I get a dizzy spell. My cunt spasms around nothingness and I whine, shooting my miserable gaze up at Toji, wiggling my toes.

“Stop teasing,” I sob, clapping my open palms over his underneath my knees, digging nails into his knuckles.

“Dumb, little slut wants to be used, doesn’t she?” he croons, “you want to let everyone hear you’re my fleshlight?” cocking his head to the side and feasting upon the tender flesh of my neck. His teeth nearly break the skin, and his lips hungrily suck under my ear, making me gasp each time I feel his steamy breath ruffle the tiny hairs on my neck, “pull my pants down,” he wheezes.

I frantically reach, tug on the waistband and yank his sweatpants down as far as my fingertips reach: his cock springs out happy, previously invisible veins now well-defined and outlined; The ruddy bulbous tip slips between my pussy lips again, the underside of it coats with the clear slick. After several lazy rubs, his cock hooks at the entrance, just merely pushing at the opening. I can’t budge.

“Toji, please,” I’m on the edge, my entire attention focused on his girth. He brings his head back up, lascivious eyes studying me.

“Toys don’t talk,” his cock nudges the entrance again; I gnaw on my bottom lip with patience thin as a spider web.

“You’re so fuc–,” I start cussing him out with desperation, and he must’ve gotten sick of me; As soon as our eyes meet, I only catch a glimpse of his wicked grin: with one swift movement, he bucks his hips and bottoms out inside my cunt. My jaw hangs open, words wedge in my throat, and no sound escapes while my eyes roll back into my skull. My gummy walls have been spasming around emptiness until now when it’s being stretched out to its limit around Toji’s fat cock. He grinds against me, scraping away the remaining shards of my tattered sanity. My toes curl as he drags himself out just to hastily thrust back in and grind his groin on my clit, stilling himself inside. I lean my head back on the backrest of the patio swing and bask in the pain swirling with pleasure. His thickness moulds my fluttering walls.

“Look at you, so dumb,” he draws my attention back to the area where we’re connected with an aggressive shove, his cock bullying my cervix, “so needy and shameless,” low grunts substitute his throaty voice with each thrust, “so fuckin’ good for me,” his fingers bruise the tender skin under and around my knees, “so wet, everyone can hear it,” my mushy brain finally registers the squishy sounds echoing below me, “you’re gonna be my favorite fuck toy.”

“Harder, Toji,” I mewl, my brows furrow, and incoherent words spill out whilst Toji quickens the pace, pounding his thick length with such vigor and hostility, his teeth grit; He tips forward, and glares at my puckering lips before him and without stopping or slowing down, he whispers, agitated.

“Open your mouth,” I splay my tongue out and without hesitation, he spits on it; I’m eager to swallow, I can taste the hints of tobacco and some alcoholic drink; His glazed eyes stare down and his lips lock with mine, pulling me into a forcefully, yet passionate kiss.

Momentarily my overstimulated brain loses all focus whatsoever and I start feverishly moaning into his mouth, sobbing as my cunt nears the release I’ve dreamed of since this man stepped foot inside my house. The coil that has been whirling in the pit of my stomach unravels and makes a mess out of me. My legs tremble as wrecking waves of mind-bending pleasure crash against each and every cell of my being. My heartbeat skyrockets and little hairs all over my body stand tall. My cunt clamps on Toji’s cock, in an attempt to milk him, who hasn’t fathomed the idea to slow down, instead, proudly fucks me through the orgasm and sucks on my tongue; At the base of his manhood, a ring of creamy slick pools.

“Toji, Toji,” I beg, breaking the kiss, threads of spit dangling between our swollen lips, still delirious from the orgasm, that tingles my stomach; My fingers reach and tug strands of his hair, fixing my watery doe eyes on his, “please, come inside me,” his half-lidded glossy eyes snap open, “please, fill me up.”

His hips violently jerk, his feet almost slipping on the dewy grass underneath him and I know he’s done. He hisses, groans, and a low moan rumbles from his throat as his groin plasters on my pussy, pulsating cock coating my fluttering walls with hot semen. With the remaining strength in his body, he slows down, fucking his cum deeper in, before finally pulling out and stumbling backward, letting my legs drop.

I lifelessly relax on the patio swing, my eyes gawking at the clear sky above. What a nice weather. Toji staggers to the house, his hand rests on the door handle before he glances over his shoulder, noticing not only my abused and used body but the flabbergasted neighbor on their balcony.

“You’ll be the end of me,” he coughs, regaining steady breathing and heartbeat.

© stuck1nthelimbo; do not redistribute, repost, modify, or use in any way, form, and/or shape. re-translation by asking for permission first.

[priafey]

all the lines // tag game

Tagged by @ladytanithia. Thank you!!

Clean list of prompts can he found here

// A line from your fic that makes you laugh //

Gwilin thanked the courier profusely for handing him the letter. The cold, wet mud on the ground slushed under his feet as he ran towards the inn, and burst through the front door.

"Good news!" he proclaimed. Wilhelm's eyes immediately darted to his muddy feet.

"You're going to take off those boots so they don't track mud all over my floors?"

// A line from your fic that makes you sad //

[Fari talks with Gwilin about how casual cruelty can be.]

"You know, you're right. I've never looked at it that way." She stopped playing with his hair and rested her hands at the very top of her abdomen, where she tapped her pensive fingertips on her wrist.

"That reminds me of something that happened back home, though. On a day I went to the merchant's square with my father. I spotted a man there, sitting on a tarp in the back corner of the market, trying to sell some old, worn-out rope. He was missing a leg, his clothes were all tattered. I pitied him. He looked so broken and alone. But my baba, he took my hand and moved me away, like he was trying to protect me from him. He told me the rope the man was trying to sell was stolen from the ships at the docks, and so we had to tell the guards."

"I watched them arrest him. I watched them take him away while my father bought a silver brooch for my mother the next stand over, like nothing was happening. Nobody else in the square even looked at him while they dragged him off. It was like he was invisible."

// A line from your fic you're proud of //

[This is Gwilin talking about the cultural ramifications of the socioeconomic division of labor.]

"Here in Ivarstead, all I've had is time to think. Why are the cities rich? Isn't it because my family grew the barley, and the soldiers brought it to the brewers, and the brewers made the beer? There was a time when I supposed that the people in the cities must wonder about people like me, too. But then I thought: 'No. How could they?' All the books I read were written by them, and they were all about themselves."

// A line for your fic you think could have been better //

[Gosh. Just one? I'd rewrite the whole first chapter. Rewrite like three whole paragraphs from chapter 29. Here's one of my clunkier paragraphs from chapter 12. It includes a weird line about Gwilin's nipples that I'm super emotionally attached to. I just can't let go of it, even though I know I should probably scrap the whole paragraph and start over ;-;]

Lynly began to chat with Wilhelm near the counter while Fari went to join Gwilin at the hearth. A shiver he'd felt from the warmth of the fire at his back stiffened his nipples, and he folded his arms as she settled near him, in hopes of hiding them. He thought Fari looked wonderful even on a bad day, but as he sat there with his arms crossed awkwardly, watching the way the flames flickered against those pieces of pure hand-cut amber nestled deep within her sun-kissed skin, he thought his heart might never again find its rhythm. They looked back at him with a muted passion that made him feel he wasn’t crazy in thinking she felt a special way when she looked at him, too.

// A line from your fic that makes you want to punch a character //

[Pretty much any line said by Beifar. He's a two-dimensional character all the way, no doubt about it. Just there to be mean and be hated by others LOL. That being said, this line he says to Fari when he gets tired of helping the captain steer the ship they're on is one of my favorites in the whole story.]

"I've been out there for hours helping Captain Charlatan with the steering. You," he pointed at Fari, "Go out there and take over."

[And, of course, Winthir's impudence is legendary.]

“Could either of you tell me what happened at the spring?”

“What, she didn’t tell you?” he snapped.

“I tried to get it out of her before you got here,” said Nindalion, staring her down, “But she refuses to tell me. Are you going to talk now, Winthir?” She looked at Gwilin’s face and arms, noting the cuts and bruises, maintained a sheepish face, and said nothing.

“I can hear it all from your brother, or you can tell me yourself.”

“Gwilin’s in love with an Imperial girl,” she drawled calmly, locking eyes with her father. She shot a tiny, treacherous smirk at Gwilin from across the table.

// A line from your fic that makes you go 'aww' //

She tilted her head curiously at those sad eyes he put on. As a bird would.

"Do you know what I said to Temba right before she left?" Gwilin asked. Fari shook her head.

"I told her I left home, left Kvatch, because it wasn't the place I knew anymore. So I set out to find a new home." And tears came to his eyes as he nestled his hand at her cheek.

"But I think my new home found me, instead."

// A line from your fic that's full of symbolism //

[This whole chapter is drenched in symbolism, most of it meant to reflect the kind of relationship Fari has with her parents.]

The girl crossed her arms, put on a pout, and walked over to the workbench, where she began impatiently toying with the tiny leather-working tools laying there. Isaf felt anger taking root in her then, but she knew better than to try to push that girl into something she didn't want to do. 'Rain falls, rivers run, minds follow', she remembered her own mother telling her, long ago. Back when they still spoke.

“What about a deal?" she suggested. She turned to stand at her daughter's back, and put both hands over her shoulders. "You said you don’t want to practice again tomorrow, right?”

Fari nodded.

“Alright, so… what if you keep going to training until you feel like you don’t want to practice your swordsmanship ever again? If that day comes, you say to me: ‘Mama, I don’t want to practice my swordsmanship ever again’, and that’ll be the end of it.”

Fari put down the tools, as though she knew Isaf would've eventually taken them from her, anyway.

“You promise?"

“I promise.”

// A line from your fic that contains an Easter egg //

[Hm. I don't think I have any.]

// A line from your fic that's shocking //

[The descriptions of Narfi's mangled body from chapter 15 get to me. I actually shortened them in the story because the original ones were a little too visceral, and distracted from Temba's emotions, which I was trying to center the scene around. But this line from Gwilin facing his father's death in chapter 23 is shocking in a gentle, more spiritual way.]

