#and maybe that would have been more easily received in this one case

[tojisteddy]

Daddy issues | “and if you were my little girl, I’d do whatever I could do…”

cw: 18+ MDNI, 4.1k words (omfg), smut with plot, meanie!simon (he’s a crazy, asshole), Daddy kink, daddy issues (obvi), dd/lg dynamics, mentions of abuse, sexualization of ‘pa, kiddo’ (truly a case of if you hate it just scroll), oral (f receiving), dacryphilia, creampie, full nelson, age gap (reader mid-late 20s, Simon early-mid 30s), no use of y/n (I use [+]).

a/n: obviously influenced by daddy issues by the neighborhood (I know it’s not about this at all, take it up with god), also by take you down by sza :3

You weren’t used to being this needy in your entire life.

You swore you didn’t need anyone, let alone Ghost Riley. You’d been repetitively normal in all your past relationships.

But he’d run through your mind like the Flash going back in time— the older man ruined some of the circuits in your brain.

You’d two gotten into an argument, shocker, but this time over how you were acting. The usually chilled out girl who Ghost would call when he wanted to see his little kitten purr, was now desperate for every little bit of his attention. The blonde despised every bit of it.

“You’re bein fuckin greedy.” He told you, walking away from where you stood after you told you’d wanted to stay over again for another week. Of course, you easily followed right behind, attempting to match his long stride. You never could.

“By wanting to be with you? Aren’t boyfriends supposed to want to see their girlfriends? Supposed to spend time together? There are probably a million girls and guys with sweet boyfriends—“

“—Do I look like one of those buddy buddy, pretty boys you like to fuck to you, [+]?” He turned on his heal, luckily you didn’t crash into his chest like you usually did. His voice was ice cold, “Answer me.”

“No sir.” You mumbled, the air was thick, tightly wrapping around your vocal cords.

“Then why the hell are you bein so damn needy? I told you, I won’t give you all my attention. I’ve got my own shit to take care of and you want me to, what? Hold you on my fuckin hip like a baby?” Well, hey— “Stop bein a damn brat and get the fuck out my face.”

“ ‘M not askin you to take care of me Si, but, I just want-“

“—Cut the shit [+]. You’re pissin me off, why can’t you just fuckin listen? I hate the clingy, desperate shit, get it out of your damn head and get it out of my fuckin house.” He stormed off into one of the bedrooms with a slam of the door.

Simon never had to tell you when he was kicking you out. You’d always go on your own.

He swore if he saw you and you were still stuck on the idea that you had to cling to him, he was gonna rip you a new one.

Did you take him serious?

On a good day, never.

You’d be stuck thinking about how good he looked, blonde hair a mess, veins popping out his neck and his arms, large muscles flexing, face screwed up towards you— you’d lick up all the poison he’d spewed to you over and over. It’s funny, at times like that you’d just wanted to know, if he’d fuck all his anger into you? Maybe you’d cum so many times just from finger fucking you, you’d be a babbling mess, begging for more—

Delusional.

Maybe when he was actually angry with you, not when Ghost was aggravated to the point he didnt want to physically see you.

And at the absolute worst of times, you’d trusted his words. You stayed away for a couple weeks just as you were told because you so desperately wanted to be told how good you were when you got that call. How you weren’t a needy bitch, but the prettiest & smartest girl he’d ever been with.

And of course you could’ve heard those simple words from anyone in a ten mile radius, ask your online followers for a few complements and you would’ve gotten them like clockwork. But you needed to hear it from that meanie.

Did you have a praise kink? Perhaps.

Did you need men’s approval to live? God forbid.

You just wanted Ghosts approval. His rough hands from those long days of being in action to touch your body, the playful head pats you swore you hated it cause it messed up your hair, a good smack to the ass as praise when he instructed you on how to change a car tire, fat fingers trailing your back as you sat in his lap, reading those books you loved a loud. Gruff voice praising after you had such an amazing day at work— as if you’d been the one to align everything so it could all work in your favor. ‘Good job doll, you’re doin well for yourself.”

Those underlying daddy issues would tear themselves out of you— like some junkie, you craved to hear his praises, feel it on your skin. It tingled the ivory inside you like a piano.

You tried taking your mind off it, throwing yourself into work, hanging out with your friends, doing a stream or two just to see if anyone showed up, get your mind straight so you wouldn’t be so dependent.

But giving a stray attention then yanking it away would be plain rude.

Your brain was in turmoil, front of your brain started to thunk, thunk, thunk from how much you were over thinking. To top it off, your father had called you just as you’d gotten done having lunch with some friends.

It’d be a long fucking night.

“No, I'm not moving back to the US just so I can be married off to someone stranger. Are you crazy?” You practically shrieked once you’d heard your stupid father on the other side of the call. No ‘hello,’ ‘how are you?’ ‘It’s been a while’ just straight bullshit.

Something about an arranged marriage with the son of a businessman he was trying to partner with. You wanted to punch him square in his jaw— ooooh calm down. You were okay. It’s perfectly fine.

“It’s for the betterment of your future, [+]. Why am I the only one who cares about that? You can’t go playing around with dogs all day—“

“I have serious clients dad, famous ones. Rich one’s. I’m not grooming dogs for nothing, even talked about opening my own place.” You tried. It was your dream, something not even your boss knew about. But Simon knew, in fact, he was the one who pushed you the most about really chasing after what you wanted. He had the most faith in you, and you yearned to hear him reassure you right now. Even if it was just him saying, ‘dont let those cunts get in your head, you’re my smart girl, aren’t ya? You know best.’

You would’ve killed to hear that right now.

Your father chastised, “A little grooming license isn’t a bachelors degree, is it?”

Oh. You blinked. He always had to take it there when he couldn’t get his way, because everything needed to go your father’s way or no one could be happy. You wiped your hand over your face in frustration, huffing as you continued on to your apartment, tuning out whatever the man was saying with ‘mmhm’.

Like a knight in shining armor but the opposing enemy, there the skull mask wearing man sat in his big black truck right in front of your apartment building. Simon didn’t even have to say anything when he caught your brown eyes, just motioned his head. ‘Come.’

Did he have to tell you twice?

You climbed in the car, heart pounding, not even listening to the words that were coming from the other side of the line because someone ten times more important had showed up.

“Where’ve you been?” He’d filled the cars silence in a hushed tone. Just enough so you could hear but your father couldn’t.

You fumbled around with your purse, looking at anything you could but the man beside you, “…You told me not to come over.”

“And you actually listened?” Simon griminced, eyebrow raised at you as he continued to drive.

Because usually, you’d show up even if you were the one who was mad. Ignoring him like he did you, even if you two were in the same space but you were still together. He’d still pull you in his arms, rubbing his head in the crevice of your neck because you were so damn cute with those eyebrows furrowed and pout.

“I didn’t wanna make you more upset this time.” You wanted to hide yourself but that truck left no room for it.

Well that didn’t work, did it? It just made him more annoyed. To the point Price had to tell him to ease up on the lower ranked soldiers during training. Even if he did push you away, you were a boomerang, always finding your way back to the older brute— a constant. You were a stray cat that would brush into Simon each time he gave you a little attention, a little food, a little love. And he liked it, his cute little thing that would ease his mind from everything even if you were a little annoying. Something to care for.

Like, a puppy? A kitten? No, more. Girlfriend? Of course. A step down to hell. His baby girl. His baby—

Before Simon could get another word out, the rambling from your phone the both of you were ignoring turned into yelling. His hand gripped the wheel with a scuff. Simon hated your father to say the very least, an annoying, prude that man was. He had a nasty habit of calling you and spewing utter bullshit in your ear, critiquing every little one of your life choices even though he didn’t raise you, didn’t pay for anything— he was just another entitled sperm donor. Simon had to tell you to hang up different times because he couldn’t stand someone talking to you like that.

It took Simon back to his own father, that abusive, psychopathic prick. Didn’t know what the hell he was doing with him and his younger brother, fucker always was on ballistic shit. Throwing things against the wall, putting his hands on anyone in that God forsaken house that breathed wrong, drinking non stop and the goddamn yelling. He didn’t want that for you— didn’t want to end up like that bastard. Simon cared about you too much, he wouldn’t let that happen. So in his fucked up way of caring, he’d push you away. Saying anything that came to mind, only meaning 61% what he actually said.

But that proved to be a new dead end.

Which led to a new resolution: he’d fix whatever issue went on in his head and keep you if it meant not having to see you very clearly, shut yourself down to cope or having to hear your annoying father talking down on you like an imbecile.

Ghost’s own head was reeling— he would never let anyone talk to you like you were an idiot. Couldn’t even imagine it. Yes, you were a little agitating, a little fucking dumb— but that was fixable. Nothing Daddy couldn’t fix. And if you trip and fall on your mistakes, the older man was right there to catch you. He’d refix your problems a thousand times over if he had to, why? Because he adored you to pieces.

But you weren’t an idiot, you can’t fix inherent incompetence.

His princess wasn’t incompetent.

That’s why every fuckin time you were on the phone with your father, which was already rare, he wanted to shove his booted foot right the man’s ass. Sew his asshole shut and keep feeding him, and feeding him, and feeding him. Water board the guy and show everyone how he was the fuckin embarrassment and not his sweet precious daughter—

Simon would try to hold whatever anger was festering this time because you, for your mothers sake, were trying to fix the relationship you didn’t break.

He was off the rocker, yes, but he’d get the shit together. Quick. Somehow. For you.

Be good, good, be good, be good—

“—And I bet you’re still fucking around with that ass aren’t you, [+]? You can be such a fucking idiot, it’s time to grow the hell up-“

You weren’t a fucking idiot. Never. If Simon didn’t call you that, what made anyone think they had the right to?

He didn’t hesitate to snatch the phone out of your hands, “—Are you out of your fuckin mind!?”

His voice boomed, filling the car, not even your father was talking anymore. The only sound that could be heard was the engine and the tires rolling on the pavement.

“Ya don’t say shit to your own kid for a decade but now you think you can run her life because you got some money in your pocket? Money you haven’t even spent a single pound on her—“ there was a quick muffled noise from the other side of the phone but Ghost was faster, “I’m disrespectful!? I wish I gave a shit about what you think of me or what I’m doin with your fuckin daughter. She’s with me for good reason.”

“—The next time you call you’d better have one foot in the grave or I’m gonna find you and make sure you do my fuckin self.” The blonde pressed the red button on the screen, a few more taps to block the man who, the blonde man had decided, wouldn’t be in your life.

After putting your phone in your lap, his hand immediately went to the back of your neck and letting out a deep breath, rubbing the baby hairs with his thumb. Soothing you. You saw Simon mouth move but you didn’t hear what came out of it. It was like your ears were shot just for a second, your heart beating loudly, you had wrapped yourself in a daze whenever you’d talk to your father and this had to be the first time someone not only yanked you out of it, but fully and undoubtedly protected you.

“Kid.” he barked, more profound.

Your big brown eyes snapped over to him, your brain finally catching up to what was happening in the moment.

“You’re okay, ‘s okay. I’ve got you, gonna take care ‘f you. Promise. You want that? Want me to take care of you, hm baby?” His voice was so soft, inviting, pulling you into whatever he’d had set for you in his mind.

How could you say no, when all you ever wanted was to be Simons?

“Yes sir.”

Famous last words.

Like you’d ignited a flame, his brown eyes flickered with mischief.

Ghost, the usual menace, rough man was being cloying with you.

Leaving gentle kisses all over as he made his was down to the heat in the middle of your legs. Big hands roaming the rest of your body as he slid your black, wet, underwear off, throwing your legs over his shoulders and giving a nice smooch to your cunt.

“So fuckin pretty baby, ‘s all for me?” His tongue slide up and down your vulva.

“Y-Yeah,” you said breathlessly, eyes fluttering shut as Ghost lapped up every juice that was coming out of you.

The older man scuffed, slipping a finger inside your tight walls and slowly thrusting them. “ ‘yeah’? That’s all you gotta say? Don’t be stubborn with me doll, wanna be nice to you today.”

You felt a pinch to your thigh, a warning, “keep those pretty eyes on me swee’art, need you focused on me.”

Your head tilted itself to the side, nodding your head and biting your lip to contain your moan but it’s barely doing anything as you watch Simon slip another fat finger into you, pumping his fingers faster and finally going up to your clit, taking a little nibble of it and then talking it in his mouth.

“Fu- mmm- fuuuck- wait- Si- I- can I cum? Please? Can I?” You whimpered, peeking down at the brown eyes that were stuck on you. Ghost was smirking, almost enough to get a laugh out of him.

“Course baby, bein so good. Can cum as much as you want today.” His fingers curled just right at the perfect spot inside you and your walls flutter around his fingers. But he’s not stopping, course he’s not, the man has to get a good taste of you, get you cumming with his fingers, without his fingers, without sucking your clit— he sucking out every drop that leaves your cunt.

Ghost was taking his sweet time, as if you didn’t need him inside you desperately. You were aching for more after cumming a fourth time, bucking your hips only for Ghost to press down on them to keep you still.

He pulled his mouth away from you, face covered in your slick, “Jesus baby, cut it out, will you? Thought you wanted Daddy to take care of you?”

“D-do, I do. It’s just- just-“

“Don’t tell me you’re not used to it.” His ends of his lips turned up into a smirk, teasing, fingers rubbing your clit just enough to keep you wanting more yet slow enough to keep your attention only on him.

No. No you weren’t. He’d known that.

Simon usually manhandled you every which way and any position he wanted you in. Edging you as much as he wanted then giving it to you deep and leaving you breathless at every moment. And it’s not like you hated it, you loved every second of it. But this- this situation made your brain melt.

The older man just looooved that.

“Give me another, let me feel it.” His hands went to grope your tits, squeezing and pulling at them as he rubbed his face further into your pussy, completely devouring you whole. The blonde slid his long tongue back inside your hole, thrusting it just right. The man groaned as you pulsed around him, somehow getting sweeter as you fell apart.

He kept touching all over you, the curve your breasts, the peak of your nipples, the dips in your hips and thighs— ever so softly. As if he was revisiting a map he’d known like the back of his hand, making sure he knew every nook and cranny of you, the cause of every twitch, shake, and moan, the reason slick kept flowing down onto his tongue.

Why?

Well a good Daddy just had to know his baby well, shouldn’t he?

You should’ve known, there was no way Simon would ever be nice and go easy on you the whole time he was fucking you. But you were being silly, fantasizing about him slipping inside you and being gentle.

Your mistake for thinking a man so large in size, so brutal with words, with the biggest and fattest dick you’ve ever seen in your life would ever treat your poor pussy kindly :(. You always looked so perfect when he had you crying, so easy to bully, Ghost just couldn’t help himself.

“Si- Simon!” You yelped out, as he finally bottomed out inside your pink walls that were gonna chop his manhood off. He’d had you stuck in an inescapable full nelson, legs spread wide open and beefy arms hooked under knees, forcing your head down to look at the disappearing act of the century happening with his cock and your cunt.

“Look at the fuckin mess you’re makin kiddo, gonna get my thighs wet at this rate.” Ghost was plopping you up and down, up and down on his length, the loud sloshing sound of your sopping wet pussy filling the room.

“No- Si- aangh- it’s too much!” And it’s not like you could even push any of him away, as he thrusted up into you, making sure you took every single inch imaginable.

“Such a fuckin liar baby. What a fuckin liar you are, ‘nd you don’t think I’ve fuckin noticed that you won’t call me how you’re supposed to? Huh? Didn’t teach you to lie like that, did I?”

You’d internally cursed, slapping at his hand for some relief but your mouth only letting out moans. Yes, you were avoiding calling him ‘daddy,’ even though you’d call him that casually, it felt so off today after your falling out with your father. It made your head spin, because it wasn’t just a nickname anymore.

You were craving the missing hole you’ve been ignoring this whole time, to be filled with the man fucking you like a slut in his big arms.

“Told you I’d take care of ya, didn’t I princess? Promised you I’d be reaalll good to ya but— shit, your squeezing the life outta me— can’t be nice if you don’t treat your own daddy proper, can I?” You moaned at his words, shaking your head because this man was gonna make you go insane, tonight. Pushing you past the point of no return, and no, he wouldn’t let go of your hand while he’d did it.

He’d hold your hand and jump with you.

“Come on, call me how you’re ‘posed to kid.” He grunted in you ear, sucking on your earlobe, “Call the only man you’ll ever need, the man who’s fuckin your pretty pussy right, know you want to. Come on.”

He was egging on that delusion that sat, triple boxed up and in the farthest corner of your mind of your mind. Teasing, taunting you, probing at the thought that you swore you locked away that one time it slipped out of you mid conversation months ago.

But Simon remembered. In fact, he’d just needed the ‘okay’ from your plump lips because he longed to hear you call him that oh so sweet yet oh so sinful name once more. He wanted to be your number one. The man you relied on, someone that would never leave you like your father did. Better than your father, better than any one of those little boys you’d fool around with in the past. Damn it, and it was making you wetter.

“Paaa! You feel so good pa!” You mewled, throwing your head back on his shoulder in pleasure.

You felt that maniacal grin form on Ghosts lips on your shoulder, leaving a kiss on your neck— he was proud of you. It tickled something in his brain, scratched the exact spot where his own daddy issues lay. He wasn’t new to hearing a sex partner call him daddy during sex, maybe he exuded that energy— it was in his blood, Ghost didn’t know. But you just kept pushing the line, accidentally calling him that magic word when he’d praise you. And it stuck. You’d call him daddy like it was second nature. Looking up at him with those pretty brown eyes, obediently listening to whatever he had to say. That’s what all the fucking clingy shit was about, the needy, desperation of it all.

Wanting a father figure from a hell raiser— it was arranged. You were a good girl. Ghosts good little girl.

“Therrre you go princess, atta girl! Doin so good for me, cum on your daddy’s dick. Show me how good you are baby, milk me dry.”

You shook your head, belligerent sobs escaping you. You couldn’t believe you’d just call him that, of all things. And you tried to retract it, whining your way through your orgasm that left you trembling, Simon himself filling your tight cunt with every bit cum that sat in his balls.

“I- I- hicc- I didn’t mean to call you- hicc- I’m sorry.” You blabbered out, how sweet. How cute, you were trying to collect yourself. He pulled out of you with a roll of his eyes, flipping you onto your stomach, rubbing the tip against your hole that was leaking with the both of your cum. What a miraculous sight.

“No, baby you did. Don’t worry that pretty little head,” he cooed, slipping his dick back inside you, groaning at the feel of you. “pa’s got you.”

“Come on doll, wanna hear you,” He rocked his hips into you, the room filling with the smack, smack, smack, smacking of his balls hitting your wet pussy, ripples forming on your ass with every thrust.

Your brain was turning to mush, drool forming and dripping down the sheets of the bed. The only thing you were able to think of was daddy, daddy, daddy, pa, pa, pa. How good your pa was drilling into you like a maniac.

Simon’s hand wrapped around your curly hair, dragging you up to your knees as he continued to ram into you, “This allll my sweet little girl needed? Your pa to take care of you like a good daddy should. Fuck, that bastard couldn’t treat you right could he? Show you how a man’s supposed to treat you, huh?”

“Noooo sir- nghhh.” you keened, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

“Tha’s right princess, don’t worry though— I love you. Your pa loves you soooo. fuckin. much baby. No one’s gonna love you more than me.”

Those words alone is what set off your next orgasm, he was talking crazy, actually. And you loved every second of it, back arching even more so as you pulsated around his throbbing cock. He was still thrusting into you chasing his own orgasm, a string of curses leaving his mouth as you felt the tip of him spasm. He made you so full of him, you’d felt so warm all over.

“Shit, such a good girl for me, gonna take such good care of you from now. What do ya say?” He took you in his arms, laying you on top of him. You could feel his heart beating, chest heaving. Both of your skin sticky with sweat.

“Thank you pa.” You wrapped your arms him.

“Oh princess,” Ghost smiled, pressing his lips against yours, cupping your face with one hand and caressing it with his thumb, “you’re so welcome.”

a/n: it’s three people who are gonna read all this, me being one of them. If you liked it leave me a message or comment. If you hated it, idk. I’m just a big dadbf!simon enthusiast.

most recent masterlist.

[xjulixred45x]

I could't contain myself guys sorry--

Bro, do you realize how scary it would be to have Vox as a Yandere?

just imagine it. You could be one of his workers, maybe too good at your job, because not only do you do what Vox tells you without asking questions, but you also know what to say and what not to say to avoid a "tantrum" from him. or rather, when his insecurities attack with force like when Alastor returns.

Vox would probably be a somewhat condescending yandere (as seen with Val) but don't think you can't turn tables easily, if you stroke his ego enough, you can have him around your finger. but that doesn't make it any less dangerous for those around you.

He makes the typical 180 degree turn in attitude when it comes to Other Employees and when it comes to You. Damn, you may be the only one of his employees who gets paid vacations (or even vacations) or even birthday bonuses, things like that. He likes to give you his things or products with the excuse that "they are for testing" even if they have already been released on the market.

Like:

Vox: who the fuck eat My leftovers!?! WHENEVER WHO WAS I'M GOING TO-

Darling: it was me sir.

Vox:--give You the rest and take You out for lunch, You haven't eaten in the whole day AGAIN, didn't ya?

He definitely avoids conflict with you by hypnotizing you, when he starts to feel hostility, fear on your part or that you want to leave, he makes you "out of nowhere" have "ONE MORE TASK" and you can't help but do what he says.

and IT IS NOT just to avoid fights or for you to leave, it is something CONSTANT (once every two days MINIMUM), although Vox is not worried about your brain turning into mush due to its powers, it always keeps nutritious things in your diet and they come out relatively often , as you have to follow him everywhere.

Eventually he becomes more clingy and needy in this case, it's practically not that he's proposing to you or anything, he's just slowly dragging you into a relationship without you realizing it (because you're not lucid enough). Unless you develop a higher level of tolerance to his hypotonic trick, I don't think you'll notice his Red Flags.

I think it would be ESPECIALLY BAD if Darling is also a Sinner, because then they wouldn't even be able to get out of the pride ring to run away from Vox. leaving you with many fewer options and having to avoid all of Vox's technology, which you could only achieve by 1- going to the Cannibal Legion or 2- going to the Hazbin Hotel.

Running away is EXTREMELY DIFFICULT, not only because of his hypnotic trick, but because he literally has EYES EVERYWHERE, on every screen in hell. If you somehow manage to get away with it and run away, Vox would be SO ANGRY and looking for you all over hell with their screens.

Although definitely if you were gone more than a day, he would be more distraught than angry and would begin to despair. Even Val and Velvet would give him a hand because of how bad it would be.

Just imagine, thinking that you finally lost sight of Vox's search drones, without realizing that you stand in front of some store and VOX ITSELF appears on the screens :)

If you made the stupid decision to go to the Hazbin Hotel, Vox would be distraught and would even think that Alastor was somehow holding you hostage, obviously! Why would you go there if you knew his biggest enemy was there? Alastor must be using you as a bargaining chip! How dare he!?

(in this case, fortunately, the punishment is much less severe, but he would definitely monitor you for the rest of your life)

When he eventually gets you back (after a few days or even WEEKS of anguish) expect, first of all, to be in a mortal embrace that lasts AT LEAST 2 days and then receive your "punishment" which would be to be under hypnosis for AT LEAST 1 YEAR to be sure that this NEVER HAPPENS AGAIN.

Although calm down! He gives your mind breaks periodically because 1- he doesn't know if that would ultimate mess with your head and 2- it's nice to hear YOU talk instead of the robotic version.

When that year FINALLY ends, you will be a much more obedient, more terrified, sweeter version of You, according to Vox, like a frightened Deer. It was a long and hard process, but the good thing is that you don't have to do anything anymore! absolutely! Just do what he tells you and everything will be fine.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

Not one of the Best yanderes to have, but Def not the worst

[woniedarlin]

The Price of Perfection

pairing: Academic Rival! Jake x fem! reader

synopsis: You are always first. The one everyone expects to win. Confident, prideful, and untouchable. People admire you, envy you, resent you. But it doesn’t matter because in the end, you always prove them right. Then you go home. And first place isn’t enough. Second is unacceptable. Third is a disgrace. Anything less is failure. But then there’s Jake. Jake, who wins because he loves to. Jake, who has everything you don’t.

And the moment he looked past the perfect image you built, everything began to change.

warnings: This story contains themes of parental neglect, emotional abuse, academic pressure, and self-doubt. It covers on inadequacy, angst, and emotional breakdowns, but also slow-burn romance and comfort. Read at your own risk.

author's note: This story is deeply personal to me. It’s the first time I’ve poured so much emotion into something. If you relate to any part of this, please remember: you are enough. Always. Thank you for reading.

permanent tag list: @sol3chu @chlorinecake @13tter @jung1w0n @layzfy @firstclassjaylee @ijustwannareadstuff20

The cameras flashed. The medal's weight around your neck was heavier than it should’ve been. Gold, cold, undeserved. Applauses were loud.

You smiled. Of course you did. It was the expression expected of a champion. Graceful, composed, proud. You had practiced it enough times in the mirror, so much so that it no longer hesitated. You let the corners of your lips go upward just right, enough to appear humble but not so much that you seemed arrogant. Enough to sell the illusion that this victory was yours to enjoy.

Your parents stood at the front of the crowd. Their hands clapped the loudest, and their smiles stretched the widest. They shook hands, nodded in gratitude, and took every compliment thrown their way as if they were the ones who had spent sleepless nights preparing. As if they were the ones who had earned this. “We’re so proud,” they had said when your name was announced. “You did it.”

Did what, exactly?

You stood there as the flashes went off, the cheers rang in your ears, and your parents continued to receive congratulations on your behalf. You stood there and dared to look down.

Second place was crying.

Not just the silent kind, not the polite, quiet tears of someone accepting defeat, but the kind that came from deep inside, that cracked a person open. Their shoulders trembled as they looked down at their silver medal, fingers curling around it so tightly you thought it might shatter.

And then there were the others. The ones who had fought, who had given everything, who had wanted this much more than you ever did. Some stood stiffly, disappointment carved into their faces, blinking back the loss with forced indifference. Others stared blankly at the floor, avoiding your gaze because looking at you only deepened the wound.

It didn’t feel good.

It never did.

Taking something that wasn’t yours to take, crushing someone’s dreams just because you could. It didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel right.

And maybe it wouldn’t have felt so hollow if this had been your dream. If you had wanted this as badly as they did. If you had fought, struggled, and clawed your way to the top because it was something you couldn’t live without. But that wasn’t the case.

You had never wanted this.

But you won anyway.

And that was the worst part of it all.

🪢

The hallway was full of students moving in clusters. Conversations were overlapping, and lockers were slamming shut. Same faces, same voices, same excitement over things that would be forgotten by next week. You walked through the center of it all, and people noticed you without needing to say anything. Whispers followed you, talking about your latest win and how easily you had secured another first-place title. People admired you, but bitterness and jealousy were hidden behind their forced smiles.

“Look who’s finally back from their throne,” a familiar voice called out, loud enough to turn a few heads. A heavy arm slung over your shoulder before you could react. It was Seojin, one of your so-called friends, though that word had lost its meaning a long time ago. He grinned down at you, his smile wide. There was something in his face that made it clear he wasn’t celebrating you.

You scoffed, shrugging his arm off easily, adjusting your bag strap as his touch had thrown off your balance. “What, miss me already?” Your voice was light enough to remind him where you stood in this hierarchy. “You should get used to it. Winners are always busy.”

Laughter spread through the group gathered around you. A few people exchanged glances, nodding as if they agreed with each other, truly believing you were unstoppable. Seojin laughed and tucked his hands into his pockets. “Busy collecting more trophies, huh? I have to say, it must be tiring being the best at everything.”

You smirked. “Wouldn’t know. It comes naturally.”

Immediately, the group reacted with a chorus of “oohs” and chuckles. Another voice joined in. “You looked like you belonged on that stage. I mean, holding that trophy, you seemed made for it.” Jihoon added.

For just a moment, your smile faded a little.

“Made for it.”

Those words should have felt like a compliment but instead felt like a reminder. A cage.

But you couldn’t let them see that. So, you laughed easily, like every other lie. “Of course I did,” you said, flipping your hair over your shoulder. “I make everything look good.”

More laughter followed. More voices joined in. More noise.

You kept up this act because it felt natural now. This confident version of yourself, who never had doubts. This group, these people, this constant game of who could seem the most untouchable. It was tiring.

And none of them were even your friends.

They were here because your name meant something. Because standing next to you made them look better. Because being associated with a winner was better than being another nameless face in the crowd.

Some people called you cocky.

Maybe they were right.

Or maybe you just played the part because it was the only thing you knew how to do.

The moment you stepped into the next hallway, the energy shifted. The laughter, the background noise of your so-called friends. It all faded into something heavier. Because there he was.

Sim Jaeyun, or Jake as most would call, was the person who never treated you like a high-status figure. He didn’t feel any pressure from your name. He was a real threat and didn’t even have to try. While you acted like a confident champion, enjoying victories you didn’t care about, Jake was different. He truly wanted this, and that made things more complicated for you.

Unlike you, he was genuinely passionate. He stayed up late studying, not to keep up his image, but because he loved learning. He was brilliant but never showed off. He made people feel comfortable around him. Your presence was sharp and demanding, while he was warm and easygoing. Your so-called friends stuck to you for your status. In contrast, Jake’s friends liked him for who he was, not his achievements. His parents didn’t take credit for his success. They supported him and celebrated his efforts, not just the results.

You had everything. Yet somehow, he had everything you wanted.

And maybe that was why you hated him.

Or maybe you didn’t.

Maybe you didn’t know what to do with him.

Jake looked up as you walked toward him. His face was hard to read. You both seemed very different. You wore an arrogant smirk, surrounded by people who only stuck around when you won. He stood there relaxed, with his friends laughing at a joke you hadn’t heard.

But you needed to keep up your image.

“You seem pretty relaxed for someone who lost yesterday.” You said.

Jake paused his conversation and looked at you, his friends noticing you too. He met your gaze, and his smile was small and genuine momentarily, not bitter or angry. It made you feel like entering a game without knowing the rules. “And you,” he replied, “look a bit worried for someone who won.”

For a moment, your confidence almost falters. Almost. But you quickly kept your expression smooth. “Worried? Not at all. I barely broke a sweat.” You let out a short laugh and raised an eyebrow. “Honestly, you put up a good fight. I almost thought you had a shot.”

Jake kept looking at you. He didn’t react the way others usually did. Instead, he took his time before responding. “Almost, huh?” He spoke as he was contemplating your words. He studied you, and for once, you felt like the one being examined. “I guess I’ll have to try harder next time.”

You scoffed and crossed your arms, shifting your weight to show confidence. “Go ahead. We both know how this usually turns out.”

His lips turned into a slight grin, neither a smirk nor a laugh. “We’ll see.”

It wasn’t a challenge or bragging. It was just a simple statement from someone who seemed to believe that the future was unpredictable. For some reason, that feeling shook you more than anything.

People like you were not supposed to hesitate. People like you were not supposed to let doubt creep in.

But Jake Sim had a way of making you feel uncertain.

You weren’t even sure if he noticed.

🪢

The moment you stepped outside the school gates, you were still the person everyone expected.

You smiled, laughed, and stood tall.

Your so-called friends hung around you, stretching out their goodbyes. They gave half-hearted compliments and exaggerated praise about your latest win. You nodded along, pretending their words mattered. You let them talk, enjoying the moment before you walked away, climbed into the waiting car, and left them behind for the day.

As soon as the car door shut, the act ended.

The silence weighed heavily. The outside noise turned into a dull hum and was muffled by the thick glass. Your confident expression finally dropped. There would be no more forced smiles or sharp comments.

Just quiet.

Your older brother, Jay, was already in the backseat, sitting comfortably with his long legs stretched out. He looked calm, as usual. When you settled beside him, he glanced up from his phone and met your eyes. “Hey,” he said, relaxed.

You hummed back, leaning against the seat and feeling your exhaustion set in.

“How was school?” Jay asked. He asked because he always wanted to hear it from you, even if he knew the answer.

“It was alright,” you replied. It was the most straightforward answer.

Jay didn’t respond right away. He studied you momentarily, his fingers tapping his phone, deciding whether to call you out on your lie. In the end, he didn’t press you. He never did.

The car started moving away from the school, and with it, the image you had kept up faded. You watched the students outside continue their laughter and conversations. What felt suffocating just moments ago now seemed far away.

No one at school knew this version of you.

You didn’t speak unless someone spoke to you. You didn’t fill silences with witty remarks or smug comments. You didn’t carry the weight of expectations. You didn’t feel like you were performing.

At school, you were never quiet. You were always loud and talking, making sure everyone noticed you. Being quiet meant giving others space to think and see through you.

But in the car, you didn’t have to fill the silence.

In the car, you could just be you.

So, you let the quiet settle. You relaxed your shoulders. You stared out the window, watching the city blur, knowing you could just be yourself for the next twenty minutes.

Jay didn’t say anything else. He lets you sit in silence and take it in. And that was enough.

🪢

The moment you stepped into the house, you already knew something was wrong. The air was too tense. Too quiet. You barely had time to take off your shoes before your mother called your name. You could tell something was wrong. You always knew when it was.

Your father was already in the living room, which made it clear there would be no discussion. Your mother stood next to him, looking exhausted and grim. “You didn’t sign up,” she said. It wasn't a question or an accusation. Just a fact. They already knew the answer before you walked in.

Your stomach dropped. Of course.

You had tried not to mention the competition and hoped they wouldn't notice when the deadline passed. You thought, maybe for once, they would let it go.

But they didn’t.

“You didn’t even try,” your father said sharply with his piercing gaze. “We had to call them ourselves. We begged them to let you in after registration closed.”

Begged.

That word felt heavy and suffocating. Your well-respected parents had to use their influence and name because you didn't do what was expected. Your mother sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you know how embarrassing that was? Do you even care?”

“I just won a championship,” you replied. You didn't raise it or show your fatigue, but it was hard not to let it show. “Why does it matter if I skip this one?”

Your father shook his head in disbelief. “Why does it matter?” he repeated, astonished that you would even ask. “Do you think success ends with one win? That one victory is enough?”

Your mother stepped forward, her face showing disappointment and frustration. “Do you realize how many doors this could open for you? How many people would do anything for a chance like this?”

You knew because you had seen those students who wanted it badly. They cried when they lost and studied late into the night, chasing something that was handed to you.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re competing,” your father said firmly. “End of discussion.”

There it was. They made the decision for you, as usual.

Your mother sighed and rubbed her temples. “We already submitted your name. The least you can do is show some gratitude.”

Gratitude.

You swallowed the bitterness rising in your throat.

There was nothing left to say.

So, you nodded. You nodded because it was easier than fighting. Because no matter what you wanted, it never really mattered.

Because, at the end of the day, this was the life you had been given.

And no matter how much you wanted to, you could never escape it.

“I’m sorry,” you said with the words barely escaping past the tightness in your throat.

Your father scoffed, turning away because your apology wasn’t worth acknowledging. Your mother sighed before walking past you, her hand lightly brushing against your shoulder, not as a sign of comfort but as if she were dismissing you.

And just like that, the conversation was over.

Because in this house, your choices didn’t matter.

Only the results did.

🪢

Everything in the dining room was arranged perfectly. The food was carefully portioned. It looked beautiful, but it tasted like nothing to you. You sat still, your back straight, moving your fork absently, pushing the food around rather than eating it. The conversation between your parents was casual, even. But you knew where this was going before they even said it.

Then, there it was.

“Jake placed first in the regional math competition,” your father said as he cut into his steak. “I spoke to his father earlier today. Apparently, he not only won, but he beat last year’s champion by a huge margin.”

The muscles in your jaw tightened. You knew better than to look up.

Your mother hummed, sipping her wine before delicately setting the glass down. “I’m not surprised,” she said, dabbing with a napkin at the corner of her lips. “Jake’s always been a hardworking boy. So polite, too. His mother told me he spends extra hours studying every night without being told. He even tutors younger students in his free time.” She sighed, shaking her head, almost wistful.

“You could learn a thing or two from him.”

You knew it was coming.

That didn’t make it any easier to hear.

Your grip on your fork tightened, your fingers pressing into the cool metal. You didn’t lift your head. Didn’t argue. Didn’t say anything at all.

Your father continued, “Jake doesn’t have everything handed to him,” he said, placing his knife down with a soft clink. “And yet, he’s still doing better than you.”

The words sat heavy in the air, heavier than the food sitting untouched on your plate. Jay, who had been quiet up until now, let out a sharp exhale. He placed his utensils down with more force than necessary, the sound cutting through the tension in the room. “You’re acting like she’s not already winning every other competition,” He spoke calmly, but you could hear a tension in his voice that only you noticed. “Maybe, instead of comparing her to someone else, you should acknowledge what she had done. Instead of acting like it’s never enough.”

Your mother shook her head, seeing what he said was unreasonable. “That’s not the point, Jay,” she said sharply.

“Then what is the point?” Jay shot back. He looked directly at them. “That no matter how much she achieves, it’s still not enough for you?”

Your father turned to him. He didn���t get angry. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “You wouldn’t understand,” he said as if that was the end of it. As if that was all that needed to be said.

And just like that, the discussion was over.

There was no room for argument. There is no room for anything.

Your parents continued eating, their conversation turning to something lighter, meaningless, as if the weight of their words hadn’t just settled in your chest like a stone. It was as if they hadn’t reminded you once again that you were still not enough. You forced yourself to take a bite, chewing slowly, swallowing past the lump in your throat.

Jay glanced at you from across the table, his expression softer now, but he didn’t say anything else.

Because he knew, just as you did, that there was nothing left to say.

🪢

Jake didn’t think about you much. Not in the way others did.

To everyone else, you were a name that carried weight, a student who stood at the top without fail. People whispered about you in the halls. Some with admiration, some with jealousy. You had everything. The grades, the reputation, the influence. And you knew it. You walked through the school like it belonged to you, like everyone else was just a step below, trying to catch up.

Jake never had to catch up.

He had always been fine where he was. He worked hard, he did well, and that was enough. He didn’t need to stand on a podium to prove anything. His parents were proud whether he won or not. His friends didn’t care if he was in first place or fifth. His achievements were his, not something for others to measure their worth against.

That was the difference between you and him.

You acted like everything was a competition. Every test, every ranking, every moment you could use to remind people where you stood. It was almost entertaining sometimes. The way you smirked when your name was called first, the way you barely spared a glance at the people below you.

People always assumed the two of you were enemies. The belief that academic rivals are destined to despise each other. But Jake never really hated you.

He didn’t respect you either.

Because arrogance didn’t impress him.

So, when he passed by you in the hallway, watching as you threw an arm around your so-called friends, laughing too loudly, standing too tall. He didn’t feel envy. He didn’t feel admiration.

He just felt nothing.

And if you ever turned your gaze his way, lips twisting into that confident smirk, daring him to try and take your place at the top. He only ever smiled back, easy, unbothered.

Because, unlike you, he had nothing to prove.

🪢

The room was silent except for the clicking of keyboards and the scratch of pens against paper. The weight of expectation pressing down on your shoulders. Your fingers flew across the page, solving, calculating, writing. Each answer had to be perfect. Each step is precise.

You couldn’t afford to be slow.

You glanced at the timer. Two minutes left.

Your heartbeat pounded fast. Your breathing was shallow. You could hear the clock ticking. It's louder than it should be. Your grip on the pen tightened until your knuckles turned white.

One last question.

Your eyes looked at the numbers on the screen. You ran through the calculations in your head, fingers trembling as you wrote them down on the paper.

Something didn’t feel right.

You double-checked. No, no, no. This wasn’t what it was supposed to be. You rewrote the equation, erasing and correcting. The answer wouldn’t come out right. The numbers blurred together, your mind racing faster than you could keep up.

Your hands were sweating.

One minute.

You swallowed hard. This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t-

Your hand slipped. The pen streaked across the page, ink smudging. You cursed under your breath, hastily fixing the mess, but-

Thirty seconds.

Shit

Shit

Shit

Your breath hitched. You were running out of time. You forced yourself to write down the answer, even if you weren’t sure. You couldn’t leave it blank. You couldn’t-

Five seconds.

Your eyes darted to the scoreboard.

Jake’s score was higher.

Your stomach dropped.

No.

The timer beeped.

The competition was over.

Jake had won.

🪢

This is what it feels like.

To be second.

The cameras flashed, but they weren’t for you this time. Your lips twitched, struggling to form the familiar, practiced smile. It was supposed to be easy. You had done it a thousand times before, in every victory and moment you stood at the top.

But this time, you couldn’t.

You stood there, trophy in hand, a step lower than ever. A step below Jake.

Jake, who stood on the podium above you, smiling. Genuine, effortless, like he belonged there. His name was called, his score announced, and the crowd cheered. His parents were among them, their voices the loudest, their pride so clear. His friends clapped, laughing, celebrating with him.

You swallowed hard.

Your eyes looked to where your parents sat.

They weren’t clapping.

They weren’t smiling.

They weren’t doing anything.

Their faces were blank, unreadable, but that only made it worse. It would have been easier if they were angry, if they scolded you, demanded answers, questioned why you weren’t standing where you were supposed to be.

But they didn’t.

They just watched.

And somehow, that silence crushed you more than any words ever could.

You turned back to Jake, forcing yourself to look. He was still smiling, still happy, still surrounded by people who were happy for him.

You had never been jealous of him before.

But now?

Now, you wished you knew what it felt like to win and actually deserve it.

🪢

The medal was cold against his skin. But his heart was warm.

Warm from the embrace of his parents, their arms wrapped tightly around him, their voices with nothing but pride. Warm from his mother’s teary smile as she cupped his face, whispering you did so well. Warm from his father’s hearty laughter, the way he clapped him on the back and said, we knew you could do it, son.

Warm from the cheers of his friends, their voices overlapping, already talking about celebrating, about how Jake had earned this.

It felt good.

Not just winning. But knowing, truly knowing, that he deserved this moment. That the people around him were happy for him, not because of what he had achieved, but because it was him. “Excuse me for a second,” Jake murmured, offering them a smile before stepping away. The main hall was busy with flashing cameras and loud applause. He just needed a breather, a moment to let it all sink in.

But as he walked toward the quieter side of the building, his steps slowed.

He saw you.

And it wasn’t at all how he expected.

Your father stood in front of you, voice low but strict. Your mother was beside him, her arms crossed, her words quieter but no less cruel.

You didn’t look at them.

Your head was bowed, your hands clasped so tightly in front of you that your knuckles had turned white.

Jake stopped in his tracks.

For as long as he had known you, you had never looked like this before.

You, who always carried yourself with that arrogant smirk. You, who always made everything a competition, never settling for anything less than first. You, who always acted like winning was your right.

Now, you looked-

No. You didn’t look like anything at all.

Your face was blank. Your shoulders stiff. Like you had frozen in place, unable to move, unable to fight back.

And then-

Your father exhaled. “Embarrassing.” His voice was something worse than anger. More like disgust. “Do you have any idea how humiliating this is for us?”

“Second place?” Your mother scoffed. “Do you think that’s acceptable? After everything we did for you?”

Jake clenched his jaw.

It was the way they spoke. Like you had failed them. Like coming in second was the same as losing entirely. Like you were nothing more than a disappointment.

And then it happened.

Your father reached forward, fingers gripping the silver medal around your neck. Without hesitation, without a second thought-

He ripped it off.

The thin ribbon snapped. The medal clinked against his wedding ring, slipping from his fingers-

Into the trash.

Jake felt sick to his stomach

You didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

Didn’t even look at it.

Like it wasn’t even there.

Like it never mattered.

Your parents didn’t wait for you. They turned, walking away, their faces unreadable, like this was routine. Like they had done this before.

And you-

You followed.

Quiet. Expressionless.

Like you weren’t even there.

Jake couldn’t move.

His hands tightened into fists. His mind raced, trying to make sense of what he had just witnessed.

Was this… normal for you?

Had this been happening every time you lost?

No. Jake knew you. He knew your pride, your arrogance, the way you carried yourself with confidence.

But was it ever real?

Jake had never questioned what was behind your smirks, your constant need to be first.

Not until now.

🪢

Your bedroom was dark. You sat at the edge of your bed, staring at nothing.

You should be crying.

Shouldn’t you?

But you felt nothing.

Not anger. Not sadness. Not even disappointment.

Just… numbness.

Jay knelt in front of you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. His warmth covered your skin, but it didn’t reach the coldness inside. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, like he always did when things felt too heavy, when you came home and locked yourself away, and when the weight of expectations became too much to carry alone.

His embrace was the only thing tethering you to reality.

And it hurt.

Because Jay was all you had.

The only person who saw you for more than just a name. The only person who didn’t care if you were first or second or last.

The only person who stayed.

“…I’m proud of you,” Jay whispered. His voice was calm, but there was something fragile in the way he held you. He was afraid you’d shatter. “No matter what, I always am.”

Your hands clenched the fabric of his sweater, but you still didn’t speak.

Because what was there to say?

That you never wanted any of this?

That winning had never been your dream?

That you were tired. So, so tired of being the person everyone expected you to be?

That when your father threw your medal away, he wasn’t just throwing away an award. He was throwing away you.

Jay pulled back slightly,

“Get some rest,” he murmured. “Please.”

You knew you wouldn’t.

Because even with your eyes closed, the weight of it all would still be there.

Pressing. Crushing.

Never letting go.

🪢

You had been walking through life on autopilot for as long as you could remember.

Winning, smiling, shaking hands, collecting medals like they meant something. Like they made you something. It was a routine now. Just another thing you did because it was expected. Because that was who you were supposed to be. And yet, standing at the podium while staring at Jake Sim of all people, you felt something you hadn’t felt in a long time.

Exposed.

You weren’t sure why you were still here. The hallway was empty. The competition had ended yesterday. The results had already been burned into everyone’s minds.

Jake won. You didn’t.

Simple as that.

But it wasn’t simple. Not when you could still hear the sound of your father’s voice slicing through your ribs, carving up whatever was left of you. Not when you could still see the silver medal at the bottom of that trash can.

Jake’s voice cut through the silence.

“You don’t look happy.”

Oh, he’s here too.

You scoffed. “You sound surprised.”

“I thought winning was everything to you.”

Your fingers twitched at your sides. “Yeah, well. First time for everything.”

“You don’t seem that upset about losing.”

That made you look at him. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t smug. He was just… watching. Like he had been watching all night.

“What are you getting at, Sim?”

Jake looked at you. “I saw what happened.”

The world around you blurred.

You furrowed your eyebrows. “What?”

“Outside. After the competition.” He tilted his head. “I saw your father.”

“I saw him throw your medal away.”

You wanted to laugh. To brush it off. To say so what? But the words wouldn’t come.

He continued. “That wasn’t the first time, was it?”

You swallowed, “Mind your own business, Jake.”

He didn’t back down. “I see you now.”

Your nails dug into your palms. “And what exactly do you think you saw?”

“Someone who’s exhausted.”

A slow, bitter smile appeared on your lips. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

“Maybe,” he said. “But I know what it looks like when someone’s been forced to win their whole life. And I know what it looks like when they finally realize they don’t want to anymore.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, before you could stop yourself, before you could shove the words back down. Your voice slipped out, quieter than you intended.

“What would you have done?”

Jake blinked. “What?”

You clenched your jaw. “If you were me. If you had my parents, my life, my expectations. What would you have done?”

His expression changed. Softer. Almost… sad.

“I don’t know.”

You huffed out a bitter laugh. “That’s what I thought.”

Jake didn’t argue. He just watched you like he was waiting for you to say something real.

But you didn’t.

Because you didn’t know how.

So instead, you did what you always did.

You turned and walked away.

🪢

The sun was beginning to set. Jay had just stepped out of a convenience store, a cold soda in hand, when he heard someone call his name.

“Jay?”

He turned, barely catching a glimpse before an arm wrapped around his shoulder in a quick bro hug. “Jake, man!” Jay grinned, giving him a solid pat on the back before stepping away. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

Jake smirked. “Yeah, I was just passing by. You headed somewhere?”

“Nah, just grabbing something to drink before going home.”

Jake glanced at the can in Jay’s hand and grinned. “Still hooked on soda, huh?”

“Still better than your overpriced coffee addiction,” Jay shot back.

Jake let out a laugh. “Fair.”

They found a bench nearby and sat down, cracking open their drinks. “Man, feels like forever since we just sat down like this,” Jay said, taking a sip. “Like when we were younger. Back when drinking soda made us feel cool.”

“Still does,” Jake replied, and they both chuckled.

The conversation was easy. They talked about random things. Old friends, stupid childhood memories, how fast time was passing. But then Jake’s playful energy in his eyes dimmed just slightly.

“Jay… can I ask you something?”

Jay raised a brow. “Since when do you ask permission?”

Jake didn’t laugh this time. His fingers tapped against his can. “It’s about your sister.”

Jay’s smile faded.

“What about her?”

Jake hesitated, just for a second, but long enough for Jay to notice.

“I saw…” Jake paused. “Never mind.”

But Jay already knew.

The way Jake wouldn’t meet his eyes.

Jay set his drink down, voice calm but firm.

“What did you see, Jake?”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He looked like he was deciding whether to speak at all. Jay didn’t rush him. Finally, Jake continued. “After the competition… I saw her with your parents.”

Jay didn’t react, not outwardly. He just kept his gaze on Jake. Jake hesitated, but now that he’d started, he couldn’t stop. “I didn’t mean to listen, but I—I heard what they said. What they did.” He clenched his jaw. “Jay, they threw away her silver medal.”

Jay’s expression didn’t change. He simply took another sip of his drink,

“Is that all?”

Jake frowned. “Jay-”

“No, really,” Jay cut in. “Is that all you saw?”

Jake stared at him confused. “What do you mean?”

Jay scoffed, shaking his head. “If you think that’s bad, then you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Jake felt something cold settle in his stomach. He had always known Jay’s family was strict, but this… this was something else.

“How long has it been like that?” Jake asked quietly.

Jay leaned back against the bench. “Since forever.”

Jake’s grip tightened on his soda can. “Why don’t she say anything?”

“Because it wouldn’t change anything.”

Jake hated how casually Jay said it, like it was just a fact of life. Like it wasn’t something that should make someone furious. “I don’t get it,” Jake admitted. “Why did she still… play along? Why act like everything is fine?”

Jay finally looked at him tiredly. “Because that’s the only choice she have.”

Jake didn’t know what to say to that. For the first time, he regretted knowing. Because now, he couldn’t unsee it. He couldn’t forget the way you had stood there silently and not moving, as your father discarded your achievement like it was nothing. He couldn’t forget how you had walked away, your shoulders heavy, your head bowed. Not out of shame, but out of exhaustion.

He had always thought of you as arrogant, competitive, impossible to break.

Now he wasn’t so sure.

“You know, she’s always been quiet,” Jay said suddenly.

Jake looked at him confused. “Quiet?”

Jay nodded. “Yeah. Like, really quiet. Always has been. Since we were kids.”

Jake frowned, trying to piece that together with the girl he knew. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

Jay chuckled. “Yeah, well, that’s because you don’t know her like I do. People think she’s all confidence and competition, but that’s just what she lets them see. You strip all that away? She barely says a word.”

Jake stayed silent, letting that sink in.

“She was always the quietest one in the room,” Jay continued. “Never talked much, never caused trouble. Just did whatever was expected of her. I think people used to forget she was even there sometimes.”

Jake found that hard to believe. “So why the change?”

Jay shrugged. “Didn’t change. Not really. She still doesn’t talk much when she doesn’t have to. Just learned how to play the part when she needs to.”

Jake tilted his head, thinking back to all the times he had seen you surrounded by people, laughing, teasing, always in control of a conversation. And yet, he couldn’t remember a single time you had actually talked about yourself.

“So all that confidence-“

“Not her,” Jay cut in. “But, she’s still quick-witted, still kinda funny when she wants to be. But when she’s not ‘performing’ for people? She’s quiet. Always has been.”

Jay stretched his legs out. “You know, you should at least try to be friends with her.”

Jake raised a brow. “Friends?” He let out a small laugh. “Pretty sure she’d rather choke than let that happen.”

Jay smirked. “Yeah, she’s dramatic like that. But she’s actually really funny when you get to know her.”

Jake gave him a confused look. “Funny?”

Jay nodded. “Like, in a really deadpan way. She doesn’t even try, but it makes it worse because she says stuff so seriously. And she’s good at keeping a straight face too, so people never know if she’s joking or not.”

Jake thought about it. He had seen glimpses of that before, the way you could make a single remark and have people either dying of laughter or questioning their entire existence. But he had always assumed you did it on purpose, as part of the persona you carried.

“You’re telling me that under all that arrogance, she’s just… quiet and funny?”

Jay grinned. “Yep. Oh, and she also eats weirdly. She cuts everything so neatly.”

“What?”

“Yeah,” Jay chuckled. “It’s weird. She won’t just bite into a burger. She’ll actually cut it first. Like, who does that?”

Jake laughed.

Jay continued. “But seriously. She’s not as impossible as you think. Just… don’t be an idiot about it.”

Jake stayed quiet. He didn’t know why, but the idea of getting to know you, really know you, stuck with him longer than it should have.

🪢

The wind was pushing against you like it wanted to knock you over. You welcomed it. The cold, the force of it, it was the only thing that felt real right now.

Footsteps.

You didn’t have to turn around to know who it was.

“You always come up here when you’re pissed off,” Jake said.

You exhaled through your nose. “And yet you always follow me. Should I start calling you my shadow? ”

“If it gets you actually to talk, sure.”

You huffed a dry laugh. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that.”

Jake didn’t say anything. He just walked forward, stopping beside you, mirroring your posture as he leaned against the railing. For a while, neither of you spoke. “You lost back there,” he said finally. Not taunting, not victorious. Just a fact.

You closed your eyes briefly before reopening them. “Yeah. I did.”

A pause. Then, softly, “And? ”

You swallowed. “And… it’s funny.” Your voice was quieter than you intended. “Because I didn’t even want to win.”

Jake turned his head toward you, but you fixed your gaze on the skyline. You couldn’t look at him. Not now. “Then what do you want? ” His voice was gentle.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

What did you want?

The question pressed against you. You’d spent your whole life running, fighting, and competing. Chasing after a finish line someone else had drawn for you. You were always trying to get ahead and be the best. Not because you wanted it but because you were expected to. So then… what was left when all of that was stripped away?

Jake was still watching you, waiting. But you had no answer.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “I don’t know.”

He didn’t respond right away. When he finally did, his voice was quiet. Almost… sad.

“You know, for all the years I’ve known you… I don’t think I’ve ever really known you at all.”

Your throat tightened. You finally turned to look at him.

“Let me help you figure it out,” he said.

And for the first time in your life, you wanted to let someone try.

The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

“How?”

It wasn’t arrogant. It wasn’t with the usual sharpness you carried. It was… quiet. Uncertain. Real.

Jake was caught off guard. Maybe he had expected you to scoff, to push him away like you always did. But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

You were tired.

He rubbed a hand over his jaw as if thinking. “We start small,” he said finally. “We talk. We stop pretending to know everything about each other when we don’t.”

Your fingers loosened around the railing. “And then? ”

“And then we figure it out.”

You stared down at your hands. “You make it sound so simple.”

“It’s not.” Jake studied you. “But it doesn’t have to be impossible either.”

You swallowed. “Why do you even care? ”

He was silent for a long time, long enough that you almost regretted asking. But when he spoke, his voice was softer than you had ever heard it.

“Because I saw you that day,” he said. “With your parents. I saw the way they looked at you. The way they spoke to you. And I realized… you’ve never had someone who listens to what you want, have you? ”

No. You hadn’t.

You didn’t even know what you would say if someone ever asked.

You turned away from him, your grip tightening against the railing again. “I don’t need your pity, Jake,” you murmured, but even you didn’t sound convinced.

“It’s not pity,” he said. “It’s just the truth.”

The truth.

You let out a bitter laugh. “You act like it’s that easy. Like suddenly, because you noticed, something will change. It won’t.” You inhaled sharply. “My parents won’t. I won’t.”

“Then let’s stop talking about them,” Jake said. “Just for a second. Forget them. Forget all of it. Just tell me. What do you want? ”

There it was again. That question.

“I…” Your fingers trembled. “I don’t know.”

��That’s okay.” His voice was steady. “Then we start there.”

You turned to look at him, and for the first time, you didn’t see Jake as your rival. You didn’t see the boy who beat you, who had everything you didn’t. He was just looking at you.

And for once, that was enough.

🪢

The crisp rustle of paper snapped you out of your thoughts.

“Here you go,” your professor said and slid a registration form onto your desk with a smile. “I assumed you’d be competing again this year. You wouldn’t want to waste your momentum, right? ”

You stared at it. The words are printed at the top. Bold, formal, suffocating. It felt heavier than it should.

“Right,” you muttered and forced a smile as you picked it up.

Of course. Of course, they’d assume. Because that was who you were. The star student, the prodigy, the competitor. Even if you hadn’t breathed a word about joining, people just knew. Your parents must have already whispered it to the right ears. You walked out of the classroom, staring at the form in your hands. It felt like holding a contract with no escape clause.

And then, before you could process it, the paper was gone.

“What’s this? ”

Your head snapped up. Jake. Standing in front of you, turning the paper over in his hands.

“Give it back,” you muttered, reaching for it, but he took a step back.

“Are you actually signing up for this? ” His tone wasn’t mocking, but something about it irritated you.

“It’s not like I have a choice,” you said flatly. “They expect me to.”

Jake’s face didn’t change. “And do you want to? ”

You scoffed. “Why do you always ask me that? ”

“Because you never answer,” he said.

Your fingers twitched at your sides. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

“It should.”

He was so sure. So convinced. You almost envied him for it.

“Then tell me, Jake,” you said. “If I say no, if I throw this form away and never look back. Then what? ”

Jake didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll be right there with you.”

“What-”

“If you don’t sign up, I won’t either,” he said. “If you want to walk away, then let’s walk away. Together.”

Is he being serious right now?

“Why? ” you whispered.

“Because I told you. I want to know you. The real you. And if that means letting go of some dumb competition, then so be it.”

You had never felt so seen in your entire life.

🪢

The aluminum can was cold in your hands. You stared at it, confused, before glancing at Jake.

“…Why? ” you asked as your brows furrowed.

Jake only shrugged. Popping open his own can with a hiss. “You looked like you needed one,” he said simply and brought the soda to his lips.

You eyed him for a moment longer before taking a small sip. The carbonation fizzed against your tongue. It gave you something to focus on. Something other than the boy sitting beside you. Jake leaned back against the bench, his arm resting casually along the backrest. “Jay was right,” he said. “You really are quiet.”

You paused mid-sip. Lowering it just enough to glance at him.

“Huh? ” You weren’t sure what he meant by that.

Jake didn’t look at you right away. Giving you space to process his words. “I mean… when you’re not performing. When you’re not playing the role everyone expects. When you’re not competing or surrounded by people who only care about your name.” He finally turned to you and smiled. “You don’t say much at all.”

You pressed your thumb against the can’s surface. “And that’s a problem? ” Your tone was neutral.

Jake shook his head. “Not at all,” he said steadily. “Just… different.” He took another sip of his drink before adding, “I think I like this version of you more.”

That was strange. You weren’t used to being seen like this. To someone noticing the parts of you that existed outside of competition, outside of expectations. You didn’t know how to respond. So, you didn’t. Instead, you took another sip of your soda, letting the taste of artificial sweetness and carbonation sit heavily.

“I’m jealous of you.”

The words left your mouth before you had the chance to second-guess them. They weren’t said with bitterness or anger. Just exhaustion. A quiet sort of truth. Jake didn’t react at first. He was processing your words. “Jealous? Of me? ” His voice held genuine surprise.

You let out a breath while your shoulders sagged. “Yeah.” You turned the can in your hands again, staring at the condensation gathering on the surface. “You have everything I don’t. A supportive family. Friends who actually care. You don’t have to prove yourself every second just to be worth something.”

Jake stayed quiet, listening. He always listened.

“You don’t know what it’s like to be me,” you continued, voice quieter now, but no less raw. “To have people around you, but still feel alone. To have a name everyone respects but never be sure if anyone actually likes you. To constantly win, but never feel like you’re allowed to lose.” You let out a dry chuckle, but there was no humor in it. “And the worst part? I don’t even want to win.”

Jake’s face was showing understanding. Or pity. You weren’t sure which one was worse.

“Then why do you? ” His voice was gentle.

You opened your mouth. Then closed it.

Because you didn’t have an answer. Or maybe you did, but you weren’t ready to say it out loud.

Jake leaned forward slightly. “I don’t know how you feel,” he admitted. “I won’t pretend I do. But… you don’t have to be alone in it.”

You scoffed. “And what? You’re going to save me? ”

“No,” Jake said simply. “But I can listen. If you let me.”

You had spent so long keeping these thoughts buried. Locked behind walls built too high for anyone to climb. But somehow, he had found his way through.

“Jay is the only thing I have,” you admitted.

Jake stilled beside you. “What do you mean? ” he asked, though you could tell he already had an idea.

“He’s the only one who really knows me. Who doesn’t care about the name, the rankings, the medals. If he wasn’t there…” Your throat tightened, but you forced the words out. “I think I’d have nothing.”

Jake didn’t speak right away. His eyes on you. Finally, he spoke, his voice softer than before. “You know that’s not true, right? ”

You laughed bitterly. “It is.” You gestured vaguely. The proof was all around you. “Everyone else only sticks around because of the reputation. Because it benefits them. I see it. I know it. And my parents-” You stopped yourself. “They only care about the success, not the person behind it.”

Jake was quiet for a moment. “That’s not how it should be.”

“Yeah, well.” You forced a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Not all of us get to have what you have, Jake.”

Jake frowned. “And what do you think I have? ”

“Everything.” The word was heavier than you expected. “You have people who support you. People who love you. Who don’t just see you as a title or an achievement. You don’t have to fight for their approval, because you already have it.”

Jake held your gaze. Then, slowly, he set his can down beside him and leaned back on his hands. “I don’t think that means I have everything,” he murmured. “Not if it means you have nothing.” Then, he stretched beside you. “You know, I never thought I’d see the day where you admitted you were jealous of me.”

You shoved his arm lightly. “Don’t get used to it.”

“Oh, I won’t. I’ll just make sure to remind you every chance I get.” He grinned. “‘Jake, you have everything,’” he mimicked in a terrible impression of your voice. “‘Jake, you’re so humble, so talented, so-’”

You shoved him harder this time. “I take it back. I’m not jealous of you. I pity you.”

Jake only laughed, catching himself before he could tip over. “Sure, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your lips turned upwards despite yourself.

“So,” Jake finally said while tapping his fingers against his knee. “Since we’re being honest today. What do you actually like? You know, aside from crushing your opponents in competitions.”

You raised a brow. “Who says I like that? ”

“You sure act like it.”

“I don’t know.” You hesitated. “I guess… I never really thought about it. I’ve just been doing what’s expected of me.”

Jake hummed thoughtfully. “Well, maybe it’s time you start.”

You glanced at him. It was unsettling how easily he could be both annoying and unexpectedly kind in the same breath. “And how exactly do I do that? ” you asked.

Jake shrugged. “Figure it out. Try something new. Do something for yourself instead of everyone else.” He paused, then smirked. “Like, I don’t know. Maybe getting ice cream with your ‘rival’ after school?”

You narrowed your eyes. “That sounds suspiciously like a date.”

“Call it what you want.” He stood up and stretched. “But I’m getting ice cream either way, and I won’t stop bragging about it if I go alone.”

🪢

After classes, you two went to a nearby ice cream shop. The ice cream was cold against your tongue. You sat across from Jake at a small outdoor table, absentmindedly tapping your spoon against the cup. “You know,” you started with your voice flat, “this is the first time I’ve eaten ice cream without the crushing weight of expectations looming over me.”

Jake snorted. “Wow, what a tragic backstory.”

“It is,” you deadpanned. “Every bite before this was accompanied by the echo of my parents’ disappointment.”

He stared at you for a second before bursting into laughter. “God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Am I? ” you asked, still completely serious. “I think it adds depth to my character.”

Jake shook his head, taking another bite of his own ice cream. “Jay was right. You really are funny in the weirdest way possible.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you said, still expressionless.

“It wasn’t meant to be one.”

“Too late.”

Jake just chuckled, shaking his head. The conversation carried on like that. Quick exchanges, half-serious jokes, and you, testing the waters of what it felt like to simply be. No competitions, no expectations, just sitting here, eating ice cream with the one person you never expected to share something so normal with. And when you looked at Jake, mid-bite, you realized something else…

Maybe this was what it felt like to have a friend.

🪢

For the next few months, something unexpected happened.

At first, it was a small change. Jake started waiting for you after class. The two of you walking together, sometimes in silence, sometimes bickering over the smallest things. He would flick your forehead whenever you made a dry joke, and you would roll your eyes when he got too philosophical about life. Then, there were the study sessions, the shared lunches, and the exchanged texts that started out about assignments but eventually turned into things that had nothing to do with school.

Somewhere along the way, “rival” wasn’t the right word.

You still competed, of course. Old habits were hard to break. But there was a difference now. When you turned in your test papers, you didn’t feel like you had to prove something to him. When you saw his name next to yours on the scoreboard, it didn’t feel like an attack on your worth. Jake had a way of existing so effortlessly, like he belonged wherever he stood, like he had nothing to prove. And for some reason, being around him made you feel like you didn’t have to prove anything either. One afternoon, as the two of you sat on the school rooftop. “I think I’m forgetting how to be competitive.”

Jake looked at you. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. ‘’It’s not.”

🪢

The moment the results were announced, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you had been holding.

Third place.

For a second, the world seemed to slow. The crowd cheered, cameras flashed, and the weight of all the past competitions pressed against your chest. But instead of disappointment. There was…

Relief.

You turned your head and saw Jake standing on the highest podium. He was smiling, beaming, and when his eyes met yours, his expression softened. He wasn’t just happy for himself. He was proud of you. And strangely, you felt proud too. The old you would’ve hated this. Would’ve obsessed over the what-ifs, convinced yourself that third place meant failure. But now, standing there, you just smiled. Genuinely smiled.

Jake stepped down from his podium before the ceremony was even over, ignoring the announcer’s call. In a second, he was in front of you, eyes searching, until you opened your arms. And then, he pulled you into a hug. It wasn’t brief or hesitant. It wasn’t a victory embrace, not in the way you used to think about winning. It was steady, warm, something unspoken but understood.

“You did amazing,” he murmured.

You let out a small laugh. “You did better.”

“Yeah, but that’s not the point” he squeezed your shoulder. “I’m proud of you.”

You swallowed. For once, you didn’t brush it off. You didn’t argue.

You let yourself believe it.

🪢

The moment you stepped out, the harsh light from the parking lot made the situation feel colder than it already was. Your parents were already waiting for you by the car. Their faces were tense. They didn’t even look at each other before they started in on you.

Your father’s voice was low. “You’ve failed again.” His words hung in the air. “How many times do we have to do this? We put you in the best position possible. I thought you’d learned something after last time, but all you’ve proven is that you can’t handle the pressure.”

You stayed quiet, your hands at your sides, unwilling to look up. There was nothing you could say that would make them understand. Not now. Not ever.

Your mother spoke, her voice a little softer but still sharp. “We give you everything, every advantage, and you still can’t manage to bring home the result we expect. You got third place. Third. Why? Because you didn’t care enough. Because you were distracted. Because you-” She stopped herself.

You wanted to say something, anything, to defend yourself. But you knew it wouldn’t matter. Your words would fall on deaf ears. No matter what you said, it would never be enough.

“I thought you’d work harder. But it’s clear now. You don’t care about winning. You never have,” your father added with his voice cold now. Then, there was silence, and it was unbearable. You could feel the tears welling up behind your eyes. You fought them back. You had to. You wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. And just as you thought you might snap, you heard a voice from behind you. Calm. Steady. Unshakable.

“That’s enough.”

Jake.

You didn’t turn to look at him, but his presence was like a wall between you and your parents now. He stepped forward, his shoulders straight, eyes hard as he looked at your father. “With all due respect, sir, that’s not fair.” Jake’s voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. “She tried. You can’t pretend that she didn’t. I’ve seen her work. I’ve seen how much she puts into this. You can’t just tear her down like that because she didn’t win. That’s not how this works.”

Your father’s jaw clenched. He wasn’t used to being challenged. Not by anyone. Certainly not by someone like Jake. Your mother, on the other hand, narrowed her eyes. “You’re out of line. This is a family matter, Jake. You don’t know what we’ve sacrificed to give her everything she needs to succeed.”

Jake’s eyes softened, but there was still a firmness to it. “I’m not saying you didn’t sacrifice. But you’re hurting her. You’re not giving her a chance to breathe. To be more than just the next win on your list of expectations. She’s not a machine.”

You could feel your heart racing now. This wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t want Jake to defend you like this, not like this. You didn’t want to be the center of their conflict. But you also couldn’t help the way his words felt so protective and heartwarming. Your father’s voice cracked this time. “You have no idea what it’s like to be responsible for someone like her. You think this is easy for us? ”

Jake didn’t flinch. “I’m sure it’s not easy. But that doesn’t mean you can break her every time she doesn’t meet your expectations. She’s already carrying a burden you don’t understand.”

There was a long silence. Your parents, caught in their own frustrations, didn’t know what to say. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw your father this quiet. This is uncertain. And yet, it didn’t make you feel better. It made the pain worse, somehow.

“Go to the car.” Your father looked at you.

You didn’t move. Not immediately. You couldn’t. Your feet felt rooted to the ground. Your mother’s voice broke through the fog. “Come on, let’s go.” There was no warmth in her voice. No understanding. Just a demand, as though you were nothing more than a tool they could use to achieve their own goals.

Still, you didn’t move. But then, your father’s gaze hardened, and with a final glance at you, he turned away and started toward the car. Your mother followed without a word. They got into the car and drove off, leaving you standing there, frozen, isolated. Abandoned in the worst way possible.

The car was long gone, and the sounds of your parents’ angry voices were still in your mind. You were left in the cold, standing at the edge of the competition venue, a place that was supposed to celebrate achievement, yet all you felt was an unbearable emptiness. You didn’t know how long you stood there, paralyzed by the weight of it all, until you felt a presence behind you.

Without saying a word, Jake came up behind you and pulled you into him, his arms wrapping around you in a way that was protective and almost desperate. For a moment, you stayed completely still, not knowing how to react. You tried to suppress the tears that threatened to break through, but the more you tried to stop them, the more they came. You didn’t want this. You didn’t want to fall apart like this, but the pain, the frustration. It was all too much.

Jake didn’t say anything at first. He just held you. Your body shaking against him. His hand ran through your hair gently. After a long silence, his voice broke through the quiet.

“I love you.”

You froze. You weren’t ready for this. You didn’t expect it, not like this, not in this moment of raw vulnerability. You wanted to say something, anything, but all you could do was cry harder, the pain in your chest intensifying with every breath you took. He didn’t pull away. He didn’t need to explain. His arms around you were all the explanation you needed.

And then, in the most fragile, broken voice, you managed to choke out, “I love you too, Jake.”

Your voice cracked as the words left your mouth, the reality of it all hitting you harder than anything else. It wasn’t just the weight of your parents’ disappointment. It wasn’t just the competition. It was everything. The years of trying to prove yourself, the years of hiding your pain, of pretending you were okay. But in that moment, with Jake holding you, all the walls you’d built around yourself crumbled.

You didn’t know how to explain it. You didn’t even know what it all meant. But you knew that in this moment, you weren’t alone.

🪢

It was late in the evening. The sun had long since set. You and Jake were at the same spot, the one you’d found yourselves in countless times before. It had become a place of understanding, where the noise of the world couldn’t reach you, where nothing else mattered except the moment you were sharing. Jake leaned against the railing, one arm crossed. You sat next to him, just a little distance apart, but the space felt non-existent.

It had been a few weeks since everything had changed between you two. Since the “I love you’s.”

“You know,” Jake said, breaking the silence, “I never really thought about how much I’d come to care about you. I think I spent so much time trying to figure you out that I missed how much I wanted to just… be with you.”

You didn’t say anything at first. The honesty in his voice hit you harder than you expected, and for a brief moment, you felt exposed. “I never really let anyone get close,” you admitted quietly. “But… with you, I don’t know. It just feels like it’s easier.”

Jake’s gaze softened. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide anything with me,” he continued. “You don’t have to be perfect. You don’t have to be anything you’re not. I only want to be here for you.”

You finally turned to face him, your eyes meeting his. Without thinking, you leaned in, the distance between you two shrinking with every heartbeat. And then, without a word, Jake mirrored your movement, his hand gently cupping your cheek as he closed the space.

When his lips met yours, it was like everything had clicked into place. It wasn’t forceful, nor was it with frantic energy. It was gentle, careful. You pulled back slowly. Jake’s smile was soft, and when he opened his eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” he said quietly.

And when you smiled back at him, it was different. It wasn’t the kind of smile you gave anyone else. It was for him. For everything you were beginning to understand about him, and about yourself, too.

🪢

You don’t know why you agreed to meet them. Maybe some part of you still wants to believe they’ll listen this time. That they’ll understand. You sit across from them at the dining table in your family’s home. Your father is the first to speak. “Are you done being distracted? ” His voice is calm but sharp. “We gave you time to sulk after your loss. Now it’s time to get serious again.”

Your mother looked at you with disappointment. “Do you know how humiliating it was for us to see you standing there in third place? After everything we’ve done for you? ”

You don’t flinch. Not this time. “I was proud.” Your voice is steady. “For the first time, I was actually proud of myself.”

Your father scoffs. “Proud of what? Settling for less? ”

“Proud that I didn’t hate myself.” The words come out before you can stop them. And for the first time, silence fills the room.

Your mother’s expression tightens. “Where is all of this coming from? Since when did you start talking like this? ”

You grip your hands under the table. “Since I realized I could breathe without trying to be perfect. Since I stopped believing that my worth was tied to a trophy. Since Jake.” But you don’t say any of that out loud. Instead, you swallow and meet their gaze. “I’m not going to keep chasing something that makes me miserable just because it makes you proud.”

Your father’s hand slams against the table, making the dishes rattle. “You think you know better than us? You think you can just throw away everything we built for you? ”

“You built it for yourselves. Not for me.”

Your mother shook her head. “Ungrateful. We gave you everything. And this is how you repay us? ”

Then your father delivers the final blow.

“You’re making a mistake.” His voice, ice. “And when you fail, don’t expect us to be there.”

Something inside you cracks. Maybe it had already been breaking for years. You stand up. Your chair scrapes against the floor.

“Don’t worry, I won’t.”

And with that, you turn and walk away.

🪢

The months pass, and so do the expectations that once weighed you down. You’re still you. Still sharp, still competitive when it matters, but you’re no longer fighting a battle just to prove something. There’s no more need to mask everything behind arrogance. No more need to win just to feel like you deserve to exist. People notice the change. You’re quieter now, but not in the way that feels like suffocation. You’re reserved, but not closed off. And most importantly, you’re kinder. Not just to others, but to yourself. Jay is the first to point it out one day, laughing as he nudges you. “You used to act like you had to be the smartest person in every room. Now you actually let people speak.”

You roll your eyes. “I never did that.”

“Oh, you definitely did.” He grins. “But look at you now. I’m proud of you, you know? ”

You pause at that. It’s not something you hear often. But from Jay, it’s real.

You shrug. “Took me long enough.”

And then there’s Jake.

He’s always there, not in a way that feels like an obligation, but in a way that feels natural. Like you were always meant to meet him at the finish line, no matter where it was. You sit beside him on the rooftop as always. After a moment, he glances at you, eyes warm. “So, do you regret it? ”

You tilt your head. “Regret what? ”

“Letting go.”

You don’t answer right away. You think about everything you lost. The approval you once desperately sought. The expectations you’ll never meet. The people you had to walk away from.

But then you think about everything you gained.

You think about Jay’s laughter, about the way he never left your side. You think about Jake, about the way he looks at you as someone he chose to stay with.

For the first time, your answer is certain.

“No,” you say. “Not even for a second.”

Jake smiles. And when he reaches for your hand, you don’t hesitate before taking it.