There he laid, in that most infamous sleep, with his head entrenched in the pillow and a hand on his abdomen. The day's last ray of light shone on this hand, and invited Gwilin to come closer, so he could feel the bitter truth against his skin. He neared the bed, dazed, and took hold of Nindalion. The cold in his fingers shocked him at first, but his grip held steadfast as he knelt to place his forehead on the edge of the bed.

// A line from your fic you want to talk about more //

[I love, love, love the relationship dynamic Gwilin has with his siblings. I've mentioned this on other posts, but the way siblings relate to each other when there's like ten or more in a single family is super fascinating to me. Most of my thinking on this is based on stuff my grandparents told me about having tons of siblings themselves. I am especially interested in what happens when the matriarch/patriarch of a family dies–which of them come together, come back home, what things they have to put in order, how things are split up between them, the fights that result from inheritance stuff, etc. Makes for sort of funny lines like these, where Gwilin's brother is talking with him about who's gonna take over the family farm.]

"Listen. I only mention it because Eowyn, Mari, Thonil, Gwinwyn, Aralion, Malstar, Renilron, and Beluin don't live at the farm anymore, Suri is bound to move away soon, and, I love Winthir, but she couldn't run the farm if her life depended on it. If anything should happen to dad, either you or I would have to take charge."

[Imagine having so many siblings born 15-25 years apart. You could straight-up forget some of their names. LOL]

[mute-call]

"It's fine! I just didn't expect to see anything on the cameras so early, y'know?"

Michael's rare boldness pays off; it helps Steven a lot to hear the other man say aloud that this is something he wants to do, as opposed to something he feels he has to do, or something he's coming to regret now that he's back in these dark, dangerous halls.

So Mike's staying. Steven's smile softens warmly, and he hides how happy he is behind a long sip of his coffee.

"Come on, don't say that." He gives a dismissive, half-teasing wave with his free hand. "What's not to like about you? I know they'd calm down if they realized you're you. They'd be thrilled, even!" So thrilled that they'd break out into one of those dumb, repetitive songs of theirs right on the spot.

Bell laughs, but it quickly fades when Michael mentions the rabbit.

"Bonnie... yeah. Last time I took night shift, he was really active. Almost ran down the power just standing at the door. I guess we'll just have to hope he tires himself out early on, huh?" Extremely wishful thinking. Steven lightly raps at the side of his head when Mike says "knock on wood" just in case, though, and to complete the habitual joke he learned from his mother.

"Oh, no, you're not-- you're not going to spend six hours on the floor, are you? You're making me feel like a real jerk, here." His tone is neutral and light, but there's a hint of truth to his words; he feels selfish enough having Michael stay for his shift, and now the guy's getting settled in on the cold, hard ground like he belongs there?

"I don't need the chair." Steven stands to prove it. "It'll be good to stretch my legs some." Even though he had been on his feet for most of his day shift. "And this makes it easier to hit the door buttons, anyway." That's not exactly true, but if all goes well, he won't need to use them much regardless.

"C'mon, up you get." Setting down his cup, Steven bends to offer Michael his hand.

...just as the clock chimes 12:00am.

"L-Looks like we made the right call, having you stick around. Just give me a sec to do an initial camera sweep and I'll be right with you." There's no need to narrate his actions-- Mike knows full well what this shift entails-- but talking himself through it is a familiar force of habit. In fact, this is almost like making his training tapes, except this time, the conversation isn't entirely one-sided. How about that.

Michael's shoulders slump as he notices how badly he'd scared the other guard. "Sorry, I... Should've called ahead or something. As you can probably tell, this wasn't exactly ... very thought out." In all fairness, it wasn't like he had Steven's number or anything, either. He just felt bad for spooking the guy.

Leaning up against the doorframe, he gave the man a small smile. "Sure I didn't. But I wanted to." A bolder statement than he'd usually make, but he wanted to reassure Steven.

Watching the man with perpetually tired eyes half-lidded as he savored the warmth of his coffee cup, he felt himself relax slightly. So he didn't completely fuck this whole thing up — that was good to know. The trip wasn't entirely wasted. "It — it really wasn't that big of a deal, man, but you're welcome."

Sure, he was contradicting himself – and the facts of the matter, if you thought about it, considering where they worked – but... Listen. Point number one: he was a little bit stupid. Besides that, he just... He was having a Time at the moment, okay? He just wanted to do something nice. Steven was his friend, the first friend he'd had in a really long time, and he was trying to show the other guy that he cared, but... Thing is. He's Michael Afton. He has had little to no proper socialization since middle school. He doesn't know how to interact with people. At all. And he's absolutely terrified of Steven thinking he's being weird or something.

"Yeah, yeah, 'course I am. Wouldn't'a made the offer if I wasn't." Michael wasn't usually the type to bullshit someone, especially not Steven, one of the few people he could actually talk about things with.

Still, if the guy wanted him to leave, he'd leave. Steven didn't seem like he was done, though — Michael waited to see what he'd say, taking a quick sip of his own coffee while he watched the gears turn in the other man's head.

Steven's justifications earn a chuckle from him — albeit a soft one, conscious of the other presences in the building. "You're probably right about that. Y'know, I get the feeling our, uh, fuzzy friends don't particularly like me." He knows they don't, actually. Well — it's not that they don't like him. It's that they don't like the man he's a complete spitting image of. "Think I saw Bonnie staring at me on the way in."

Finally fully entering the small office, he lifted his messenger bag from his shoulder and dropped it on the floor in front of the lockers in the back, kicking a few pieces of clutter around on the floor until he'd cleared a semi-comfortable spot for himself against the wall behind the left door. Back to the wall, he slid down, somehow managing not to spill a single drop of his coffee as he got all settled in, resting his forearms on his knees to look up at Steven.

"'Least nobody's being, uh, weird yet. Knock on wood, maybe they'll be nice to us tonight." Yeah, right. As if they ever are."

[daydreaming-in-letters]

Too long

12/28/2021

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x fem!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 996

Warnings: Geralt thinking about pleasuring his woman with his skilful fingers

Summary: Geralt finally made it home to Kaer Morhen, yet his heart refuses to feel whole again.

A/N: Nature has been an icy wonderland these past few days, so I simply had to honour that beauty with a short imagine.

Picture by Aaron Burden via Unsplash

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

Home.

He felt his shoulders relax as he let his gaze drift across the familiar surroundings far beyond his feet. He never truly knew how much he had missed Kaer Morhen until he was back, standing in this very spot, the crisp winter air nipping at his pale skin while he looked down at the forest Ciri and him had crossed through only yesterday. His attentive eyes had just found the thin line of smoke that rose between the tree tops, a familiar pull taking hold of his heart, when he heard footsteps behind himself.

“Go.”

Of course Vesemir knew what was on his mind. He almost always did.

“Ciri is safe here with us.”

But Geralt still hesitated. Not because he didn’t trust his mentor to keep Ciri from harm—he had no doubt Vesemir would give his life to protect hers—but because he wasn’t sure if he would be welcome.

“I don’t know. It’s been too long.”

“And still you are here, looking for any sign of life in that icy forest.”

The truth in Vesemir’s words coaxed a heavy sigh from Geralt’s chest. “No, not for any sign.”

A moment of silence, fraught with meaning, passed between them and when Geralt finally tore his eyes away from the place his heart yearned to be, he found the older man by his side.

“Go, Wolf. You’ve both waited long enough.”

Not even half an hour later, he passed the first trees. They were white as fresh snow, covered in the small crystals so thoroughly that they seemed to be entirely made out of ice themselves. Thick clouds of hot air rose from Roach’s nostrils and swirled around him as he rode on. It was quiet, and although the sun was shining brightly through the branches and broke on the ice covered forest floor with the sparkle of a million jewels, he could hardly hear any birds.

Not long now, his heart whispered as he ventured further into the beauty that surrounded him. Frozen leaves crunched promisingly underneath Roach’s hooves with every step she brought him closer to his destination. Her legs had just passed by a spider’s web that seemed to have been woven into the delicate ferns from threads of pure ice, when he recognised the spot from yesterday.

It had been right here that he had thought he might have sensed her presence. Back then, he had brushed it off as a mere illusion, nothing but his memory fraternising with his yearning to play a cruel trick on him. But now he could smell her familiar scent in the otherwise clear air as rich and pure as if he had buried his face in the crook of her neck and inhaled it directly from the source.

In an instant, her image danced through his mind and he gave himself permission to imagine how he would find her. Would she be in her cozy little hut, going about her daily chores? Probably not, he realised. Not on a day like this. She would be roaming the forest to adore the pristine beauty of ice and snow. She had always loved doing that.

Most likely, there was some water boiling over the fire to warm her chilled bones in a bath after her return. For a moment, the faint hope that she would ask him to join her flickered through his heart. Oh, how he longed to let the soapy strands of her hair run through his fingers like precious silk while her soft, wet body rested against his own. The memory had kept him warm in more than one of the many nights he had spent on the chilly forest floor.

He needed to feel her, hear her even breathing and steady heartbeat in the silence of the moment, both speeding up when his fingers would sink in between her legs. He couldn’t wait to listen to the melody of her strained moans, slowly mixing with sweet pleas for more that grew more and more desperate with every stroke of his fingers until she would stop abruptly to burst into a violent quiver in his arms.

He had missed her, more than he would ever admit to himself, and how alive she made him feel. How he felt his heart swell and calm alike every second he spent by her side.

He would ask her once again to come with him and maybe this time she wouldn’t turn him down. After all, she wouldn’t be the only woman at Kaer Morhen now, he thought, and a small smile began to dance across his lips.

But in a second it fell away, the muscles in his body tensing as he bid Roach to stop. He had to close his eyes as another cloud of her fragrance invaded his nostrils, thicker and richer than before, making his insides clench with a reawakening hunger for her company. And then he finally heard her—the unmistakeable noise of her sure stride, a soft hum on her lips and the beloved beating of her strong heart.

At once, his eyes flew open and when they found her, he faintly noticed his breath hitching in his throat. She was even more beautiful than he remembered, the allure of the frozen forest fading against the magic her sight held and when her eyes at last met his for the first time in an eternity, his slow witcher heart forgot how to beat.