Because for the first time in your life, you don’t need to win. You don’t need to be the best.

You just need to be here.

Extra Scene:

You and Jake sat on his bed, legs stretched out, backs resting against the headboard. “No, seriously,” Jake said, chuckling as he shook his head. “You were the most terrifying person I’d ever competed against.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, please. You make it sound like I was some villain.”

Jake laughed and looked at you for a moment. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. You knew what he was thinking. A comfortable silence passed between you before he suddenly reached over to his nightstand, pulling open the drawer. You didn’t think much of it at first, but then his fingers brushing over something inside before carefully pulling it out. Your breath caught in your throat.

It was the silver medal.

The same one your father had ripped from your neck that night after the competition, thrown carelessly into the trash.

But here it was, resting in Jake’s hands.

The thin ribbon that had once been torn off had been stitched back on. Messily, but carefully. The fabric wasn’t perfect, the stitches uneven, but it was there.

Whole again.

“You…” You swallowed as your eyes looked up to his. “You took it?”

Jake exhaled a laugh and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah,” he admitted. “I saw it in the trash that night. Just sitting there, like it didn’t mean anything.” He paused, turning the medal between his fingers. “But it did mean something. Maybe not to them, but to you. So, I took it.”

You reached out, your fingers brushed over the uneven stitches.

“You fixed it,” you whispered.

Jake smiled. “It was never broken,” he murmured. “It was just… waiting for the right person to hold onto it.”

You looked at him then, pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Being around him felt like peace.

[demonic0angel]

Danny travels to Gotham to check out the university and to visit Jazz, when Shades starts approaching him, begging him, to kill a clown called Joker. Ever since Danny took down a GIW satellite that put Amity into a media black out and blocked their calls to the Justice League, Danny's been able to more easily look up information outside of what goes on in Amity Park. The Shades can feel the power Danny tries to keep hidden and can sense he's a protective spirit. Danny learns from the Shades that Batman refuses to kill even though the Joker has hurt him and his family, including killing the second Robin. Danny is conflicted since he knows that sometimes protecting means killing and that killing is wrong. Danny also has clown trauma, so maybe dragging the Joker to court in the Ghost Zone for a proper trial would work, especially since Gotham's a corrupt city. The next time Joker shows his face in Gotham, Danny is still in town by coincidence, Phantom appears before Joker's latest attack starts piling a body count and freezes him before hauling him to the infinite realms for trial. The Bats are stunned

(May I introduce you to this post?)

Tim leaned in close to Dick. “Shouldn’t we do something to help?”

“We don’t know what’s happening right now. And besides, Jason is up there with the king. We have to be careful,” Dick said carefully.

The Ghost King sat on his throne at the judge’s place, where two other guards stood near him, one wearing flowery motifs and the other looking like the Egyptian god Anubis. All three of them looked solemnly at the Joker, who was grinning like a loon as he sat in the defendant’s seat.

The courtroom they were in was crowded and bubbling with noise. Ghosts and monsters sat in the stands and jury. Dick was pretty sure he could recognize one of Tim’s Young Justice friends sitting amongst the jury, but he wasn’t too sure.

Multiple hero teams had also found their way inside of the Ghost Realm in order to be here for the Joker’s trial. Bruce sat next to them, stone faced and clenching his fists. Dick glanced at him but wasn’t able to say anything as the King then stood up, silencing the room.

“You have a choice,” the Ghost King said, addressing the Joker. “For this trial, we’ve decided to do something different for only one time. In this trial, you, the defendant, are allowed to choose the attorney for the plaintiff’s side. The plaintiffs are also able to choose the attorney for you.”

Immediately, multiple people from the audience stood up in protest.

Dick cried, “That’s not fair!”

He was immediately silenced by the Ghost King’s glare as the Joker’s smile widened. Dick ground his teeth together, about to speak up again, when Tim pulled him down.

“Shush, I think there’s a plan,” Tim said and Dick reluctantly sat back down, grimacing. He glanced in Jason’s direction, where he sat stiffly in a sea of victims. There were so many of them that they looked like another part of the audience, all pale faced and bloody, many of them crawling back from the gaping maw of the Dead to see Joker’s demise.

And now it was going to be ruined with this new random rule.

Dick had thought the Ghost King was fair and just, but had he been wrong?

The plaintiffs were allowed to choose the Joker’s attorney first, and they chose Impulse, who had been horrified to be chosen before he seemed to receive some sort of signal from Tim, because he then looked determined and sat in Joker’s space, although very far away.

“The person defending the plaintiffs’ case is Impulse, who’s last name is Allen, once Kid Flash, a hero within the team Young Justice,” the Ghost King announced.

There were some claps. Dick watched the proceedings nervously, almost wanting to throw up.

It was soon the Joker’s turn.

He hummed and his beady eyes scanned the room. He was still grinning when he zeroed in on a woman in the back.

Her red hair covered her face as she bent over her computer, trying to look small as she typed away. She was clearly some sort of court reporter and was keeping to herself, tucked into a corner.

Dick’s heart immediately dropped into his stomach.

“I choose her,” the Joker crooned and the crowd went silent, staring in horror.

The Ghost King said, “Are you sure?”

The Joker nodded, smirking.

There was silence as the plaintiffs immediately seemed to give up, some even bursting into tears.

The Ghost King, however, threw his head back and laughed loudly. He laughed so loudly and so humorously that it was almost funny, if not even more baffling. Even when looking at Bruce, he had no idea what was going on either. The room began to buzz again with confusion.

Finally, the Ghost King reached beneath his mask to wipe away a tear and called to the red haired woman, “Jazz! You’re up!”

She looked up and smiled. When she straightened and stood up, the room fell silent as she rose to her full height, smoothing down her pencil skirt as she tucked away her computer and chirped cheerfully, “Reporting for duty, Your Majesty.”

There was no worry or anxiety on her face. Instead, there was excitement in her eyes and smile as she walked down from where she had been sitting behind the throne to stand near the plaintiffs.

They too, fell silent, staring at her tall frame in awe. Dick was pretty sure he could see Jason’s jaw drop.

Which, real.

But the real shock was the Ghost King’s next words.

The Ghost King smiled as he gestured to the woman standing near the plaintiffs side. “May I introduce you to the person defending the plaintiffs’ case. Introducing Jazz Nightingale, sister of the Ghost King, the Attorney General of the Ghost Zone, a recent graduate of Yale University who graduated summa cum laude for both law and psychiatry, and former queen regent of the Infinite Realms.”

Jazz gave a wave and a small smile.

The Ghost King tipped his head at the Joker, whose smile fell off his face for the first time.

The volume inside of the room rose rapidly as everyone immediately burst into screams of either delight or shock. Dick wasn’t exempt from this either, gasping as his eyes widened. He stood up and planted his hands on the table in excitement, barely able to believe his eyes and ears. He was pretty sure Bruce and Tim were doing the same.

The Ghost King smirked as he gazed into the Joker’s terrified eyes.

“You’ve fucked up.”

[spideyjimin]

what was i made for | jk

⏤ pairing: jungkook x female reader 

⏤ genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, and smut 

⏤ rating: 18+

⏤ warnings: a tiny bit of sad oc, alcohol consumption, oral sex (m receiving), swearing, some teasing, praising, penetrative sex, protected sex, rough sex, creampie, and multiple orgasms 

⏤ words: 8,833

⏤ summary: have you ever met someone with whom you instantly clicked? well yes, but never to the extent of how it happened with jungkook. in a matter of days, he made you feel like the prettiest and most special woman. right there and then, you understood what you were made for. 

 ⏤ author’s note: hi loves! here you have this fic! it was a pleasure to write it since it's been a while that i haven't written fluffy fics. i hope you enjoy it & it's always a pleasure to know what you think about it! have a wonderful day & week ahead!

MASTERLIST

Turning 30 wasn’t exactly how you pictured it to be. Since a very young age, you thought that by this stage you’d be in a long-term relationship and probably a mother. As years passed by, you simply hoped that you’d be in a relationship but all the dates you endured the past year made you realize that it would never be the case. 

Being single has never made you sad, you actually always enjoyed being on your own. Being independent is something you always sought to have, and you deeply treasure having it. However, this is quite a milestone in life and this time, being alone has a bit of a bittersweet taste. And it hurts. Although, in a way, you try to convince yourself that it’s better to be alone than in a bad relationship. 

As you’re looking at the people sitting at the table, most of them are engaged or married or living together, or having a child. Before, it used to not hurt you but today, it’s quite hard to look at them all with happiness. Nonetheless, the reason why you’re all gathered today truly makes you happy. Your best friend, Jin proposed to his girlfriend, Iseul and they reunited all their close friends to announce the fantastic news. You’re the only one aware of this because he asked for your advice for the proposal. 

The only other person aware of this is Jimin, Iseul’s brother. Jin prefers to have his approval since they are very close. He also asked for her father’s approval as the gentleman that he is. You got to meet Iseul’s brother quite a lot of times and he’s definitely a sweetheart. Jin and Iseul tried to set you up but between you, there’s only friendship, nothing more. 

While looking, your eyes land on a man who catches your attention. He’s honestly quite handsome, a kind of handsome you’ve never seen before. He looks innocent without looking innocent. It sort of doesn’t make sense but that’s how you’d describe him. Looking at his cute features makes him look quite innocent but then, his vibe definitely breathes ‘not innocent’. Maybe it’s caused by his short haircut. You’re not sure although that’s how you perceive him. 

For sure, you’re convinced that he’s probably already in a relationship. Guys like him are usually taken. They don’t stay single for a long time, they easily charm every person around them, and they can find their person quite fast. Your eyes meet and he offers you a little smile, one that you return. 

“Hey guys,” Jin says a little louder to get everybody’s attention. “Today, Iseul and I gathered you here to share some wonderful news.” 

A bright smile appears on your face. 

Iseul shows her left hand with her engagement ring and points it out. “We’re getting married,” she yells with evident joy. 

Everybody starts congratulating them for their engagement, and they all seem extremely happy with this announcement. It warms your heart to be a part of this big step in their lives. Getting married is quite something, and you’re deeply and truly happy for them. 

During the dinner, you find out that the hot guy’s name is Jungkook. He’s actually Iseul’s cousin. Him and Jimin are quite close. Jimin frequently mentions him and you’ve heard many stories about them. It’s great to finally put a face on a name. Especially since he’s a very good looking man. 

At some point, you realize that everybody is discussing in the living room, except for you, Jimin, and Jungkook. Throughout the evening, they slowly moved, leaving you alone with them. You’re having a very animated conversation about desserts. 

“Tiramisu is the best dessert ever,” you say. “There’s nothing you can say that will change my mind.”

They are trying to convince you that chocolate mousse or lemon cheesecake are much better than anything else. For sure, those are good desserts but not as good as a tiramisu. Nothing will ever beat a good old tiramisu. 

“Pff, you’re saying nonsense, yn,” Jimin replies. 

You roll your eyes which makes Jungkook laugh. Honestly, it’s been fantastic to interact with them. They are super funny, they have a very good dynamic. Through that, you get to see that Jungkook isn’t just pretty on the outside, he definitely seems to have a good heart. That convinces you even more that this man isn’t single at all. A man like him isn’t on the market anymore. A lucky girl must be waiting for him at home.      

“Every word that leaves my mouth is only the truth,” you say with a little smirk on your face. 

Both men laugh even more. They aren’t convinced at all that you only say the truth, they actually don’t agree with you that tiramisu is the best dessert ever. 

“You’re very funny, yn!” Jimin says.  

You roll your eyes once more but you’re simply happy to share this moment with them. They manage to make you forget how sad you’ve been feeling for the past month. It’s been hard but you’ve been trying to cheer yourself up because it’s a feeling that is not easy to deal with. 

“I quickly need to go to the bathroom,” Jimin adds. 

You and Jungkook simply nod before your friend leaves you alone. For a brief moment, there’s a little silence between you but it’s not an awkward one. Then, his eyes meet yours with a little smile on his face. 

“I’m happy to finally meet the girl Iseul tried to set Jimin up with,” he says. 

“Oh, you heard about that,” you reply with a smile appearing on your face. 

“Of course,” he responds. “Iseul talked so much about it, she really wanted you to be together.” 

She told you that a million times but you and Jimin weren’t meant to be together. At least that’s what you believe. There’s a lot of love and respect between you but it will never be more than that. He’s simply a close friend. A friend you’re more than grateful to have in your life.  

“She’s terrible!” you shake your head with a little smile on your face. “I don’t get why she had to tell everybody about it.” 

For sure, it annoys you a bit that she had to tell the world she wanted you to be with her little brother. But she’s one of your bestest friends, and you cherish her friendship more than anything else. It was such a sweet gesture to try to help you out with your love life.  

Then, right there, you see in his eyes the pity appearing. He doesn’t need to say anything else for you to understand what he’s going to say. They all give you that look when they’re about to say that you’re single. 

“She wants to help her dear friend to find someone,” he mumbles. 

Your eyes glance down at your hands. It’s better that he doesn’t see the sadness appearing all over your face. Even though it comes from a good intention, it makes you feel like a pathetic girl that isn’t able to find someone, especially when you’re talking about it with a handsome man. 

“She’s also been wanting to do it with me,” he adds. “She keeps saying that a soldier shouldn’t be single. It doesn’t make any sense to me but I guess she simply adores setting people together.” 

A smile appears on your face before you look up. In a way, you feel like he said that to cheer you up but it still feels nice that he tried to not make you feel alone. However, you’re a bit surprised to hear that he’s a soldier. You would have never imagined him serving in the military. 

“Probably,” you reply. “But in my case, it’s mostly out of pity because I’m 30 and still single. All our friends are in relationships, married or parents.” 

“I’m sure that’s not the reason,” you instantly say. “Iseul is like that, she loves to help.” 

You take a deep breath, he’s absolutely right but it’s becoming heavy to be the only single one out of all your friends. Every single friend of yours present here is in a relationship. Most of them are already married, and a couple of them are parents. It’s not easy to look around and see everybody succeeding on all those aspects in life. The only thing you can brag about is your career. 

And because of all that, sometimes you wonder what you are made for.

“I know she just wants to help because she’s aware of how heavy the pressure from society can be,” you tell him. “And it has been quite heavy since I turned 30. It’s hard to look around and see everybody getting married or buying their houses or announcing a pregnancy while I’m extremely far from achieving that.” 

Jungkook nods. You’re not convinced he can understand you, you’re not sure he’s even single as he’s claiming. Society treats men and women completely differently. For a man, it’s totally okay to not be married or to have a child by the age of 30. It’s even remarkable if they put their careers first. But you’re fully aware that everything isn’t rainbows and sunshines for men as well. 

Nonetheless, it is surprising how comfortable this man has made you feel. This morning, you weren’t even aware of his existence, and now, you’re talking about how you’ve been feeling. What you ignore is that it's a shared feeling.

“I’m sorry to be talking about my problems,” you say. 

“No, no,” he says. “Don’t worry at all about that!” 

You swiftly start discussing other topics. At some point, you find yourself wondering where Jimin is but he has discreetly joined the others in the living room, leaving you alone. He noticed the way you were deeply talking, and he didn’t want to disturb you. For sure, you appreciated the opportunity because you got to learn a bit more about Jungkook. 

After the engagement party of Iseul and Jin, you exchanged numbers with Jungkook and since then, you’ve been spending your days texting him. It has been making you extremely happy. He’s making you feel seen, a sensation that has been absent from your life for a while. Not all the men you dated elicited that feeling in you, but it’s also not something new. However, right now, you don’t want to think about the ex that provoked that feeling.  

What you truly appreciate about Jungkook is the fact that he always warns you when he will take some time to reply. He always tells you when he’s going to do a certain thing that will cause him to go to sleep at 4 am and that he won’t be able to reply. Nonetheless, he always texts you before going to sleep, no matter the time. 

“How are things going with my cousin?” Iseul asks while you’re walking to her car. 

It truly amazes you how this woman ends up discovering everything when it comes to the dating life of someone. 

“How do you know?” you inquire. 

A smirk appears on her face. 

“Well, at my engagement party, you were all over each other, which made me extremely happy, to be honest,” she explains. “Since then, you’ve been smiling like an idiot all the time, and your phone crazily buzzes. It’s not complicated to understand that you two are flirting.” 

The word ‘flirting’ violently hits you. You never considered that you were flirting but now that she’s saying it out loud, it definitely is the truth. 

“I should have thought about trying to set you up together,” she says. 

You roll your eyes while shaking your head. She’s always thinking about setting people together but that’s one of her charms. She’s always so considerate of people around her, she wants people to be happy. 

“Maybe if you had that idea, it would have never worked,” you reply. 

The thought of being set up with Jungkook is weird because you adore the way things started between you. You can’t imagine it any other way. Now, you’re simply grateful he’s part of your life. For the past month, he’s been contributing a lot to your happiness, and you only hope that it’ll be the case for a long time. 

“Probably,” she quickly replies, “but I’m glad you’re talking and discovering each other,” she adds. “You deserve more than anyone else to be happy.” 

She takes you in a heartfelt hug, one that warms your soul. She’d noticed how sad you’d been since you turned 30, and it shattered her heart to see you like that. She’s seen how hard it has been for you to not find your person even though you said the opposite. She could see the pain behind the smile you were always showing. 

She’s fully aware that being in a relationship doesn’t determine the person you are, but she knows how it can sometimes make you feel lonely. When it happens, it hurts, and not just a bit. Iseul admires you. You’re so independent, you don’t rely on anybody else. Most of the time, when she needs to go somewhere, she calls somebody to not be alone because she hates that feeling. 

She drops you out at your place, and you enjoy a bit of your time alone at home. After being out with Iseul, you need a few hours of rest. Honestly, she exhausted you. Thankfully, tomorrow is Sunday and you’re planning on staying at home the full day. But someone ruins your moment alone by ringing at the door. 

As you open the door, you’re graced with a man holding a massive bouquet of flowers. 

“Ms y/l/n?” the man raises as he takes the bouquet down. 

“Yes,” you reply and frown. 

“This is a delivery I have for you,” he hands you the bouquet. “Can you please sign here?”

“Let me just put the bouquet down, please,” the man nods while you place the bouquet on your table. 

You come back real quick and sign the receipt. The man leaves, you close the door, and go to the living room to take a proper look at the bouquet. It’s a very impressive one but it’s definitely a wonderful one. There’s a little card on it which intrigues you. Who could possibly send it? 

‘A wonderful bouquet for the most wonderful woman, Jungkook. Ps: sorry I couldn’t hand it myself to you.’ 

Your heart melts right there. This man is slowly but surely making you fall in love with him. The bouquet is so pretty, it’s actually the prettiest a man has ever given to you. It’s for sure a pity he couldn’t have given it himself, you would have wanted him to be here with you right now. Nevertheless, it’s still a magnificent gesture. One that you’ll cherish for a long moment.

Jungkook is on a special mission this weekend which prevents him from returning home. Usually, he only works during the week but there was an unexpected event this weekend. To be honest, it kind of broke your heart because you were eager to spend some time with him. Since he works and sleeps in the barracks during the week, the only time you get to see him is the weekend. 

Being away from you doesn’t prevent him from speaking with you and calling you every day, but it’s very different from being together. Nonetheless, you feel like it also helps to build a stronger connection. Once you get to see each other, you try to get the most out of it.  

You grab your phone and send him a message. Jungkook told you that his phone will remain at the quarters and that he wouldn’t be able to speak with you. So calling him will be useless, it’s best to leave a message that he’ll see when he’s back. 

That night, you fell asleep with the brightest smile. Jungkook has been making you feel so special since the moment you met him. There’s no doubt that you’ll try to keep him around as long as possible. 

The next Monday, after leaving work, you find Jungkook at the main entrance. After this intense and tough work day, it definitely makes your day a hundred times better. As soon as he sees you, he smiles and walks in your direction to meet you halfway. While getting closer to him, you notice that he’s wearing his military uniform. The first thought that crosses your mind is that he came straight after leaving the barrack. In a way, it warms your heart he did it, however, you can’t help but think of how tired he must be. 

Also, seeing him with the uniform makes you weak. It’s the first time you’re seeing him for real wearing it, and let’s just say that he’s more than fine. Without sounding too horny, you’d even say that you’d open your legs right now if he’d ask.  

“Hey, Jungkook,” you say once you’re right in front of him. “What are you doing here?” 

The man in front of you kisses your cheek, causing shivers all over your body. Your smile grows bigger. This part of your life is filled with so much happiness, something you wouldn’t have imagined a couple of months ago when you turned 30. It’s so surprising how life can completely change in a second. Meeting Jungkook has drastically changed your life but you wouldn’t have wanted it in any other way. 

“Hello, yn,” his eyes don’t leave yours. “Just wanted to see your pretty face since I couldn’t for the past week.” 

Your cheeks instantly turn red but you take the compliment. Your eyes are lost in his, people around you completely disappeared. It’s just you and him. For a brief moment, his eyes look down at your lips yet you don’t notice it otherwise you would have maybe kissed him. His right hand caresses your cheek causing your eyes to close for a split second. 

“There’s a nice bar/coffee place where I’d like to take you,” he breaks this intimate moment with his words. 

You nod. He takes your hand to guide you until the place he’s talking about. It’s actually not too far from your workplace. As you step inside, you can’t help but find it extremely cozy. There are quite a few people, not a lot but still. At the end, you notice there’s a photobooth. A couple is leaving it with a bright smile on their faces before they check out the pictures they took. As you see them, you desire nothing more than to try it with Jungkook. It’ll create great memories. 

“Could we take pictures in the photobooth?” you ask pouting to get what you want. 

The man holding your hand doesn’t resist so he nods. A broad smile spreads across your face, filling you with happiness that he accepted. Now, you’re the one guiding him to the end of the bar. He’s also smiling as it brings a lot of joy to him to be with you right now. It’s his only free day of the week, and all he wanted was to be with you. You’ve brightened his life the second you appeared. 

When you open the curtains to get inside the little cabin, you freeze as you realize that there’s only a small stool. But before you say anything, Jungkook gets inside, sits on the tool and places you on his lap. It definitely surprises you but it also warms your heart. You close the curtain before taking a look at the man that has been making your heart beat for the past month. 

“Since we’re here,” he starts. 

You notice a little bit of nervousness in his eyes, and for some unknown reason, it increases the pace of your heartbeat. 

“The reason I wanted to bring you here,” he’s clearly nervous, especially since you’re really close to him. “Because I wanted to ask you if you’d want to become my girlfriend.” 

Now, for sure, your heart is beating like crazy and at the same time melting at his words. It’s incredibly adorable that he actually raised the question, none of your exes did it previously. On top of it, he looks absolutely charming. This man owns your heart. Honestly, it means the world that he took the time to raise the question. At least, it will be official the second you say ‘yes’. 

Since he’s scared to be rejected, he starts to fill the void. “It’s my only day off and all I wanted was to see you to ask...” Before he can even finish his sentence, you gently press your lips on his while grabbing his face in your hands. It’s a simple smack but one that says a thousand words. One that finally happens after all those weeks of flirting. One that finally resumes how you’ve been feeling. Hopelessly in love. 

“Yes,” you reply when you break the kiss. 

The largest and most radiant smile lights up his face. His smile is quite contagious as you smile back at him. The two of you are simply and utterly filled with happiness. Jungkook presses his lips on yours for a passionate kiss. 

The kiss is sweet and tender, there’s no rush or anything else in it. This moment has been desired by the two of you for a little while already. His strong arms wrap tighter around you almost as if he’s scared you’ll disappear.  

His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. Never a man has kissed you like that. Your heart is pounding extremely hard on your chest while the butterflies on your lower stomach are making you feel completely alive. 

Your little hands cup his face while you kiss him passionately. There’s absolutely no doubt that he’s a good kisser. This first kiss with him will for sure be a memorable one unless he gets even better at kissing with time. Out of breath, you break the kiss. 

“Maybe we should take those pictures before people throw us out of here,” you say. 

Jungkook nods before inserting a coin. In a matter of seconds, the little screen shows that you should press play, and he follows the instruction. You strike a first pose, you’re both looking at the camera with a gleaming smile. For the second pose, Jungkook presses a kiss on your cheek which makes you blush. For the third one, he kisses you tenderly. 

This will be without any doubt a memorable day. 

Once the kiss is over, you leave the little cabin. Two sets of pictures are printed. You grab them and hand one to Jungkook. Your eyes stare at the pictures, they are wonderful. For you, they clearly show the way you feel about each other. The way Jungkook makes you happy. The way you love him. 

For the past 3 months, you’ve been in a relationship with Jungkook. It’s a bit odd to be dating a soldier. Honestly, you always kind of had a bad image of them when it comes to relationships. Yes, they are brave, and it’s truly admirable that they sacrifice themselves for the nation. But you always believed they were womanizers, something that your boyfriend has been proving you wrong. He’s actually far from being a Don Juan. Iseul has also mentioned it a million times. 

As you noticed, even if he’s assertive when it comes to you, he’s actually quite reserved. Hence, he never had a lot of girlfriends. It’s difficult for him to approach women but he confessed that with you, it was easy. He felt that he could be himself without feeling judged. He felt that he didn’t need to hold back to impress. He felt that he could simply be Jungkook. Sometimes, you feel that his shyness and his job are simply contradictory. But for you, it’s what makes him special. 

Today, Jungkook gets to leave the barrack a bit earlier and he invites you to spend the night at his place. Quite frankly, you’re a bit nervous. Lately, your conversation almost always deviates in a way into sex, you’re grateful to have those conversations. However, you realize that one day, you’ll make love. You haven’t done anything so far, even oral sex. None of you has really made it happen even though it’s quite obvious that there’s a massive physical attraction. 

Having sex is making you nervous because it’s been a while since you last did it. Of course, it’s naturally something you crave but you’re scared to be bad at it. You’re scared that this first time together will be a disaster which you don’t want. You don’t want it to be perfect too. All you want it to be is pleasurable.  

When you’re at the door of the building complex, you ring the doorbell. He lets you in so you take the elevator to reach the 5th floor. Jungkook is living in a little building complex, it only has 5 floors so his apartment is on the last floor. Per floors, there aren’t many apartments which makes this little complex quite cozy. When you reach the 5th floor, you walk until the door of his apartment. The door is a tiny bit opened, you still knock at the door. 

“Come in,” Jungkook screams. 

You do as he says, but you make sure to close the door behind you. The apartment is plunged into darkness, except it is lit with candles a bit everywhere. There are petals indicating you the path to follow, this is incredibly romantic. As you reach the living room, you notice that a table was put in the middle with dinner already served. Next to the table, Jungkook is standing tall with a bright smile on his face. In his hand, he’s holding a bouquet. It’s a pretty massive one but a wonderful one.

He looks absolutely stunning. 

Even in the darkness of the room, you can see how handsome he looks, and honestly, as long as he’s smiling, he looks stunning to you. With Jungkook, it’s not only about the looks. Most of the time, you find him stunning on the inside. The way he brings you comfort, the way he takes care of you, the way he treats you makes him absolutely handsome. His extremely hot physique is only an extra.   

A smile instantly appears on your face as you walk in his direction. 

“This is your monthly bouquet,” he says while handing you the bouquet. 

You take it, while plunging your nose in it to smell the sweet fragrance of the flowers. The bouquets that he chooses always have the best perfume. Your apartment always smells like heaven, and the sweet fragrance of flowers is something that you now associate with Jungkook. 

“This time around you went out of your way to offer them,” you teasingly say. 

The smile on your boyfriend’s face grows bigger. He looks particularly glowy today, something special irradiates from him. He breaks the tiny little space between you, you move the bouquet to your right so Jungkook doesn’t smash it as he gets closer to you. His right hand rests on your back, drawing you nearer to him. You look up at him, your faces barely away from each other, and before you can even comprehend he crashes his lips on yours for a gentle kiss. 

“I’ll do everything to make my girlfriend happy,” he whispers against your lips. 

Those words free some little butterflies in your stomach, and you can’t help but smile at his words. Never before have you been this happy. You rest your head against his chest. Every day for the past months, you’ve been feeling extra lucky. Jungkook holds you tight in this heartfelt embrace. 

“I’m so lucky to have you,” you mutter. 

Even if you thought he didn’t listen to you, he did but said nothing. All he did was smile like an idiot and feel even more grateful to have met you. 

His entire life he thought he’d never manage to find someone because it’s been hard to find someone that looks beyond his body. Every girl that he meets simply wants to have sex with him. The combo of being in the military and having a buff body has attracted many girls, but they crave something that he doesn’t want. Plus, he’s also quite shy so he feels awkward every time he’s around a good-looking girl.  

But he fell hard for you. And every day, he falls even harder, something he never thought possible. 

He presses a gentle kiss on your head. “We should start eating before it gets too cold,” he informs you. You nod before breaking apart from him. 

He suggests putting the flowers on the little coffee table that he put in one corner. You look once more around you, it astonishes you how wonderful his place looks when being lit up by candles. Jungkook takes the time to admire his marvelous girlfriend, you. You’re wearing a light pastel orange dress, it’s a nice dress you found in Zara. A bit expensive but a pretty one for a date. 

The dinner goes quite well, but you both drink a lot of wine. To some extent, it was a way for you to relax a bit, you’re quite obviously a bit nervous. Your boyfriend notices it. However, he understands it. The sexual conversations have turned him on, and his girlfriend is extremely sexy. Every time he lays eyes on you, he can’t help but think that you’re the sexiest woman he has ever seen. Even his exes don’t even get close to how sexy you are. 

And that dress you’re wearing, uff… he can’t even think properly. 

Jungkook is aware that you haven’t shared an intimate moment with a man in a while so he perfectly understands your nervousness. His last intercourse happened like 8 months ago, it was with a girl Iseul was trying to set him up with. Needless to say, a couple of days later, it ended. 

As the gentleman that he is, he doesn’t try anything nor does he say anything sexual. His priority is to make you feel safe around him. He can wait, there are other ways to relieve himself while he patiently waits for you to be ready. On your side, you’re genuinely thankful he exhibits great patience with you.  

In the end, you ended up falling asleep in his bed with him. Both of you wanted to spend the night together. For sure, you’re aware that there are some chances that you end up making love but with the alcohol in your system, it kind of makes you less nervous about it. 

In the middle of the night, you’re both woken up by a strange noise. At first, it definitely seems weird but quickly, the noise is accompanied by moans. You blush as you realize that Jungkook’s neighbors are having sex. You hide yourself under the blanket, and it makes Jungkook chuckle. 

“It’s not funny,” you tell him. 

“It is,” he says as he joins you under the blanket. 

There’s barely any light so you can’t properly see him. 

“It’s so embarrassing to hear people making love.” 

“Why so?” he raises. 

“Because it’s supposed to be an intimate moment and knowing that neighbors can hear you destroys the intimacy of the moment,” you answer. 

A little smile appears on his face. He undoubtedly finds you extremely adorable, and it’s incredibly obvious that it’s been a while since your last intercourse. When it comes to sex, sometimes, he feels like he’s older than you due to the obvious fact that he has some more experience. In reality, you’re older than him but most of the time, it doesn’t feel like it.     

“They don’t even realize that,” he says.  

“How could they? I mean, they should know that they are being loud.” 

“They are enjoying the moment and not realizing that they are moaning a bit too loud,” he adds. “Don’t you remember the last time you made love?” he asks. “Normally, you’re so absorbed that you don’t even comprehend if you’re making too much noise or not.”   

For a minute, you think about it. He’s not wrong, when you’re in the moment, you only care about the pleasure, not about the noises nor how dirty sex can be. It’s just you and your partner. 

“They definitely sound like they’re having fun,” he teasingly adds. 

You know that he’s trying to lighten the mood but you’re still slightly embarrassed. You try to relax a bit, this is a natural thing. Couples make love, even strangers have sex for fun. In any case, it’s normal. There’s no need to be ashamed or embarrassed. 

“For sure,” you reply with a little smile. 

Jungkook is glad that you’re replying to his little tease. Your boyfriend gets a little closer to you, his hand caressing your arm. 

“Even under the blanket, we can perfectly hear them,” he retorts. 

You chuckle at his words. You’re grateful that he’s trying to make you feel comfortable. For you, it proves once more how beautiful on the inside he is. 

“But let me tell you that they are even louder during the day,” he tells you. “They make love a lot of time.” 

“Oh, so you’ve been listening to this quite a lot?” you ask. 

“Yep,” he simply says. “On a Friday evening, when I come back from the army, I get to hear them all night long to my greatest delight. And don’t be here on a Sunday…” 

Now, it’s a little laugh that escapes your lips. This sound is what warms your boyfriend’s heart. He loves to hear you laugh, and what he adores more is to see the way your face lights up. Right now, he can’t see your face well so he pictures it.   

“It mustn't be funny,” you say. “It also explains why we barely come here.”

“Eeeh, you finally get it,” he states. 

His hand moves higher to reach your cheek and he keeps doing some circles to shoote you. It certainly works. 

“They are always on fire so it’s better to avoid being here,” he adds. “Especially when I was single.” 

“So now that you’re not single, it’s easier?” you ask while raising an eyebrow. 

A smile appears on his face. Having you has made everything easier. And for sure, it’s less of a torture to hear his neighbors having sex because all he can think about is you.

“For sure, I can think of my wonderful girlfriend to distract myself from this torture.”   

Now, your hand moves to his cheek to caress it. Your boyfriend closes his eyes when your soft fingers touch him. 

“I still don’t get how such a wonderful man like you had trouble finding someone,” you express. 

His hand places a strand of hair behind your ear. 

“Nice men have trouble finding someone,” he informs you. “Girls usually prefer bad boys over a guy that treats them right. I was shy too so it definitely didn't help and being in the army only attracted women who wanted sex. I was never interesting enough.” 

You can hear his voice breaking at the end. It hurts to hear those words, especially coming from a man with a golden heart. In just over 3 months, he has made you feel so special like no other man has before. 

But he only states the truth. Most girls chase bad boys, almost as if they hope to change them into nice boys but it’s never the case. They always end up breaking their hearts. Nice men are not seen enough, and it breaks your heart, especially since now you’re dating one. 

“You are more than interesting, Jk,” you say. 

You press a soft kiss on his lips. 

“You’re the first girl that truly sees me for who I am.” 

This breaks your heart even more. Jungkook deserves the world, and he deserves more than anybody else to be happy. 

“And you’re the first man that truly sees me for who I am,” you instantly tell him. 

His neighbors are still making love but now you don’t hear them, you are simply absorbed by each other. There’s only you. The world around you completely disappeared. 

Now, it’s Jungkook who presses a gentle kiss on your lips. His lips are so soft on yours, the tenderness of the kiss making your heart melt completely. However, this gentle kiss slowly turns into a passionate and fervent one. A kiss that speaks a thousand words. A kiss that says that you love each other. A kiss that makes you both feel seen. It’s a kiss that you both craved for years.  

You’re deeply kissing each other, and by the looks of it, this kiss is for sure going to take a heated turn. A turn that both of you want. You’ve been obviously nervous about this but right now, there’s nothing more that you crave. Your only wish right now is to feel even more loved by this wonderful soldier. 

His impatient hands move down to your waist to bring you even closer to him. They run up and down your waist, making you more than happy to have his large tattooed hands on your body. Your hands, on the other side, go to his hair to softly run through it. 

“I’ve fallen so hard in love with you, yn,” he says as he breaks the kiss. 

As much as you can, you look at him with an idiot smile on your face. There are millions of fireworks inside you caused by what he just said. There’s no more doubt that you’re madly in love with this man. He owns your heart. 

“Maybe not as much as I did,” you add.       

Jungkook presses a peck on your lips before he kisses the corner of your lips down to the underside of your jaw, causing little moans to escape your mouth each time his lips touch your skin. Jungkook is making you feel alive and also driving you into complete euphoria. Even though you’re starting to get lost, you’re slowly realising what is about to happen. You’re going to make love with your boyfriend.  

In the end, there was no reason to feel nervous to share an intimate moment with your boyfriend. He loves you. And he will obviously do everything to help you feel good.  

He drops his head to your neck, kissing the base of your throat. You moan as he starts leaving a trail of kisses, the feeling of his mouth on your throat is divine. Everything he does exceeds all your expectations. Regardless of your nervousness, you of course dreamt of what it would be to have sex with him. So far, he’s undoubtedly surpassing all of your expectations.  

Your hands run through his hair, tugging at the roots. A moan escapes his pretty lips, his voice vibrating against your skin. This slowly starts to feel like heaven. His lips move up again to meet yours for another fervent kiss. 

“It’s getting too hot under this blanket,” he affirms. 

“Yep,” you manage to say. 

Jungkook removes the blanket from your bodies, and you can finally see him somewhat better. His short hair looks messy, causing a bright smile to appear on your face. Instantly, the urge to run your fingers through his hair comes across your mind. There’s no need to say that you did it, and that he loved feeling your fingers in his hair. 

“You’re breathtakingly beautiful,” he whispers while his eyes scan your face. 

“Thanks, Jk,” you smile at him. “And you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on.” 

The way you both make each other feel is so indescribable but you’re absolutely sure to have found the right person. You make each other feel special. 

“I want to make love to you, yn,” he lets you know. “I’m craving you so much.” 

You kiss him. You also crave him in an unimaginable way. His large hands caress your waist while you both look intensely at each other before you uncover your bodies frim the blanket. In a matter of seconds, you’re fully naked in front of each other. Your eyes glance down at his cock. In all honesty, it’s quite big.

“It’s massive,” you look up at him. “How have you been hiding it in your pants?” he giggles at your words.

“That’s something that I’ve been wondering every day for the past 3 months,” he says, clearly making you understand that he gets pretty hard around you every day. 

Without any warning, you wrap your hand around the base of his dick. This sudden move surprises him which causes him to whimper. Your eyes watch down at his impressive crotch. The head is red, precum running down his length and over that prominent vein that lines it. You rub your thumb over the tip before going down on his shaft, spreading his arousal all over him. A deep moan leaves his lips as your hands finally touch him, his head falling completely on the pillow.       

“Oh,” he growls. 

Slowly, you start pumping him, taking your time, your hand gliding up and down his length. A trail of groans leaves his lips while you pump him nice and slow, giving him a dreamy handjob. Every time your hand reaches the base, Jungkook shivers, loving deeply how you’re pleasing him.

Your boyfriend is a bit surprised by the fact that you’re doing this handjob quite amazingly. Sometimes, with your reactions when it comes to sex, he forgets that you had exes so for sure you have some experience. Maybe not a lot but it’s still something. And now, he’s realizing that you perfectly know how to do things.   

On your side, you want to give him more. You know your hand is just not enough, he needs more to come undone. So you dip down to kiss the head of his cock, his eyes instantly opening as this is unexpected. You lick his tip, his precum coating your wet muscle before you wrap your mouth entirely around his cock, sinking down fully on his length. 

“Damn, yn,” he groans, loving the warmth of your mouth around him. He swears that he’s about to fall apart, covering your mouth with his cum. 

Your eyes look up to meet with his. The moment they lock ⏤ both your eyes completely filled with lust ⏤ he looks away, too scared to burst right there. As much as he’d love to fill your pretty mouth with his seed, he doesn’t want to come right now. There’s still so much to be done. 

“Love,” he says while his hand moves down to your hair, grabbing it before pulling your head a little. “I don’t want to come right now.” 

Your lips leave his length, letting it slap against his lower abdomen before you crawl up his body to kiss him again languidly. Jungkook can taste his salty precum on your lips and he adores it. Damn, he loves everything about this moment with you. 

“Do you have a condom?” you whisper on his lips. 

“Of course, angel,” he replies. 

Well, he always has some condoms in his bedroom as well as in his wallet. He’s always prepared in case anything like this happens. Even if he adores you, there’s no way that he’s doing it without protection. Your health is more important than anything else and also, it’s way too soon to take the risk of having a baby. 

While he stands up to grab a condom in a drawer of the nightstand, you lay on your back, your eyes looking up at the ceiling. Strangely, you feel extremely happy that you’re taking this step in your relationship. It’s creating a deeper connection between you. A very intimate bond. When Jungkook gets back on the bed with his condom in his hand, he bites his bottom lip. 

“You’re so beautiful, love,” he whispers, scanning every part of your body. You’re even prettier than in his dream. 

The man doesn’t waste any time ripping the plastic and putting the condom on his length. Honestly, you ignore what to do so you simply watch him. On his knees, he gets closer to your body and he slowly and delicately spreads your legs. For a brief moment, he gazes at your core, causing him to bite his lower lip. While holding his cock, he brushes it against your pussy to get you wetter. He wants you to be as wet as possible to be ready for him. 

“Can I?” he asks. 

It melts your heart that this man asks for your consent before going any further. Rare are the men who did it before. Once again, it proves to you that you found the right person.   

When you nod, he slowly buries his thick cock inside your soaked core, stretching your velvety walls. His large hands find their way to your waist, caressing your soft skin while his doe eyes filled with lust look into yours. Both of you groan as he slowly pushes his long and thick cock inside you.  

“So good,” you mumble as your eyes roll back. 

You have to admit that it hurts a bit since it’s been a while since you last had sexual intercourse but the fact that he’s slowly filling you up to the brim helps. It gives time to your body to get used to this massive intrusion. But it feels so damn good to have him inside you. This is even better than in your wildest dreams. Jungkook leans closer, pushing his cock a bit deeper inside you and snatching a loud moan out of you. 

“It feels so good, love,” his deep voice groans in your ear. “Even better than in my dreams.” 

The fact that he has been dreaming about this too gets you wetter. In a way, it makes sense to you since you’ve had some heated exchanges. You kiss his shoulder before giving it a gentle bite. 

“Oh, looks like the prude yn hides a wild side of her,” he teasingly says while pulling back a bit. 

“Good girls are bad girls that haven’t been caught,” you sing, making reference to a band, 5 Seconds of Summer, that you love. 

“Couldn’t agree more with that sentence,” your boyfriend adds as he keeps pushing back to only leave the tip of his cock inside you. 

Brutally, he pushes his cock fully inside you, and a loud moan leaves your lips. For a little while, he doesn't move, hovering over you and watching you with delight. His eyes look down on your body. He’s surprised by how insanely perfect you are. Your body is for sure the prettiest one he has ever seen. 

Unlike what everyone thinks, he’s not fond of skinny bodies. He loves curves and imperfect bodies because they show life. They show that their owners eat to live, and your curves drive him crazy. He could come just by looking at your ass.  

His lips meet yours for a sloppy kiss before going down to your neck, leaving another trail of kisses on your skin. Needless to say, it makes you moan a bit more. Once he has tortured you enough, his eyes get lost in your body again, groaning as he watches himself buried deep inside you. 

“Uff, you’re driving me crazy, my love.”

You close your eyes, completely enjoying having him fully inside you. You’re completely euphoric at the feeling of him stretching your walls. Once he sees that you’re ready to take more, he pulls back brutally before slamming himself back into you. The bed under you squeaks, the headboard hitting the wall just behind you. The slick sound of your pussy soaking his cock as well as your moans quickly fill the room. 

“Jungkook,” you gasp while he thrusts into you.

This all causes sparks of pleasure to shoot throughout your body, your arousal dripping from your core and creaming his cock. Jungkook smirks as he notices the sticky mess you’re causing. You grip the sheets as hard as possible to steady yourself from Jungkook’s hard thrusts. 

Neither of you can believe that this is happening tonight. In some way, you’re grateful that his neighbors started having some nasty time. Without them, probably nothing would have happened. You can’t even believe you were so nervous and embarrassed minutes ago. And now, you’re making love with the man you love.  

“You’re so wet, love,” he hisses before biting his lower lip. His hands press harder into your skin when he feels your walls tighten around him. “And making such a mess on my cock.” 

Every time he pushes his hips back, he watches with delight the way his cock is completely covered with your arousal. Nothing drives him crazier than seeing this, it is as if your bodies were made for each other.  

Jungkook bends down, pressing a sloppy kiss on your lips while his thrusts slow down. A desperate whine gushes from you, a sound that he proudly swallows. His hands go up to your body, grabbing your breasts and squeezing them to make you moan with desire before his mouth goes down on your body to play with your nipples. 

“It feels so good,” you whine. 

His thrusts are slow and harsh again, and his teeth on your nipples are just too much for you. Gradually, Jungkook begins to thrust hard into you again, and you moan at the feeling of his brutal thrust. Your walls suck his cock as he slams his hips into you with more force. Everything that your boyfriend does pushes you closer and closer to the edge. 

His eyes look up at you, contorting with pleasure as it slowly builds within you. Little moans keep flooding out of your mouth, and Jungkook is adoring to hear you moan. His hands can feel the way your body quivers with each thrust. The way he’s torturing your body is only making you lose yourself further. He just knows how to pleasure you perfectly like he became a master of your body in just some minutes.   

“Your cunt is clenching so hard, love,” he says when he feels the warmth of your walls wrapping tighter around him

As you glance up at him, you can’t help but find him extremely attractive. His eyes stare down at you with passion and lust as his tongue licks his lower lips. He simply can’t believe that this is really happening. He can’t believe that he’s making love to the prettiest woman in the world. He leans forward once more to press another sloppy kiss on your lips. He loves to feel your lips on his, even if the kiss is a disaster. 

“Oh my god,” you barely manage to say while you have a first orgasm. Your body shakes crazily, and Jungkook is happier than ever to see you being overwhelmed by pleasure.   

The vision of you coming undone makes his cock twitch inside of you. However, he wants you to experience more orgasms. There’s no way that he’s going to end this moment without having you come more than once. One of his hands slowly goes down on your body, passing your stomach, and landing on your throbbing clit. His fingers start to rub your sensitive spot. 

To be honest, this action only makes your orgasm more intense and longer. Your arousal completely covers his cock and your walls squeeze him over and over again. This is heaven for him. He could stop right now and he’d be more than happy because he gave you a lot of pleasure. 

He speeds up the pace of his hips slamming into you. The coil in his lower stomach tightens inside of him, and it completely clouds his thoughts. His increase in pace causes you to have a second orgasm in a matter of seconds.  

Breathy whines escape his pretty lips as he looks down at the mess you’re making on his cock. A desperate moan leaves his mouth when his orgasm hits him hard. His eyes roll back with pleasure as his body tenses up and releases his load inside the condom. He collapses next to you, both of your bodies covered in sweat after this intense sex session. Your heavy breathing is now the only thing that can be heard in your bedroom. 

Jungkook throws the condom on the floor before laying again next to you on his bed. His eyes look at you with marvel. You’re so damn wonderful. 

“Uff, love! This was something,” he says as he presses a gentle kiss on your cheek. “Did you enjoy it?”

Even though you had 2 orgasms one after the other, he still wants to make sure that you loved this steamy session. 

“Of course!” you directly answer. 

Your lips find his for a little kiss. 

“I’m glad to hear that!” a bright smile appears on his face. 

As you look at your delighted boyfriend, you feel a wave of happiness wash over you. Yep, this is what you’ve been desiring for years. Being this in love and sharing such a wonderful intimate moment with the person you love is what you’ve been looking for. 

Right there and then, you comprehend what you were made for. You were made to fall in love with Jungkook.

[chancloud8]

CHAPTER 1

series masterlist

Pairing: OT8 x reader

Word Count: 3,9k

Tags: Intro, bodyguard!ot8, idol!reader

Summary: Meeting your new bodyguards doesn't go as smoothly as everyone hoped..

‘I don’t need a group of bodyguards,’ you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time. 

Your manager Yoona doesn’t even look at you anymore and you fight the urge to stamp your feet like a little child to get her attention. You won’t stoop that low though, so instead you place your hands on your hips and glare at the woman who’s been by your side since you debuted about two years ago. 

‘We’re not having this discussion again, y/n,’ Yoona says, her eyes still fixed on her phone screen. ‘Your popularity is growing by the day, you’ve received multiple death threats in the last few months and in case you forgot, last week someone tried to break into your home.’ 

Your shoulders deflate and your hands fall down beside your body. You can’t really argue with that, but you’ve grown so accustomed to having Faris at your side as your one and only bodyguard, that the thought of eight men taking his place makes you shiver. Who the hell needed eight freaking bodyguards? You weren’t a princess for fuck’s sake. 

Yoona finally looks at you then. ‘It’s very important to us to keep you safe, darling. I know it will be an adjustment, but you’ll get used to it.’ 

‘But eight?’ you argue, trying once more. ‘Do I really need eight men following my every move?’ 

‘That’s why we’re placing some of them around you with other jobs as well, kind of like undercover bodyguards,’ Yoona smiles at you like that makes it any better. 

You slump down in the chair across from Yoona and frown at her. What could bodyguards possibly go undercover as in your team? Woman, sure, no problem, but a muscled man? They’d stand out immediately. 

‘What do you mean?’ you ask carefully, not sure if you even want to know. 

‘They all have multiple skill sets, but we decided on adding three of them as your dancers and one will probably step in as a personal assistant of sorts,’ Yoona explains, her eyes once more on her phone screen. 

‘Why?’ you blurt out. ‘I don’t even need new dancers? We’re not firing anyone are we?’ 

You were perfectly happy with your team as it was and it would kill you to let any of them go because Yoona decided you needed eight freaking men to watch you. 

Yoona sighed and put down her phone. ‘We’re not firing anyone, but Dohyun is still recovering from his injury and Ju-won has asked for a few months off to visit his family. As for why, it will allow them to be around you more casually.’ 

Damnit. That actually made sense. 

‘And you’re sure they can dance?’ you ask, already knowing the answer. Yoona would never suggest something like this if they couldn’t. 

‘Yes, y/n, they can dance. I think you’ll be impressed actually.’ 

That makes you curious. Yoona isn’t easily impressed, so if she thinks you’ll approve, they must be good. Maybe you should give them a chance, or just be such a brat they run away screaming. 

‘Fine,’ you sigh. ‘When will I meet them?’ 

Yoona looks at her watch and your eyes widen at the movement. She wouldn’t do this to you, would she? 

‘They’ll be here in an hour to meet you,’ Yoona says and you let out a relieved breath. ‘You better be back here by then or I will let one of them drag you here by your ear.’ 

‘Bossy much,’ you whisper, but you don’t really mean it. You luckily have a very good relationship with your manager and even though she drives you up a wall sometimes, you know she has your best interest at heart. 

Yoona rolls her eyes at you and waves her hand at the door. ‘Go be bratty somewhere else, I’ll see you in an hour.’ 

You bark out a laugh and jump up from the chair. ‘As you wish, my Queen,’ you say, doing a little courtesy. 

Your current bodyguard Faris is waiting for you in the hallway, a smile on his handsome face as he spots you. 

‘Good talk?’ he asks, following one step behind you. 

‘You knew about this, didn’t you?’ you ask, glaring at him over your shoulder. 

‘I’m the one who recommended them actually,’ Faris says and only his quick reflexes stop him from walking straight into your back as you stop walking immediately at his words. 

‘What?’ you turn around to frown at him. ‘Why would you do that to me?’ 

Faris raises his eyebrows and stares down at you with a knowing look, his arms crossing over his chest. 

‘Fine,’ you roll your eyes at him. ‘I know why, Yoona was so kind to remind me, but I still don’t get why it has to be eight.’ 

‘It might seem excessive to you Nabi,’ Faris says, addressing you with your stage name which he knows usually softens you. ‘But you don’t see all that we see and trust me when I say that once you’re on tour, you’ll be happy to have them by your side. It gets crazy out there.’ 

‘I know that, but undercover bodyguards?’ you make a face. ‘I’m not royalty.’ 

Faris chuckles and with a gentle push on your shoulder, he guides you further through the hallway and towards the studio you were working at before Yoona called you to her office. It was one of the things you really liked about your agency. Nearly everything you needed was in the same building. 

‘You may as well be and I trust Chan and his guys to keep you safe,’ Faris says as he holds a door open for you. 

‘So you really know them?’ you ask, sitting down at the desk you were working at before. Your laptop is still open on the editing program you work with and there are multiple notebooks, paper coffee cups and empty candy wrappers spread all around it. ‘Did you work with them before?’ 

‘I trained 3RACHA actually,’ Faris nods. ‘Chan and I had multiple gigs together after that and I’ve only heard good things about the others as well. I’m confident I’m leaving you in good hands.’ 

‘You shouldn’t be leaving me at all,’ you groan, throwing your head back against your chair. ‘But I understand and I hope that when I have a husband one day, he'll do the same for me.’ 

Faris just smiles at that and gets comfortable on the couch facing the door. He knows better than to get into this conversation with you again. Last time you ended up facetiming his wife in tears and he ended up having to calm down two crying women. 

‘Wait, did you just say sriracha?’ you sit up in your chair when your brain suddenly realizes what he had just said. ‘As in the hot sauce?’

‘No, I said 3RACHA, that’s what they called themselves back then,’ Faris replies, glancing at you. ‘I think they made music together in their free time, before they started their own company.’ 

Huh. Interesting. Why on earth would they go from making music together to becoming bodyguards? 

‘So all eight of them made music together?’ you ask curiously. 

‘No, just Chan, Jisung and Changbin. I think they mostly rapped, but if you’re interested in knowing more, you can always ask. It could break the ice when you meet them,’ Faris suggests, winking at you. 

‘I’ll pass, I don’t want them to think I’m happy about this arrangement,’ you murmur, turning your chair so your back is to Faris. ‘Will you tell me when it’s time to go?’ 

‘Don’t I always?’ he chuckles. 

You flip him off without looking and put on your headphones. Time to edit some more music. 

****

You’re so engrossed in your music, that it takes Faris multiple tries to get you to put down your headphones. He even goes as far as opening the blinds to let the light in, making you whimper and flinch by the intrusion of it. 

‘Alright, alright,’ you yell, your eyes scrunched close. ‘I beg for mercy, I’ll come with you.’ 

Faris laughs and closes the blinds, once again developing the room in darkness, just how you like it. He has scolded you many times before about how bad it is for your eyes to squint at your screen in a dark room, but you rarely listen to him about it. 

‘If you think about telling my new watch dogs this trick of yours, I’ll haunt you,’ you warn Faris when the two of you walk towards Yoona’s office. 

Faris makes a movement with his hands as if he’s zipping his lips closed and you nod happily at him, trusting him to keep his word. 

‘How late are we?’ you ask, having forgotten your phone in the studio when Faris basically dragged you out by your arm. 

‘About five minutes too early,’ he smiles proudly. 

Of fucking course. He’s been working with you for two years so he knows all your annoying traits by now, including having a habit of being late because you simply forget the time when you’re working. 

‘What will I do without you,’ you pout at him, ignoring the nervous butterflies in your stomach as you near Yoona’s office. 

‘You’ll be just fine, Nabi,’ Faris says and you’re not sure if he means it as a reply to what you just said or as a reassurance before meeting your new team of bodyguards. 

Taking a deep breath, you turn towards Faris. ‘How do I look?’ 

‘I thought you didn’t care?’ he grins, but he reaches out to flatten a few wild strands of your hair. 

You blow him a kiss, put on a straight face and turn around to knock on the door before pushing it open. The first thing you’re greeted with is the silhouette of 4 men standing with their back to you. Each of them have broad muscular shoulders that are clearly visible under the black suit jacket they’re wearing, the fabric straining like they’re wearing a size too small. 

The man on the right turns around when you enter and you nearly gasp at his beauty. His hair is styled to show a little v of his forehead and the black strands nearly reach his eyes. Jesus. He could be a model if he wanted too. He raises his eyebrows at you when you just stare at him for a moment, before he nudges the man next to him. 

‘Are you fucking kidding me,’ you mutter under your breathe when the other man turns around and piercing eyes meet yours. 

Of course he’s beautiful as well. What the hell was Yoona thinking? 

‘Ah, Y/N, there you are,’ Yoona says when she notices you. ‘On time, even.’ 

You roll your eyes and stroll forward to her desk, ignoring the four men as you make your way around them. In that little moment you forget there’s supposed to be more of them and when you turn to stand next to Yoona and see the chairs in front of her desk filled with four more gorgeous men, you nearly stumble. 

Yoona grins at you and you narrow your eyes at the woman. 

‘You think this is funny, don’t you?’ you grumble at her. ‘Where did you even find them? heaven?’ 

One of the men snorts before trying to cover it up with a cough. 

‘Don’t mind her gentleman, she’s in a mood today,’ Yoona smiles. 

‘I wonder why,’ you mutter, sending a fake smile in the direction of the bodyguards. 

‘That’s alright, it must be a lot to take in,’ one of them says with such a deep voice that your eyes widen. 

It must look comical, cause the same man that snorted earlier, lets out a giggle. ‘Don’t worry, Miss, it’s how everyone reacts to first hearing Felix’s voice,’ 

You want to focus on him calling you Miss, but the urge to see which face belongs to the deep voice is stronger.

‘Who’s Felix?’ you ask, your eyes searching the men in front of you. 

‘I am,’ the only blonde man of the group says, lifting his hand to show you where he is. He’s absolutely stunning with freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks. 

‘Holy shit, is that your real voice?’ you ask without thinking, slapping your hand in front of your mouth as soon as the words come out. 

He laughs and a few of the other men chuckle as well. 

‘It is, sometimes it gets even deeper,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, Lix actually has like three different voices,’ the man who called you Miss grins. 

It’s getting annoying not to know his name, but you don’t want to ask and seem interested. Luckily one of the men at the back seems to read your mind somehow. 

‘Why don’t we all introduce ourselves, my name is Bang Chan, but you can call me Chan. I’m the leader and head of your security team as of now. So if you experience any problems with our service in any way, I’m the one you can come to.’ 

‘Noted,’ you mumble, ignoring Yoona’s glare at your rudeness. 

So that’s Chan. Faris forgot to mention how beautiful his trainee was and you were so going to punch his arm for that later. 

‘I’m Lee Minho,’ the one with the piercing stare says. ‘I’ll be joining your dance team.’ 

Fuck. Of course he is. 

‘So will I,’ Felix smiles. ‘Lee Felix.’

‘And me, Hwang Hyunjin,’ the man closest to you winks. 

Great. They were absolutely going to kill you. In more ways than one. 

Biting your lip you wait for the last four to introduce themselves and pray to all the gods that Miss guy is going to be your assistant. He already feels like the most easy going out of all eight and if you need to work with one of them closely, you’d rather it be him than anyone else. 

‘Kim Seungmin, I’ll be one of your bodyguards’ the one who noticed you first says, his eyes flicking up and down your body as if he’s calculating how much of a flight risk you are. 

Oh just you wait and see buddy. 

‘I’m Yang Jeongin, but you can call me Innie or Ayen,’ the very cute man in front of Seungmin smiles and you nearly smile back at him. 

Finally the man you’ve been waiting for speaks up. ‘I’m Han Jisung, your new assistant.’ 

You cheer in your head, keeping a straight face as you look at the last man. He’s definitely the most buff of them all, his biceps really testing the fabric of his suit jacket. 

‘And I’m Seo Changbin, also part of your daily bodyguard squad.’ 

‘You’re all way too beautiful to be bodyguards,’ you say, crossing your arms with a frown while tapping your foot on the ground. 

Yoona makes a noise beside you and you don’t dare to look at her. She’ll definitely lecture you later, but this is all on her anyways. 

‘Worried your fans will fawn over us?’ Jisung jokes, winking at you. 

Your lips tip up in a tiny smile, but you quickly straighten your face. It was going to be hard to be a brat to them, but you were nothing if you weren’t stubborn. You’re not going to just warm up to them because they were hot and funny. Nope. Not going to happen. 

‘More like you’d be too busy worrying about your good looks to protect me,’ you say, raising your eyebrows at them. 

‘Aren’t you a ray of sunshine,’ Minho grumbles, placing his hand on Jisung’s shoulder as if to comfort him. ‘You won’t have to worry about that, looking this good doesn’t cost us much.’

You open your mouth to reply, but Yoona gets up and goes to stand next to you. 

‘That’s enough Y/N,’ she hisses before smiling her million dollar smile to the men. ‘As you can see Y/N hasn’t really warmed up to the idea of having this many eyes on her all the time.’ 

‘Don’t you have that all the time though,’ Seungmin says directly to you. 

You glare at him. ‘That’s not the same. 

He just shrugs. ‘We don’t want anything from you like your fans or stalkers. We’re not here to be your friends, we’re just here to keep you safe. That’s all that should matter.’ 

His words hit you harder than they should and you can’t help but flinch. The idol life isn't great for maintaining friendships and since you weren’t in a group, the only people you really had around you to talk to were your bodyguard Faris, Yoona and your dancers. You didn’t have a best friend, or even really friends in general, not since high school ended. 

‘Min!’ Chan calls out, glaring at the man. 

You square your shoulders and tilt your head, putting another fake smile on your face. ‘It’s fine, he’s right isn’t he.’ 

‘No, he’s not,’ Chan shakes his head. ‘Listen-’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you repeat, interrupting him. ‘How about I’ll show Jisung his office and we can go over the schedule for next week?’ 

Chan frowns down at you, sharing a look with Jisung and Yoona, but then he nods. You give him a nod back in thanks and without looking at any of the other guys you make a beeline for the door, hoping Jisung will follow you. 

‘Well, that went great,’ you hear someone say before you step outside. 

Faris frowns when he sees the look on your face, but he doesn’t say anything and falls into step behind you like he always does. It’s one of the things you love about him, he always knows when to not ask questions. You can hear him and Jisung quietly talking behind you, but you don’t mind, they know each other after all. 

‘Well, here we are,’ you say, opening the door of the small office area next to the studio you usually work at. ‘You can arrange everything how you like and if you need anything you can ask Yoona.’ 

‘I wasn’t expecting an office,’ Jisung smiles at you, stepping inside the room to take a look. 

It’s not much. Just a desk with a comfortable chair and a computer, a two person couch and in the corner there’s a bookcase that so far only houses a cactus, your first three albums and a box with documents your last assistant left behind. 

‘Of course you get an office, can’t have you shacking up with me in the studio,’ you say, trying to joke with him. 

‘Hey, about what Seungmin said,’ Jisung starts, sitting down in his desk chair and twirling around. ‘He’s just very serious about his job, he didn’t really mean the part about us not being your friends.’ 

‘It’s fine,’ you shrug. ‘You’re not really meant to be my friends anyways, you’re hired to protect me.’ 

‘Yeah, you don’t look too happy about that. Why is that?’ Jisung asks and he sounds genuinely curious. ‘I mean, sure we’re a whole lot, but isn’t it nice to know you’ll be safe?’ 

‘Safe? Yes. Watched by eight, I repeat, eight men? No thank you, I don’t need that.’ 

Jisung tilts his head and purses his lips in thought, like he’s actually trying to see this from your side. ‘I get it, I do, I’ve lived with most of them for the last few years and like I said, we can be a lot.’ 

‘But?’ you ask, falling down on the couch in front of Jisung’s new desk. ‘I feel there’s a but there.’ 

‘You really have no idea, do you?’ Jisung leans his chin on his palm as he looks at you. ‘We’ve seen the threats Y/N, we’ve seen the video’s of handsy fans, we’ve seen the footage of that dude trying to break into your house. It’s a miracle really that nothing has happened to you so far with only Faris by your side.’ 

‘He’s right, Nabi,’ Faris says from his spot by the door. 

‘Okay, maybe more than one bodyguard would be better,’ you say slowly. ‘But eight? I still think it’s a bit much, especially the undercover bit.’ 

Jisung shrugs and leans back in his chair, folding his hands behind his head. ‘Maybe so, but at least you’ll know you will be safe.’ 

‘I guess,’ you mumble. 

‘Wanna go over the schedule for next week with me?’ Jisung asks. ‘Get your mind off all this for a bit?’ 

You jump up from the couch immediately and walk around the desk to stand next to him while he starts up the computer. 

****

About half an hour later you’re fairly confident Jisung will make a good assistant. He’s written down your interviews and gigs for the coming month and made a list of all the things he wanted to take care of before that. It was cute how he wanted to do it right. 

‘Knock, knock,’ a voice called out from the door and when you looked up you saw Chan and Changbin hugging Faris. 

‘How’s it going here?’ Chan smiles at you as he walks inside, his hands in his pocket. He probably tried to come off less intimidating like that, but it didn’t really work. 

‘Fine,’ you say, looking at the computer screen again. 

If you kept your eyes on him you’d probably drool all over your favorite studio outfit. That man was way too fine. 

‘It’s going great, Channie,’ Jisung says. ‘We’ve been getting along perfectly without the ice kings here.’ 

‘Don’t let them hear you call them that,’ Chan chuckles, moving to sit on the couch. ‘I hope we’ll be able to make this work, Y/N. I take great pride in my work and I’ll do anything I can to make you feel comfortable around us.’ 

Ugh. Why did he have to be so kind too? 

‘Thank you,’ you mutter, your eyes still on the screen. 

‘We’ll promise not to impose your privacy too much when we move in, but–’ 

Your head snaps up to look at him then and from the corner of your eyes you notice Jisung covering his face with his hands. 

‘What did you just say?’ you ask, standing up. ‘Please tell me I didn’t just hear you say the words moving in?’ 

‘Uhm,’ Chan tilts his head in confusion. ‘I thought you knew?’ 

‘Knew. What?’ you growl, your fingers balling up in fists. 

‘Oh boy,’ Jisung whispers and you turn to glare at him. 

‘You knew about this?’ 

‘Uhm, we all did? And we figured so would you,’ he shrugs, looking at you with big innocent eyes. 

You close your eyes, not at all immune to those brown doe eyes. If you keep looking at him you will stop being angry and you can’t do that. Not now. 

‘If somebody doesn’t tell me very soon what exactly this thing I’m supposed to know is, I will scream,’ you clench your jaw and take a shaky breath. 

This can’t be happening. They are not moving into your house with you. Yoona won’t do that to you, not after your talk this morning. Right? You close your eyes in frustration, already knowing the answer to your own question. She will. 

‘Such a drama queen,’ a new voice speaks up from the door and when you turn your head, already seeing red, you see Minho smirking at you. 

Changbin and Faris look concerned and when you look back at Chan, he actually looks like he’s pitying you. Fuck. 

‘Just say it already.’

‘Well, we’re supposed to move into your new house with you,’ Chan says, confirming it. 

Oh hell no. 

a/n: eeeeeeekkk I'm so excited for this series you have no idea!! I wasn't going to upload till tomorrow, but @staylovesmiley made me flip a coin and here I am at midnight, feeding you the first chapter.

Please let me know your thoughts <3

taglist: @jaeminie-cricket @jeonginsbaee @staylovesmiley @newbbystay @cashtonsbetch @mariahxrrera @kaleigh-2002 @silencionyx @smileykiddie08 @my-neurodivergent-world @yaorzu-blog @yoongiismylove2018 @staytinyluv @bookswillfindyouaway @queen-thiccness @notastraykid @ateez-atiny380 @estella-novella @furfoxsake22 @hyunjinhoexxx @insomnjen @hannahisnotblue @vivilovesuu @velvetmoonlght @skz8love @eastjonowhere @stellmeiv @bookishcaptain @flylis @deadpool15 @0325ale @thatgirlangelb @iknow-uknow-leeknow @nchhuhi @shycreationdreamland @readr1221 @beewilko

[wtfsteveharrington]

c l o s e t o y o u | carmen berzatto x reader

we've got so much history baby

description: set months after your breakup, you and carmen navigate what it means to be separated. you're trying to move on but waves always return to the ocean.

warnings: kinda angsty but also hurt/comfort. mutual pining even tho you're both trying to pretend it isn't there. miscommunication. kinda mentions of cheating if you squint but not really. no one has cheated but what to call this vibe irdk so! also mentions of using the bathroom if that bothers you!! it's quick!

smut warnings: oral/fingering reader receiving, spanking, dirty talk, hints of dom!carmy, unprotected sex but backshots for 'safety', sexting, semi public sex, lots of hickies/bruises talk bc carmy's a lil shit, multiple mentions of masturbation for both, reader has a drunk bar make out phase post breakup. reader is afab but no major descriptors used.

word count: almost 9.2k. the longest thing i've written so far!

a/n: dare i say this might be my favorite thing i've written possibly. aiming to make this a three part series but possibly could go longer.... i hope you enjoy <3

maybe you and i were meant to be / maybe i'm crazy

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen’s eyes are trained on you from the second your front door opens. His hands stalled halfway through taking off his jacket, only one shoe clattering across your entryway. 

“Where’ve you been tonight?” 

Which you have no choice but to shoot him a warning glance in response. It was late, you didn’t have the energy for a fight and that’s the complete opposite reason of why you texted him to come over. “I was on a date, Carmen.” 

He physically deflated at your answer. “Oh.”

You can’t meet his eye, can’t risk seeing his reaction. Would he be upset? Indifferent? It’s hard to decide which would be worse.

When you had broken up a few months ago the roles were clear - A case of ‘right person, wrong time’. He was busy, so endlessly busy. Working late into the night and heading in randomly during the morning or afternoon if he was needed. Which he could easily decide he was.

For as long as you could remember Carmen always took Tuesdays off to spend with you and get life in order. That way he had Monday to help the restaurant recover from the weekend and could trust them to handle what was, usually, an easier day. It was a tradition you took seriously and the two of you regularly made plans together every single Tuesday. Date nights, day trips, a mixture of adventures. It didn't matter what you were doing together so long as you had Tuesday to look forward to and help get you through the week.

Yet things started picking up. More celebrity dining requests, more magazine and tv interviews, more, more, more.

And it wasn’t that you misunderstood how important the restaurant was. Far from it. There were many nights where Carmen would come home a ball of anxiety because it took an hour longer than he anticipated and he knew it wasn’t fair to you. There would be a mess of apologies as he barreled in the door, bracing himself for a fight or to see your disappointed face. All of which you happily soothed by repeating constant mantras - The restaurant was his baby; you weren’t upset; take a deep breath; we’re okay. 

Then eventually you stopped saying you weren’t upset, stopped saying you two were okay. Eventually you stopped waiting up for him at all. At first Carmen would shower and climb into bed, confused if he should attempt to hold you or not. Your sleeping (Fine, sometimes you faked being asleep too) frame with your back turned to him. The blankets pulled tight around your body acting like a shield. 

Finally he just started sleeping on the couch. 

So yeah, the fall apart came quick. It was an avalanche neither of you could control nor did either of you want. There was still love between the two of you - But again it’s the right person, wrong time. 

You avoided each other for the following weeks. Carmen threw himself even more into work and you took a week of PTO to go visit one of your friends. He wondered if you were safe, you wondered why none of the people in the bar tasted the way he did. Your friend encouraged you with every sloppy make out conquest but it always ended there. You wanted to get Carmen out of your mind but weren’t ready for him to not be the last person who fully touched you. 

It didn’t work but does it ever?

Carmen watched your Insta far more than he should have. Risking way too many glances down at his phone during his free time to see if there were any updates about how you were doing. As if you’d post photos with long captions that mimicked a therapy session but he didn’t know where else to go. Sydney would report back what your story shows no matter how much Carm insisted he didn’t care. 

Because he didn’t, okay? He was fine. He knew it was for the best. Right? 

And then you posted a photo of yourself in a low cut top laughing in a bookstore. He zoomed in to see what titles you had in your arms as if they were clues and his eyes definitely didn’t linger on the swell of your cleavage. He didn’t think about how many nights he took for granted watching as your back arched up under him and you begged for more. He didn’t think about the way you’d crawl into bed at night and his mind would instantly rid itself of anything but you. He didn’t jack off to memories of you in the shower every morning because thinking about someone else, watching porn of other people, it didn’t feel wrong. No, that wasn’t the case at all. 

You, on the other hand, turned on Google alerts for anything relating to The Bear or Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto. Most of it was just good Yelp! ratings or fluff pieces from the local papers. He wasn’t one for posting on social media, in fact you weren’t sure he used it at all but you still posted like he was, but sometimes you’d find yourself scrolling through Sydney’s feed to see if she was giving you any crumbs. Sometimes, if you were really desperate, you’d find yourself in Richie’s feed even. It was pathetic but you can’t help it. 

One late night you came across an Instagram story post Sydney had up. Carmen leaning against a pinball machine at some gaming bar downtown. His hair was pushed back, eyes crinkled up with laughter. He looked at ease, peaceful. You wondered if anyone there felt the same… Was someone whispering to their friends and trying to build the encouragement up to go talk to him? Would he respond? 

Right, it wasn’t your place to care anymore. Yet you still cried yourself to sleep and yearned for when things felt so much easier. 

Yeah, the breakup wasn’t exactly going well. 

A few weeks ago you came across Carmen at the grocery store of all places. Both of you had gotten so used to doing the shopping Tuesday mornings and, logically, you were both comfortable going to the location just like you had been weekly for months. Your breath caught in your throat and God he looked better than you remembered. The first thing out of his mouth was, “Great sale on gouda this week.” And the only thing your brain could conjure up was, “Well that’s gouda.”

You both stayed silent for a moment before bursting out in laughter. 

Laughter turned to getting lunch around the corner. 

Lunch turned into you straddling Carmen’s waist in the car while parked in the very back corner of the parking lot and riding him until your eyes watered and you couldn’t focus long enough to keep a rhythm. He wrapped his arms, such strong arms, around your waist and fucked up into you for all that he was worth. Trying to prove himself in whatever capacity you allowed. 

If he couldn’t love you like he wanted, he could at least fuck you better than anyone else would.

Once you two broke the seal of seeing each other it was hard to stop. There was almost a forbidden aspect to your relationship now that caused a small thrill to run down your spine every time you saw him late at night. You were pretty sure no one knew you started… Seeing each other again and you were both content keeping it a secret. 

So that’s how you ended up here. Standing across from him at 11 o’clock at night on a random Wednesday. You try not to wonder if he left ‘early’ the second you reached out, instead convincing yourself that it just so happened to work out he was ready to go within minutes of you sending your ‘My place tonight?’ text during this horrific blind date your co-worker set up. 

Jonathan, 6’1, finance major turned CPA for his family’s company. He was… Fine. Just fine. You left on good terms in case you wanted to call on him for back up one lonely night. The problem was no one else was Carmen no matter how hard you tried to look for him in the people that passed by.

And there he stood across from you with hair falling into his face and his eyes looking up at you like you’re crafted from Heaven. A skirt, thin tinted tights, a shirt that exposed just enough skin but not too much. The soft shimmer across your eyelids and glossy lips from the lip balm you’ve been continuously applying since you knew he was on the way. The last time he saw you like this was when you were fighting because Carmen accidentally showed up 15 minutes past when you were supposed to leave for a birthday party at your friend’s house and that night ended with you locking him out of the bedroom while he had to pretend he couldn’t hear you crying in the next room. He really didn’t mean to be late. Sometimes the nights just got taken away from him. 

Carmen hated that you were dressed up for someone else but he pretends you just threw this on for him.

Your arms cross your chest, totally not attempting to push up your breasts, and you let out a sigh while you stare at Carmen. “This has to be the last time.” His face is stoic, a perfect poker face. The last time? Break up or not he couldn’t imagine there being a last time he saw you. Half the time he forgets, still referring to you as his partner while brushing it off and refusing to correct himself. Then there’s times where he comes home to his empty apartment and realizes you weren’t there to light the long forgotten candles on the coffee table or open up the windows to air the place out. 

He closes the space between the two of you and stares at your face. Searching for answers he’s too scared to ask for. Your resolve is breaking, cracking under the weight of having him so close. Beautiful eyes staring at you, the way he smells like the cologne you bought for your last anniversary and clean laundry. If you weren’t so drunk on the sight of him you would have put it together that Carmen kept clean clothes at the Bear to make sure he could change before he came to see you. 

You’re both silent for a moment before there’s two hands wrapping around either side of your neck and Carmen’s dragging you two together for a kiss. God, he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else kissing you. Would they even do it right? Do they know the way you moan when he licks into your mouth or the way you always grab ahold of his wrists when he cups your face? Do they know the way you forget to breathe sometimes when you’re lost in it? He’d have to pull back in order to give you a second to gasp in a rush of air. Does whoever you were with tonight know any of that? 

You pull away from Carmen with a broken out moan, silva connecting your mouths and the faint taste of cigarettes on your tongue from him. Clamping your hands on his shoulders you just faintly push the two of you apart, trying desperately to collect your thoughts. Carmen crying during the break up, sobbing in your bed, living on autopilot for weeks, the way he kisses you like he’s scared it’s the last time anymore because it very well just might be. Everything coming back to you in flashes as he stands before you once again. 