For a heart-wrenching second he thought his deepest fears might come true when her body froze in place, refusing to come any closer. But then her eyes suddenly lit up with an irrepressible might, pure joy turning her lips upwards in a dazzling smile. Only a second later, his sensitive hearing picked up the faint whisper of her tearful voice that traveled towards him on a light breeze. Only one word fell from her trembling lips, but it was all he needed to feel whole again.

“Geralt.”

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[primofate]

Breaking up Part 2 Albedo x gn!reader

Sorry it took so long! Haha. Yeah tumblr effed over for me. But here it is! :D

Scenario: Breaking up and getting back together again

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst? NOT PROOFREAD

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read:  (Part 1) (Part 3 - Final)

“Sucrose... Do you know where Y/N went?”

5 days 3 hours and 12 minutes. He’d been counting. He’d been counting since you left. It was only today that he had the courage to ask Sucrose about it. 

Sucrose jumps at the sudden call of her name. 

Albedo had not been the same. The frequent mistakes in the lab proved it. The constant slips of the hand and test tubes shattering on the floor told Sucrose that perhaps that was how his heart looked like too.

“...No, I don’t,” Sucrose simply says, then lets the silence of the lab fill the air. Only the bubbles from their experiments hanging. It was still for a moment, Sucrose going back to her calculations and research. Albedo sat in front of his alchemy set, blankly staring at it.

He doesn’t even understand what being “tired” feels like anymore. He hasn’t had a decent sleep. Every small movement in the house, every whisper of the wind he would bolt up in bed, thinking it was you coming in from the front door. Sometimes he would hear someone shuffling, he would stop and listen for you, but then realizes that the sound was the sound of his legs under the covers, trying to keep warm without you around. 

Sucrose glances up at her mentor. He’s buried his face in his hands, his hair in slight disarray. She knew what was going to happen next. He was going to stand up and just walk away from the lab, and Sucrose was not going to see him until tomorrow again. 

Tomorrow, the cycle would repeat. 

Albedo couldn’t function. It was pathetic. He really thought that he must be such a sight right now, eyes heavy with exhaustion, hair down and clothes a little unruly. He ran away from the lab again. He abandoned his “important” experiment and went back home, retreating in his room, falling on his knees and slumping on the bed in front of him.

He buried his face into his arms and tried to piece his heart back together.

“Albedo, will you ever get tired of me?”

There was a soft hint of a frown on your face. Silly you, Albedo thought. Always worried about being apart from him. He only smiles and cups your chin in his hand, leans in close to press his forehead against yours to whisper, “Never,” 

His fists clutch at the bedsheets, the fabric scrunching up under his hands. Every.damn.time. he tried to take a break, he would be reminded of you. Every thing reminded him of you. Breathing reminded him of you. It was as if you were right beside him and yet you weren’t. 

It was him. He was supposed to be the one asking ��Y/N, will you ever get tired of me?” He was supposed to be the one worried. But he hadn’t been because he had taken you for granted. He thought that you’d always just be there, waiting for him patiently as you always had but now that he was alone, he realized just how lonely this silence could be.

“You must have been lonely...waiting here for me in this silence...”

His voice was muffled by the sheets, and he didn’t know who he was talking to. He did that a lot these days. Saying things that he wished you could still hear. 

The next day, just as Sucrose predicted. It was the same. Halfway through his experiment Albedo stopped, and stared at nothing in particular. She wondered if, whenever he did that, he remembered the things he said to you that day. 

But, just as Sucrose thinks today would end up the same...

it didn’t.

“Big brother Albedo!” Klee stormed into the lab, the door slamming open really loud. “Oh...I’m sorry, I didn’t check the sign... I...” Klee stepped out to look at the door sign and found “KEEP OUT” still there. “Oh no...! I did a mistake! Sorry big brother,” the little girl fumbled with her fingers and swung from side to side to show her apology. 

A hint of a smile appears on Albedo’s face and Sucrose was thunderstruck. There had been no expression on the Kreideprinz’s face for the longest time that the smile had felt so foreign. “It’s alright, Klee. Do you need help with something?” and his voice wasn’t hoarse. If there was anything that could cheer him up, it would be Klee.

He was done prioritizing his research over the people that really mattered. 

“Look what I got! I’ve never seen such a pretty flower in Mondstadt before,” Klee showed off the blue flower to Albedo, eyes shining and wide. Albedo touched the petals as Klee held it up for him. “Ah, yes, Glaze Lilies. You can only find them in Liyue, Klee,” Albedo explains. Klee bounces excitedly.

“Ohhhh! That’s amazing! Y/N must have travelled there recently!” 

The silence in the lab was deafening. Albedo’s hand drops from the flower as he looks at Klee, confused. Sucrose had stopped what she was doing, wide-eyed, staring at the young bomber. “...What do you mean, Klee?” Albedo whispered out. 

Hearing your name said by someone else made it all the more real that you weren’t here with him anymore. 

“Oh! See, Klee was in Windrise and... I was looking at the fishes...” Klee gasped a little, “Please don’t tell Master Jean!” she whispered pointedly but continued. “I saw Y/N there, and Y/N gave me a really big hug and gave me this Guh lays Lily,” the young girl got the name wrong, but Albedo hadn’t been listening anymore. He stood up and crouched down to eye level with Klee, hands on her shoulders.  “W-When, Klee?” he clears his throat and tries again, “When did this happen?” Sucrose had also been listening and watching in bated breath.  Klee gave one of her biggest, most innocent smiles, not knowing how crucial this information had been to Albedo. “Just now! I just came back from Windrise!” 

Albedo didn’t feel the slightest sorry that he bolted out of the lab without explaining to Klee. She would understand and Surcrose was there. He sprinted towards the gates of Mondstadt like his life depended on it. In some senses, it really did.

I can make it.

He was panting hard. His footsteps thundering in his ears. His breath coming in quick ins and outs. His heart is about to fly off its cage.

I can make it. It’s just outside of Mondstadt. 

Wind rushes past him, the pigeons on the bridge outside of Mondstadt, disturbed, flying away in a frenzy. Timmie shouting after him. 

Please be there. Please.

It takes him longer than he wanted. He wanted to be faster, wanted to be there already but he was still running. Still chasing after that hope. The adrenaline he feels pumps in his veins and yet he is so out of breath that he needs to stop. His hands resting on his knees as he closes his eyes and tries to get his breathing even. 

I have to keep going.

His legs were killing him. They were strained by the sudden rush of exercise and yet he still drags both towards Windrise. He could see the large tree at the horizon, but he was too far away to see if you were there. He continues to pant, steadying his breath, preparing for another burst of energy to run towards where he so desperately hoped you were.  What if you weren’t there anymore?

What if he was too late?

What if he never saw you again?

“What if it doesn’t work...?” Albedo asks, pondering over the research and discussing it with you over dinner. He loved to talk about his experiments with you because you gave valuable insights on it, and really listened to him. You smile and give him the confidence that he needs, “Then you can try again, Bedo. You always find a way!”

He’s still panting by the time he reaches the steps leading up to the large tree. His eyes dart around. He circles around in place, wondering if you were around the area. He continues forward, stepping up to the big roots and yet again looked around, trying to spot your familiar tuft of hair/colour. 

At the corner of his eye he spots something, behind the big tree. A Crystalfly. It was flying away and his eyes automatically follow it. There was a hand trying to reach out for it, but it barely grazed the Crystalfly’s wings. You stepped out from behind the tree, a little annoyed that you couldn’t catch the Crystalfly. 

Albedo feels like he’s frozen in time. He stands there and watches the wind caress your hair. Watches as you tuck your hair back behind your ear. Watches as you turn around and start walking away. He snaps back to reality and moves forward, roots and sticks cracking under his feet as he struggles through the root laden path just to get near you. 

You, hearing the disturbance from behind, turn around and was met face to face with the lover you left a few days ago. Something shatters inside you. You weren’t ready for this. You were far from ready to see him again. Why was he out here in the middle of the day? You stood still just as he did in front of you. 

You notice how his hair is sticking to his face with sweat. The fast rise and fall of his chest. The pained look in his eyes. The closed up fists on his side. “Y/N--” his voice cracks and tears start to pool in your eyes. 

You aren’t strong enough for this and you start to turn away.

Albedo rushes forward to trap you in a hug. His arms so desperately wrapped around you as his head rests on your shoulder. “Don’t,” he pleads. “Please don’t go. Come back with me, please,” there’s a different type of hopelessness in his voice. A moment later tears are streaming down your face. 

“I-I can’t Albedo. I--” can’t put myself through that again. I can’t and don’t want to be alone at home all the time. 

His body shakes and you realize it’s a sob that wracks his body. Your shoulder is slightly wet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Please.” You’ve never seen him cry. Not like this. Not as he clings to you and admits defeat. “I...I couldn’t take care of you--It’s my fault. I know, but--”

“I like Windrise. It’s very relaxing.” You say as the two of you walk around the tree, collecting materials. “Is it?” Albedo responds, stopping momentarily to look up at the tree. “You don’t think so?” you curiously ask your lover. He ponders for a moment before smiling, “I think coming home to you is a lot more relaxing,” at the early stages of your relationship hearing something like that from him would cause you to blush.

You pry his arms away and look up at him. His head is dipped low and you can’t see his face clearly, concealed by his hair. You brush his hair away and lift his head up, and you see how streaks of tears run down his cheeks. You see the sleepless nights in his eyes. The hurt that creases on his forehead. You see what your absence has done to him, and all in one moment, you think that perhaps you were too harsh on him. That you should’ve talked it out instead of leaving so abruptly but you-- “I was hurt...” your lips tremble as you try to explain. 

“I try, really hard, to make things easier for you. To care about you. I have never asked for anything grand.” You’re surprised at how level your voice is, despite feeling like you might break down just as he does. 