“I called you here for a reason, Carm.” His eyebrow is cocked, eyes flickering down to the bulge in his jeans that started growing the second he kissed you. “Uh - Yeah? Isn’t that what… I thought that’s what we were doing?” Carmen’s leaning in again, letting his lips connect to your neck. Warm kisses being pressed in a path up to just below your ear. “No uh, oh, remember how you let me keep the cast iron?” He hums in response, teeth nipping at your earlobe while broad hands start grabbing at your waist. “Yeah, uh huh, the cast iron skillet.” Fuck the stupid cast iron. He’s much more concerned with hooking fingers in the waistband of your skirt, attempting to pull it down while you’re fighting to stay focused. 

“Well my friends came over the other night and oh Jesus.” He’s licking a strip up your neck now, only half focused on your story. “Carm, please, they were helping me clean up and someone left it soaking in hot water overnight.” That’s finally got him freezing in place, his aroused little sounds quickly turning into a groan of annoyance. “Fuck. That ruined-… I mean, the seasoning has to be ruined. Assuming it rusted?” You nod helpless, fingers dragging along his chest while Carmen stares over your shoulder.

His eye twitches involuntarily. 

There’s a deep sigh coming from his body as he steps around you, finally kicking off his long forgotten second shoe before walking further into the apartment to head towards the kitchen. 

And listen, it wasn’t that you were necessarily concerned so much with the pan. Sure the two of you had purchased it together during the first few weeks of talking. Carmen cooked breakfast with it every Tuesday morning and showed you how to care for this damn pan. It was the closest you two came to owning a pet just… In the form of a nine inch cast iron skillet. You were more curious if he would care. A simple way of testing the waters to see if he just cared about getting laid or still cared about you. The answer should have been obvious but you still had to know.

You follow behind him and wince at the stream of expletives that easily fall from his tongue at the sight of the pan in the sink. It wasn’t horrible but wasn’t ideal. “Y’know, crazy thing is I’m pretty sure I can guess who did this. They kept trying to convince me cast iron wasn’t any different from a standard pan no matter how many times I tried convincing them that just wasn’t the case.” He’s grumbling to himself while crouching down to fish out supplies from under the sink, easily navigating your apartment from memory. The two of you had bounced between your places and talked about moving in together once his lease was up. Going as far as touring a few locations but the conversation was long forgotten once the tensions started building. 

As much as Carmen claims he didn’t see it coming, he resigned his lease almost two weeks before the break up officially happened. 

You hop up onto the counter next to the sink and watch as Carmen gets to work restoring your pan. “Think it's gonna make it through? I can't believe this is how it might end for the poor thing. All because I wanted to make your chicken piccata.” A few of his recipes had stuck with you and sometimes you find yourself making them when you’re missing him extra at night. 

“Nah, it’ll be fine. Just some surface damage s’all.” You watch as the muscles in Carmen’s arm move with the scrubbing motion, your lips itching to kiss over every exposed tattoo. Snap out of it! This is just sex between two consenting adults trying to let off some steam. That’s all. You’re both just comfortable and it would take way too much effort for someone random like Jonathan to learn what you like. 

Carmen catches you staring at him, not that you were being subtle about it, and feels heat blooming in his chest. He grabs one of your kitchen towels and gives the skillet a good pat down before sitting it upside down to dry off. It’s not perfect, not yet at least, but he’s pretty sure he’ll explode if it takes any longer to finally get his hands on you. 

“You look pretty tonight.” He’s coming to stand between your knees, reaching up to you with the hem of your skirt as you hum out a small “Thank you.” It seems like every time you see him lately you forget just how blue his eyes are. So easy to get lost in them especially from this close. Your hands come up to gently trace the features of his face. Just the ghost of a touch but Carmen’s soaking up the affection. He tilts his head in order to press a kiss to your palm. 

His hands are dragging up your thighs, feeling the material of your tights under his touch. “Know how much you hate wearing these.” Your heartbeat is picking up so much it’s making you jittery, hands wrapping around the edge of the countertop to grip it as hard as you can. Keeping yourself steady. “Help me take ‘em off?�� You arch your hips up off the counter as an invitation for Carmen. He’s wasting no time grabbing ahold of the waistband and dragging them down your body, groaning to himself as inch by inch your skin gets exposed to him. 

Neither of you miss the way you press your thighs together once they’re freed, hips twitching in anticipation. The tights are getting tossed across your apartment and left to be tomorrow’s problem. Carmen falls to his knees in front of you, letting them dig into the harsh tile of your kitchen while in pursuit of making his mark on you. He’s grabbing ahold of your ankles, bringing one of your legs over his shoulder while the other is brought up to his lips. 

Your eyes fall closed as Carmen starts trailing a string of delicate kisses along the length of your calf. His lips ghosting across your knee until he reaches the fleshy part of your thigh. While your hands finally escape the countertop and find their way laced into Carmen’s hair, he wraps his lips down against your thigh to start sucking a small bruise into your skin. “Carmy,” You hiss out, “What if I see Jonathan again? How am I gonna explain these?” But you’re not pulling his head away, instead doing quite the opposite by keeping his head in place. 

Carmen practically growls against your skin, a low and guttural sound coming from the man. His grip on you tights while he mumbles against you, “Fuck Jonathan.” You scrub your fingers against his scalp as Carmen finds another patch of skin on the opposite thigh to begin sucking a bruise into. His head ducking lower and lower under your skirt, the material finally getting you to pull your hands away from him.

Against all better judgment your thighs fall more open as he works his way down your thighs. There’s a series of small moans and whimpers coming out of you with no control as he reaches the top of your thigh, his nose dragging along the cloth covering your core. “D’you wear these for him? Or did you put them on knowing you’d end up texting me.” It’s impossible to answer when you feel his tongue drag along you, your hips rocking up towards his mouth. He’s bringing his hands up under your skirt now too and grabbing handfuls of where your thighs meet your hips to hold you down in place. 

“They’re purple, aren’t they?” A color Carmen had long ago decided he liked best on you. Something about the way the color compliments your skin… In all honesty, you were pretty sure he had purchased the exact pair you were wearing. You started the night with no intention of your date getting anywhere near your bed but instead being under the frame of the man who was exactly where you wanted him. 

He guides you to scoot you closer towards the edge of the counter, making sure you’re comfortable before mouthing over you once again. Hot, open mouth kisses being pressed almost exactly where you need them. One of his hands comes around your frame to grab a handful of the fleshy part of your ass while the other hooks a finger into your underwear, pulling the material to the side to expose you. 

There’s cool air being blown against your overheated body and your hands fly back to clutch at his back, his neck, the hair that’s exposed from under your skirt. Whatever inch of him you can find is being clung to like a lifeboat. He’s kissing the skin where your thigh meets your center, lips ghosting along the outer side of your folds. It only takes a few more pathetic whimpers before he finally takes pity on you and you feel his tongue go flat at the base of your hole, dragging up long and slow all the way to your clit. 

He groans into your core and the vibrations make you start to lose your mind. “Fuck. Fuck!” Carmen’s got your clit between his lips now, bobbing his head just slightly while he goes right to sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves. If you didn’t want to be teased then he’d give you everything you wanted. One of his hands comes up under his chin now, a finger pressing into your tight entrance as his tongue works to lap at your clit, your folds, even dipping into you whenever his finger pulls all the way out.

A second finger slides into you while his attention focuses back to making out with your clit. You can’t keep track of the way he alternates between kissing and licking at you while his fingers push in as deep as he can get them. “So good, Baby.” Baby. It comes out of you by force of habit and it makes him twitch in his boxes. If you weren’t so drunk on him you probably would have started overthinking but he’s making sure your focus is on nothing else but his mouth for now. Carmen’s chin is slick with everything you’re giving him as he eats you out as if he’s a dying man and this is his last source of solace in the world.

“C’mon Honey.” He’s cooing against you, fingers crooked just how he knows you like it. There’s sloppy licks being delivered to your clit as his fingers pump in and out. His hand finally leaves it’s grip on your ass to apply a gentle pressure to the top of your mound, pressing down against the flesh to add yet another sensation. “Can feel how tight you’re getting. You wanna come for me so bad, don’t you? Be good for me.” 

Your hands fist around Carmen’s hair, hips rocking up against him and it doesn’t take long for an orgasm to wash over your body. You seize up at the feeling, thighs clamping around Carmen’s head as he licks you through it. He’s only giving you a moment to recover when you feel his fingers slide out of your sensitive body and he can’t help but go back to licking out the mess you’ve made.

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me, Carmen.”

He’s smirking against you but taking the hint. Your thighs shaking as he pulls back from under your skirt, taking a moment to appreciate the handiwork that was the bruises covering your thighs while you take a moment to recover. The way your pussy looks so pretty covered in the mixture of your arousal and his spit. Carmen can’t help himself but to swirl his thumb around your clit, your hips jolting up as you reach out to grab ahold of his wrist. “Need a minute please.” 

Carmen nods and stands up, wasting no time making work of unbuckling his belt. You collect your thoughts well enough to start unbuttoning his jeans for him, letting your fingers linger on his jean clad hardened length. “You, uh -” You won’t meet his eye, opting instead to start pulling his pants down his toned thighs. “You still okay not using a condom?” A roundabout way of saying ‘I’m clean, are you?’. Carmen nods as if it’s the most insane question in the world. Even if he’s not with you anymore, it’s still only you for him for as long as he can see coming. “No one but you.”

You can’t meet his eye, a wave of guilt washing over you concerning your earlier date with Jonanthan that quickly gets pushed away when Carmy grabs ahold of your jaw and brings you in for a haphazard kiss. Mindless, heavenly kissing. The two of you getting lost in the way your tongues know just how to navigate one another while your hand slides into his boxes and begins lazily 

“Gotta fuck you or I’m gonna cum on your hand like a fuckin’ teenager.” You giggle into his mouth but slide yourself off the counter nonetheless. Giving him one more tender kiss before turning around to bend yourself over the counter. It’s not the most gracious process but you’re tugging your shirt over your head on the way down, pitching it somewhere else to deal with later. 

He’s looking at every inch of you. Underwear still pulled to the side, the way the lace of your bra looks against your back. Memorizing every detail he possibly can just in case you wise up and stop letting him come over to defile you like this at night. 

Carmen is dragging the head of his cock through your folds, tapping it against your clit while you whine and rut back against him. The weight of his jeans and belt resting heavy against his ankles and keeping him grounded enough to not spill his load before he even makes it inside of you. You weren’t used to taking him all the time anymore, a thought Carmen can’t dwell on, so he goes inch by inch and gives you time to adjust to the girth of him. He was thicker than anyone you’d been with before and every random hookup together lately reminds you of the first time you felt him stretch you out. 

It burns in the best way possible and he’s so tender while you get adjusted. Waiting until you start fucking yourself against his length to take that as his sign you were finally ready for him. Carmen still starts slow, a teasing pace of pulling himself nearly all the way out before sinking right back in. “Pussy’s like heaven.” It makes you oddly proud to hear him call that out. To know you still have an affect on him after all this time.

“Think about fuckin’ you all the time.” He’s picking up speed now, “Think about how good you feel stretched around me. Such a good slut for me, aren’t you? Bending over and practically begging for it.” His words, once again, make your head spin. It was a common theme with Carmen. Your fingers lace in your own hair, desperate to grab ahold of something. “Always wanting you to fuck me, Carm. Dream about how good you make me feel.” Like you two were meant to fit together perfectly. 

There’s a lewd clapping noise coming from the way your ass smacks against his frame with each deep thrust. Eventually your arms give out, torso falling flat against the shockingly still cool countertop while Carmen fucks into you for all he’s worth. A firm slap is being delivered to your ass that causes you to yelp out, rolling your hips back against him at the same time as an act of encouragement. 

His mind is taken up with how good you feel. You’re perfectly stretched around him and leaking out around his base. So wet, so beautiful, so perfect. There’s a hand sliding up your back until it’s fisting around your hair, gently tugging at it and the new sensation has these pornstar worthy moans escaping you. Your loud and needy brain is completely empty as Carmen destroys you the way he knows how. 

“D’you think about me fucking you while you were sitting across from some asshole all night? Poor little pussy almost got fucked by someone who doesn’t know how to treat it.” His words are so casually spoken with just the right amount of bite that it’s causing your brain to melt. Jonathan didn’t stand a chance of getting within two feet of your panties, just another mindless date in your series of attempted ways to ‘get over Carmen’ which clearly wasn’t going well. He bottoms out in you, every inch of his length pressed as firmly as he can into your core. It’s so much, so full and he’s got you pinned in place. Unable to do anything but be used by him, just how you both know you love to be. “Or did you go just to make me jealous? Put on your slutty little panties and went to dinner knowing you’d text me to come fuck you tonight.” 

He’s grinding his hips into you on the impossible quest to get even deeper. It’s possessive, claiming, and you’d probably even be a little annoyed by his behavior if you were in a better state of mind. For now you’re bent over the counter with bruises blooming all over your thighs and enjoying an odd jealous streak coming from someone who, technically, has no right to be jealous. It’s making you feel dizzy and your heart throb and your pussy clenching around him. “You gonna keep talking or you gonna fuck me, Carm? ‘Cause if not I’ll call him to finish the job.” 

You liked riling him up. 

Another sharp smack is being dealt to your ass when Carmen starts to pick the pace back up. His hands are tight on your hips and his pace is brutal. There’s grunts coming from behind you that are making your head spin and if you were more coherent you’d be a bit more embarrassed about the drool sliding from the corner of your mouth as your boyfrie-….. Well, as Carmen takes care of you. He’s admiring the bloom of his handprint on your skin, brushing his hand along it before pressing firmly down to help soothe the buzzing sting of pain. 

He wasn’t fucking you as often, didn’t have you nearly as well trained anymore. These bi-weekly meetings are not doing nearly enough for your body. He used to be able to fuck you right through an orgasm and you’d keep going. So used to him working your oversensitive clit to his liking. Now you whine while grabbing his wrist and whimper out pleas for him to give you a few minutes. He hates not knowing your body as well as he used to even if he still knows you pretty damn well.

So when he feels you getting closer, he’s taking note. Keeping his pace exactly the same and letting his hand crash down against the tender flesh of your ass again. “You gonna give me another? C’mon, Honey. Can feel how bad you need it.” And you do. God you need every orgasm you’re lucky enough to get from him. 

Your hips buck and twitch and you let out a series of uncontrolled moans as your orgasm starts to wash over your body. If Carmen wasn’t between your legs then your thighs would have snapped shut while your toes curled and your heart started beating faster. You could practically hear it beating in your own ears. “S’good, so good. Thank you, thank you. Shit, thank you.” A mess but you couldn’t judge yourself. 

Carmen’s pulling out when he’s close after just a few more strokes, frantically jerking off his length to keep the sensation going. You’re rolling your hips back and riding out the waves of your own orgasm, glancing back over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of Carmen with his head tossed back and brows knitted together in concentration. “Come on me, Baby. Wanna feel every drip on my skin. Maybe I’ll let you take a picture of it dripping down all the pretty bruises you gave me.” 

That’s all it takes for him to come undone. Warm spurts of cum landing along your back, your thighs, some of it dripping down your folds. The feeling is pulling wanton moans from your mouth that send Carmen into orbit. God, he doesn’t want to come back down to Earth. Collecting his breath and trying to keep himself upright while the aftershocks of his orgasm wrack through his body. How was he supposed to stay away from you when it felt like this? Especially when you just kept calling him baby.

He stopped cumming inside of you since the breakup. It made sense, kinda. But you hated it. Felt like a waste even though you wouldn’t overstep and ask for him to go back to finishing inside of you. He would, by the way. Without a second thought he’d bury himself in until he couldn’t go any further and fuck his cum into you as deep as possible. 

You feel a finger swiping up some of his cum off your backside and soon enough it’s pressed to your lips. Without a second thought you take the digit into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it while licking him clean. He wants some of it inside of you one way or another. A subtle way of still putting his claim on you.

The two of you take a moment to recover after Carmen pops his finger out of your mouth. His hands are running a circuit up and down the side of your thighs and torso, still enjoying the view of your body relaxed against the counter in front of him. The tile was starting to become painful as your stomach bent over it but you couldn’t bring yourself to move just yet. You didn’t fully trust your legs to support your weight without the counter for support. 

Carmen’s rustling around behind you now. Reaching down to pull up just his boxes but kick his jeans the rest of the way off finally. He’s not ready for the stimulation of such a heavy material against his sensitive skin yet. There’s a clattering from the sink area as he retrieves another towel to get wet for you and a cup to fill with water. Your eyes feel heavy. Mind’s at ease having Carmen around again, not that you’ll admit it, and your body feeling languid after being fucked so well. 

There’s a glass of water being sat in front of you. “Drink.” So you prop yourself up on your elbows and nurse small sips of the water while the cool rag gets to work wiping down your backside from the mess he made. His fingers ghost along the tender flesh of your ass where he was spanking, “Feeling alright?” You hum into the cup, giving him a small waggle of your behind to reassure any concerns he had. 

He gets you cleaned up in silence, letting the both of you enjoy the simple moment. Carmen always prided himself on taking care of you. There’s warm hands, still damp from cleaning you up, rubbing up the sides of your torso before wrapping around the tops of your shoulders. His hips rub along your backside and you just feel so warm, so safe like this. “We gotta get you to bed.”

You just sigh and scrub your hands over your face. A beat of silence passes while you collect your thoughts. “Carm, I don’t think I can stand up.” Your legs are still slightly shaking and your mind has yet to catch up with your body. 

Laughter’s coming from behind you as he delivers a playful swat to your ass. “C’mon I’ll get you there.” This feels so simple. You find yourself questioning why the two of you even broke up to begin with when the good moments were this good. Easy, content, safe. Would you ever be able to find this again? Would he? 

He’s grabbing ahold of your waist while pulling you back into his chest. Your head falls back against his shoulder and Carmen allows his lips to once again find your exposed neck. A series of gentle kisses being placed as his arms snake tighter around your body. “Still feeling okay?” You let out a content hum and allow yourself to be held by him. “Feel better than I have all week. Thank you, Carm.” You feel him smile against your skin as he places another delicate kiss. “Always.”

The two of you stay intertwined until Carmen starts to encourage the shuffle towards your bedroom. He makes sure you get cleaned up and ready for bed. Brings you one of your sleep shirts while you brush your teeth and tries to not overthink when you offer him a toothbrush of his own because you just so happened to have an extra. Gives you privacy when you complain about needing to pee and you find it odd there’s a tug at your chest when he ducked out of the room. Part of you hated being that couple who left the door open or used the restroom while the other showered, yadda yadda. It was a sign of comfort and the door being pulled shut behind Carmen was a sign that comfort was long gone. 

Not that you cared. Totally didn’t care at all. 

He’s going to just tuck you in at first until you’re clutching at his frame and pulling him into bed next to you. Carmen never could say no when it came to you, especially when he feels his back sinking into your soft bed and your warm body curling up along his side. He should go. Get home before it’s too late and try to get some sleep. He’s already planning on getting to work early to avoid having too much free time to think about tonight in detail. 

But his clothes feel so far away and the long day is starting to finally hit him. You can practically hear him thinking over his options and your breathing starts skipping as you feel him begin to pull away. 

“Carmen.” Your grip on his chest tightens and it pulls directly at his heart. Since this whole… Situation started he never stayed the night when your meetings would run this late. Always picking his clothes up out of piles on the floor and mumbling something about needing to get home to get stuff together from work. You never asked him to stay anyway. Neither of you knew if that would make an already weird and complicated situation even worse. 

But tonight was different. 

There were hints of a storm in the distance you start telling yourself. If you focused you could hear thunder, somewhere, out there and you just wanted Carmen safe for his sake. That’s all. So you pathetically cling to him and hope you don’t kick yourself out of embarrassment in the morning. It takes just a moment of him looking down at you to understand what you can’t say and he’s giving you a little nod in response. His arms wrap around your shoulders, leaning in to press a kiss to the top of your head. Kissing every inch of you had to be one of his greatest pleasures in life.

“Remind me to season that skillet in the morning.” 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Carmen, shockingly, sleeps through the night. The warmth of your body next to him coupled with your excellent sleeping experience. A comfortable bed with good pillows, a white noise machine in the corner of your room (the ice maker in the fridge at Carmy’s would constantly go off so you got used to sleeping with background noise to cover it up), it was the best night of rest he’s had in months.

Your sheets smell like home. 

He’s slowly waking up now and his first thought is how much he misses the weight of your breast in his hand. Second thought is how much he needs to pee but damn your bed is comfortable. 

Carmen allows his body to wake up slowly. Stretching his arms out above his head and letting out a satisfied grunt at the feeling of his well rested muscles. Blinking his eyes awake just enough to take in the sight of all the trinkets and items that covered your space. There’s some things he notices that he knows for a fact he purchased you. Bottles of perfume, books you keep telling yourself you need to read, cups you constantly forget to bring back into the kitchen until you’re fully out of them.

Did you keep any of the pictures? Photo strips from Navy Pier and the holiday market at Wrigley Field. Everything from the disposable camera you brought along on road trips and vacations. The polaroids that once littered a cork board in your living room that the two of you added pictures to so often. If he looked around enough would he find them tucked away safely in a box or did you pitch them when you knew the two of you were through. 

Carmen still has one. You took most of them while you packed up your things from his place and refused to let him carry any of the boxes downstairs. So stubborn, so full of hurt pride. He just spent most of the day trying to stand out of your way but always available in case you finally admitted that you needed help. Maybe a small part of him hoped that as you packed up so many memories it would trigger a ‘What are we doing?’ reaction and you’d go running into his arms. 

You never did. 

But you did take one trip down to your car with an overstuffed Ikea bag over your shoulder and balancing a box on your hip. Carmen knew he didn’t have long, and it kind of felt like stealing, but he rushed over to the box you just started packing up and rifles through the photos as fast as he possibly could. It took a moment of digging before there it was. A polaroid photo someone took of the two of you on New Year’s Eve. You’re wearing some cheesy headband and he has those tacky sunglasses on that show off the incoming year on them. His arms are wrapped low around your waist as he stands behind you, one of your hands resting on top of his while the other is reaching up and back to cup his jaw. You’re both grinning and laughing in the photos and nothing bad has happened yet. 

He hears you shuffling back up the stairs so he’s quickly throwing the box back together after sliding the photo into his pocket and rushing back to stand in the kitchen. Acting like nothing was happening. You didn’t even look over at him so it wasn’t like he had to put up much of a show anway.

It’s still safely tucked into his wallet. 

The sound of the front door opening and hushed whispers are finally pulling him from his half asleep, reflective state. It looks like this day is getting started if he wants it to or not. He’s tilting his head to press it into the pillow underneath him, allowing one last deep inhale to remind himself exactly what your scent smells like before forcing his body to be pushed out of your bed.

Carmen turns the corner in just his boxer briefs and you’re not convinced you aren’t still dreaming because fuck he looks good. His hair’s a mess from the combination of you playing with it all night and him sleeping so well. One of his hands is scratching low on his hips while he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen. 

Maybe he shouldn’t be so comfortable walking around your apartment half dressed still but God is this relationship situation getting messier since the day since the two of you reconnected.

“Ordered some breakfast from Yolk. Figured you were hungry and I’m sure you have to run off this morning but I uh-…. I just wanted to make sure you were fed.” You nod to yourself. Giving him an out as you start popping open food boxes. There was just over an hour until you had to get to work too so there were multiple excuses possible for this morning to end as early as it needed to. 

In an odd, roundabout, time to head back to therapy kind of way it almost feels like you’re dating your ex. 

“Yeah.” He nods to himself and desperately wishes he had deodorant, cologne, fuck even Axe body spray. Something to make himself smell better or feel more presentable for you. “Richie actually tried installing fuckin’ bidets to the toilets last night. Kept on running his mouth about how prestigious they are and he, obviously, doesn’t know how to install bidets. So the bathrooms are a little-“ He waves his hands through the air.

“Shitty?” 

Second questionable pun you’ve made lately. Pull it together. 

There’s a breathy little laugh coming out, “Yeah, shitty.” Carmen’s peeking over your shoulder as you plate up breakfast, sneaking a piece of bacon from under your arm before pressing a kiss to the top of your ear. “Thank you for ordering this.” 

You nod and try to pretend you didn’t stop breathing having him so close to you under the soft morning light. 

He leaves $60 tucked under a vase on your dining table to cover breakfast. 

————

11:52 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Richie put his foot down and we’re stuck getting the bidets 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: If you’re wondering how my day is going 

12:17 pm

Shockingly my day is much less toilet related. I hope it’s going well. 

4:39 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: I know so much about bathrooms now

————

You laugh a little too loud as the alert illuminates your phone. There’s a fond tugging at your heart as the ‘normal’ conversations fills your chat history instead of the short “My place tn” or “I still can’t find my jacket. You have to have it”. Maybe saving him as do not answer seemed too harsh but having his contact show up as a photo of you two cuddled up with the Chicago skyline in the background, an innocent and horrifically cheesy “Baby Boy 💙” contact name modeled after Richie saying you baby him too much one night. Every time it flashed across your screen and Richie saw he gave you guys an endless amount of shit. It became a constant bit that none of you got tired of at the time. 

You were trying to separate yourself from your past with him as much as possible at first but now those lines just keep getting more and more blurred. 

One of your coworkers grabs your attention away from your phone thus leaving Carmen’s message on read. He tries to pretend it doesn’t bother him as he gets to work prepping for tonight’s service. Who wants to talk about bathrooms with their… Fuck buddy? Ex? God that’s still so weird to say. 

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊✮‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊

Your mind was haunted by thoughts of Carmen Berzatto all day. 

No matter how many busy tasks you assigned yourself he always seemed to creep back in. You’d look around for him when a joke landed well at work and the group you were with erupted into laughter. Could easily picture his head thrown back as he scrubs over his face in an attempt to muffle the sound. When you were standing alone your mind wandered off to the way he treated you last night. So claiming. Expertly working your body the way only he could after so much time of getting to know it. 

The bed feels so much 

You throw the blanket away from your frame and watch as it bundles up beside you. Is this crazy? It feels crazy. You shake out the nerves, fluffing up your shorts and primping yourself for the photo. It takes one, two, seven pictures to get just the right angle. An image of your thighs against the bedding and your oversized sleep shorts bunched up all the way down your legs. Taking a deep breath you steel your spine and pull up Carmen’s contact.

————

11:28 pm 

Headed to bed 

ONE IMAGE ATTACHED

11:29 pm 

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Fuck.

11:31 pm

Goodnight Carmen <3

2:12 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Can’t stop thinking about you 

ONE VIDEO ATTACHED

————

The sun is warm against your skin as it slowly wakes you up. There’s an air purifier rattling in the corner that acts half as white noise while you sleep, half to soak up the smells of Chicago. Sometimes when Carmen’s especially exhausted you have to bring out the big boy and ask your Google home to play sleep sounds to mask him snoring all night. You typically didn’t mind the sound, knowing it’s a sign of just how badly he needed a good night’s rest. 

You’re fishing your phone out of the comforter in a haste to click off the horrific sound of the alarm and your eyes are barely open when you see the alert. A preview image popping up and you can just barely a blurry image of - “Holy fuck!” 

Your free hand flies up to clamp over your mouth as a mix of gasps and ‘no fucking way’ come out of you with zero control. With shaking hands you open up the video, half tempted to pinch yourself with a video of Carmen fills your screen. His hand rubbing over the bulge in his boxers and there’s a mess of shaky breathing coming from behind the phone. You can’t get the volume turned all the way up fast enough and you’re terrified to miss a single sound. 

And there he is. 

Fishing his cock out of his boxers and stroking himself for you. Illuminated by the lamp on his bedside table and his hand over lubricated to mimic how wet you get for him. He’s a mess of filthy moans, bucking hips, are you dreaming? 

The combination of the sun beating in and the way this video is making your body go hot is too much. You’re overheating, kicking the blankets away from you while your hand goes into your shorts on instinct. Toying with your clit even though you don’t have much time to spare as you watch Carmen get off for you.

————

8:04 am

HEART REACTED TO A VIDEO

Mine tonight?

Fuck you sound so good

Wish I would have been there to clean you up

Say my name more next time please

How am I supposed to go to work now 

————

No response. You aren’t surprised, he’s typically busy in the morning. 

So you go along your day and let yourself enjoy the thought of Carmen coming back over tonight to take care of you. You had thought letting him back in was a risky move but things seemed fine so far. Settling into the new version of what normal was going to look like. Maybe things would end up being some version of alright after all. 

A chirp from your phone catches your attention and you’re instantly uninvested in whatever task was at hand. It might be a little pathetic how excited you were but that is besides the point. 

————

10:32 am 

[CARMEN]: Busy tonight

————

Busy tonight? Go fuck yourself Carmen! 

You waited all morning and THAT’S the response you get? Were the multiple texts too much? Did you come off too clingy? Sure he just stayed the night, was two times in one week where he drew the line? 

So you leave him on read and take away the heart from his video. Change his name back to DO NOT ANSWER and instantly feel the urge to get off tonight leaving your body. Replaced by a subtle anger that only he can bring out of you. 

The workday seems to go by so much quicker as you have this internal argument with yourself and mentally pick a battle with Carmen. Maybe you were silly to think things would… What? Go back to the way they were? No, of course not. 

Ugh!

Carmen who, by the way, truly was slammed. Got stuck hosting an event for an old family friend that he barely knew but was convinced it’d be good for business. He’s overwhelmed by work and anxious with his relationship with you. The breakup was horrific. One of the worst things he’s had to experience so far which certainly says a lot. At the very least - It made sense. This though? Sleeping together, fucking when you have shitty dates and he’s your second choice for the night, taking pictures of dumb things he sees during the day because it made him think of you but never actually sending them, it made zero sense.

If only there was something the two of you could do to figure this whole mess out. 

But alas.

You bring home a salad that’s far healthier than anything you’ve eaten all week accompanied by some fresh pressed green juice nonsense you lie to yourself and mentally say is delicious. The boy detox starts now. 

The shower you take that night must last an hour. Every inch of your body gets scrubbed, your face and hair both get a mixture of treatments and masks. You primp and polish yourself up and convince yourself that this is all for you and not so you look better than ever and Carmen will have to regret his stupid and shitty ‘Busy tonight’ text because you were also just like so, so busy and -

Fuck Carmen Berzatto. 

You decide you could go the rest of your life without hearing from him and be just fine. It was his loss. You’re funny, beautiful, and excellent in the bedroom. There’s thousands of people out there dreaming about finding someone like you!

This internal argument keeps going. And you know what’s annoying? The second you fling yourself into bed you realize he left his scent all over your sheets still. It hasn’t gone away - Cologne mixed with Carmen. And you 100% aren’t hunting out the scent nor are you hunting out a reason to stay annoyed with him. Not at all. So you get back out of bed and grab the fabric freshener to spray your sheets back down with, giving it a minute to dry before falling face first into the mattress with an annoyed huff. 

So yeah, fuck him. You hope you never hear from him again and toss your phone on the other side of the bed. Forcing your eyes shut and making your mind go blank because otherwise you’ll stew all night thus continuing this Carmen induced spiral. 

————

1:47 am

[DO NOT ANSWER]: Hey

————

Fuck.

[cherie-doll]

Please please pleaseeee can we get the reversed version of them waiting for us, with us waiting for them to return but they don’t and reader has to do a lot of research to find out that they have been KIA bc it was a secret operation so we aren’t supposed to know…

*cries*

do you prefer to ruin your day like this?

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: You Waited For Them

ઇଓ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Rudy, Phillip Graves, Makarov, Keegan, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

Shortly before he left, you expressed that you didn't want him to go, must he leave when life was so good for him? You were so happy together, he ought to be a little selfish every once in a while, but he had only smiled warmly at you and embraced you, pressing a kiss to your temple with the promise of returning before he departed

Now, you sat staring at your phone screen rereading the last message he had sent, it was hardly a properly written one, unusual for him but that meant he was occupied, too busy worrying for the survival of his men, maybe you had become too clingy, turning your phone off you rolled on your back to face the ceiling to contemplate in the dark hours of the night

Every morning that the sun came up and you turned in bed to his side, finding it empty instead of being held in his arms, you missed him terribly and there had been no update from him, maybe it was your own restlessness but it seemed strange

Those who remained of the task force came one grim morning to deliver the news, even in his last moment he had used it to protect someone else, they tried to assure you that everything would be okay, that he had left you in their hands

But you desperately wanted information on what else happened, you clung to them, begging for more on what happened, your husband had dedicated many years to serving, surely this wasn't all that you were getting in return, they couldn't replicate what he had given you

You were left feeling like the world could give out underneath you at any given moment now that he was no longer there

Ghost

Silence from Simon wasn't uncommon, you didn't find it strange if he didn't reply for that usually meant he was to be home soon, but it had been long, too long for this silence to have extended this long, you didn't receive a timeframe from him either, he never said when you could expect for him to come back

You had learned to miss his silence, it was a different kind of stillness with him, it was time spent with good company, his presence wasn't subtle once he had been introduced in your life, and you would hardly allow him to leave so easily

There was a hollowness in it all, too deeply etched to be able to forget about that phantom that had followed you home one day and made it his too, he had been expected to be a part of it forever

Time decided to make her decision and there was no turning back, this was the sentence, but for what? Had he not suffered enough before? His early tragedy surely would have ensured him a better future

But it hadn't been the case for neither him nor unfortunately, you

He had always been secretive so it came to no surprise when they withheld information from you that allegedly, not even they knew about

Soap

You were dizzy, thinking no bullet would ever come close to touching your Johnny, your head was spinning, unable to comprehend how it could happen, you only found out due to acting "crazy", how else were they to give you information?

His superiors could at least have had the decency of telling you if he had been KIA, but it seems even those he had considered his friends couldn't disclose a single word about it, and these were the people you had invited into your house, who had shared a table with him

And yet no one came forward, no one wanted to take responsibility or the "burden" of telling his s/o that the most important person of their life had been killed and was now lying in a puddle of his cold blood in the middle of Lord knows where without anyone to reclaim his body for a proper burial

The stress was getting to you; you felt it infiltrate like a toxic substance in your body, the splitting headaches, the tears that just kept spilling you were sure you would cry blood, the dread of never being able to touch or see him in the flesh again and having to go on without him

Could you even be able to go through the remainder of your life without him?

Gaz

He was the pillar that supported not only you but a whole ton of other people, he was a comfort and a close friend to those around him, and in an instant he had left this world, it was so unfair how someone so loved could have gone out so fast, like the flickering flame of a candle

You used to receive messages with words so sweet you'd treasure them and guard them with your heart, a place he had carved and earned within you, now you only had these meager memories that only brought pain when resurfacing, it prompted you to loose your amity, instead locking it away for the only one who deserved it

The world had been a hostile place to not only you but Kyle himself, it was only right to repay that injustice with the same demeanor it had treated you

You had given up on trying to find new information on his death, it had felt like futile effort banging on doors begging for an ounce of kindness or sympathy to be shown only to be turned away with a scowl or indifference

The love you felt would be lost in time leaving only pain in its stead

Roach

You dearly missed him, all the quirks of his would come to you during slow moments of the day, maybe when you were waiting in traffic, washing dishes and the afternoon sunlight shone a certain way, when lounging on the couch and smiling like a fool in love when you thought of him

You asked the universe why, why he had been taken from you, you needed him most than anyone else, you were each other's support in life, it'd be hard to ignore the emptiness now residing permanently within you

He had gone on that last mission so excited knowing he'd come back to you, you were so proud of how far he had come, you had given him that special feeling knowing you were waiting for him, the image of seeing you soon engraved in his mind, the look in your eyes upon receiving him

You too, had felt the confidence growing within him, and imagining how fast his heart must have been beating as he charged despite all fears swarming his head, that little organ that gave him the strength to push forward for you, it made you break down, sobbing on the kitchen floor clutching your chest

It shouldn't have been a surprise, he was used and discarded like a weapon, treated like a nobody, but that body had a life, a wild and young heart, a fleeting hope of a bright future, and a name tied to meaning

You had to an extent some trust in the others to tell you what happened, but not only had they failed him in the past, but continued to do so, they never looked out for him, nor did they provide you closure, and Roach had never harbored resentment, would it be wrong if you did?

Alejandro

The memory of his, once so alive and intense had dimmed, gone out like a fire, the raging fire that had been flaming your heart was put out, the source of warmth leaving you in a cold sweat and left in a pile of ashes

Not even a goodbye could have been said, it was as unexpected as it was unfair, you remember trying to deliver a message, one where you had hoped for his safe return, only for it to remain unread, he didn't even get a last comfort

Your hand would miss his, the interlocking of fingers, but his hand was ripped from yours, and such a strong hold did you have on one another, it was a harsh reality to accept that no one else felt it as deeply as you did, you took the hardest hit to the chest with your broken illusions of stupid hope, seriously, it was childish almost how you believed he could still be alive somehow

You were left unsatisfied, not at peace with the little information you had to pry out of their hands, you fought so hard for it and it left you feeling worse than ever, would it have been better to have listened from the start and be left with the burning curiosity of what happened to him?

Although, sooner or later you would have had to move on with hesitance, at least there had been foolish hope that he was well, the sweet memories turned bitter and you yearned for a past that was long gone and a future that could've been yours but was now so far out of reach

Rudy

In a world where you had combed through to find your loved one, it was of course impossible to let him go so easily, you thought of how you must have looked like in front of those officers; wild and distraught, nothing to calm you down, like an animal in frenzy who could only sense danger

But it was pure emotion guiding you, nothing else could have taken over the priority of finding out the truth behind all the fabricated and careless lies they had thrown at you in hopes of you being somewhat tempered with, they were fools to think so

Well, if they had been promised eternity with the very person who had made them feel like fate brought them together in the boundless sea of time, wouldn't they too, do everything and anything in their power to find out as much as possible about their s/o's death?