“I’m aware,” Albedo wipes at his face, frustrated at himself. His tears have stopped. You were talking. That must be a good sign. “I don’t--Don’t deserve you,” but he steels himself and places his hands on your cheeks. God how long had it been since he touched you like this? and wipes away the tears that were silently falling from your eyes. “But I’ll take care of you. I’ll prove your worth. I... won’t make the same mistake again,” 

And when Albedo said or promised something he was one of the few people that you believed in the most. He was trustworthy all the way, and was true to most of what he said. “You have my word... and if I do make the same error again then... Then you can leave. But right now I--” he moves to rest his forehead against yours, taking in the warmth and love that he had missed. “I’m asking for another chance,” he gulps. “Please,”

You stay quiet for a moment. Assessing the situation. But your eyes close at the closeness the two of you are in right now. There was no doubt that you still loved him. A few days would not change anything. A few days would not ruin the years that you spent together. But you were scared and guarded. You weren’t sure what would happen and if it was worth it. You were scared of being with him and being lonely. “...We... should talk and think a little bit more about this...” you conclude and give your answer, stepping away from him.

Albedo’s face grimaces in distraught, but turns into confusion when you take his hand and tugs on it slightly. “...At home, we can talk about this at home...Is that okay? Let’s go back first,” you would figure it out with him from there.

His head drops and he tries hard not to let tears escape again. He really didn’t deserve you. He didn’t deserve this kindness but he sure as hell would take it. He would take it and make it right again. He picks his head up and squeezes your hand, voice slightly soft and trembling, and smiles.

“Thank you. That’s perfect,” 

and with his hand tight on yours, because he wasn’t letting you go again, the two of you make your way back.

Should I make a part 3 with fluff and write about the aftermath and how Albedo made it up to you? Let me know :D Message me :D Love me <3

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[ilici]

that’s my sister.

Summary: Sapnap and Dream go to visit George in the UK when they go out clubbing, Sapnap has a one night stand with someone he thought looked familiar.

(There will be a male version to this one soon !)

NSFW MINORS DNI

Warnings: degrading, choking, oral (giving), sir kink, thigh riding.

Word Count: 2498

Sapnap leaned back in the passenger seat, and propped his feet up on the dashboard. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t dirty up the rental car.” Dream spoke up, glancing over at Sapnap before he turned his attention back to the road. Sapnap only scoffed, but kept his feet propped up. “I am aching Dream, we’ve been in every type of vehicle you can think of in the past 12 hours.” Sapnap whined, wanted to finally be able to relax. “Shut up, I’ve drove two of those hours, and the rest was on an airplane where you slept the entire time.” Dream said, shaking his head at his friends whinny behavior. “Yeah? So what? I was still in a vehicle.” He said, shaking his head, and looked at the passing buildings.

“How long do we have left till we even get to George’s house?” He asked, and Dream looked down at his phone that was on his lap giving him the directions. “About ten minutes.” He confirmed, and Sapnap felt relieved he only had to be inside the car for ten more minutes. “Thank God.” He mumbled, and looked over at him, “Didn’t George recently move out of his mom’s house and into his own place?” He asked, and Dream nodded. “Yeah, if he was still living with his mom we would've done been there 20 minutes ago.” He admitted, and Sapnap mentally cussed George out. “Does George live alone?” He asked and Dream shrugged, “He’s mentioned he has a sister that comes and visits a lot, so I would assume so.”

After a long ten minute drive, they pulled up to a gated house. “He seriously has a gate?” Sapnap said, and Dream looked at him, “Our house has a gate dumbass.” He said, and Sapnap laughed, “True true.” He nodded his head, as the gate opened for them. “He must’ve seen us on his camera or something.” Dream muttered under his breath as he drove up the driveway. “This house is huge holy shit.” Sapnap said, gawking at the house. “Well yeah, Brighton has better houses than Florida.” Dream said as if it were obvious, “It’s like a whole three stories.” He said, as they parked. George’s figure came into view and he excitedly waved at them. “Hey guys!” George said as he walked to the rental car, planning to help with their luggage. “Hey George.” Sapnap said, as he grabbed his suitcase and some of his duffle bags. Dream greeted George with a hug, and grinned. “I’ll show you two to your rooms.” George said, grabbing what was left.

As the three walked in, Dream and Sapnap were smacked with the smell of French toast. “Did you cook?” Dream asked bewildered, “No, my sister made food for us before she left to go home.” George explained, and the other two nodded. “She seems sweet.” Sapnap said, and Dream nodded in agreement, “She has her moments like every sibling would.” He explained, and Dream mentally agreed thinking back to his sisters. “Sapnap your room is on the second floor and to the right, Dream yours is on the third floor and to the left.” He informed them, and Sapnap instantly looked at George, “Why can’t I be on the third floor?” He asked, and George stared at him blankly, “Because I’d prefer you fall down two sets of stairs then three.” Dream laughed at this and Sapnap attempted to flip him off, straining his arm in the process from all the weight.

Walking up the stairs and into his designated room, he placed everything down and took in the room. “What the..” He whispered, seeing how clean everything was. The room was a dark grey, and had a huge window as a wall on his right, letting him see the clear vision of beautiful mountains. He found himself staring at the scenery, it took his breath away, “Sapnap?” George asked waving a hand in front of Sapnap. Snapping out of his thoughts, he blinked repeatedly and looked over to George, “Yeah?” He asked, and George scoffed. “I've been calling your name for the longest time.” He said waving his arms about, exaggerating. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Sapnap said, waving him off. “Get dressed, we are going to eat then I’m taking you to the club because Dream said you needed to loosen up from all the traveling.” He said, shocked that Sapnap wasn’t jet lagged. 

Sapnap nodded and practically pushed George out of the room. Getting dressed, he put on black jeans, a corpse hoodie he received from Corpse himself with a note that said, “I apologize for not knowing you.” Slipping on his shoes, he walked out, not really caring about his appearance too much since he never really mattered to him in the first place. As they all finished eating, it was nearing 8 pm. Getting into the car, Dream made sure George didn’t drive, especially since it was night time. “Just because you got your license a month ago, doesn't mean I will trust you.” Dream said, as George sulked in the passenger side. Sapnap just looked at the scenery as they drove to the club. Feeling the car come to a halt, Sapnap looked up and he grinned, “I am going to get so wasted. I am so glad the age limit is different in the UK.” Sapnap said, and Dream laughed, “You turned 20 like two weeks ago, you’re crazy.” He said shaking his head as everyone got out.

After 4 cosmo’s Sapnap was wasted, and was now on the dance floor as Dream was drinking nothing for being the designated driver. “I hate babysitting.” Dream said, looking at George who shrugged, since he didn’t really like alcohol that much. “At least someone is having fun.” George mumbled, trying to find Sapnap in the mass amount of people. Without any luck, neither of them spotted him. Sapnap on the other hand, was now dancing with a girl who was wearing a rose gold satin dress. Her features seemed similar but he couldn’t put a finger on it. Her E/C and H/C was what threw him off, everything else seemed like deja vu. 

Her pale smooth skin, and her full plump lips, that he was dying to kiss so badly. Grabbing her hips, the two were grinding on each other. He loved the way her dress clung to her curves, “You’re beautiful.” He whispered into her ear, and the girl blushed. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He asked, and she nodded, “I’m going to go tell my friends that I am leaving. My place or yours? I live with my friends, so if you live alone your place is the better option for more privacy.” He said, slurring his words a tad. “My place.” She finally spoke, and her voice sounded silky if even possible. It sounded gorgeous, grinning he lightly spanked her ass as he told her to wait for him outside. Walking in the direction of his friends, Sapnap saw them. “I’m going with a girl, you two can go home.” He said, and the other two just shot up ready to leave.

Sapnap rushed outside, calling an uber as he walked out. “Let’s go.” He said, grabbing her hand, the two stumbling about. Both were drunk, but they knew what they were doing. When the uber arrived, the girl told him her address and Sapnap couldn’t keep his hands off of her. He was either touching her thighs, or subtly kissing her neck, he felt intoxicated by her. Y/N on the other hand was growing frustrated at the touches, her sexual frustration was getting to her. “Fuck this.” She mumbled, and climbed over to straddle Sapnap, ordering the uber driver to keep his eyes on the road. “God you’re so hot.” Sapnap whispered to her, and Y/N crashed her lips on his, the two feeling intoxicated from each other. 

Pulling away, Sapnap groaned, “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system, but I could get drunk off your lips.” He said, biting her bottom lip and tugged on it. Giggling Y/N shook her head, and gasped when she felt her hips being rocked. Leaning her head back, she bit her bottom lip holding in a moan as she let Sapnap guide her hips on his thigh. “Someone likes thigh riding, don’t they?” He teased, and Y/N whined nodding her head too embarrassed to say anything. The fact that the uber driver could hear and see everything made her so much more excited. Speeding up his movements, Sapnap flexed his thigh and Y/N let a moan slip out. “Fuck that was hot.” He said watching her, as her face contorted into one of pleasure as she was growing close. 

Speeding up once more, he pushed his leg up, and that’s what set her off. Letting out a strand of curses, she felt herself cum. Sapnap watched the sight in front of him, watching her unravel was the prettiest sight ever. Hearing a throat being cleared, the two looked to the front, and noticed they were now at her house. Y/N mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ as the two stumbled out of the car. Y/N paid the uber driver double since he had to witness everything. “Come on doll.” Sapnap said, picking her up and placed her down once they made it to her front door. Fumbling with her keys, she quickly unlocked the door. The two rushed in and in a matter of seconds, Y/N was shoved against the door, Sapnap kissing her deeply and passionately. “Off now.” He mumbled against her lips, as he unzipped her dress skillfully. Pulling away, Y/N let the dress fall to her ankles. Sapnap looked her body up and down hungrily, the matching soft pink lace undergarments made him groan. 

“I can’t even wait to get into your room. I am going to fuck you, right here, right now. Understood?” He said, reaching up grabbing her neck as Y/N whimpered nodding her head. “Since I let you have your moment in the car, you’re gonna give me a reward.” He said pushing her down by the throat and Y/N licked her lips in anticipation. Sapnap eagerly took off his hoodie and shirt, throwing it across the living room. “You do it.” He said, motioning for her to unzip his pants. Nodding, she started unzipping his pants, and unbuttoned them. “Use your words doll.” He said, caressing her jawline, and Y/N bit her bottom lip, “Yes sir.” She said, and Sapnap smirked, “Good girl.” He said, and he hissed a bit when he felt the cool air hit his now free dick. Y/N looked at his dick, it was long and thick. She didn’t know if it was going to be able to fit. 

“Go on.” He urged her, and Y/N nodded snapping out of her trance. Grabbing the base of his dick, she gave it a long lick and Sapnap groaned leaning his head back at the sensation. Grabbing her hair, he made it into a messy ponytail. Slowly she licked the precum off the tip, and finally wrapped her lips around his dick. Bobbing her head slowly, Sapnap let out a small moan, as he looked down at the beautiful girl. “Eyes on me doll.” He said, and Y/N looked up at him with her innocent looking eyes, which made him want to destroy her right then and there. Not wanting to waste time, he started thrusting into her mouth. Y/N on the other hand, was special as she had no gag reflex. This; however, caught Sapnap off guard completely. “God such a good little slut you are for me.” He said, biting his bottom lip.

He was amazed by her even more, she let him face fuck her, and he felt himself growing close to his climax. Shoving his dick down her throat as he felt himself cum, he slowly pulled out of her mouth. “Swallow.” He ordered, and she obediently swallowed. Picking her up quickly he shoved her against the wall, pulling her underwear down. “Are you ready Doll?” He asked, and Y/N eagerly nodded her head. “I’m ready please just fuck me.” She whined out, and Sapnap quickly thrusted into her not giving her time to adjust. Y/N let out a strangled moan, as he wrapped his hand around her throat again. “God you’re so tight.” He groaned out, thrusting up into her roughly. Y/N was a moaning mess, she kept trying to hold in her moans, but they kept escaping no matter what. Feeling herself growing close once again, Sapnap smirked, “Cum on my dick Doll.” He whispered in her ear, leaning down to add hickeys on her neck. 

The way Y/N’s body was so pale and empty, it was as if she was an empty canvas waiting to be painted on. So he took it upon himself to make sure she had hickeys every where he could reach. Feeling her clench around him, he realized she had came. Pulling out Sapnap felt himself cum, and watched as it landed on her ass. Groaning at the sight, he scooped some of it up on his fingers and demanded her to lick his fingers clean. Y/N soon felt herself being picked up, and a wet substance being rubbed on her body. She assumed it was a wet washcloth, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’ she felt her upper body being covered by an oversized hoodie. Sapnap sat her on the bed, and helped her put on new underwear, he slipped on his own underwear and laid in bed. The two quickly fell asleep.

“What the hell?” Sapnap heard, and he groaned, as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking around, he finally remembered where he was. Looking over he saw her still peacefully sleeping. Growing confused at the voice, he looked around and saw nothing. Looking over he noticed the beautiful stranger also had a window for a wall showing a beautiful forest instead. He wouldn’t mind waking up to that every morning, and the girl beside of him. Slowly getting up, he walked downstairs, hearing hushed voices. “Sapnap?” He heard, and Sapnap whipped around to see a red face George, and a hysterical Dream. “I told you that was his shirt!” Dream said in between laughs. George paid no mind to him as he pointed a finger at Sapnap, “You slept with my twin sister?!” George yelled, and Sapnap chuckled. “So that’s who she reminded me of.” He said, and everyone went quiet when they heard soft pattering of feet walking down the stairs. Sapnap’s heart melted at the sight of Y/N tiredly rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “George?” She asked, and George visibly calmed at her voice, “Y/N you slept with my best friend Sapnap?” George asked, and the two looked at each other. “Y/N.” “Sapnap.” The two said at the same time, finally knowing their names.

[chocolateheart]

Door number 12

Title: Door Number 12

Word count: 7937 (I know, I'm sorry)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: A noisy neighbour is bringing you a lot of emotions. What if this bubbling tension and frustration will finally find their way out?

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex (please, wrap it before you tap it), creampie, fingering, handjob, pinning to the wall, clothes tearing, biting, scratching, a lot of kissing, strong eye contact, sex noises, tension, some swearing, noisy neighbour, arguing, stealing food, property damage, I don't know, porn?

Bingo Square Filled: Neighbour AU for @spnmixedbingo

A/N: Yes, another porn. Please, don't judge me, I couldn't help it. I won't say much, that fic just sorta happened. I hope you'll like it! Enjoy babes!

A/N: As always huge huge huge THANK YOU to my dear beta, angel and Queen @winchest09 for giving this piece a look. Love you Tabbs <3 Still, mistakes are mine!

A/N: The gorgeous divider designed by incredibly talented @talesmaniac89 <3

Throwing your bag on the counter along with your keys, a deep sigh left your chest. You numbly looked around your apartment as you began to take off your jewellery. Why did this place always look like a pigsty every time you got back home? Your necklace and bracelet joined your bag when you tossed them to one side as a yawn escaped you.

This day was exhausting, to say the least. Maybe your work wasn’t that demanding but sometimes it was just tiring to the point where you wanted to cry. After shrugging your jean jacket off, your feet took you to the couch and you just collapsed down on it with a pained grunt. Your body was stiff and aching, your head was pounding from pain and as soon as you felt a pillow under it, your will to stay awake had started to fade. You knew you shouldn’t take a nap now as there was still so much left to do today, but for god's sake, it was Friday evening and you had been working for the past 5 days at top speed. An hour of rest was something you definitely deserved.

Without standing up, you lifted your hips to take off your jeans and wrapped yourself in the blanket you always kept on the couch. Relaxing your body with a deep breath, you closed your eyes, already halfway to dreamland. But as soon as you felt yourself drifting completely, a loud sound of guitar suddenly sounded in your ears, making your eyes snap open.

No, not again!

Fisting the pillow, you felt the anger growing as you knew exactly where the loud rock music was coming from; recognising the band as AC/DC. When the volume increased, you hid your head underneath the pillow, desperate to cut off your aching skull from the noise. But it didn’t work, the sound still bleeding through the cushion. It didn’t take you a minute to shoot up on straight legs and pull on your sweats while marching towards the front door.

Mumbling inappropriate words, you entered the staircase for your building and immediately went down; hearing the power of the music increasing with every step you took. You found yourself on a floor below, with your jaw and hands clenched, eyes glued to door number 12 as you approached it. Once you stood in front of it, you lifted one of your fists and hit the hard on the wood a few times, ready to murder the person on the other side. Of course he made you wait till the song ended, causing you to repeat the punching a couple of times.

When the door finally opened, you were fuming with anger, eyes shooting lightnings towards the tall man on the opposite side of the doorstep.

"I swear to god, Winchester," you hissed through gritted teeth, a loud melody almost muffling your words. "If you won't turn that down, I will physically harm you." Your threatening pulled a laugh from him which only acted as another oil drop to the fire.

"Sweetheart you can't do anything to me," he said, leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed on this broad chest. "Besides, I don't understand what your problem is." Dean shrugged as if nothing had happened, making your brows shoot up.

"You don't understand?! This music is driving me crazy!" You took a deep breath and while not breaking the strong eye contact you had with him, you started to enlighten him on what exactly was wrong. "I’ve had a terrible day, no, week actually. Everything hurts, my head is pounding and this music is shaking my walls which in turn, is not letting me sleep. So if you could be so nice and turn that off because I swear on what's holy, if I lose my goddamn mind, your name will be the first one I'm gonna mention once they ask me how I ended up in mental hospital." Words just slipped out of you in one unbreakable line and you took shuddering breath after, composing yourself.

However, the smug smirk didn’t leave your neighbour's face; he didn’t give a damn about your monologue. After you finished, he only put a hand on your shoulder and delivered his response.

"It's a Friday evening and we live in a free country. There’s no rule saying I can't listen to loud music, unless it's lights out. What's more, you're the only one who can't stand this, I don't see anyone else coming here to complain, so maybe the problem lies in you, not in me," he simply said, as he flashed you a fake, sarcastic smile and closed the door. But not before saying, "have a nice evening."

You looked up to the ceiling, asking for patience but the frustration and anger were huge. You growled, kicked Winchester's door with your socked foot and cursed, feeling pain going from your toes to the tibial bone.

On your way back to your apartment, you were mumbling out every possible, offensive name that came to your mind when you thought about that green eyed man. Your relationship had been heated ever since he moved into the building. He made your blood boil. Loud music, meetings with his friends, watching movies on full volume on his surround speakers after dark in the middle of the week, noisily cooking at midnight; even his one night stands apparently had an unfulfilled opera career.

You were having a battle with Dean, on average, twice a week. Knowing you weren’t the only one who couldn’t stand his behavior, you asked others for help, but Dean’s charm was way bigger of an opponent than you had expected. He could just use a sweet smile, say a few, flirty words with this deep voice and Ann from the end of the hall would walk on wobbly legs with stupid smile on her face for the next four days.

You couldn’t really blame her, the man was ridiculously attractive but you were looking past it. Dean was an annoying asshole and the only reason you had not yet clawed out his eyes was the fact that visiting the jail wasn’t exactly a wooing thought.

Shutting your door behind you, you leaned against it and ‘Sweet Child O’ mine’ came on. You growled once again, hit your wooden barricade with your head and looked down, trying to find calmness in your floor. Once you stopped radiating fury, knowing that the person below won't let you rest for at least two more hours, you chose the second drawer in your kitchen, searching for painkillers. If you were being made to stay up, you were gonna be productive. Swallowing two aspirin, you decided to clean the place so you could focus on college work tomorrow.

If only you could actually focus on college work.

After waking up at 8 am the next day, you opened the window on your way to the kitchen, craving coffee. It wasn’t normal for you to get up at this hour on the weekend but your finals were coming and you had way more work than you expected.