But of course, it was nothing but formalities around here, no regard for the wellbeing of others, Rodolfo had promised you the world and he had given you the best there was of him, and you had lost it all when you let him out of your sight

There was no other way to go about this, a tragedy to entertain those in the position to help but had denied it to you

Phillip Graves

He went to work with the promise of coming back like always, you went through the same routine as always; you and him spending the last night together tangled in the other's warmth, then waking up the next morning without so much as a word until it was time to depart, with such tenderness in his eyes, a soft blue in the grand expanse of grey reserved for you as he caressed your cheek with his thumb and left a kiss on your forehead

The bastard had a knack for surviving the impossible, and you desperately prayed he was simply lying low and would come back, you repeated those words to yourself over and over again, trying to find his Shadows and ask about him, those who you had once remained close to were suddenly gone and distant, it seemed no one could provide useful information nor a clue to even where your husband was, if he was even alive or what his last known status report was

You viewed those who had worked close to him with a cold gaze, as if it had been betrayal, he had always treated those on his good side with nothing but patience and hospitality, and now it was as if their backs were turned to look away and not be witness of the hurt they were causing by pouring more salt into the wound

No one was better than a dog looking out for its own tail, turning away from the outstretched hand

Makarov

It had been like a dream encased, the glass box much too beautiful to dare be shattered, but it had been a fragile one too, with so many enemies of his around it was only a matter of time before someone dug a gun into the back of his head and finished him off

You had grown to love that man who had begun to crack at his hard and cunning surface to reveal his softness to you, he had always been firm on staying in the field and it always had scared you half to death anytime he left for extended periods of time, but it was just in his nature

You hadn't found it strange when he didn't call or contact you, you had grown used to it, but he wouldn't so cold as to leave you completely in the dark like he used to in the beginning stages of your relationship... you had drilled it in him to leave you some sort of sign but there was nothing

He had connections, and through many sleepless nights had seriously considered contacting them, of course, all this came with a price, but what else had you to lose? All you needed was a lead, a loose thread to follow until you reached the end of it, even if it meant loosing yourself in the process of it

Keegan

That son of a gun couldn't have left without saying something, right? Keegan always found a way to communicate even if his silences were prolonged, an unexpected letter in the mail, a messenger sent or even a text message confirming he was to come back soon, but there was nothing left behind

Of course, he had his peculiar ways but he always sent back some sort of sign that he was at least alive, something deep and unsettling set in your heart one evening and you hadn't known peace since then, you were pacing around in the rooms of your shared house letting your mind dwell in possibilities of what could have happened to him

He hadn't many people he could call his friends but, surely there was a couple who he could be bothered to turn to for company, you tackled those people first, bombarding them with question after question, and their answers lead you no where, you were half-crazed in your search for the truth while also holding back tears

You replayed scenes in your mind of times when he asked you to be strong, it's what he taught you, in the face of fear you'd hold still, and it was your promise to him to not let yourself break nor give up without getting what you wanted

König

Your mind was just static

Gone were your days of bliss and tranquility, your one person worth living for was gone, vanished from the face of this earth, and it felt like you were losing yourself in the numbness of feelings, it felt like a wound that was left untreated and the pain was only a tingling sensation you had grown used to

You kept drifting in and out of sleep, not knowing if this was all a nightmare or gruesome reality, your calls remained unanswered and it seemed to be adding to your agony, you felt sore all over but never exactly felt "the hit", the screaming in pain nor misery taking over you

You felt little energy, barely able to pick up a phone much less play detective in finding out how it happened, you had accepted what you had been told and that was the end of it, you knew it would be better to leave it covered, to drape a white sheet over it and slip into the dark hole you'd find some sort of strange comfort in

Time seemed to flow in a strange manner, on most days you were lost in a daydream, remembering his gentleness and the lingering silence of the aftermath

Horangi

Not even his ego could have gotten him home from this one, he had that streak of luck saving him from near death experiences, sure he had gone through some dark times in life but he had straightened himself out, especially having you by his side, that person he was making an effort for to keep himself in line

He had been strong, fierce and overall left a lasting impression on anyone who let him get close enough to witness his wit and demeanor, it had left a mark on you, that'd forever itch and bother your mind on finding him

Day and night you lost sleep and didn't rest until you had to be told the harsh truth, even thought it had hit you like a storm, it still didn't wash away all the rage you had felt up until that moment, instead it seemed to ignite the last match needed for you to blow up and lose what was left of your composure

Nothing could have filled that void he left, he took all the sentiment when he parted from your side, you craved that feeling again, like hunger you were restless and it tired you out to the point you could only curl up, hugging your knees close to your chest longing for his affection

Nikto

He had just learned how to love, who could be so cruel to take that away from you, he had left you waiting with your arms open, waiting for the warmth of a body that long went cold

Your fingertips had fondled the future you yearned for, it had been so close, almost within your grasp and now it had vanished into thin air, not even a remnant of the possibility left hanging

There weren't many people you could go to for help, you felt hopeless and lost in this sea of misery and despair, but you tried and barely scraped the surface with your fingernails, despite not knowing what you were getting into nor how you would get the information you dove headfirst, your search proved to be of little use

They had discarded the information, tossed the matter aside that it left you wondering if you were even doing this right, surely there must be a stone left unturned somewhere, someone out there harboring the information and keeping it for the time being until you found them

All the while you felt yourself losing your resolve, your strength dwindling, how long until you gave out? There were times when you wanted nothing more than to fall into bed and never wake up in this world where Nikto wasn't there to chuckle and caress your face with his hand

[niningtori]

clementine | preview

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after your explosive breakup and wordless, thorough disappearance from beomgyu's life, he's surprised to see that you've moved back to his town. when he happens to meet you again, beomgyu wants to apologize, maybe make amends for his unforgivable behavior, but he's devastated to find out that you've erased every memory of him. you don't want to remember him—or the love you once held onto so desperately—anymore. he knows that to be the case, so why is it so hard for him to feel the same way?

genre: angst, romance, potentially second chance, asshole!beomgyu to groveling! beomgyu (who saw this one coming...), inspired by eternal sunshine of the spotless mind tho i've never seen it and only know major plot points through cultural osmosis

warnings: angst, previous toxic relationship

word count: tbd

release date: really far in the future probably

notes: i received a request for this a while ago and i said i'd think about it then received an ask a couple of weeks ago saying another author was working on something based on the same movie. again, i've never seen the movie and i haven't read the author's work (or any new fanfiction rlly in the past few months cuz i haven't been in the headspace to enjoy it) so i will be making it up based off of the general concept of having memories of an ex erased. i said i'd wait to post it and i have every intention of doing so but i wrote this in a moment of inspiration and i've been posting previews so i thought i'd post this just as a teaser! it won't be out for a long time cuz i have so many wips and i don't want to be inconsiderate or invite weird, unsolicited comparisons. i just want to post previews bc i'm excited to get back into consistently writing after almost quitting 🥹

-

it’s jarring, to say the least, to see an estranged ex you used to love more than anything else in any unexpected context; but it's especially jarring for beomgyu as he watches you chatter away on your phone in the middle of the cafe he finds himself in. he catches your eye for just a second before you look away, and it's like he can't breathe. after your phone call, you smile as you type away on your screen. beomgyu gulps, because he knows that since you two made eye contact, it would be weird to just leave and pretend he didn't see you, though that's exactly what he wants to do. besides, no matter how much of a coward he is, he can't keep living with his unspoken feelings when he finally has the opportunity to express them, no matter how resolutely you might reject them. he hesitantly rises from his seat and walks over to you with unsure steps.

“hey,” he says unsteadily. you look up from your screen and give a forced smile, a far cry from the easy affection you used to give him. only him.

“uh, hey?” you reply. beomgyu worries he did the wrong thing by approaching you, especially because you seem confused that he said anything at all. you probably expected him to exit the cafe without a word, and the thought that you thought that he, who was once completely and utterly in love with you, would brush you off so easily brings a sharp pang to his chest.

“i… i know it’s been a while, but i… i want to, um, apologize for… everything.” he wants to lay down and die at his awkwardness, but he's wanted to say these words for so long, and no matter how much he’s compelled to swallow them down and safely tuck them away in the home they've carved out for themselves in his stomach, he knows this is the right thing to do. especially since you blocked him on everything before changing your number. especially since you moved away without a word after your disastrous breakup. especially since he hasn't seen you in so long, and he doesn't know if he'll ever see you again after this. your eyebrows furrow, and he braces himself for impact. but no amount of contrived mental fortitude could ever prepare him for your next words.

“... do i know you from somewhere?”

notes pt. 2: might delete this preview so be prepared for that possibility 🫰 peace and blessings :,) but please don't be mean or weird like actually

[fenrysmoonbeamswife]

The one thing that keeps me thinking that maybe, just maybe, SJM does see the awfulness of the IC is that ACOTAR is first person and it's her only series that's first person. I always say that if it had been third person and multi POV like TOG that characters who are hated and loved the way it is now would have been received much differently by the readers

A huge part of POVs is about what and how much you want the reader to know and, maybe more importantly, what you don't want them to know

ACOTAR is the only SJM series in first person and that immediately limits what we know. We only get what Feyre sees and believes. Feyre is an incredibly limited character when it comes to what she understands and in her biases/assumptions, which isn't hate it can be said for any character or human being, but especially because of her lifestyle and the influences around her. Unfortunately this means that we only see major plots, sub plots and other characters motivations the way she sees them and not as they are. Feyre doesn't question something, the reader doesn't question it either. Feyre criticizes someone, the reader does too

And you would hope that people would have the ability to look at what they're being shown in the text itself and not just through Feyres lenses but we have seen that they don't. This tactic relies heavily on readers self inserting and/or relying only on what they're told and not what they're shown and unfortunately the fandom has proved that it works, much more easily than it should

Now I definitely think it's possible that SJM has self inserted so hard that she actually does believe that the IC is as amazing as she tries to convey but there are some things that are too pointed in the text that make me hold out hope. But unfortunately I think it's inevitable that while she might end up pointing out their hypocrisy and borderline evils, it will be a case of "redemption" rather than the Archerons escaping

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1211

Chapter 32:

The Road was silent and empty, the tension between the three of you thick.

After Billy confessed that he was looking to find his brother at the end of the road, you had all remained quiet and simply kept walking.

No one brought up what Evanora said about Agatha and You, what happened to Alice or what they witnessed at the last trial.

You walked at Billy's right side and Agatha at his left; leaving him trapped between the two of you.

He said nothing more for a while, but it was because he was trying to use his powers. Well, not his magic based on but the other set he had inherited; most likely from Wanda.

Billy had the ability to read minds, at least with some partial control. Either he had to be very close emotionally with someone to easily access their thoughts and establish a connection, or try really hard.

And that's what he did, trying to focus first on Agatha and then on you. Yet the more he tried, the more blocks he found; as if his ability could not bypass your minds and find your thoughts.

With you, he was not fully surprised but with Agatha... she was magicless. He should have been able to get something out of her, but all of his attempts have been futile.

What he didn't know was the fact that both of you could sense him, and you also took notice of his little frown; a big clue that he was mentally struggling with something.

In this case, the mental barriers you both had established to keep noisy telepaths out of your heads.

"You'll get a nosebleed trying that hard to read our minds." Agatha said, deciding to address the elephant in the room. "Especially hers," she motioned for you. "She is immune to noisy telepaths and mind readers."

Billy looked at you, surprised.

You shrugged your shoulders. "It's part of my magic. It neuters and blocks anything foreign." You explained. "It would take a very strong magic individual to be able to bypass it"

"Hmmm," he exclaimed and kept walking, clearly not wanting to continue this conversation or admit out loud that he was trying to snoop around with his abilities.

"You just can ask me your questions. Aloud." Agatha said, not liking this silence that silently existed between the three of you.

Plus, she was curious to find more about this Billy. What he had in mind or wished to know, what he thought and questioned. Now that there was no stupid sigil to stop him from exposing everything.

She just had to tread this carefully.

"Okay, then, where's Rio?" Billy asked, and you smirked on amusement, at both how smart the boy was and how quicky he cornered Agatha.

Agatha cleared her throat. "Not that question."

Billy looked at you, hoping you would offer some insight into this creepy green witch with questionable motives and loyalties.

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't say anything," you replied softly as you pushed a small branch to the side and allowed the others to walk first before you followed them.

"Is Wanda Maximoff really dead?" He asked next, and you turned your head to face Agatha, curious about that as well.

"Yes." She said with confidence but quickly changed her mind. "No. Maybe."

"Did you see a body?"

Agatha got a flash of the morgue body she saw while fighting to escape Wanda's spell and be free of this stupid Agnes persona that she was forced to have for three whole years.

"Yes, I did."

"Did anybody else?"

She thought for a moment. "It's hard to say." She confessed honestly and yet received a questionable look from the boy by her side. "Hey, you want straight answers, ask a straight lady."

You scoffed in amusement and had to place your hand in front of your mouth to hide your laughter that was threatening to come out.

Once you calmed down faintly, you saw the others looking at you. "Don't look at me like that. It was funny... and accurate," you bemused. "Plus, let's admit there is not really a straight person in this coven...or any coven I have met."

Agatha nodded. "Straight people and coven do not mix."

It was Billy's turn to scoff. "Oh, please. That's just a rumour. "

You and Agatha smirked, but it was your lover who chose to comment first.

"Is it now?" She questioned rhetorically. "Then, please, do your research and find me a coven that did not have questionable romantic preferences. I will wait. "

Billy opened his mouth to argue, but he came to realize he didn't truly know any covens in real life. The covens he studied and read about was not a lot of accurate information to trust.

Before he could think of something to save himself from yet another embarassment, he too notice of something up ahead.

Everyone came to a halt and observed your next trial, this time a haunting dark eyrie castle on top of a rock. Even the clouds and the background seemed to match its aesthetic.

"This is new," Agatha commented.

"I have a bad feeling bout this," you confessed and rubbed your hands faintly, feeling your hair stand on end in warning.

"We don't really have much of a choice," Billy reminded you.

Left with nothing else to say, you continued down the path; mentally preparing yourself for what is to come.

Billy and you had yet to face your trials, which both comforted and also worried you. On one hand, if the next trial was for any of you two, it meant you could be okay even if Jen and Liia join later.

But godess help if the trial is for Lilia or Rio, for it would not end well unless they would magically appear right on time, summoned by the road.

You were not sure if that was possible, for last time you, Agatha, and the coven had not gotten separated. Instead, you have stuck together even if some of your fellow witches perished on the way.

You came to a halt in front of the gothic huge wooden double door, two heavy metallic rings with intricate designs right in the middle; an old but familiar to you way of knocking on doors before door bells were invented.

"Guess we don't knock, right?" Billy asked, looking at you and Agatha.

"We didn't the last time," you reminded him. "Or any of the last times," you continued in a mumble.

"Then why do you do now?" Agatha questioned rhetorically and pushed the heavy doors or at least tried. "They look far lighter than they are," she grunted, trying not to make a joke out of herself because she knew Billy would never let it go.

Thankfully, Jen was not present, for she would have commented already and not in a nice way.

You looked at Billy and then chose to join her, doing your best to push against the heavy doors. Eventually, your combined efforts seemed to pay off, and you managed to make a big enough gap to pass through; darkness blocked your vision for a moment before things cleared.

And once you could see again, you came face to face with your next trial.

Chapter 33

[a-very-tired-jew]

So I've seen a few of my mutuals clutching their pearls over the UHC shooter being praised, others cheering him on, and some cheering him on reluctantly. While nobody asked for it, I'm going to give my input as a forensic specialist and consultant.

We have a multi tiered judicial system that splits things into "price points". If you're in certain tax brackets you get tried a certain way. If you're a corporation, CEO of a big corporation, or a board member / officer then you also get special treatment as well.

(In fact, one of the best recent representations of this is the trial scene from the new season of Helluva Boss where Solas is not executed when taking responsibility for the crime Blitz is accused of when Blitz was going to be executed for it.)

We then split all of this into what we call "blue collar" and "white collar" crime. White collar crime does more damage to people than what we classify as blue collar crime.

The latter is what we make television shows and podcasts out of, the former is maybe touched upon in a legal or financial drama.

The latter involves people who fall in the realm of Ed Gein who maybe kill into the double digits, the former involves people who make decisions that harm and/or kill into the hundreds if not thousands.

The latter involves robberies and assaults, the latter involves people going into debt because of a corporate decision and maybe committing suicide because they can't pay it off.

The latter involves vandalism of a building, the former involves a company being slapped with a fine because they polluted an entire area and now the residents have to deal with life altering and damaging health issues.

In my time as a forensic consultant I have worked cases that would fit into Hannibal very easily. So have my colleagues. It's not uncommon for us to encounter something at a crime scene that we would call ontologically evil because it is absolutely horrific to witness. I've been on a few cases where I would definitely classify the perpetrator of the crime as such.

But considering all of that... I would still say the worst crimes are committed by corporations and their leadership because they do so much more damage. They harm so many more people and our legal system is not set up for that.

It's set up to handle the murder, the robbery, and so on. It's set up so that people can receive justice for very immediate and visceral crimes. It's punitive and handles the individual.

It was barely set up to handle something like Love Canal.

It's definitely not set up to measure and act upon the scale of harm that corporations and their leadership impart upon the average citizen through exploiting loopholes in regulations, committing actual criminal behavior, and other unethical acts that simply result in a fine. It doesn't know how to prosecute a company and its leadership for causing lifelong harm to people.

We are still using criminological theory from the 18th century as the basis for a lot of our criminal justice system. So you can understand why it's not set up to handle white collar crime that would impact whole populations.

I personally can't recall any conversation with a colleague where we discussed a CEO or board members actually being charged with something that encapsulated the harm they did to people. It's always some form of fraud or embezzlement, because money matters more.

That's the issue. Those charges usually result in a fine which can easily be paid off and then they're back to it. Maybe they get fired, maybe the company is dissolved, but rarely do we get a Bernie Madoff like ending. Even then, the charge against Madoff was for the ponzi scheme he was running. A financial crime.

And that's the crux of it all. We are all witness to the privileges given to certain tax brackets here in the USA. The blatant corruption, bending of ethics and morals, and exploitation of legal and regulatory loopholes with no real recourse. I'm not surprised something like this happened. I'm shocked that it didn't happen sooner to be honest. Yes, we can change the system in some instances. But in others? You're naive. Completely and utterly. Remember my post about the ghost gun and how the NRA controls firearm research in this country and threatens careers? That's been since the 90s. That's 30ish years. You sound just like the grad student who comes in with big ideas who thinks they can change the system and we all look at you and go "good luck kid, but here's all our attempts, our continuing attempts, and the threats we've gotten." It's a been there, done that situation that only changes when the powers that be actually feel that they're no longer untouchable and under threat. It's the way it has always been (I even have some examples in entomology like this I can throw out there as well).

Now, I'm not saying we should go full Robespierre and drag every CEO out to the guillotine. I'm not an accelerationist or maximalist by any account. But I'm not crying over this at all, nor am I shaming anyone who is cheerfully celebrating. Hell, many of us recently celebrated the death of leaders whose crimes would fall into the blue collar category (and you should be able to understand the impact of both and how bad both things are).

But our legal system needs a complete and utter overhaul to handle white collar crime that happens in the modern era and address the very real harm that these companies and leadership do. I would love to see actual legal repercussions for these companies and have them held accountable for the harm they've done. But I realistically don't think that will happen in my life time, and neither do a lot of others. Hence why something like this did happen, and will likely happen again.

[omgsecretsecret]

Mintitties

Saw this Lino pic and couldn't help myself

Pairing : subby Lee Minho x dom gn!reader

Genre : smut/VERY suggestive

Word count : about 750

Warning : men wearing slutty bralette ; mention of handjob ; not very described oral sex (m receiving) ; mention of praise and 'good boy' ; implied public suggestive ig if that makes sense? (because of Minho's lingerie)

Author's note : I've been obsessed with Minho's tits chest for a while now and I had to write something about it ; it's a bit different from usual ; this is not proofread and I wrote it very quickly sorry ; the drawing on top is from "Master x Secretary" on Scan-Manga (it's a very hot, nice and short +18 yaoi)

First idea : Thinking about humiliated, shy Minho being scared someone would see the lacy little slutty bralette you made him wear under his very thin white shirt, just the thought making his ears turn red, and his dick twitch.

Taglist : @giddyfatherchris <3

Masterlist

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It's so hot to see the way his chest look so big now that he got more buff, sometimes almost like actual fucking tits when his tight shirts hug his body so good as he moves.

So when you randomly happen look for clothes and see some pretty little bralette's made for male bodies, your boyfriend immediately comes to your mind and you have to buy one.

Making him wear it was kinda hard. He likes this kind of stuff, but he'll never admit it, and you know that. He'd keep saying that such a pretty little bra is something you should have, but the way his ears were red from the second you mentioned him wearing it are a dead giveaway. Don't expect him to agree easily just because he is obviously turned on by the idea though, no. This man wants to look tough, like he is the one in command no matter what, even though you both know it is definitely not always the case.

You have to play a little bit dirty to get him to do it, almost begging him with pleading eyes as if you were the one submitting. It makes him feel powerful and he likes it. You do too honestly, he's so cute like this, trying to be dominant when you can always see the tiny little bit of cute excitement in his demeanor, so you let him have his fun.

Maybe he'll be a bit mean and make you suck him off just to be sure you want him to wear that, and you have to agree because it's just the best way to make him say yes, make him feel like he's on top. Plus it's not like you could ever say no to a dick like your boyfriend's anyway. He's always so gorgeous when he struggles to keep it together because of your warm, wet mouth, trying to suppress his loudest moans.

In the end it works. Obviously. He watches you swallow everything he gives you, cheeks flushed and hair messy as he breathlessly says he'll wear your 'stupid bralette' between ragged pants, and you can't help but smirk.

His chest has always been so sensitive, one of your favorite parts of his body to play with. He gets so whiny when you gently knead his pecs or suckle on his pretty pink nipples, it's just irresistible.

You chuckle lightly as he whimpers when you help him put the damn thing on, watching as his ears turn red and you can't resist the urge to tease him. He protests but you shush him gently, reminding him that he agreed on doing that today. He closes his mouth with a blush, looking away and almost squirming in your hands when you whisper a praise in his ear.

You pull away when you're done, satisfied with the results as you look at him. He looks so hot wearing this, so shy but so turned, so yours.

He gasps when he looks at himself in the mirror, your hands lightly traveling over his torso to show him every little thing that makes him so beautiful in it. He gets so hard in his pants watching the way your hands move on his body. He finds himself so pretty.

You can't leave him like that, not when he looks back at you with such big doe eyes pleading you to touch him. So you help him again, make him cum in your hand as you keep telling him just how much of a beautiful slut he is for you.

He is a mess by the time you're ready to go out. You picked his thinest white shirt for him to wear, an almost see-through one.

If it starts raining, he's fucked.

He eyes you nervously when he comes out of the room wearing it, asking if it really is a good idea. You just tell him that he needs to be a good boy for you since he agreed on doing this, and you'll be there to take care of him. He shyly nods and you give him a kiss, ready to leave.

But when you open the door and accidentally brush your arm on his chest, he fucking moans.

How is he going to survive the whole day ?

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do not repost, translate or rewrite without my written authorisation

[b1xi]

───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Haikyuu(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count: 5860

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

With your recent addition to Karasuno's volleyball team, you had been trying to catch up on the sport’s basics. You’d watched a few games on TV, but it was hard to stay awake until the end; genuine interest in volleyball still hadn’t really taken root for you.

Most of your time in the gym consisted of supporting Hinata, shielding him from Kageyama’s frustrated outbursts whenever he made a mistake. Usually, you’d spend those hours sitting on the floor, reviewing sheet music or doodling in your notebook. On rare occasions, Hinata would insist on teaching you the basics of serving and receiving, which always ended in laughter and failed attempts to learn.

"So, what exactly do you do in the club?" asked Nayuta, plopping down beside you. Both of you watched Hinata and Kageyama train on the outdoor court under the shade of a large tree. Comfortable in your company, your friend pulled out a couple of candies from her bag, offering one to you without waiting for a reply.

"For now, absolutely nothing," you admitted with a sigh that clearly showed your growing boredom. The past few days had felt like an endless loop of watching the two rookies practice over and over to prepare for Saturday's match against Daichi.

"Is there at least anyone handsome enough to make spending your afternoons there worthwhile?" Nayuta joked, casting a critical look at the scene before biting into a piece of chocolate and offering you another. "Because if that’s the case, maybe I should join too," she added with a wink.

"Is there really any appeal in watching sweaty teenagers run after a ball?" you replied, letting yourself be drawn into the humor of the conversation while savoring the chocolate.

"Try to think of them like puppies," she suggested, straightening up to adjust her jacket. Her laughter grew louder as she watched Hinata doing everything he could to retrieve the ball, which had gotten stuck in one of the tree branches. Both of you burst into laughter when, after much effort, the boy finally managed to get it down, only for Kageyama to throw the ball at him as he turned around, accidentally hitting him in the face.

"See?" Nayuta remarked, stifling her laughter. "Just like clumsy puppies.”

You both spent a while lost in your own little bubble, chatting about boys, sharing gossip, and trading funny stories from your former schools. When the alarm on Nayuta's watch went off, you both snapped back to reality. "Wow, I have to get back home," Nayuta sighed as she stood up, brushing dirt off her skirt and tucking a few dark strands of hair behind her ear before picking up her bag.

"Alright, I’m off. Are you staying a bit longer, or do you want me to walk you out?" she offered with a smile. You thanked her but shook your head; Hinata had asked you to wait for him that day so you could walk home together.

You said goodbye to Nayuta, and once she left, you walked over to where Hinata and Kageyama were still practicing with boundless energy. "Hinata, it’s getting dark. Don’t you think it’s time to go?" you commented, using your fingers to tidy up a bit of your messy hair and adjusting the Pochacco hair clip you wore.

"Just one more time!" Hinata replied, his focus entirely on the ball Kageyama had just tossed to him. Just as the redhead was about to receive it, a hand extended over his head and caught the ball in mid-air.

Both of them turned around, surprised, to see two students who looked like they were first or second years. One of them was impressively tall, even taller than Kageyama.

"So here you were, training outside... you must be the first-years who caused trouble on the first day," the blonde boy commented confidently as he held the ball.

"Give it back!" demanded Hinata, stretching to reach it, but the blonde easily raised his arm, making it nearly impossible for the short redhead to get to it.

"Little kids should go home," the blonde said with a mocking smile, as if the three of them were little more than a joke. Visibly angered, Hinata clenched his fists and raised his voice.

"And who do you think you are?" Hinata retorted, annoyed by the newcomers' attitude.

"They’re the other first-years who joined the team," Kageyama commented, not hiding his irritation as he stared at them.

"First-years?" you couldn't help but exclaim, observing in astonishment the height of both boys. Your gaze lingered on the blonde, who was especially tall. "But... they’re so tall…" you murmured, more to yourself than to anyone else.

Kageyama, challenging the two newcomers with his gaze, asked directly, "How tall are you?"

"Tsukki is 1.88 meters," the freckled boy accompanying the blonde chimed in, speaking with evident enthusiasm. "And soon, he'll be 1.90 meters."

"Tsukki?" You wondered if that was a nickname since the blonde didn’t seem like someone with such a sweet-sounding name.

"Why are you bragging, Yamaguchi?" grumbled the blonde boy—apparently Tsukki—with a tone that revealed a mix of annoyance and resignation, as if this situation repeated itself often.

"Sorry, Tsukki," murmured the freckled boy, lowering his gaze. There was something endearing about his attitude that made you smile; he seemed genuinely friendly.

"You're Kageyama from Kitagawa Daiichi, right?" continued the blonde boy, momentarily ignoring his friend. "What’s someone like you doing at Karasuno?" His tone had a hint of mockery, but it also made it clear that Kageyama was known. You wondered how famous or talented he must be for everyone to know his name.

Hinata, unable to stand being ignored, raised his voice again, interrupting the conversation. "Hey, we’re not going to lose on Saturday! Got that?" His determination was admirable, though it seemed the blonde didn’t share his enthusiasm.

Tsukki, as his friend called him, cast a scrutinizing glance at Hinata before speaking, his tone filled with indifference. "I see. Maybe it’s important to you guys, but I couldn’t care less. Winning or losing doesn’t matter to me, so if you need it, I could… hold back," he commented nonchalantly, spinning the ball in his hands.

Hold back? Who did this guy think he was? You were surprised by his attitude, and apparently, you weren’t the only one.

"Whether you hold back or not, I’ll beat you anyway," replied Kageyama, looking at him with a coldness that conveyed his challenge.

"Say it in plural!" corrected Hinata, furious at the way Kageyama took all the responsibility solely for himself. Hinata’s response provoked a slight, sardonic laugh from Tsukki.

"Such confidence… no wonder they call you the King," the blonde scoffed, his words laced with an evident venom that didn’t go unnoticed.

The mention of the nickname made Kageyama’s expression harden. "Don’t call me that," he muttered, his eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and contained shame.

You were briefly distracted from the confrontation when you felt a gaze fixed on you. Turning, you noticed it was Yamaguchi, who was watching his friend and then you, as if evaluating the situation. Realizing you’d noticed him, he quickly looked away, turning his attention back to Tsukki and Kageyama.

The tension reached a critical point when Kageyama, with a scowl, grabbed Tsukki by the collar of his shirt, his eyes filled with hatred and defiance. Watching the scene, you felt it was time to step in before things got out of hand.

"Alright, that’s enough," you interrupted firmly, approaching Kageyama. You looked at him seriously, and your eyes met his, which slowly softened before he looked away from Tsukki. Finally, he let go and stepped back, still clearly upset.

“Let’s go,” said Kageyama, addressing you and Hinata, who nodded without saying a word. As you gathered your things and turned to leave, you looked back at Tsukki one last time. He was taller than you had initially noticed, and you had to look up to meet his eyes. You gave him a disapproving look before following your teammates.

“Are you going to run away? Seems like the King isn’t so important after all,” Tsukki commented provocatively, showing no limits to his boldness. His comment drew a threatening look from both you and Hinata, but he simply ignored the reaction. “Maybe I’ll beat you this Saturday,” he added casually, tossing the ball into the air once more. It was the chance Hinata had been waiting for; he sprang forward and caught the ball mid-air.

“Enough with the ‘King’ thing,” Hinata replied in an unusually serious tone. “I’m here too, and on Saturday, I’m going to spike right over you,” he promised, Defending Kageyama for the first time. It seemed the redhead was determined to face him, though a bit of nervousness made him step back slightly under the blonde’s challenging gaze. “W-what, you want to fight?”

Tsukki let out a snort, this time with a more neutral than sarcastic tone. “It’s not that serious,” he replied. “It’s just a club. Let’s have some fun.”

"It's not just a club!" Hinata replied.

“It is what it is,” the blonde said, shrugging and starting to walk away with his friend. However, he stopped when Hinata asked their names.

“Kei Tsukishima, class 1-4,” he finally responded.

“And I’m Tadashi Yamaguchi,” added his companion, introducing himself with a shy smile and a kind voice.

Tsukishima looked at Kageyama and then at Hinata. “From today, we’re teammates, but until Saturday… we’re rivals. I’m looking forward to seeing those famous ‘King’ sets.” With that, he turned around and started walking away, while Yamaguchi kindly said goodbye with a “See you.”

Before Hinata could respond, you grabbed him by the collar, dragging him in the opposite direction. “Enough, it’s time to go,” you insisted, tired of the confrontation and anticipating the scolding you might get if you were late. Ignoring Hinata’s complaints, you started walking at a brisk pace, noticing that Kageyama was silently following you as well.

You glanced at him from the corner of your eye and, in a firm tone, told him, “And you… I want you to crush them on Saturday.” The intensity of your words seemed to surprise him; his gaze met yours, and after a moment of reflection, he nodded with renewed determination. Without another word, he looked ahead, a new spark in his eyes, ready to face the challenge.

“Ahhh,” you yawned as you snuggled deeper into the softness of your sheets. You sank into the comfort of your bed, enjoying the luxury of sleeping in. But suddenly, something clicked in your mind. Wait a minute… it’s Saturday! The match!

You jumped up, tossing the sheets aside, and rushed to get dressed. You picked out a pink athletic outfit, the one your mom had bought you when you told her you’d joined the volleyball club.

You raced down the stairs, ready to dash out the door toward the school. However, just as you were crossing the doorway, you felt a tug on your bag that made you stop in your tracks. Turning around, you saw your dad, who was looking at you with a mischievous smile while he let go of your bag and ruffled your hair affectionately.

“And where do you think you’re going so early on a Saturday?” he asked, the smile never leaving his face.

“Dad, I have practice,” you lied, since you barely even touched the ball when you were at the gym. You glanced at the clock out of the corner of your eye, feeling the time slip away.

“Since when are you interested in sports?” he asked, watching you curiously. “You never play with me.”

“Because you don’t play either,” you replied impatiently, still keeping an eye on the clock. “Can I go now? I’m going to be late!”

He nodded with a resigned smile and, with a finger on your chest, added in a protective tone, “Be careful. And don’t let those kids bother you. If anyone crosses the line, don’t hesitate to tell me.”

“Yes, yes, bye!” you shouted, running down the street to get to school as quickly as possible.

When you reached the doors of the gym, you paused for a moment to catch your breath. You had run almost the entire way, and the wind had left your hair a mess. After quickly fixing it, you walked into the gym and noticed the game had already started. You went over to Sugawara, who greeted you with a warm smile. You looked at the scoreboard: Tsukishima and Yamaguchi’s team was leading by 16 points over Hinata and Kageyama’s team. It made you frown a little, though you were glad you’d made it in time for the first set.

“Y/N! Hi, I thought you weren’t going to make it,” Sugawara greeted you enthusiastically when he noticed you’d arrived. He looked at your athletic outfit and smiled, “Nice outfit.”

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you were sure you’d turned as red as a tomato. “T-Thanks,” you stammered, trying to calm yourself. It’s just a compliment, you reminded yourself. People give compliments all the time.

You both turned your attention back to the game as the whistle sounded for the next serve. It was Daichi’s turn, and he made a flawless serve. Kageyama prepared to set the ball perfectly to Hinata, and the redhead, with determination, hit the ball hard, managing to dodge Tsukishima’s block.

“Well done!” you shouted excitedly, unable to contain yourself. Hinata’s eyes lit up when he saw you, and for a brief moment, you noticed something different in Kageyama’s usually cold expression. Happiness? Satisfaction? You weren’t sure, but it seemed like he was sharing the same excitement.

“Y/N!” Hinata exclaimed, raising his hand proudly. “It touched my hand! I can’t believe it!” He stared at his hand in amazement, as if the contact with the ball had been something almost miraculous. Then, he motioned for you to take a closer look at his hand.

You laughed, caught up in his enthusiasm, and nodded. “You’re doing it, Hinata! Keep it up.”

Soon, everyone in the gym realized something incredible: Hinata hadn’t actually seen the ball when he made that impressive spike; he had placed complete trust in Kageyama, who had set the ball with amazing precision, right into his hand. Though they tried to replicate that move several times, they couldn’t quite achieve the same perfection, leaving everyone wondering if it had been a coincidence or just a lucky strike. The score was now 15 to 22; they were still behind, but the team spirit remained high.

You approached Hinata, who was rubbing the side of his face after getting hit by the ball again. You laughed a little at his embarrassed expression, especially when Kiyoko came over to check if he was okay, making him noticeably nervous.

“What’s so funny?” protested Hinata, flustered with a blush on his cheeks. “That’s the second time it’s hit me in the face!” He turned to Kageyama, frowning. “Did you do it on purpose? We’re on the same team, you know!” But Kageyama just ignored him, returning to his position without a word.

The whistle blew again, and both teams readied themselves. Yamaguchi took his position to serve, and Tanaka received the ball smoothly, passing it quickly to Kageyama. With quick and calculated movements, Kageyama prepared to set it up for Hinata. Tsukishima and Yamaguchi anticipated the move and readied themselves to block, but Hinata, agile and strategic, moved to the open side of the court just before the ball reached him. Bam! Another clean, successful spike.

Now they were in the second set, and the score was tied. You glanced over at Tsukishima, who seemed to be losing patience with his opponents' performance. When he noticed your gaze, you lifted your chin proudly and gave him your best “how do you like that?” expression. Tsukishima merely rolled his eyes in response, while Yamaguchi, noticing the exchange, let out a quiet laugh.

“Well done!” you praised Kageyama and Hinata after they managed to pull off their impressive spike once again, which they were starting to master. Sugawara, Ennoshita, and Kinoshita exchanged smiles, clearly inspired by your enthusiasm and competitive spirit.

Sugawara ruffled your hair affectionately. “You’re quite competitive,” he commented with a kind smile.

The score had moved forward, now 21 for Kageyama’s team and 25 for Tsukishima’s. Both teams looked visibly exhausted.

You went over to Hinata and Kageyama, giving Hinata a friendly pat on the back. He smiled when he saw you. “Y/N, did you see that? I’m amazing!” he exclaimed, overflowing with energy, hands on his hips and chest puffed out proudly.

“You’re getting better,” you congratulated him, handing him a water bottle. Hinata accepted it happily and took a drink, satisfied. Then, you turned to Kageyama. “Kageyama, well done.”

The dark-haired boy looked slightly surprised by your compliment, his gaze drifting away for a moment, avoiding direct eye contact. His response came in an almost inaudible murmur. “Thanks.”

He turned his back to you and Hinata, seeming nervous—a subtle shift in his posture that didn’t escape your notice.

“What’s up with you, Kageyama? What’s wrong?” Hinata asked with a mischievous smile, noticing his sudden reaction. Hinata’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he observed his teammate’s reddening ears. “Did you get nervous? Aw, can’t handle a compliment from a girl?” he teased, throwing an arm around your shoulders and giving you a playful look.

“Shut up!” growled Kageyama, but his tone lacked its usual authority. He still wouldn’t turn around, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.

Suddenly, Hinata’s attention shifted to Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, who were on their side of the court. With a quick gesture, he linked his arm with yours and pulled you toward them. “Kageyama, come on,” Hinata called, signaling for them to follow. “Tsukishima,” he continued determinedly, calling out to the tall, blond boy with glasses. He extended his hand toward him.

“What?” Tsukishima asked, looking at Hinata’s outstretched hand with evident confusion.

“We should shake hands before and after the match, even though we didn’t do it before,” Hinata explained, his tone a bit more serious but still carrying his characteristic positive energy. “Besides, we’re teammates now, even if I’m not too happy about it.”

Tsukishima didn’t seem too convinced by the idea. He stood rigid, his gaze drifting away, clearly uncomfortable with the suggestion.

“Come on, didn’t you know?” Hinata insisted, glancing behind him at Daichi, who was talking with Sugawara and Tanaka. “They’ll kick you off if you don’t have team spirit,” he added, waving his hand in front of Tsukishima like it was the answer to all his problems.

Tsukishima didn’t make a single move. “The reason they were kicked out was because they disobeyed the captain,” he explained in an annoyed tone, his gaze fixed on the three of you. “You guys started arguing and pulled the vice principal’s toupee off.” He cast a judgmental look at the three of you, as if your behavior had been completely out of place—and it was.

“F-forget those details,” Hinata retorted, biting his lip to keep calm while trying to maintain his composure. “Just shake my hand!” This was his final attempt before lunging at Tsukishima, though it was clear it wouldn’t be that easy.

Hinata tried to grab the blond’s hand, but Tsukishima, quicker and more agile, kept dodging from side to side to avoid the contact. The scene turned into a comedic spectacle, with Hinata chasing Tsukishima around while you and Kageyama watched without much interest.

“Y/N, help me!” Hinata shouted, visibly frustrated at not being able to accomplish his goal.

“Tsk, no way,” you replied, crossing your arms with an amused smile. You couldn’t help but enjoy the absurdity of the situation. Kageyama, for his part, simply observed the ridiculous spectacle without moving.

Finally, Hinata achieved the impossible: he managed to shake Tsukishima’s hand. The victory was fleeting, however, as Tsukishima looked at him with an expression of pure disgust, as if he’d just touched something completely unhygienic.

“Are you okay, Tsukki?” Yamaguchi asked, a mix of concern and horror on his face as he observed his friend’s reaction. Tsukishima didn’t reply, but his expression said it all, showing a blend of disdain and revulsion from having touched Hinata’s hand.

“Tsukishima!” Daichi’s firm voice interrupted the scene. The captain approached to speak privately with the blond, and you decided to take a few steps back, giving them space.

Meanwhile, Hinata and Kageyama pulled out a couple of crumpled papers from their pockets. “Captain!” Hinata exclaimed, holding both forms out to Daichi, who examined them closely. A slight jolt of panic hit you—was there something you were supposed to submit as well? You didn’t remember turning in anything like that.

“Shimizu!” Daichi called to the team manager, holding the forms in his hand. “The stuff arrived, right?” he asked, and Kiyoko nodded with a small smile.

“What stuff?” Hinata asked, visibly intrigued. Kiyoko approached, carrying a large box, which she carefully placed on the ground and opened. Inside, perfectly folded and ready to wear, were the Karasuno volleyball team jackets. Hinata let out a gasp of amazement and picked up a jacket, looking at it as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

“They should fit well,” Kiyoko commented as the new team members looked at their jackets with admiration. “But let me know if you need any adjustments,” she added before picking up the box and stepping away.

Tanaka, Sugawara, and you looked at the four new members in awe. “Oh, it looks great on you,” Sugawara complimented Hinata as he donned the jacket and showed it off proudly, as if wearing it was an honor in itself.

Daichi took a step forward, his voice filled with emotion. “From now on, we’re the Karasuno volleyball team,” he announced, his words brimming with pride. Then, with a quick countdown, all the team members shouted in unison, “Welcome!”

“Thank you!” the new members replied.

Hinata and Kageyama returned to the court, as energetic as ever. It seemed impossible that those two would ever tire. You looked around and noticed everyone was deep in conversation, forming lively little groups. You sighed and, feeling a small pang of loneliness, sat in a corner not too far from the others and turned on your PSP, seeking distraction.

It didn’t take long before a shadow fell over you, interrupting your game. You frowned, thinking it was Hinata again. “Now what…?” you muttered, looking up in mild annoyance, ready to face the redhead’s hyperactivity. But instead of Hinata, you found yourself looking at the imposing figure of Tsukishima, who eyed you with his typical critical expression and those honey-colored eyes that seemed to scrutinize every detail.

“Do you need something?” you asked, surprised by his presence but keeping your composure.

Tsukishima raised an eyebrow, maintaining that air of superiority as he rested his hands on his hips. “What exactly are you doing here?” he asked, not bothering to soften his tone.

You blinked, slightly taken aback. Right, you hadn’t had the chance to formally introduce yourself. “I’m the assistant coach,” you answered with a slight shrug, trying to sound casual.

“We don’t have a coach,” Tsukishima replied, raising an eyebrow again and leaning down a bit to get a better look at you. “Do you even know how to play, or are you just here to babysit the carrot-top?”

You scowled, resisting the urge to let his tone get to you. “Of course, I know how to play, b-but I’m not very good,” you admitted, standing your ground. “And, by the way, don’t call Hinata that.”

Tsukishima barely smirked, a sarcastic smile reflecting his usual provocative attitude. “Then prove it,” he challenged suddenly, not breaking eye contact.

“Prove what?” You looked at him, puzzled.

“That you know how to play,” he replied, crossing his arms with a defiant air. “Unless you want to take back your claim.”

The challenge in his eyes was evident, and you had no intention of backing down. You felt Yamaguchi watching with a mix of curiosity and nervousness, probably hoping the situation wouldn't escalate. Still, you didn't retreat. "Alright," you said with determination, "if that's what it takes to convince you."

Tsukishima stepped back a couple of paces, his lips curving into a nearly satisfied smile. Yamaguchi, who was still close by, gave you a friendlier smile and offered some encouraging words. "You don't have to do it. Tsukki sometimes just enjoys teasing," he said apologetically, trying to soften the challenge his friend had issued.

With a slight smile, you nodded to Yamaguchi before walking to the center of the court and picking up one of the balls lying on the ground. "It's fine," you replied, feeling a mix of nerves and determination as you prepared yourself.

"Make a serve. I'll receive it," called Tsukishima from a safe distance, his voice tinged with a mocking tone. "If you can, of course," he added, with a challenging smile.

You took a deep breath, trying not to let the pressure get to you. Come on, Y/N, you can do this, you reminded yourself. After all, Hinata had taught you some basic moves, and you'd practiced enough to trust in a solid serve.

You weighed the ball in your hands, tossing it into the air a few times as you gathered momentum. With a sigh, you went for a low serve, focusing on directing the ball with strength and precision towards Tsukishima. But just as the ball sailed across the court, the gym door burst open, drawing everyone's attention, including Tsukishima’s.

The impact was inevitable: the ball hit Tsukishima square in the face, who, surprised and with no time to react, fell to the ground from the force of the hit. A dull sound echoed in the gym, followed by a collective gasp of surprise.

"Tsukki!" exclaimed Yamaguchi, visibly worried, running over to his friend to make sure he was okay.

“Oh no…” you whispered, bringing your hands to your mouth as you took in the scene. "Shit!" you added, unable to hold back your reaction.

"Are you... are you alright?" You quickly approached Tsukishima and Yamaguchi, your voice rushed and filled with concern as you looked at the reddish mark on his cheek where the ball had hit. Tsukishima scowled, rubbing the side of his face, which still seemed sore from the blow. You tried not to laugh, although the scene was somewhat amusing in retrospect.

Noticing his glasses lying nearby, you hurried to pick them up. "Here you go," you murmured, quickly wiping the lenses with the edge of your sweatshirt. Then you knelt beside him and gently placed them back on the bridge of his nose. However, the glasses weren’t quite aligned, slipping slightly and giving him an unexpectedly adorable look.

"Sorry... really. I didn't mean to, you know..." you murmured, trying to sound sincere. Still, you couldn’t deny that a small part of you found some satisfaction in the incident, though, of course, you weren’t about to admit it aloud.

Tsukishima snorted, crossing his arms and regaining his usual air of superiority. "You could start by improving your aim if you actually know how to play," he commented, his tone dry, though not without a hint of irony.

You tried to lighten the moment with a smile. "Well, at least it was a strong serve," you joked, though Tsukishima didn’t seem to find it funny; instead, he frowned, crossing his arms.

"It was a pathetic serve," he replied coldly, looking at you as if you were entirely responsible for the situation.

"Not my fault you couldn’t receive a beginner’s serve," you defended yourself firmly. "Why were you distracted?"

"And you were distracted too," Tsukishima retorted, his tone no less challenging.

"Guys, guys, come on, it was just an accident," Yamaguchi interjected with a nervous smile, trying to mediate in the argument.

Tsukishima, however, cut him off immediately. "Shut up, Yamaguchi."

"Hey, don’t tell him to shut up!" you protested, shooting Tsukishima a reproachful look. There was something in his arrogant attitude that pushed you to challenge him, and you weren’t about to let him belittle his own friend.

Before Tsukishima could respond, Tanaka called out to the three of you from the other side of the court. "Hey, you three, come here!" His voice had its usual energy, and when you turned, you realized that the rest of the team had already gathered around Takeda-sensei, who was waiting to give instructions.

"We’ll have a match after classes," Takeda-sensei explained calmly, waiting for everyone to pay attention. "It'll be after school, so there’s only one game. We'll rent a bus for transportation, so don’t be late. Understood?" The players nodded in unison, and the excitement among the new members was palpable.

After practice ended, you packed up your things and made sure to leave the gym in order along with the others. With your bag slung over your shoulder, you walked home leisurely, enjoying the cool evening air.

As you reached your front door, you began searching your pocket for the keys, when you heard a familiar voice.

"Hi!" It was Hinata, who was passing by quickly on his bike, greeting you with a big smile. "Bye!" he shouted as he disappeared down the street, his energy as contagious as ever. You couldn’t help but smile and shake your head.

“Where the hell is he!?” Nayuta growled, pacing back and forth in front of your desk in the classroom. You had never seen her this angry before, and her footsteps echoed with a frantic rhythm. The three of you were supposed to split the science project to make it easier: each person would do a part, and then you would all put it together at school. But now, the only part missing was Hinata’s, and the redhead still hadn’t shown up.

“I swear to God, if he doesn’t show up, I…” Nayuta left the threat unfinished, but her hands, clenched as if trying to crush something, made the message clear. The frustration on her face made you bite back a smile; it wasn’t wise to joke around in this moment.

“Come on, Yuyu, maybe he just didn’t have time to do it,” you tried to smooth things over, hoping to calm her down. However, Nayuta shot you a look as sharp as her feline eyes, clearly unconvinced.

“Don’t justify him, Y/N,” she snapped, pointing her finger accusingly at you before returning to check her phone for the fifth time. “This is exactly why we shouldn’t trust short people,” she sighed in exasperation, as if she had just uncovered the root of all the problems.

You had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing. Her logic was absurd, considering that Nayuta was the same height as Hinata. However, you decided to let the comment slide and shift tactics.

“What if we go look for him?” you suggested. “Maybe something came up, and he needs help.”

“Where do you think that restless butt is?” Nayuta asked, crossing her arms and looking at you skeptically.

“Well, maybe in the gym…” you started to say, but then remembered something. You had overheard some of the guys talking about using the club room to change and leave their things. “I think I know where they might be.”

You stood up and grabbed Nayuta’s hand, guiding her purposefully through the hallways. As you walked through the school, the familiarity of the surroundings made Nayuta relax her grip slightly, though she remained on edge.

Eventually, you spotted a small building with several rooms inside. “Are first-year students allowed to be here?” Nayuta asked, giving you a concerned look while holding your hand a bit tighter.

“I think so. Plus, we’re just going to talk to Hinata; it’ll only be a minute,” you reassured her with a smile. You started climbing the stairs to the second floor, and Nayuta followed closely behind.

“Are you sure this is the right place?” Nayuta murmured, her eyes scanning the identical doors along the hallway.

Without hesitation, you knocked on the door and called softly, “Hinata? Are you in there?”

Immediately, there was a commotion behind the door, and above everything, you heard the voice of the redhead exclaiming, “Ah, it’s her!” His words were accompanied by the sounds of things falling and hurried footsteps. It seemed like he was clinging to the shelf, as if preparing for a battle. Tanaka, with disbelief in his tone, chimed in. “What’s wrong with you, man? It’s just Y/N.”

“It’s not Y/N… it’s Nayuta…” Hinata murmured, unaware that his words were heard on the other side.

Nayuta’s expression hardened, and before you could stop her, she called out firmly, “Come out already, Shoyo! We can hear you perfectly. Stop being a coward.” Her threatening tone hinted that her patience was quickly running out. She was on the verge of completely losing her cool when, instinctively, you covered her mouth with your hand, trying to keep the situation from escalating.

"Eh… what Nayuta meant," you let out a nervous laugh, trying to ease the tension, "is that we just want to discuss the science project. It's nothing serious, I promise." You tried to sound as calm and friendly as possible, hoping that would help calm the redhead down.

On the other side of the door, you heard Hinata's desperate mumbling. “Kageyama, go out and tell them I’m not here!”

“Not a chance. If you want to dodge them, do it yourself,” came Kageyama’s reply, as he put on his sports jacket with a resigned expression.

After a few tense seconds of waiting, the door finally opened, and Hinata shot out like a bolt of lightning, one hand clutching his stomach and his face filled with panic. Before you could react, Nayuta tried to rush after him, clearly intent on making him pay for being late.

“Let me go so I can give him a lesson!” she growled, trying to free herself from your grip. You held her firmly around the waist, doing your best to contain her outburst.

“Come on, Yuyu,” you whispered in a conciliatory tone, though you struggled to hold back a laugh at her determination. “We’re friends; we have to get along... and love each other, right?” Even though you said it as calmly as you could, the strength Nayuta was putting up made it a challenge to keep her still.

“It’ll just be a little smack!” she insisted, her voice full of indignation. Nayuta’s dark hair swung, brushing against your face and partially blocking your vision. Amidst nervous laughter and struggling, you both turned around, and your eyes fell on the partially open door in front of you.

Then, both of you froze.

The sound of laughter and murmurs disappeared as you saw, to your surprise and horror, that the club room was occupied by several of the guys from the team… at various stages of changing clothes. Daichi, with his back to you, shirtless and looking incredulous, turned around upon seeing you. Tanaka, equally surprised, was in the middle of pulling up his pants, freezing when he noticed your presence.

Almost instinctively, you covered Nayuta’s eyes while quickly closing your own, taking a few awkward steps back. “Sorry!” you managed to exclaim, your voice breaking with nerves and embarrassment. Nayuta, still frozen in place, stopped resisting, and between murmurs and apologies, both of you stepped away from the door with your faces completely flushed.

As you backed away with hurried apologies, you heard the guys’ restrained laughter, along with a “Next time, knock!” said amid chuckles. Finally, you managed to exit the building, exchanging surprised and embarrassed glances that quickly turned into laughter.

[tinalbion]

'𝐓𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞' ||

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: The Ghoul x fem!Reader

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄! Minors, DO NOT interact! Smut with plot, oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, murder, canon typical language, attempted kidnapping, radiation poisoning

𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐭𝐡: 10k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The second part (sort of) to Perfectly Misaligned, someone read it and was curious about the radiation poisoning aspect, so I gave it to them! The Ghoul trusts your judgment after being in his company for about a year now, but after your shared night together, you made what you thought was a simple mistake that almost cost your life not once, but twice. Will the Ghoul be able to save you?

© 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐧. 𝐃𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫.

If he had just gotten out of his own head, then maybe he would have noticed how ill you’d been feeling, and maybe it wouldn’t have progressed the way it did. Or maybe if he would have just minded his own damn business and kept you at arm’s length like he initially wanted to, neither of you would be in this mess in the first place. 

But even in those two hundred years wandering the wastelands, he was bound to make a mistake, even if he didn’t want to acknowledge it was possible. 

He knew you were smart enough when it came to survival, so he never questioned you or your methods or how you handled your personal affairs. So you both trudged on after the rad storm and only mere days later, you two were on your way, scouting small dives and gathering spots for low lives and scum that would do just about anything for some caps or chems. It had been an awkward time for the both of you after the night you shared, and both of you were too apprehensive to speak of the things you’d done in case the other had disapproved of the conversation. And once again, you knew better than to push it, besides, you both came to an agreement that night: a proposal between you both to release some tension when needed. That was it. 

Maybe it was best not to push it too far in case he changed his mind, so you’d give him time, you were patient. But the Ghoul was the complete opposite. He disguised himself to be the type who could wait out anything, but there was always that itch, much like the one in his trigger finger that kept his decisions impulsive and sporadic. 

So you continued, pushing yourself to venture forth, falling back into old habits with your memory of him in such a compromising way tucked in the back of your mind. You did what you did best and sought information, some of the targets easily let their drunken thoughts slip when a pretty girl sat with them and liquored them up, others were more guarded and kept their eye on you, but nothing a little touch to their inner thigh wouldn't fix, all while the Ghoul watched intently from afar. 

He often watched how you slipped into the part so easily, and the part you played depended on the person you needed the information from. It was rare in the beginning for him to see you like this, and hell, he even fancied seeing just how easily people had been sidetracked by your seductions when he first watched you work. But the more he watched, the more he paid attention to the movements of your hands, the way your body tensed whenever they would touch you, and how you fought the urge to recoil but kept your expressions as neutral as possible. Oh, how he found it to be enjoyable! He had a curious thought as he watched you, he wondered if there was something about him that made you come to him with such a personal offer.

The corner of his mouth would pull into a cocky smile whenever he'd watch, his whiskey eyes stared with interest as he would see your face light up as soon as the information left the man's lips, and your head would turn slightly to meet the Ghoul’s gaze across the room. The slight smirk on your face, when you struck gold, was a sight he welcomed, and not just for the payload that it came with.

You'd slip away from the informant as soon as he was stupid enough to look away, easily slipping out of his sight and outside, away from prying eyes. The Ghoul would be right behind you on your heels, walking in sync with your footfalls. 

Most times, he'd tease you about how well you handled the men -and the women- when getting the information you needed, but this time, he was silent as he trailed alongside you. You looked at him from the corner of your eyes and silently regarded him, but you knew he had something to say and refused to say it. 

“You good?” He finally managed to ask, his eyes flickered over your face and then back ahead. 

Your brows furrowed together, confused by his question. “Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked him, your hand holding onto the strap of your bag as you adjusted it. “I got us the information, didn’t I?”

What he didn’t tell you was that your skin was more flushed than usual, and your forehead seemed to shine with the glaze of sweat that constantly coated it lately, but he figured you knew and decided not to comment on it considering you could take care of yourself. “Course you did,” he assured with that typical grin. 

You dropped it after that and continued your travels to the next town, which was a bit further away from your usual haunts, but you both could handle yourselves, yet there was a small nagging feeling in the back of your head. But as much as you tried to ignore it, you couldn't ignore the feeling that was creeping through your body. 

You set up camp near a small lake, or what was left of the pathetic excuse of a puddle that used to be a lake, and you stared out across the hillside while the fire crackled behind you. The Ghoul sat and fried up some of the meat he'd taken from some poor man's hide while you sipped greedily at your canteen, drinking the last few drops of the only water you had. You could boil some of what was left, maybe make it drinkable, but you were tired. Your body had felt as if it had been crushed by a yao guai the past two days, and you just chalked it up to constantly being on the move, you tried to assure yourself that was it. But you knew you were working against time now, and you couldn't bring the Ghoul into your personal fuck ups. The shame you felt for not realizing your stupidity sooner ate away at you. 

“It's like I'm campin’ with a mute nowadays, the hell is goin’ on in that head of yours, Bunny?”

You turned away from the skyline glittered with stars and looked over at him, his intense stare already on you. “What do you mean?” You asked.

“Ever since, well, you know when, you've been actin’ strange, almost distant, even.” He didn't move, his gaze didn't soften, he was more annoyed by your behavior than anything. 

“I've just been tired, feeling real out of it lately, I dunno, just need a good night's sleep I think.” You reached up and rubbed your neck, your eyes drooped slightly. You felt the fatigue hit you like a ton of bricks. “It has nothing to do with that night, I promise.”

This seemed to give the Ghoul something to think about, but he had no reason not to trust you, you hadn't given him a single reason yet. He nodded and leaned back again, resting against a large rock while he enjoyed the warmth of the fire before he headed into the large tent you'd both set up for the evening, but there was still something off about you, he just couldn’t put his finger on it. 

You joined him soon after at the fire and tried your best to keep that usual cheery disposition the Ghoul seemed to enjoy, but you’d fallen asleep sooner than expected as you listened to one of the many stories he liked to tell about his adventures across the wastelands. What you didn’t plan on was the Ghoul carrying you into the tent as you barely stirred, the worry he had was gone when you seemed to sleep comfortably, and he watched as your chest rose and fell as you looked so gentle while you dreamed. 

The days passed and you were feeling worse, your body was trying its best to fight off what you were suffering and it wasn't succeeding, but you kept your spirits high as you continued your journey, but you desperately needed to get your hands on some RadAway as soon as possible. You were mad at your carelessness after the night you and the Ghoul shared, thinking that all would be well if you were to take some of the chem to take care of the exposure you experienced. But after a few run-ins during your travels, you hadn't realized that the last couple of packs you had were used up, you were completely out. 

Your hands dug around frantically in your worn bag as you pushed your items around, looking intently for the familiar IV bag filled with liquid, or maybe one of the needles you got from that last merchant, but there was nothing. Your heart poured hard against your chest as the panic set in, but you couldn't bear to tell the Ghoul of your carelessness, this was no one's fault but your own, and you'd take care of it. If you didn't, what if he refused to touch you again? He wouldn’t find all the trouble you went through worth it, so he’d remain closed off to you once again, and you felt that it was a worse fate than suffering from radiation poisoning. 

Ridiculous, you knew this, but no amount of chems could beat the high you felt when his hands touched you the way they did.  

While the Ghoul tracked down which way a bounty could have gone, you ransacked everything you could in the abandoned diner that had a few parked cars still in front of it. You checked inside of those, then dug around the drawers, cabinets, and anything you could find that could have hidden away some treasures—desperation at its finest. The Ghoul just figured you were looking for extra caps or scrap to sell, which you often did in between merchants and settlements, so he left you to it. He walked along the inside as he waited for you, then quizzically pressed a button, which activated a jukebox that still seemed to work. 

“Well, hot damn,” he chuckled as the song started playing, transporting him back to when things didn't seem all that bad before the bombs dropped. If there was a time before he could go back to, it was when life wasn't so complicated, where it wasn't tooth and nail to fight to survive. He could wake up and expect to pour his heart out on the big screen, capturing the characters he so loved to play, but he hadn't thought of that part of him in so long, he was but a distant memory that no longer existed, that man was too weak to survive in the wastelands. 

While he reminisced about a time long past, you continued to dig around the area frantically, but you finally accepted that you wouldn't find anything you were looking for. The heavy sigh that left your lips echoed throughout the room. You'd never been so careless before, but you wouldn't dwell on that now, you had to get going and trudge on to another merchant. 

You stepped out of the back of the dining kitchen and peeked your head around to see where your traveling companion had gotten to, but it was quiet, save for the trickle of music you heard coming from the half-destroyed jukebox. It was a song your parents played for you when you could recall a time in the kitchen, your eyes closed gently and you smiled as you thought back on it. You were so wrapped up in the memory that you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps of the Ghoul step up beside you.

You looked over to see him regarding the jukebox with a sort of fondness in his eyes until he pulled his gaze to you, and then he wore a mischievous grin.  

“What?” You asked him suspiciously.

He hummed and reached over to grab your hand, pulling you into his grasp while his other hand rested gently on your waist. A side of this man you hadn’t known existed had begun to shine through little by little, a rare occasion for you both to witness. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What’s it look like, Bunny?” He asked dryly.

You just scoffed and allowed him to lead you across the floor, the weight of surviving and struggling through another day no longer a main concern, for now, you just enjoyed the moment before it fleeted away from you. You hadn’t danced in, well, you couldn’t recall when you ever did, but there was no time to think about that considering the Ghoul had tapped your boot with his own, getting you to move your foot. He told you to watch how he moved his feet, you had to mimic the direction in which he moved so you could follow along, and the more confident you became, the less stiff your body moved with his. Soon, you were swaying across the broken tiles and old debris, laughing at the way you felt lighthearted and silly, but the privacy of the moment was something you’d want to hold onto forever. 

‘It isn’t your sweet conversation

That brings this sensation

Oh no, it’s just the nearness of you-’

As sick as you were feeling, this dance lesson was something that you were glad you didn’t miss, but your body was fighting against you despite how happy you were feeling. You scolded yourself, hoping you could hang on for a little bit longer, but the Ghoul looked down at you as the gentle piano of the song played in the background, his eyes in those sunken-in sockets seemed troubled.

“You sure you’re good? You seem sicker than a dog lately, you feelin’ alright?”

“I uh, I’ll be fine, promise,” you lied with a small smile. “Just living in the moment, this is nice.”

He chuckled and knew you weren’t being completely honest with him, but if you knew what you were doing, then who was he to say otherwise? “Whatever you say, Bunny. And you ain’t too bad on your feet.” He smirked as he tested the waters and pulled away from you, then gave you a little spin. 

You spun and laughed as you almost tipped over, but he caught you with ease and he pulled you back flat on your feet. He stared down at you and wondered what it was you were thinking about, though he felt he wouldn’t admit to what he was thinking if given the chance. 

You looked up at him with the same look on your face, and your soft smile only grew when he kept staring. If only you could just have a bit of normalcy, you craved having just a slice of it like you once had, but all you could picture was him here with you, sort of in a moment like this one. This could be your new normal, him standing here with you, dancing around the desolate diner with the scratchy music playing. You laughed internally at the thought, but it didn’t hurt to pretend for now, but you’d deal with the ramifications later.

You thought you could feel it; the spark of something in the way he looked at you, and the way his hands held onto you as if you belonged here in his grasp, but you weren’t entirely sure. He didn’t budge, he was as still as a hunter watching its prey from the tall grass, but before you could say a word, the sudden rise of bile stung your throat. You began to cough and violently jerked from his arms and flung yourself away, gagging as you fell to your knees while you released the contents of your stomach onto the floor.

The Ghoul’s face turned to shock as he was beside you in an instant, his hand on your back while he stared down at you in sheer panic. “Bunny, what- are you okay?” He would wait for your answer while he attempted to comfort you, but human ailments hadn’t been a worry for him in so long, he had no idea what would be wrong.

After a moment, your breathing was heavy and you attempted to catch your breath before you responded. “I… I fucked up, cowboy, I’m sorry…” You turned to him, and the tears in your eyes from retching stung your eyes. 

“You didn’t do nothin’ of the sort-”

“I ran out of RadAway, I didn’t take anything after that night… I was careless.” You huffed as you stared up at him, looking and feeling so ashamed of your carelessness. As you were about to speak again, an odd sensation took over your body and you felt a sudden wave of dizziness, your eyes fluttered, and then you felt everything go black. 

The poisoning coursed through you rather quickly without any medicine, but the Ghoul didn’t have a drop on him either, so you were running on borrowed time until your body began to shut down and change drastically. He caught you before you fell unconscious, then slowly got to his feet and hoisted you into his arms, your limp body cradled against his chest as he searched around the diner for a safe place to keep you. He didn’t find much until his head tilted up as he groaned in frustration, his eyes then spotted a latch that led up to an attic or storage space of some kind. 

He gently set you down away from the area and opened the door, then climbed up the wooden ladder that slid down, and he peeked around to check the hidden room. It had been untouched for years up there, things were still neatly placed and packed away, so this would be the safest area to keep you until he could return.

Once you were up in the storage space and laid out on your blanket, he covered you with your jacket and looked around, hoping he could get lucky with a hidden medkit, but he turned up empty-handed.

“Dammit,” he muttered as he looked back at you. He knew you’d be pissed if he left you here, but he hid you away, you’d be safe until he returned. The Ghoul wasn’t sure how far away the next town was from where you were, so maybe he could return to the one previous. He had to do something, anything to get you what you needed before things took a turn for the worst, vomiting was only the beginning. He knelt beside you for a moment and looked down at your features, his eyes scanned your skin, anything that was alarming, but it had only been a few days since you both got close. He had time.

“I ain’t gonna be long, Bunny, I promise,” he muttered low, his gloved hand pulling your jacket up further to keep you covered, resisting the urge to smooth out your hair as a lover would do. “We’re gonna get you better.”

He stood and looked down at you while you slept, afraid to leave but too afraid to stay, he couldn’t just sit idly by and do nothing. So he left you there, locking up the crawl space door to assure your safety while he was away. It was an odd feeling as he traveled alone, not having you with him on an adventure almost felt wrong in a way, but the journey would hopefully be a quick one. 

His feet felt heavier than usual as he walked out of the diner, but he turned to look back at the decaying building and stared up at the walls that held you safely within them, but it was difficult for him to move forward. With a deep sigh and a hardened gaze, he sought after what he needed, and internally, that small little voice in his head had prayed for a miracle that you would be okay. 

You weren’t sure what happened, you were happily dancing one minute with the Ghoul, and the next was a complete blank, you just remember falling and that was it. Your eyes barely opened as you lazily rolled your head to the side, trying to focus your sight. You looked for him in your haze, calling out to him weakly, but no one responded to your calls. The Ghoul was probably just making sure no one approached the vicinity, you knew he would be overprotective in your current state. Another reason you cherished your friendship. 

Friendship, if that's what you want to call it. 

Your head was pounding and your body felt weak, on fire, and had the chills all at once, so you may have rested until he returned to your side. But the pain in your head was too much as it throbbed annoyingly, what else could you do but lay there as you stared at the ceiling filled with small holes? Yet the longer you lay there in silence, the more you realized just how quiet it was, and then you wondered if he was truly still wandering around the vicinity. 

What if he took it upon himself to… no, you had hoped not, that wasn't in your plans. You wanted to take care of it yourself when you were able to sleep it off, and yet there was the possibility that he took it upon himself. You slowly pushed yourself to your feet and almost tumbled into the wall, but you regained your footing well enough as you looked around the room. There was no indication he was here, even when you looked out of the second-story window, there was nothing. 

“Dammit,” you muttered. 

Of course, you caused problems for him, took him away from his work, and foiled it all. He'd never look at you again in such high regard, would he? Not after this. You cursed yourself and stumbled back to your makeshift bed, feeling the roughness of your dry throat that ached for water. As you reached for your pack, you hoped he'd come back and still give you a chance. Sleep was clawing at you again while you wondered if you could force yourself to remain awake, but you hadn't stood a chance. Your eyes closed and you prayed to whoever would listen to have him look at you like he did before. 

While you had slept, the Ghoul made decent progress across the wastelands to acquire what you needed, and he hoped he’d get it in time before your body shut down any further. He kept pushing the negative thoughts from his mind, whistling or humming that tune from the diner, just trying to make it through. Along the way, he took out raiders, random lone gunmen, and anyone else who figured he was easy pickings, patting them down after their bodies fell with a hard thud to the ground. He’d gathered a small collection of RadAway in his bag, but surely not enough to help you get back to yourself, so he promised himself only to find a few more. 

It was after this personal promise that he had stumbled into some hideout he didn’t know existed, yet he still pressed forward as if he had no time to deal with the several men who stepped out and blocked the view of the windows all around the destroyed building, but they insisted he stop to have a chat.

“Ain’t got time for autographs, boys, I got somethin’ important I gotta do,” he said as he brushed them off, walking past them without a second glance.

One of the raiders scoffed and raised his gun, cocking it to catch the Ghoul’s attention. “I ain’t askin’, freak,” the gunner guffawed. “Gimme what’s in your bag, now.”

The Ghoul took this as an insult, so he turned on his heels rather slowly, comically so as he looked at the four men who stood here, holding him up from his mission. “The fuck you just say to me?” He asked with a scoff. His hand had already rested comfortably on the hilt of his hand cannon, watching all the men with interest, mapping out the direction from which they’d all come after him. He was meticulous with his planning, making sure each bullet he shot wouldn’t go to waste. 

“You heard us, ghoul,” another man spat in reply, “give us what you got and you can keep your arms, possibly.”

The Ghoul chuckled to himself and lowered his gaze, his face hidden by the brim of his hat. “Now, I ain’t one to back down from a challenge, but I got someone who needs help. So I’ll cut y’all a deal. You got any RadAway? I’ll happily give you whatever is in this here bag,” he said as he patted the leather saddle bag. 

Whether it was a trick or not, the men figured if all he wanted was RadAway, he was stupid enough to trade it all for that. The one closest to the door walked inside, disappeared for a few moments, and came back with an entire bag filled with RadAway. 

“Figure with all the caps you probably got in there, we could buy more than we got,” the man laughed and tossed the bag onto the ground before him. “Now hand over the bag nice and easy,” he said.

“Well now,” the Ghoul started as he slid the bag from his shoulder and let it drop, “seems there’s been a change of plans, gentlemen.” With a fast hand and an even faster draw, the hand cannon was out and he shot all four men before they had a chance to react. “Been a pleasure doin’ business.” 

He walked up to the discarded bag and grabbed the IV bags, peering inside to ensure they were all accounted for. Most were untouched while others looked a tad worse for wear, but it was enough to be able to help you out and get you back on your feet. Just as he was about to throw his saddleback back over his shoulder, one last man emerged from the broken-down shack and took aim at the Ghoul. 

“You don't deserve to leave after what you did,” the man spat. 

The Ghoul stopped and cocked his head, not even bothering to look back at the man. “None of us deserve shit one way or the other, but my companion don't deserve to die.”

“Companion? You think your companion wants to be around you in the first place? You're a fucking ghoul, a freak. Probably just playin’ sick to get rid of you. But if it's RadAway you need, you're gonna end up killin’ ‘em anyway. Do them the favor and get the hell away from ‘em.” 

The Ghoul had more patience than a saint at that moment, but the part about killing you, it struck a nerve. Without looking back, he put an explosive bullet straight into the man's forehead, his head exploded with a large pop, and his body fell to the ground. 

“Fuck you,” the Ghoul huffed, grabbed his prize, his bag, and hustled back to the abandoned diner. 

If he hurried fast enough without stopping, maybe you had a fighting chance. 

You had thrown up several more times and could barely move from your makeshift bed, your limbs felt sore and your entire body was on fire. It felt uncomfortable just to lay there. How could you be so careless? Even though you were suffering from the effects of radiation poisoning, you knew that you'd never regret the decision you made that night. You’d happily do it again if given the chance. 

As you lay there half dazed, half-conscious, you swore you heard a melody from outside the gas station, you weren’t entirely sure. Poorly sung, the lyrics sounded screechy, it wasn’t exactly pleasant. But the voice wasn’t his, so you pushed yourself up as slowly and quietly as possible as you attempted to make your way over to the window. The sun was setting, the large ball of light almost hidden below the horizon as you peeked through the broken glass, seeing a group of three raiders wandering about as they heard the song playing on the jukebox.

You didn’t even realize it was still playing considering you’d been so out of it, but they figured someone had to have come here. Your plan was to be as quiet as possible, allowing them to think their timing was off, that someone just passed through and paid no mind to stick around. If push came to shove, you’d hole up on the roof and take them out from a higher ground. The Ghoul had taught you some basics since you would have rather run from combat than be a part of it, but he knew it was important to know if a situation ever arose. You’d have to thank him later for those helpful tips if you ended up needing them. 

The adrenaline was pumping through your system as they got closer, carelessly wandering, swinging their weapons into the nearby cars just for the sake of destruction. You wanted them to leave as soon as possible, so you hugged the nearest corner with your gun firmly in your grasp, and you did your best not to pass out at the most inopportune moment while you pressed your back against the wall.

The smaller man who had been looking around the outside of the diner didn’t seem interested in sticking around, but the other two wanted to be thorough in their search for anything worth the caps.

“Davie, c’mon, man, there’s nothing here,” the small man grumbled.

The larger man just laughed. “And what, you some all seeing, all knowing motherfucker now, Francis?” 

“Shut up, dick.” Francis huffed and waited outside, keeping an eye on the skyline in case there would be trouble.

The second man followed Davie inside the diner to scout around for anything, and he started pressing buttons on the jukebox. 

“Quit fuckin’ with that, Daren,” Davie barked as he tossed an empty box at him.

Daren huffed and continued to make his way around the diner, finding nothing of interest, but they made sure not to leave any stone unturned. 

As you sat up in the corner, you figured there was still a small chance they’d come up there, spot you, and do who knows what, but you had no real backup plan in case that were to happen. Maybe cover yourself with the blanket, pretend you were some discarded junk? Would that work? Raiders weren’t exactly the smartest bunch, but they’d smell you a mile away in a ridiculous cover, most likely. 

You calmed your breathing as they continued to ransack the kitchen area, right below where you were resting in the corner, and you couldn’t help but clasp your hand over your mouth just in case. You listened for them, pinpointing where they could be, how far away their voices were, or how close they’d gotten. Maybe they’d overlook the door altogether, they surely weren’t that thorough, right?

“Shit, Davie, there’s a door leading upstairs-” Daren pointed out, and you heard him tug at the small latch connected to it. 

Your heart dropped in the pit of your stomach as your entire body froze, your eyes went wide as you slowly pointed the gun toward the opening in case you needed to use it, but your hands were shaking so badly. Your vision blurred as you tried your best to will yourself still.

‘Don’t you dare pass out now, you idiot, keep still-’ You willed yourself, your hands slowly steadying to the best of your abilities. Your entire body was suddenly taken over with chills, your strength had been sapped from you as you leaned your head back, praying that they’d skip out on searching up there.

The footsteps beneath you got louder and you heard the door being yanked at. “What d’you think is up there?”

“Maybe the owner’s corpse with all his riches,” Daren laughed and pushed the door, but it was slightly stuck, so he slammed into it with his fist. The door was unlatched and splintered, causing it to remain slightly open.

Your body was shaking as you cowered deep into the corner, hoping they’d just gloss over you, but as soon as Daren stuck his head up through the opening, his eyes landed on you. You shook your head, hoping he wouldn’t say a word, your hand was hiding the gun beside you as you crouched down, but you couldn’t see well with the sweat beading onto your forehead dripping down your face.

“Well, well, we don’t have a corpse with riches, but we have a payload,” the man chuckled and pressed his way upward.

“What’cha got, Daren?” Davie asked as he remained downstairs.

“Please-” you begged him, “I have nothing, just take whatever’s in my bag, I’m sick…” You whispered, hoping he’d have a change of heart. 