Thankfully, the weather outside was pleasant; the sun was already shining, creating morning shadows and the soft wind streamed inside your apartment, tickling your ankles as you sat at the table, eating breakfast. The smell of spring made you smile, always bringing back good memories. After the meal, you didn’t bother to change your pajamas for the actual clothes and you just took the laptop to start working on your college sheets. You were sitting with one of your legs bent, heel leaning on the chair, messy bun on your head, sipping on the second coffee while listening to the birds singing happily outside. Words were flooding out of you, making you feel certain that it wouldn’t take you long to be done with your essays. But that blissful moment was cut short when a loud rumble of a car’s engine resonated under your building, causing you to jerk in your chair and almost spill your drink.

Recognizing it straight away, you looked up, trying your best to not get angry again but as the sound of his loud engine revving l continued, you smacked the table with your palm and stood up. As you leaned on your window sill and gazed out, you spotted black, slick Chevrolet with the driver's door, trunk and hood open. Tools were scattered around the vehicle, a jean clothed leg was sticking out from the inside and you greeted your teeth, knowing who that was.

“Hey!” you yelled out, not caring if probably half of the residents could hear you. “I’m trying to study here!”

Dean peeked out and up at you, smiled and got out of the car, leaning his elbow on the hood in a nonchalant way.

“Good morning to you too,” he said and flashed you the oh-so-charming smile.

“It would be good if you didn’t interrupt it with your loud junker,” you spat back, leaning on the window frame and smiled when his face fell; he hated it when someone insulted his Baby, and you were very much aware of that. “Now, could you please lower your generic volume because I have a lot to do and you’re the last thing I want to deal with today.”

“Nobody tells you to. I’m minding my business, you go mind yours, I ain’t stopping you.” He gestured towards you with his grease covered hand.

“No, but your car is making noise that shakes all the dishes in my cabinet.”

He just shrugged and you narrowed your eyes, seeing that he didn’t care about whatever your problem was. “Then I suggest closing the window.”

After saying that, he dived inside the vehicle and seconds later you heard the strong twang of a guitar. Again. This man was very successful in making you hate rock music. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, stopping yourself from throwing a flowerpot at him; only because it was a very nice pot and you were emotionally attached to it.

“I need fresh air! I’m not gonna close the window! Turn that off!” you screamed, but he only frowned and pointed to his ear.

“Sorry sweetheart, can’t hear you!” You could see the smile dancing on his lips and you really wanted to break something on his head. “The music is too loud!”

Clenching your jaw you gave up. Another defeat, but it wasn’t the war you lost; it was just a battle and he was yet to feel your comeback. Showing him your middle finger, you closed the window and went to the bathroom, not being able to hear the soft chuckle that left him.

Maybe to an outsider, Dean’s behavior wasn’t such a big deal, but the longer he acted like that, the more annoying and tiring it was becoming. You couldn’t focus on basic activities because he was giving you a headache in various ways and for some reason, you couldn’t just talk it through with him. Every attempt at trying to get to an understanding with him, ended up with a fight.

Winchester was just a pain in the ass.

Thankfully, he vanished before noon; his car was gone and there was a blissful silence that you made the most of, and finished the majority of what you had to do.

Surrounded by papers and books, you were sitting down on your fluffy carpet, leaning back on your couch, typing away on your laptop. Glancing at your clock again, you frowned. It’s been almost 85 minutes since you ordered pizza; your stomach was rumbling, unhappy with the fact of still being empty. Finding your phone, you dialed the pizza parlor’s number once again. Standing up, you stretched your muscles and looked outside, watching the sunset sky as you waited for someone to pick up. Finally, the lady’s voice spoke to you down the line, asking you how she could help.

“Hi, I made an order from you and I still haven’t received it? It’s been over an hour,” you explained politely, scratching the back of your head.

You didn’t like situations like that; delay was understandable, but it had been way too long. However, you hated to call someone out, you never wanted to make someone’s job harder than it already was. Giving your address to the lady so she could check where your food was, you spotted the black vehicle under the building and your brows shot up. He was home and it was still quiet; it wasn’t normal.

“Miss, the system says your order was delivered and we have a confirmation of receipt.” You frowned hearing her words as what she said was impossible.

“Are you sure? There was no delivery here.”

“Yes, I’m positive. It says someone picked up the order twenty minutes ago.” Pinching your nose, you took a deep breath.

“Could you check the address precisely, please? Maybe your driver made a mistake?” you suggested being already sure someone else got your food.

“Rosenhouse Street, building 4, apartment 12,” she read and the last number made you flinch.

“Apartment 20,” you corrected her, but she denied.

“No Miss, the order was picked up by apartment 12.” And just like that the level of your anger reached three digits in a second.

“Okay, thank you so much,” you murmured and disconnected the call without a goodbye, already storming halfway across your place, getting ready to leave.

Slamming the door, you took a very well known path downstairs and you banged on number 12 as soon as you stood in front of it. Feeling the urge to punch the person who was supposed to open, you inhaled deeply, clenching your teeth. Just... keep it cool, Y/N.

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” you growled the second Dean came into your view in his domestic clothes, wearing sweatpants and a hoodie.

“Whoa, what?” he tilted his head with an uncomprehending look.

“Listen,” you pointed a finger at him. “Loud noises, annoying car, your mean behavior, fine, okay. Screw it. But stealing food? That is childish. Can you go any lower?!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he said with a smile dancing on his lips. “What food?”

“My pizza,” you muttered through your teeth.

“Oh, right!” He smacked his forehead, acting like he just now understood. “Yeah, pizza was great.”

“You stole it!” you exclaimed, a little too high pitched.

“No I didn’t,” Dean stated, giving you a small, I-know-better smile.

“Yes, you did. I ordered it and you just pocketed it!” You really wanted to stamp your foot like a little girl to tick your fury.

"No sweetheart, I didn’t," he said, crossing his arms and straightening his back so he could tower over you, making you look up. "The guy came in with pizza, said he's supposed to bring it here, so I paid for it and ate it."

"Oh! Because it's normal to pay for the food you didn’t order and keep it to yourself. And stop calling me sweetheart!" You puffed out irritated, making him smirk.

"You're cute when you're angry." Your face fell and you felt your palm itching. What would he do if you slapped him?

"Dean," you warned him but he chuckled.

"No, seriously." He reached to your forehead, wanting to brush it with his finger. "You have this cute, little wrinkle in the middle-"

"Don't touch me." You smacked his hand away and pointed a warning finger straight into his face. "One more action like this and you're gonna regret it," you growled out and walked away.

"So it's threatening now, huh?!" he called after you, coming out to stand in the hall.

Before you stepped on the stairs, you turned around with such a force, that your hair flipped over one of your shoulders and you showed him your middle finger. Hearing his low laugh bouncing on the wall, you scoffed annoyed as you stomped loudly going back upstairs. You swore that if you were supposed to become a murderer one day, that this man was gonna be victim number one. This whole 'lets annoy her' process would be great fuel for you to slice that slender throat of his.

Shutting the door again, you walked into the kitchen, dived in the fridge and decided to stuff yourself with pancakes. Screw Dean and his pizza, you were not going to give him satisfaction with ordering anything else tonight.

“So, he’s a confident man,” Jo stated after you told her about Winchester’s behavior.

You came to Harvelle's to grab something for Sunday dinner; they had the most delicious menu in the whole town and no one could change your mind. You were sitting with a blonde girl at the table, outside their restaurant, sipping on some light drinks Ellen had prepared for the two of you. Ash was already working on your meal in the kitchen while Jo was taking her break so she could sit with you and listen about your neighbour under the floor. It took you way longer to describe everything and you felt kind of bad for that. You weren’t the type who whined about such things and forced friends to hear about your bullshit, but now you were desperate to get it all off your chest.

“Confident asshole,” you corrected her, “I just wish he could finally get his ass kicked, you know? I can’t live with this man! He’s an arrogant, offensive, little, annoying dickhead!” you said, crossing your arms on your chest.

After a few seconds of silence, you looked up at Jo. She was watching you, clearly trying not to smile; her lips were twitching and small dimples had already appeared. You knew her long enough to know that she was all ready to tease you about this whole situation.

“What?” you barked at her and she lifted her hands in defense.

“Nothing!” She shrugged. “Just, your relationship with him seems to have been… rough since the very beginning.”

“It is! I really wanna punch him!” Jo lifted her brows, a smile breaking on her face.

“Just punch him?” The suggestion was shining in her eyes and your shoulders fell down at the subtext.

“Jo!” she started giggling when she heard your resigned tone. “Just because I’m having a heated exchange with a hot guy doesn’t mean that I wanna fuck him!”

“Oh, so you think he’s hot?” she asked innocently, taking a sip from her glass.

“Yes, but he’s an idiot and I would never let him in my panties, come on,” you scoffed as you rolled your eyes. The last thing you would ever do was having sex with this man.

“Sure.”

And you knew Jo didn’t believe you. To be honest, if you thought about it really, really hard, you weren’t sure if you believed yourself…

The door opened and Ash came out with a smile, your food packed in a thermal box.

“There you go, girl. We do not accept any complaints,” he said, winking at you and you chuckled, taking the meal from him.

“Thanks, Ash.” He saluted you and vanished as quickly as he appeared. You glanced at your phone laying on the table and sighed seeing the time. “Okay babe, I’m gonna go. School’s calling and I bothered you enough anyway.”

“Oh stop it, you’re not bothering me, don’t be stupid,” she said smiling, and hugged you tight. “Text me when you get home.”

“Sure thing.” You winked and walked backwards, watching her disappear inside the RoadHouse.

Smiling to yourself, you turned around and crossed the street. At first your thoughts were filled with Jo who could always put you in a good mood but then they gradually transitioned into someone else.

You didn’t know if it was your overworked system or what Jo had teased you about that caused Dean to stick inside your mind, but you wanted to scream; it was like he had nested in there. Not only was he disturbing your living space, but he was now invading your mental space as well. What’s more, it wasn’t exactly hard to not think about him in a nasty way, and you hated it. The truth was that he was attractive from his fluffy hair to his toes, and more than once you had caught yourself daydreaming about his hands and mouth on you.

You couldn’t help it. The way he looked was not fair and Jo made you realise that if not for his attitude, you would have slept with him a long time ago. Thankfully, in the moments you felt weakness for him, he was doing something that pissed you off to the point where you wanted to bite his head off.