He ignored everything you said and yanked at your wrist, causing you to yell out and quickly shoot a bullet into his arm. The raider released you and that’s when you scrambled toward the broken window, and despite your body screaming at you to not overexert yourself, you pushed through it and rolled onto the crackled shingles.

“The fuck happened?!” Davie barked as he climbed up the small ladder. 

“There’s a girl, we can use her for parts!” Daren called back, and Davie was immediately crawling up to assess the damage. “She fuckin’ shot me,” he growled as he ripped off a piece of his shirt, wrapping it around the wound. “Fuckin’ SHOT ME.”

You were too busy trying to figure out how badly it would hurt to drop down from this height, but you had either two large men manhandling you to deal with, or the smaller raider to grab you as soon as you hit the ground. You could probably take him, so you opted for the latter. As you timed it, you jumped and tried your best to land where you could shoot up right away and run, but Francis was too fast. He’d been assessing the entire thing from the outside, his weapon drawn, but once he caught sight of you, he yanked out the rope he had wrapped around his belt. 

“Where you goin’, sweetheart?”

“Fuck you,” you spat as you aimed and shot toward him, but you missed by just a few inches. “Fuck-”

Francis bolted toward you, his weapon drawn in one hand while the other gripped at the rope. He had a baseball bat primed and ready to incapacitate you if need be, swinging it mostly at your legs to bring you down, but you aimed your gun again and this time hit him in the shoulder. He let out an annoyed yell, then dug through his pocket, sucked in some sort of chemical, and you watched in horror as his expression transformed. 

His eyes bulged out, growing wide as the chem worked its way through his body, and the bullet wound was just a passing memory. He grew sporadic and violent with his swings, not calculating exactly where to hit, but blindly swinging so he’d at least hit something. You did your best to dodge and roll out of the way as he would hit, barely take a breath, and swing again, the speed in which he worked was insane. 

“Just leave me alone! I just wanna be left alone!” You screamed at the man, but if he could hear you, he showed no signs of listening. 

Davie and Daren popped out to see the smaller man going straight for you, so they decided to get around you and cut you off before you could run anywhere else. “Goin’ somewhere, sweetheart?” Daren yelled out a string of profanities and launched toward you, grabbed you by your arm, and yanked it hard, causing you to drop your only weapon.

Davie went around and grabbed your other arm, both of them lifting you from the ground as you dangled in between their grasp helplessly.

“Let me go!” You screamed again. 

“You shot me you fuckin’ whore, I ain’t letting you go after that. You’re going to the harvesters.”

“No, please, please! I’m sick!” You thrashed in their grasp, kicking your feet as they held onto you with a firm grip. With as much force as you could, you lunged at one of their arms and bit down. 

Daren shouted again and reeled his arm back, slapping you hard. You let out a cry and kicked even more, but Francis grabbed at your legs, tying them up before you could do any real damage before his chem ran out. Then the two larger men dropped you, taking that opportunity to tie you up completely, sure that you couldn’t escape your bonds now. 

“You wanna do the honors and carry her?” Davie asked.

“Fuck that, she shot and bit me,” Daren scoffed, kicking you in the ribs. 

Your body folded as you let out a cry, but Davie housed you up and tossed you over his shoulder. “Fine, fuckin’ whiney ass-”

“‘Scuse the hell out of you but where the fuck you  think you’re goin’ with my girl, there?” A voice called to them from behind. 

The three men all turned to look toward the Ghoul that stood there, his eyes glued to the figures that held onto his lucky rabbit's foot, and they sized him up without much worry. Daren’s annoyance grew with hearing your yells and seeing yet another obstacle in their way. 

“We found her first, ghoul, you can get your own smoothie somewhere else, yeah? She seems in top-notch condition and I ain’t one for sharin’.”

The Ghoul looked straight at you, taking notice in the smile you shot him as if to say thank goodness you’re here, he knew there’d be no way you’d want to escape him, right? “That there rabbit’s foot is mine, I don’t feel like partin’ with her just yet. So I’ll give you to the count of three to release her, or I’ll make you.”

The three men laughed hysterically and had no intentions of letting you go, and the smaller one -Francis- stepped forward. “Not sure if you heard us considerin’ your ears are kinda… gone? But She’s ours, finders keepers.”

“And I said, no.” The Ghoul said sternly, taking a single step forward, the familiar jingle of his boot spur seemed to cause you some comfort. “One.” The Ghoul held up his hand canon, took aim at the man on your right, Davie, and continued to glare. 

“You really got a problem here?”

Francis quickly took aim with the hidden .223 pistol he had stashed on his person and let out a bullet, hitting the Ghoul in his left shoulder. His body jerked slightly but he didn’t allow the force of the bullets to deter him much.  

“Two.”

Francis let off several more rounds into the Ghoul’s chest while Davie took out his 14mm pistol and landed a couple of rounds in him as well, but the Ghoul didn’t fall, nor did he back down. He smiled wickedly as he aimed his hand cannon, shooting each bullet off in succession. 

“Three.”

Daren’s left arm blasted off, and the splatter of blood covered your face as you ducked and yanked yourself from their grip, then Davie’s throat had been shot clean through, causing him to drop instantly. Francis was left alive, but barely, as he was attempting to crawl off with one missing leg. He was still riding the effects of the chem he inhaled, but they’d die off quickly with all the blood loss.

The Ghoul was one to play with his prey, so he slowly sauntered up to the raider and chuckled at the pathetic attempt of his escape. “Well damn,” he said as he squatted down closer and dug his finger into the gaping wound of his leg, causing him to scream.”If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that hurts.”

“Pl-please, stop, don’t h-hurt me, okay, man?! We just needed caps!”

“Ah well, I just needed to bring her some medicine to help her get better, and here you thought you could just up and take her?” He asked as he stood up, tilting his head down at the man with a mischievous smirk. He placed his boot onto the end of Francis’s leg and applied a gentle amount of pressure to keep him from crawling off too far.

You watched all of this, not feeling much remorse for him or the others after what they planned on doing to you, but you had no idea what you could have done if he hadn’t shown up when he did. You felt useless as you stood up shakily, your body swayed slightly as you tried to steady yourself, still feeling the poisoning coursing through you. The cold feeling took over and you felt your entire body drain of color as you fell to the ground again, but despite feeling faint again, you felt safe knowing he was here to help you.

The Ghoul’s eyes widened as you fell, so he removed his foot from the raider’s injury and aimed without a second thought at his head, blowing him away and taking care of the last issue that remained. He eagerly scooped you into his arms and knelt down beside you, digging through his pack to fish out the IV bag you needed. Wordlessly, he stared down at you as he opened your mouth, tipping the liquid inside as he watched you swallow it. When it went down smoothly, he let out a sigh of relief and let his head fall back, staring up at the sky as he thanked whatever was watching over you.

He sat there with you in his arms, his eyes directed toward the sky, and he laughed. “Fuckin’ lucky rabbit’s foot,” he mumbled as he slid the bag back onto his shoulder and hoisted you into his arms, taking you back to your bed in the attic of the diner. 

You awoke with a fierce headache, but your body overall didn’t feel like your blood was on fire, which was oddly suspicious. You recalled almost being kidnapped and taken, but then he appeared like some sort of twisted guardian angel, saving you at the last minute. The sun wasn’t up any longer, it was pitch black outside as you opened your eyes, the weariness of sleep slowly lifting like a veil being pulled up from your view. You turned to see him there, right next to you as he leaned his back against the wall, his hat tipped slightly low to cover his eyes as he tried to rest. There was no way to tell what he’d been through while he was gone, but he seemed pretty exhausted when he returned, or maybe you were delirious, but you were thankful he was here now. 

The urge to wake him was strong, wanting to just thank him profusely for what he’d done for you, it was more than anyone had done for you in your entire life. Without much debate, you sat up slowly and crawled over toward him, allowing your head to gently rest against his lap. He hadn’t stirred much, probably too worn from his travels to get that life-saving RadAway for you. You weren’t sure how you could ever repay him, but you’d figure it out. 

When morning came, you found yourself back in your makeshift bed, tucked in and comfortable with the Ghoul somehow laying next to you, his jacket draped over you for extra warmth, his hat abandoned to the side as he slept. But your slight movements woke him, and his deep still-human eyes met yours, sending your nerves on end. 

“Well, good morning, Bunny, you feelin’ any better?”

You nodded and stared into his eyes, unsure what to say or how to say it. “You got all that for me?” You asked, your voice soft and gentle as I looked over at the opened bag, the large handful of IV bags resting comfortably inside.

The Ghoul peeked over to the bag and back at you with a small smile. “Possibly,” he replied coolly. “Had to make sure you didn’t go and die on me,” he chuckled. “I ain’t done with you yet.”

You figured that was the sweetest confession you’d get from a man like this, so you took it and smiled wide while you scooted your body closer to his, gripping onto the remnants of his tattered shirt. “Thank you, cowboy, wouldn’t know what to do without you. And I’m sorry… I shouldn’t been so stupid-”

“You ain’t stupid, you should always tell me shit like this though, I could’a got some for you sooner,” he chastised. “Don’t hide shit like that, okay?” He seemed annoyed, but not by you, by the fact he could have lost you.

There wasn’t a way you could pinpoint what he was feeling, this man was a complicated creature, so you just stared across at the wall as you thought about your next words. “I just… didn’t want to trouble you. You think I’m this capable person who can help you when I’m not, I can’t even help myself. And I didn’t want you to… well…” You paused, unsure of how to word this next.

He didn’t rush you when you sought the words, he continued to lay there, offering you some form of comfort in the only way he knew how. The tension between the two of you was palpable as the time passed, and you could tell there was something on his mind. 

“I didn’t want you to be disappointed in me, and I didn’t want you to pull away… I don’t regret that night, I’d do it again with the same consequences,” you said firmly. 

He looked down at you, his eyes bore into yours as you spoke, telling him you would rather go through all of this pain and suffering again just to relive that night. This was stupidity, he thought, someone like you wanting to lower yourself to chase a night with him. He started to chuckle and shook his head as he looked at you.

“I could never quite get a read from you, you know that?” He said with a playful tone in his voice. “Can’t put my finger on it.”

Your hand gripped his shirt a little tighter, trying to fight that feeling that coiled in the depths of your belly, wanting to keep this moment pure and unsoiled due to how much of this hidden side the Ghoul was showing you right now, but you had a hunger for him like no other. “Is that such a bad thing?” You asked him.

This made him laugh again, his voice drawn out as there was a deep tone, almost like a mix between a hum and a growl. “Well I guess not,” he replied gently, trying to read this moment, but still being so caught off guard by your companionship, he wasn’t about to overstep. This side of him was uncharted for over two hundred years, he wasn’t sure if he was even capable of having this side of him anymore. His hand reached out and lingered over the one that gripped at his shirt, but he wasn’t sure if he should close that space.

Your head lifted to properly meet his gaze, staring into those eyes that seemed to reach the depths of your soul. “Can I do something?” You asked, your voice quiet, nervous. He nodded, allowing you to do whatever it was you wanted. With a soft push, you rolled to your knees, crawled over toward him, and gently placed your hand on his face, bringing yours closer. “You won’t be mad?”

He scoffed in response and continued to stare into your eyes, already seeing the life spring back into them, the color seeming even more bright than they were before. It was him who closed the gap between the two of you, his mouth hungrily capturing yours while he remained hands-off, allowing you to do as you please. He was just there to learn what he could, you’d show him what to do or how to go about it, he trusted you. And that was an unspoken bond if he ever had one. 

Your hand that was gently placed on his face stroked his textured skin softly with the pad of your thumb, while the other hand reached forward and slowly began to undo the tattered buttons on the shirt he wore. You took comfort in knowing he would tell you if he didn’t want you to continue, so you waited for any sign of that, but you were met with none. Your mouth continued to hungrily meld with his, your tongue darting out to swipe across his bottom lip, coaxing him to open further. He tried hard not to show you were getting to him, but the breathy sigh he made when your hand made contact with the bare upper half of his chest was one he couldn’t hold back. 

The smile on your face grew as you pushed the shirt from his form, both hands sliding off each side down his arms, the chill of his warm skin on yours was a feeling you sought after. He sat up and captured you in his arms, grabbing you rougher than intended, but he’d never hear you complain, and he moved your body effortlessly as he placed you down on your back, wanting to take control as he learned to explore you once again. 

He wasn’t feeling cocky or sure of himself this time, nor was he hiding behind the false boastfulness of his persona that he built for himself, but for the first time in so long, that deeply buried side of his former self slowly ate through. That ancient relic of a man he once was, the one that loved deeply. 

His hands began to work at your clothing, slowly removing your jacket, then your tank top and his fingers stopped at your undergarments, unsure if he should cross that line. You nodded as your hands reached behind you and removed it yourself, sliding the straps down your arms and revealing your bare skin to him. In this lighting, it was almost angelic as the sun kissed your skin through the broken window, his eyes drank in the sight of you while your hands went to remove the rest of what you wore. The Ghoul clenched his jaw when you were just about stripped, and his hands met yours at the hem of your underwear, asking to remove them himself without asking a thing. His hands skated down your outer thighs as you arched, allowing him to remove them completely.

No matter the lighting, the time of day, or whatever it was, he was very entranced by your body. How could something as soft looking as you survive in this harsh and blood-thirsty world? The dips, the curves, even the small knicks and markings you gained while being in the wastelands were like foreign land as his fingers explored you. You couldn’t handle how incredibly intimate this all felt, the Ghoul who was typically thirsty for blood and violence now examining your body as if it was his only salvation.

His head lowered to your breasts, kissing your skin softly as he left a soft, wet trail of kisses from your collarbone to your abdomen, wanting to see if he could try his luck. “I’m gonna try somethin’, tell me if you like it,” he said, breaking that silence to convey how new this was for him to get acquainted to.

You nodded. “Yeah, go ahead…” 

The Ghoul’s lips continued to trail down your waist, slowly tracing along your skin with his fingers until he stopped just above your core. His fingers gently slid between the folds, testing just how excited you’d been, and he was not disappointed. You had been one to grow exceedingly excited just from his touch alone. He pulled his fingers away from you and placed several firm kisses against you, gauging those pretty little sounds you had spilled from your mouth. His hot breath tickled against your skin before his tongue slowly slid against you teasingly, then he did it again and again as your body convulsed, your muscles tensing whenever his tongue delved slightly deeper. 

He’d remembered from your last encounter what really pushed you over the edge and brought his thumb against you, rubbing teasing circles against your clit while he continued to use his mouth. The sounds and cries he pulled from you were only causing him to grow hungrier, your broken sentences strung together into gibberish, only able to whine from the growing build up in your lower belly that coiled tightly. 

His tongue slid further into you and your body jolted slightly, your thighs almost tightened around him, so he made himself comfortable and gripped your thighs firmly, holding them in place while he continued to assault you with his tongue.

“Fuck, cowboy,” you groaned out, your thighs shaking as he pulled away, leaving hard bites around your inner thighs and your waist, marking you to make sure you remembered who made you feel this way. 

“This feelin’ good, Bunny? Am I gettin’ this right?”

“You’re driving me insane, yes, yes-” You cried out while he licked through your folds once as you spoke, the devilish smile on his face only growing wider. Your nails dug into the sleeping bag beneath you, but your hands grabbed at his shoulders and dug in slightly to his textured skin, causing the Ghoul to bury his mouth even further against you. The moans you released were almost melodious, angelic in a way. 

The Ghoul now sucked at your sensitive flesh, making sure not to inflict too much pain unless you instructed him to, and one of his hands left your thigh so he could push two of his fingers deep inside of your warm sex. He was gentle at first in his movements, but the man was starved, needing to go faster with his mouth and his fingers. 

“You feelin’ okay?” He asked, checking on you as your body continued to spasm beneath his grip. 

All you could do was nod frantically. “I’m so close, cowboy,” you warned, your voice cracking as your entire body ignited in chills. 

“Don’t hold back, Bunny, tell me how I’m doin’,” he said, leaving no room for questioning as his tongue continued to gently slide across your heated flesh. He continued to curl his fingers in a gentle motion, his eyes peered up at your face as he worked. “How badly you wanna cum?”

“Please, I need to so bad, it feels so good,” you cried out as you tried your best to hang on, wanting him to continue. 

“Let go then,” the Ghoul commanded, his mouth continued to lick and suck at your folds as his fingers picked up their pace, his mouth working fervently as he tried his best to bring you close to the edge. 

Your fingers gripped at the blanket beneath you, your leg still being held firmly in place while your body trembled from the pleasure, keeping you in place as you chased your orgasm. You were seeing white as you squeezed your eyes shut, you moaned out the playful nickname you gave him, not sure what else to call him as the wave of your pleasure carried you to new heights. Your body lay back against the floor as you felt the energy sapped from you, your breathing was ragged and heavy as you peeked up to see the Ghoul lean back on his knees, your release coating his mouth and chin as he quickly wiped it off with his thumb, sucking it off until he was as clean as he could get. 

Words couldn’t describe what you felt with him now, being on the brink of death only to be brought back and then seek out an orgasm that hard was… it was a wave of emotions. You hoped he wouldn’t leave you there like that, but he ended up surprising you and pulling you toward him, sheltering you in his embrace as he found his spot beside you on the floor. 

He couldn’t fathom what he’d say at this moment, what could he say right now? “You know, I was almost convinced you made a mistake,” he said, his voice low. 

You looked up at him with a grimace, trying to understand what he meant. 

“You lowerin’ yourself to get all physical with someone like me,” he clarified. “And if this keeps up, I’m just gonna end up killin’ you anyway.”

“If that was true, it would be my choice,” you said. 

He looked at you curiously. “You’d want that?”

This made you laugh and you shook your head playfully. “If I have RadAway, I should be okay, not a big deal. It’s just… tempting fate I suppose. I’m gonna die at some point, why not go out a way I want to?” You teased him as your hand was placed gently against his chest. 

“You’re insane,” the Ghoul huffed with a few shakes of his head. “But… I won’t lie, I kinda like it,” he hummed and ruffled your hair playfully. 

This just made you laugh and tighten your grip on him, and you felt content despite everything that happened prior to this. “So, you’re not mad?”

“Mad? Well, now I wouldn’t go that far, maybe a little pissed off you didn’t think it was worth mentionin’ to me,” the Ghoul said matter-of-factly. “But I ain’t mad, just happy you’re okay. Don’t do that shit again, though.” “I promise, I won’t,” you said as you made a gesture across your chest. “Guess I’ll just have to grab a bag every time I see one.”

He looked over at you curiously, smiling that typical cocky smile he always wore, but he didn’t take the bait just yet. “Oh? Plannin’ on needin’ a supply of RadAway?” He wondered.

Your face flushed and felt warm as you reached over and stretched your arm out, grabbing one of the half-full IV bags, and then your gaze turned back to his. “If we’re planning on continuing whatever this is, I can’t be caught off guard again.”

The Ghoul’s eyes glimmered with mischievousness, staring at you with surprise. “You wanna continue this?”

This caused you to scoff and you looked up at him with a playful expression. “Of course? Why wouldn’t I? Went through all this trouble and you think I’m just gonna call it off, then you’re-” 

The Ghoul placed his hand on the back of your head, pulled you closer toward him, and silenced you with his lips. It lasted for a brief moment, but it was all he needed to assure you that he was still in this, and he may have threatened you to keep it quiet before, there was almost a silent understanding that hung in the air. You would keep your word though, but for now, it was just the both of you at this moment while you climbed into his lap.

He just scoffed and watched your nude form sit atop him. “Whatcha doin’ there, Bunny?” It was only meant as playful, he would never dream of pushing you away like this, he craved you more than you realized, the taste of you was divine, too. 

Your hands wrapped around his neck, pulling him in closer toward you. “I wanna show you how thankful I am you saved me.”

His eyes softened and allowed his hands to slowly slide down the curves and dips of your hips, smiling wide to himself as he watched you with great interest. “Guess I’ll have to save you more often, then.” 

[winedarkthoughts]

house of addams (3)

— 🌖 pairing: ot7 x fem.reader

— 🕷️ genre: mystery, angst + fluff + smut

— 🗝️ word count: 4k

— 🍄 summary: the coroner of Farrow's End finally invites you into his kingdom, and you can feel more than one set of watching eyes as you continue your investigation.

— ☕ content warnings: coroner!taehyung, assistant!jungkook, mentions of murder/death/suicide

— 🕸️ a/n: meeting more of the boys!!

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chpt. 3: into the morgue

"Have her come in," Taehyung says over dinner.

There's a collective clang as several sets of silverware are put down.

"I don't know if that's a good idea, hyung," Jungkook replies. He's nervous around you, especially because you can see more than you let on.

"We're going to have to eventually," Namjoon adds, and Jimin sends him a mischievous, knowing look. He knows how Joon likes to watch you in the bookshop, offering his assistance at his earliest convenience, asking if you need help finding anything specific.

"It's obvious she was hired by the mayor," Yoongi says. "Though, I'm not entirely sure why."

They all know that Mayor Summerbee runs in some of the same circles that they do, but they wonder if you're aware of that fact too. How much did she tell you?

"At the very least, it'll tell us what she already knows," Yoongi says.

"And if she scares easily," Taehyung adds, suppressing a smirk.

What kind of private investigator are you? Are you motivated by self interests? Are you just here to get the job done, bare minimum? Or are you the morbidly curious type? The kind that can't stop until a mystery is solved, even if it leads you to dangerous places.

Yoongi and Namjoon already have a guess at which type you are.

"She has some kind of sight," Jungkook says, biting his nails. The real question is how sharp is that sight?

"I don't think she knows that she has it," Jin pipes in.

They exchange glances, thinking.

"Well," Hoseok says, and they all turn to look at him. "I suppose we'll just have to test it."

september 27, 2004

You've seen your fair share of coroners. Good ones, even excellent ones, and the ones who never should've been appointed to the job in the first place. Most people aren't aware that there is no national standard for coroners, some don't even have medical training.

You remember a case not too long ago when a family mourning the loss of their son hired you to investigate the circumstances of his death, which was ruled "accidental" at the time. The coroner had not had any prior forensic training, he was an OBGYN turned politician. Elected by the small-town voters (nearly 80% of coroners in the U.S. are elected, by the way), he was cushy with the local police force.

And being your naturally suspicious self, or maybe it's a side effect of your job, you pressed for a second autopsy by an examiner actually worth his salt.

The external examination alone proved that it was far from accidental. His wounds suggested severe beating, and his cause of death was suffocation from being choked, homicide not accident.

Further investigation revealed police brutality. You pushed and pushed and pushed, and after being enough of a pain in the ass (and threatening several lawsuits), they finally convicted the officers responsible.

The family still sends you a Christmas card every year, and it more than makes up for being a pain in the ass for living.

So yeah, you don't trust coroners, or their reports, until you get the chance to evaluate their level of competence for yourself. And the fact that the coroner of Farrow's End has been so resistant to your attempts to contact him doesn't bode well.

But today, the Monday following your little expedition up to the Addam's House, he's finally available to see you. Last night you received a call at around midnight, seemingly from the same young man you saw on the other side of the gate the other day.

Of course you were awake, but you wondered why the coroner's office would be up and running at such an hour. Maybe a late night emergency autopsy? It wasn't unheard of, sometimes a Sheriff will request an autopsy to be completed as soon as possible when the press are particularly bothersome and the cause of death is unclear.

You didn't get the chance to ask, because the man started rattling off about how the coroner would be able to see you tomorrow morning, and he advised that you bring any notes you might have.

Good sign, it suggests that the coroner is willing to work with you.

It's early, maybe a little too early. The fog is blanket-thick and the clouds are sprinkling down a fine mist of rain.

You take your car as far as the rocky dirt road allows, park it at the base of the hill, and trudge on through the mud, the umbrella over your head immediately collecting dew.

You reach the gate, closed like last time. When you reach for it, you're expecting to find it locked, but just as your fingers are about to touch the cold metal, the gate swings open with a long creak.

You stand there for a moment, searching for some kind of mechanism that would make it open by itself, but you find nothing but old iron forged in intricate patterns.

Whatever, you've seen weirder. You slip through the parted gates and close them behind you.

Gigantic trees, pines it looks like, envelop the perimeter of the surrounding gates, with twisting, leafless trees in abundance nearer to the house, even though fall is just beginning to dawn and most leaves haven't even begun to change color yet.

You didn't notice it before, but these leafless trees are full of crows, black tufts perched on the reaching branches. No, crows and ravens. They call out as you pass by, and you get the odd sense that every single one of them is looking at you.

The cobblestone path leading up to the front door is overgrown with weeds. The exterior of the house, now that you can see it up close, is almost decrepit. The wood is rotting, the roof is sagging, the windows are dirty and smudged.

They rent this place out?

"Ma'am!" a voice calls out.

You search for the owner of the voice, finally finding it at the side of the house. It's the young man from the other day, peeking around a brick corner. He gestures you over and swiftly disappears again.

When you turn the corner, the man is standing by a double hatch door in the ground. Not a good sign for a supposed "morgue."

He seems to read as much on your face, because then he's saying, "I would take you down the elevator inside, but everyone is still asleep."

There's a childish nervousness in his voice, and it makes you send an uncharacteristic smile his way as you step through the door and down a spiral staircase.

Distracted, you don't see the curtains twitch, and the several faces in the windows above, watching.

The passage runs deep. You emerge in a wide hallway, lined with carved wooden walls and old portraits. The foundation is clearly old, but there are newly installed fluorescent lights that don't do the original craftsmanship justice.

"How old is this house?" you blurt out, and the young man can't suppress a high, boyish laugh.

"I'm not sure, around a century, I think," he says.

Wow hard to believe it's gone untouched for so long, you think as he leads you down the extensive hallway, passing several branching doorways.

Your eyes drink everything in, curious and scrutinous. Again, the man seems to read your mind.

"It might not look it, but we have a state of the art facility here," he begins.

"Crematorium," he gestures to one door. "Viewing room. Embalming room. Autopsy room. And the largest refrigeration unit in five counties."

This place is extensive, and the further you go, the cleaner and more modern it gets.

You notice that the man is wearing similar clothing from before: a large coat (broad shoulders) and big, thick boots. Black, laced up over his ankles it appears, it makes the thud of his footsteps echo against the walls.

You wonder if they are corpse-handling boots, or merely a style choice.

"Here's the office," he says, leading you into a small but cozy room fit with a cluttered desk and a few dusty but comfortable-looking armchairs.

"You can have a seat if you like," he says, nervousness creeping back into his voice.

You take him up on the offer, sinking into one of the armchairs despite the fact that you're a little damp from the rain. But judging by the state of the chairs, you doubt it would bother them.

It's then than you realize how chilly it is down here, in this basement maze tucked under an ancient house. Damn, you're so—

"Cold?" the man says suddenly. "I'm sorry, we get quite the chill down here. Would you like some coffee or tea?"

You perk up almost instantly.

"Coffee, please," you reply maybe a little too perkily, because it makes him smile at you, exposing those bunny teeth again. Very cute.

He disappears through another doorway, into some sort of kitchenette judging by the sounds coming from it (metal banging, water running, porcelain clanking).

You take a look around. The office walls are lined with framed photos and plaques all boasting the same name: Kim Taehyung. Bachelor of Science in Biology, Bachelor of Science in Chemistry, Master of Forensic Science, Embalmer's License, Medical Examiner Certification, Doctor of Medicine.

Got it, this man is learned. Good sign.

The young man returns with a silver tray in his hands. He sets it down on the ottoman between the two armchairs, grasping the black teapot and pouring fresh steaming coffee into a matching black teacup. You notice that the sugar cubes are in the shape of skulls and bones, and a part of you admires the dedication to the aesthetic.

You prepare your cup and sip greedily. The coffee is rich and strongly-brewed. Another good sign. It may not contribute to your investigation, but at least you can respect him as a person.

The young man takes the seat next to you and prepares his own cup.

For the first time since you arrived, you aren't distracted by your surroundings, and you're realizing just how strange this young man looks.

His skin is a dull shade of gray, with slight red blemishes and spots of dark purple flesh that look like deep bruises. His lips are simultaneously pale yet also tinged red, like there's blood inside his mouth. And his eyes, they look like—

The man seems to notice you staring at him, because he shifts uncomfortably in his chair and coughs awkwardly.

You blink, and his form seems to blur at the edges, becoming fuzzier and harder to latch onto. Maybe he has some sort of skin condition. But that wouldn't explain the feeling that something isn't quite right about him, something uncanny.

"I'll go see if Dr. Kim is ready for you," he says, practically sprinting out of his seat and out of the room. You hear his footsteps pounding through the halls, then hushed voices.

You being you, the debate over whether to slip through the hall to eavesdrop on their conversation does cross your mind. But you figured that even with your silent feet, they would probably still hear you rustling around in the quiet of the morgue.

A few moments later, and you hear one set of footsteps returning to the office. The young man pops his head into the doorway.

"He'll see you now," he says, vanishing just as fast. The way he appears and disappears like a ghost is starting to give you whiplash.

You follow him down the hall, entering a fluorescent-lit room fit with chrome features. The walls are lined with little doors, drawer openings, and there are several gurneys scattered throughout the room. The chill is even stronger here, this must be part of that state of the art refrigeration system.

The man standing in the center of it all is wearing a white medical gown and black latex gloves. He looks up as you enter, and—

Oh. He's young, startlingly young, early thirties max. His skin is golden tan over strong, handsome features. Dark tiger eyes, sharp and perceptive. The only indicator of his age is several tendrils of silver hair growing from the crown of his head.

"Good morning," he greets in a deep, charming voice. "Miss ______?"

"Yes, Dr. Kim?" you reply, holding out a hand.

"Just Taehyung, please," he says, taking off his gloves to shake your hand firmly, and jesus his hands are large and very pretty.

Ah, so he's not a pretentious asshole who insists on being addressed as "doctor" constantly. Another good sign. Though, judging from his extensive education, in this case it would be justified.

"I'm so sorry we couldn't see you sooner. It can get quite busy with just the two of us down here," Taehyung says.

You can't help but take another glance around the room. Only two people running this whole facility?

"I understand that you're working with the mayor?" Taehyung inquires, his casual voice good at hiding his burning curiosity.

You, in turn, are good at hiding the slight suspicion from hearing the mayor mentioned yet again. You're not sure who you're suspicious of though, him or the mayor herself.

"Yes, I was hoping I could get copies of the autopsy reports for Michael Bradley, Jarvis Laplan, and Sharon Mason."

You say it matter-of-factly, curious if they will bend at the slight flex of authority in your voice. Or, if being associated with the mayor yields certain results.

The two of them glance at each other.

"Access to Laplan and Mason aren't a problem, but Mary Bradley has requested that no further information on her husband's death be released," Dr. Kim replies, cool as a cucumber.

Your eyes widen just a bit, unable to hide your surprise. Wait...what? He would just give you the reports for Laplan and Mason, just like that? No request for credentials? No questions asked?

Truth be told, you've never gotten hold of an autopsy report after the first ask. You've always had to jump through hoops to get the right permissions and authorizations, as is the case for private investigators since they are not real police. And rightly so, the fine details of people's violent deaths is not something to be made light of, in your opinion.

Clearly your confusion is evident on your face, because then Taehyung is saying, "Laplan's wife and Sharon Mason's parents are quite eager for further investigation."

Ah, so they suspect something unusual too. Hopefully they'll be more than willing for an interview.

"And Bradley...?" your voice trails off with the question.

Taehyung furrows his brows like he isn't sure how exactly to put it.

"Mrs. Bradley has had a bad experience with the press," is all he says.

You can feel your eyebrow raise.

"Is she still a suspect?" you ask, deadpan.

Taehyung is quick to correct himself.

"No, god no!" he says, eyes wide and head shaking. "His death was purely accidental, a tragedy that could've been avoided."

Your attention catches on that last part like a snagged thread on a nailhead.

"Oh? Why do you say that?" you ask, unconsciously taking a step forward.

Jungkook, who's silently watching the whole exchange, can't help but think it makes you look predatory, a hunter locked onto their target with frightening accuracy.

But Dr. Kim doesn't bend. He tilts his head ever so slightly as the corner of his mouth curves up, like he respects your drive.

"Well, Michael Bradley exhibited signs of extreme mental distress, many of them suggestive of suicide."

"But you don't think it was suicide, do you?" you say, before you can help it really, because your mind is running a hundred miles a minute right now.

Jungkook can sense it too, his eyes Bambi-wide and watching in fascination as the cogs turn in your analytical brain.

"No, I don't." It comes from Taehyung's mouth like a sigh. You don't see it (Jungkook does), but he's impressed.

"That's all I can say really," Taehyung says suddenly, sounding apologetic. "You'll have to speak with Mrs. Bradley about getting access, but talking about her husband is painful for her. And she's been through enough."

He cares about people, the ones he works on are not just bodies to him. Very good sign. You're coming to the conclusion than Dr. Kim is definitely a coroner worth his salt.

"I'll be sure to proceed delicately, then," you reply softly. You're trying to say it back. I care about these victims, this isn't just a case to me. Everyone has a story.

He seems to get it, nodding his head with a gentle smile. Something very small, almost ghostly, clicks between you.

Jungkook observes it all in a slight state of awe. He can already tell that the rest of them, his "family," are going to like you.

Taehyung gives you the copies of the autopsy reports, a sizable stack of folders and papers and photos. He even gives you a copy of the autopsy transcript.

You realize that he was prepared to give you this information before you even got here. Either Mayor Summerbee is a very persuasive person, or Dr. Kim is eager to work with you. Maybe both.

Your point is proven seconds later when Taehyung hands you a business card (with his personal number scrawled on the back), as he tells you that you're free to contact him with any questions you might have.

You profess your thanks with an armful of documents, making a point to shake Dr. Kim's and Jungkook's hand firmly.

Jungkook leads you back, his boots softly thudding with every step, and you can feel Taehyung's eyes on your back as you walk through down the long hallway.

Jungkook is kind. He offers to help you with the massive stack of documents in your arms, but you politely refuse. You've got liquid gold in your possession.

He holds the gate open for you, even offering to walk you to your car, but again, you decline and thank him for his offer.

The gate shuts behind you with a resonate clang. As you turn away from the house to begin the trek down the muddy hill, you feel an odd sensation, like tingling insects down your back.

Looking over your shoulder, you see the curtains of several windows suddenly fall back into place. Someone, several someone's, are watching you.

You can't find it in you to be creeped out, though. Something about this house, despite its run-down appearance, is welcoming. Beckoning, even.

It's dark and old and practically falling apart, but many things that you love also happen to have those same traits.

A slight smile tugs at your lips as you turn and make your way down the path. You'll have to find out more about this place.

"Again. She saw through my glamour again," Jungkook announces to the room, sounding slightly defeated.

"Don't worry, Kook. It's a solid spell, I checked it myself," Yoongi replies as he waters one of the endless houseplants adorning their home. Thanks to Yoongi himself, of course.

"She saw through mine too," Taehyung says, resolute. He's staring at the black and white checkered floor, deep in thought.

Everyone looks up at that.

"That proves it then," Namjoon says. "She has a heightened degree of sight."

"I wanna know why though," Yoongi interrupts in a sudden bout of passion. "She's human. Why is she able to see everything?"

"Not the house though," Jungkook blurts out. "The glamour on the house held up."

"Of course it did, the house magick is stronger than any of us," Jin quips from the kitchen, standing over a sizzling stove.

"Lots of humans have the sight," Jimin says lazily, sprawled out in one of the lounge chairs.

"Yeah, but it's the type of humans who turn it into a cheap gimmick," Jungkook replies, pacing around the room now.

Taehyung crosses the distance between them in a few strides, putting a large hand on Jungkook's shoulder. The younger man looks up at him, then lets out a breath and returns the smile.

"You're safe, Kook," Taehyung says softly. "No one's gonna put up a fuss."

Jimin chuckles. "She might."

Taehyung throws a scolding glance over his shoulder. "A real fuss, I mean. Everything's been kept under wraps so far."

"And she's not a phony, or a leech. The mayor made sure of that," Yoongi says.

"In any case," Jin begins, an authoritative edge to his voice. "Hoseok said to keep an eye on her, so that's just what we'll do."

september 28, 2004

You may be a damn good investigator, but you're no med student. So the next day you set out to the bookstore, determined to understand every last term and phrase in the autopsy reports.

The same man is behind the desk, but this time he's bent over a typewriter, clacking away. You can't help but observe him for a moment, watching as his dark eyes dart over the page, the way his glasses rest at the edge of his nose like a wizened old man.

"Welcome in," he calls out at the chime of the bell on the door, like an instinct.

You take a few steps into the ever-crowded space, your eyes shifting over all the things you missed the last time you were here. Because that's what kind of place this is, somewhere you could go a hundred times and find something new each visit. Places like this are quite dear to you.

You're about to examine a shelf full of perfectly preserved beetles, when you sense the man look up at you.

"Oh," he says, like he's pleasantly surprised. "It's you."

And you would be lying if you said it didn't make your gut feel something warm squirming inside it.

"Need help finding anything?" he asks, like he has every time you've visited this place.

"Yes, please," you reply, barely hiding your smile.

He leads you through the maze of shelves like it's a map of his own brain. Several times you have to hurry to catch up to him in his excitement.

Soon your arms are occupied by an impressive stack. Anatomy, general medical knowledge, crime scene identification, even a few textbooks on post-mortem examinations.

To you, it's more liquid gold. You profess your thanks to the bookshop keeper, dropping a generous tip into the jar when you go to checkout. Again, the books are almost too reasonably priced. Not that it matters, since research purchases are an easy business expense ride-off.

Just as you turn to leave, the man clears his throat awkwardly, like he's building himself up to speak.

"There's plenty of places to sit here," he almost blurts out. "Lots of cozy nooks. Perfect for...research."

You pause at the door to glance back at him. You find him watching you closely, his expression somewhere between innocently curious and suggestive of hidden knowledge on his part.

"I'll keep that in mind," you reply, a little teasing lilt to your voice. Because clearly he enjoys your company too.

Then you turn on your heel and let the door swing shut behind you, leaving him wanting more.

a/n: thanks so much for reading!! i would combust with joy if you'd tell me any of your thoughts :D

NEXT UPDATE: 05/25/24