You really wanted to get even with him, you had to bounce the ball. The need to bite back was so big that you stopped dead in your tracks when you saw the paint store. The bulb in your head flickered on and a devil smile angled your lips. Maybe it was a bad idea, maybe it was childish, maybe it was crossing the line, but you had suffered enough thanks to this jerk.

Buying one can of pink chalk paint, you were muting your common sense that was currently shouting at you. As the saying goes - you only live once. He wanted a fight? You were going to fight. He started to play a strong hand? You were going to do the same. He thought playing with you like that was fun? Well, you were gonna have some fun too. Besides, he wouldn’t realise immediately that the paint would easily wash off, but seeing him panic thinking that his car had been defaced was revenge enough.

With a few last strokes of a paintbrush, you were finished. Straightening your back, you looked down at your work and smiled, satisfied with pink flowers you had drawn on the black surface. They were a nice contrast and you really liked the shape. In all honesty, it kinda burned you to paint this four wheeled beauty, but it wasn’t your fault her owner was a douchebag who deserved a lesson.

The impala was parked in her usual spot, next to the building that was mostly asleep. There were no cameras and due to the late hour, the chance of someone spotting you was small. Besides, you were just a hooded figure, no one would recognise you anyway even with the dim light from a lonely lantern. It was risky, but you were too far gone in your revenge to care. It had been done and you wished you could see Dean’s face in the morning.

Gathering your things you looked around, checking to see if there was anyone you should avoid and you got back to your apartment. After closing the door, you took off your clothes, staying only in leggings and a t-shirt, and decided to make some tea. You had this weird energy bubbling inside of you and it would be a waste to not use it on college papers. Getting comfortable on your couch you started going through materials for one of your projects.

Not expecting any visitors, you jumped slightly while hearing a rapid knocking on your door an hour later. You frowned and stood up, finishing your tea on your way to the entry. What you saw on the other side almost made you smile like an idiot. Dean was boring into you with his eyes; if looks could kill, you would surely be a beautiful corpse by now. His chest was rising and falling heavily, jaw clenched to the point his cheek was twitching and you could see the slight blush coloring on his face. He was wearing his leather jacket but was also in sweats so you assumed he was about to make a quick grocery run or something.

“What the hell?!” he growled at you before you could say a word. Ohhh, he was angry.

“What?” You shrugged innocently, ignoring the weird chill that ran down your spine after hearing the vibrations of his tone.

Dean took a deep breath, doing his best to not shout out. “I wanted to go get some beer and burgers, but guess what. Someone screwed up my car. And you know what? I think it was you.”

He pointed a finger at you, holding keys in his hand. You laughed and leaned on your doorframe, ready to confront him. Satisfaction already tickled your insides, but there was one thing that you had to admit - he was hot when he was angry.

“You really think that I have nothing better to do than mess up your car?” you asked, amused by his flaring nostrils.

"Don't you fucking dare play with me like that," he said firmly, not wanting to yell. "Do you know it's property damage? You broke a law and I can easily get you in trouble."

He was fuming with anger and you were sure that if it was possible, there would be smoke coming out of his ears. You smiled and stood your ground, finding it adorable how he thought he had anything useful against you.

"You have nothing on me. No proof that I was the one who defaced your car," you started, taking two steps to stand inches away from him. "Call the cops and I'm gonna tell them all about the nuisance, the stealing, manipulation and manifestations of aggression all coming from you.”

You stared straight into his eyes, a smart smile not leaving you even for a second; feeling confident in your words. Maybe he had a point, but you weren’t empty handed. You could get punished for what you did and so could he.

“What is your problem, Y/N?!” he asked, pinching his nose, clearly irritated with you. “You keep whining, making problems out of nothing and now painting my damn car?”

“You’re not letting me live in peace!” you raised your voice. “Your loud music, loud car, loud tv, loud you in general! I can’t sleep, I can’t study, I can’t do anything because you’re always there to disturb me!”

“Then leave!” he suggested, raising his tone as well. You were taken aback; lifting your brows you blinked a few times. Was he joking?

“Leave?! Are you kidding me now?! This is my home and just a friendly reminder, I was in here first so maybe you should back off!”

“But you’re the only one having a problem with me!” he yelled, spreading his arms, highlighting the obviousness of his argument.

“Because you’re a manipulative ass! You use your charm, this fucking smile, your shining eyes, and nice language, and the whole building is yours! Even Ian from the 4th floor and he doesn't even like people!”

“Ian is a cool guy!”

“Good!”

You took a breath and opened your mouth to say something more but no words came out. Again, you were convinced that there was no way to come to an agreement with this guy. Further arguments were pointless. Looking at him you shook your head and brushed your hair to the back. The soft smile and look you gave him next, made him frown a little.

“You know what? Fuck you,” you said simply and went to close the door, but his retort didn’t let you.

“You wish.”

Freezing, you locked your eyes with his and in a split second, something shifted in the air. The atmosphere got thick and the tension you had been building for months, now came into play, kinda taking you both by surprise. Dean felt it too, you could see his expression changing. He was trying to read you, trying to understand what was buzzing between you. A part of you wanted to explain it, to show him that you already knew it was sexual tension saying ‘hi’, but as soon as you realised that, you swallowed and forced your rational mask back on.

Shaking off the urge to take steps towards him, you scoffed and sending him one last look, you shut the door without saying anything. Taking two deep breaths, you leaned your forehead on the wooden barricade and closed your eyes.

There was no way in hell you would give in and break. He had everyone else in his fist, but not you. The only person that didn’t fall under his spell, the only one that didn’t let your craving inside take better of you. Dean was still your enemy and a pain in the ass; it was a matter of honour and dignity to stay away.

However, soft knocking made your eyes snap open. No. Darting your head from the door you looked at it, knowing who was behind it but that didn’t even register when you pulled on the door-handle. Dean was supporting his body on his arms that he had placed on both sides of your door, blocking the way. He was looking at you intensely, his breathing quicker than moments ago.

You could see the exact second he made a decision. You knew he was going to do something he shouldn’t and yet, you let him close the gap between you and crush his mouth to yours, cupping your cheeks at the same time. The force he hit you with made you take steps backwards, encouraging him to come in and turn you around so you could unconsciously close the door. His grip was firm, long fingers digging in your neck as hot lips forced yours apart. But your stubbornness caused you to push him away, breaking the connection.

The look you exchanged was a mix of emotions; hate, passion, frustration, lust, confusion, hesitation. This was something completely new for you; needing him was unfamiliar, strange, but at the same time stronger than anything you had felt before when it came to Dean. There was this quiet voice telling you that it was already too late; you tasted it and you wanted it, obviously. The other voice was louder, trying to make you aware of how messed up it's gonna be after, but somehow you didn’t want to listen. Not this time.

"Fuck it."

Saying that, you approached Dean and gripping him by the back of his neck, you pulled him down for a kiss. It was sloppy and deep, all teeth and tongues. He inhaled through his nose, bending down when your nails clawed at his skin. Grabbing you by the waist, he used a little pressure so you walked backwards. You didn’t expect to be pushed against the wall and a surprised gasp escaped you when your back hit it. Looking up at Dean, you noticed how his hungry eyes flickered over your figure and a cocky smirk formed on his face. You mirrored his expression and lifted your chin, so you could suck in his lower lip, biting on it softly. His response was immediate and fierce; he pressed his body to yours, pinning you to the wall completely, kissing you even deeper than before. The heat flooded you, making your cheeks burn and a sweat break.

You moaned and that seemed to spur him on because his hands started travelling all over your body. Doing the same, you aimed for his jacket, pushing it off his broad shoulders so it could land on the floor. The thought of finally discovering what was under his clothes took over your brain and you started to pull on his t-shirt, hazed and eager. But Dean grabbed your wrist and pinned it next to your head, not letting you undress him. You twisted and tugged, trying to break free, but he slid his fingers between yours and you instinctively clenched your palm.

“Don’t fight,” he breathed out, leaving your lips as he dropped to your neck, letting you take a much needed breath.

Leaning your head back you gave him the access to your throat where he licked and sucked, french-kissing your flesh. Your knees buckled a little when his hot lips closed on your pulse point, sending shivers down your spine as his stubble prickled you. Feeling his second hand sneaking under your shirt, you held your breath and jerked on the skin to skin contact. He wasn’t delicate; his long fingers were squeezing and digging, a firm touch making it all the more intense. Using your free hand you fisted his hair, pulling on it. Dean purred, nibbling on your flesh, making your eyes roll. It was like playing tennis, back and forth; you had an answer to each other's movements.

The hunger inside you was growing fast; you were getting more and more impatient and being caged by Dean only made you feel limited. So, naturally, you rebelled, trying to take control; with Dean it was always a competition. But your attempt only caused him to press his body more, his knee coming between your legs, making it harder for you to move. The thin material of your leggings was a weak protection to his touch and you whined when your sensitive area met his thigh. Fidgeting even more, you made him chuckle.

“Stop fighting,” he whispered into your ear as he pulled your earlobe between his teeth.

Growling, you turned your head and sunk your teeth into his neck, tasting sweet and salty. Dean hissed and backed away, looking down at you with a surprise in his eyes, brows slightly furrowed. You smiled and angled yourself to speak against his lips.

“Don’t act like you don’t like a fight, Winchester.”

The suggestion was clear and he seemed to understand. Your relationship was already a ticking bomb so why not have a little fun?

The challenging look you gave him was a last jolt and his mode switched. Before you could do anything, he kissed you firmly, letting go of you just to grab on the front of your shirt. Pulling with two hands Dean ripped the fabric in half, revealing your torso, making you smile a devil’s smile. He shook his head in disbelief that you were actually going along with it and grinning, he attacked your jaw. Scraping it with his teeth first, then kissing and going down passed your neck, to your collarbone. Bending his knees so he could reach lower and lower, he proceeded to shrug the destroyed clothing off you and focus on your breasts. Placing sloppy kisses on the curves, Dean moved his hands on your back and unclasped your bra. As soon as it was gone, he sucked in one of your nipples, causing you to arch your chest. Pulling his hair, you grabbed the back of his head, letting him know you enjoyed his work.

Every time his lips touched you, they left burning spots and you could feel yourself getting wetter. Not holding back anymore, you started to roll your hips, seeking the friction his leg could give you. Still playing with your boobs, he caught your hips and added the power to your moves, dragging a moan from you. Glancing down, you spotted the bulge in his sweatpants and realised he was still wearing too much clothes.

“Take that fucking shirt off,” you panted out, grabbing on the piece of clothing on his back.

This time he allowed you to do what you needed, lifting his arms to make your task easier and the second his chest was bare, you used your nails to leave red lines, making him grimace from pain before he kissed you. Caressing his newly exposed body, you felt firm muscles of his strong arms flexing. He wasn’t a gym type of guy, he was soft in some places but firm and strong in general, and that turned you on to the point your stomach flipped.

Suddenly, he pushed on your hips until your butt touched the wall behind you and pulled away from you, straightening himself. You looked at each other, panting and flinching in anticipation. Keeping the eye contact, Dean cupped your face, brushing his thumb over your swollen lips and slowly slid his hands down your body. You swallowed hard when he hooked his fingers behind your waistband and pulled your leggings down, crouching in front of you.

With a thumping heart you looked down at him, meeting his dark eyes watching you as he kissed your knee, your thigh, your inner thigh; his hands travelling up your legs, leaving goosebumps. You shivered when his hot breath hit your still clothed core. He placed a kiss on your damp panties, making your pussy clench and stopped. Leaning his forehead on your lower stomach, he tried to remain self-control, breathing strongly to calm himself down... and he failed. This whole situation was too much and he had wanted it for way too long to stop now.

Shooting up, he claimed your lips, driving his fingers inside your briefs at the same time. His digits went through your folds, gathering slick and found your clit, making you gasp into his mouth.

“Yeah? Right here?” he whispered and you sucked the air in through your mouth when he drew a circle, pressing harshly on your little nub.

Feeling him smiling, you clung to his neck, keeping him close when he started to make circles on your button. Moaning laughs escaped you, mixed with short breaths as you felt fire filling your veins, tickling sparks running from your clit to every nook of your system. For a moment you lost yourself in the feeling, but your brain woke up when he nudged you, rubbing his dick on your leg.

Opening your eyes, you locked them with his, tracing your palm down his chest and stomach. Somehow, you managed to turn you both around so he was by the wall. You didn’t care about teasing him through his pants so you pushed your hand inside and grabbed his hard shaft. Dean jerked and choked on his breath; the whole foreplay made him ridiculously sensitive.

You smiled satisfied and began to pump him, making his head fall back on the wall. His exposed neck was shining with sweat, throat moving as he swallowed hard. Your biting kink was begging for you to bite him, but the view was too good to not watch. His breathing quickened along with your strokes, his jaw flexing when he opened his mouth to chug. A thick vein popped out on the side of his neck, a guttural whine coming from him when you rubbed your thumb on his tip. Finally, you gave in and closed your lips on his jaw, light stubble pricking your lips. Dean turned his head and palming yours he brought you in for a kiss but you broke it fast, having enough.

"Come on," you said, taking his hand and leading him to your bedroom.

Not being able to stay away from each other, you stumbled towards the room, kissing and laughing, getting rid of the rest of the clothes on your way. Hitting the bed you let yourself fall on it, pulling Dean behind you. He hovered above you, using his tongue to play with your nipples as you both climbed up to the headboard. Adjusting the pillows beneath you, you felt his body pressing down, arms sneaking under yours as he kissed you deeply. Rolling his hips, he drove his cock between your folds, poking your clit and you automatically lifted your lower body up on your heels, feeling the electricity running through you. Dean bit down on your lip and pulled on it hard with his teeth, smiling when you hissed.

Without thinking much you just reached between your bodies and guided his cock to your entrance, making him freeze. The look he gave you was a mashup of a question and disbelief, and all it took was your evil smirk. You felt him fisting the sheets under you and with one, mild thrust he slid inside of you. Arching your back you inhaled, digging your fingers into his shoulders. He was stretching you; your walls fluttered around him when he bottomed out, making the two of you give silent moans, your voices stuck in your throats from intensity.

Watching you, he began to move, making you both more and more comfortable with the feeling. Gradually, his pace increased and so did the noises. Your breathy moans and growls filled the room, mixing with the sound of skin slapping on skin as Dean's hips waved between your thighs, faster and faster. New layers of sweat covered your bodies as the temperature increased; you felt the omnipresent, pleasurable burning.

Dean kept the rhythm, only stopping for just for a moment to kiss you. Not letting the opportunity pass, you pushed on him and flipped over so you were on top. Looking at you with a smirk, he palmed your asscheeks as you sinked down on him, continuing the activity.

The passion and sensuality made your head spin; Dean’s lustful eyes devouring you alive weren’t helping. You dragged your nails on his flesh again, making him hiss between the sounds. It wasn’t easy to breathe, to think or control yourself; your body started working by itself, speeding up, making you bounce on him while leaning your hands on his chest for support. Dean couldn’t decide where to touch, what part of you he should grab next; his hands were everywhere. Wrapping his fingers around the back of your neck he sat up, changing the angle and gave you this eye-rolling kiss. This asshole knew what he was doing.

A new position allowed you to only roll your hips and you laid back, grabbing Dean’s ankle to make your moves more fluent. He took a handful of your ass, helping you, watching himself sliding in and out of you, growling in pleasure. Tangled together you moved in sync, matching the other’s moves, grinding to empower the sensation. Feeling the coil tightening in your stomach, your head hung back and you exhaled, wailing quietly. A hand flattened on your back and Dean violently pulled you up, pressing your forehead to his. With closed eyes, panting against each other's mouth you chased both of your deliriums. Your pussy fluttered, your nails dug into his neck as you clasped it; the feeling started to overwhelm. The way Dean was moaning and clinging to you made it clear that he felt the same.

Your strength was fading and you found yourself slowing down. Dean’s attempts to continue were in vain as he was becoming weak too, exhaustion and his upcoming release taking over him.

“Y/N,” he warned you and you opened your eyes, looking at him when he reached between you. “I’m gonna-” you kissed him, cutting him off, tugging on his lip with your teeth.

“Stay inside,” you whispered, watching the surprise flash through his features.

The serious, assuring look on your face made his eyes roll back and the noise he made, clamped your stomach. Using your last strands of your power, you sped up, Dean joining you by hitting the right spot inside you. His fingers found your clit again, rubbing on it fast and you moaned loudly, feeling your muscles tightening.

A few more strokes, a few more moves and the crushing wave of pleasure hit you; your inner walls pulsated, squeezing Dean’s cock as you grabbed firmly on his neck, holding on for dear life. His thrusts went more erratic but also were more powerful; he was pounding inside you slow but hard, putting his forehead between your breasts. You were shaking and his breath fanning over your tummy only added more goosebumps.

Then you felt his arms wrapping around you and he hugged you tight. Pulling you close, Dean thrusted for the last time and with a low, throaty groan he stilled; his cock throbbing inside you, allowing you to milk him as you were still coming. The two of you were shivering, entwined in each other, panting and sweaty. Your heart was hammering and you could feel Dean’s galloping as well.

After calming down a bit, he let go of you and fell back on the bed, hitting the pillows with a sigh. Licking your lips, you looked down at him and smiled, seeing his eyes sparkling with joy and bliss. He laughed, caressing your thighs and then pulled you down for a kiss. It was sweet and soft, without tongue, just lips brushing yours; completely different then those earlier.

Oh, so he could be gentle too.

Cupping his face, you pecked his mouth a few times and then rolled off of him, standing up to make a quick run to your bathroom to clean yourself, leaving the door open.

"Hey!" you heard him yelling not even two minutes later, after you splashed your face with cold water. "Is it weird that I wanna cuddle?!"

You smiled on his words, shaking your head. Asshole also appeared to be a softie cuddler. Can this evening be any weirder?

"Yes!" you yelled back, laughing as you put down the cloth you were using to dry yourself.

"Cool!" he announced and then changed his tone, "I don't care."

Chuckling, you turned the light off on your way out and grabbed a random, oversized t-shirt from your drawer to put it on, letting it slip from one of your shoulders. Dean was making himself comfy in your bed, watching you carefully with his arm under his head and a stupid grin on his face.

"What?" you asked as you climbed on the bed, joining him under the covers.

"Nothing," he shrugged and shifted so you could fit in, resting your head on his chest.

Throwing your arm over his middle, you hugged him as his fingers came to trace the skin on your shoulder. A comfortable silence fell over you as you cuddled, enjoying the warmth, but you knew his mind was running, just like yours.

You didn’t like this tendency of yours to overthink, but the current situation was not only unexpected but also confusing. What now? Lovers? Relationship? Friends with benefits? Enemies with benefits? Because, you had to stay honest, if he did something that would piss you off, no matter how good he was in bed, you would still punch his perfect nose.

"I'm sorry." His words surprised you, detaching you from your thoughts. "For being a noisy neighbour."

You could hear the genuine guilt in his voice and that immediately made you feel like a bitch, so you said the first thing that came to your mind.

"I'm sorry for screwing up your car," you mumbled and quickly regretted it.

"Ha! So it was you!" His victory voice made your eyes roll and you poked his side, annoyed by the fact he dragged a confession from you so easily.

"But if it makes you feel any better, the paint is made of chalk so it’ll easily wash off," you said, unable to help the silly smile that spread across your face when you saw the relieved but shocked expression that he wore.

“Well played,” he chuckled, the sound rumbling under your ear which you found oddly comforting. So you snuggled more, melting into the intimacy.

You had to look the truth straight into the eye; maybe he did infuriate you like no other but there was something else. A pull, an urge to blow off the constant steam forming between you. You wanted him and something was telling you that from now on you won't be knocking on door number 12 just to fuss about loud music.

And once Jo finds out, you wouldn’t hear the end of it.

A/N: Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it :) Feel free to leave some feedback. ASKs and DMs are open, don’t be afraid to message me. Every word from you is gold <3

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