#bolt watches psych

[boltlightning]

i think one of the biggest problems about psych's later seasons was that juliet stopped being weird and started being responsible. i love when she was weird and intense and off-putting enough to make lassiter flinch. she and shawn should've been extremely weird together at the club and made everyone uncomfortable with the places their minds went. you agree

[demusewriter]

I Loved You Too Early

Summary: You've been admiring the captain of the prominent football team in your school, whom you secretly admiring from afar. You thought he was out of your reach until you saw him studying in your brother's room. Genre: brother's best friend, slow-burn Pairing: Non-idol! Jungwon x Fem! Reader Word count: Part I: 11,432k; Part II: 14,297k (Overall: 26,179k) Chapters: 10 (Completed) (divided in two parts) Warnings: This is heavily inspired by the Chinese drama 'Hidden Love' so there's a big resemblance, age gap (5 years difference), unrequited love, a little bit of sprinkle of angst, fluff, time skip, just a teeny-weeny bit of fist fighting (but not too much!), and not solid proof-read because its too long (╥﹏╥). Author's Note: I apologize for being gone for a year (⭑•͈ 𓎟 •͈ ). While working on this, I suddenly became so busy with college that I decided to put it on hold. Now that I've graduated and started working in corporate, my responsibilities have doubled or even tripled, and I completely forgot to continue this. (◞‸ ◟) However, in the past few days, I've been motivated to finally finish it. ٩(^ᗜ^ )و ´- This was supposed to be in a longer format, but I decided to divide it into two parts so you can take breaks without missing where you left off. Thank you all for patiently waiting! I hope you'll enjoy this one as well. Enjoy!

PART I PART II

Chapter One

You don't know exactly when your dull world was invaded by an unexpected rhythm that made your whole world sway in unending swirling motions.

When did your pulse start to waltz to the beat of an unknown tune, or when did your heart seem to pound louder than before, like a drum heralding the arrival of a marching band.

At first, these sensations frighten you, as you thought you were experiencing early symptoms of heart disease since your heart was not beating normally.

But this unfamiliar heartbeat, the strong and powerful thump of your heart, doesn't hurt; instead, it is sweet, pleasant, and almost comforting.

Then it hit you like an epiphany.

The erratic rhythm of your heart wasn't a medical heart disease at all, but an emotional one.

The strange heartbeat wasn't a signal of a heart condition—it was the throbbing pulse of attraction, of affection, of something you had never felt before:

Love.

A feeling that is often described as an intense, affectionate concern for another individual or object. It is one of humanity's most profound emotions, embedded in both our psyche and our essence.

They said that love's profound complexity underscores its paradoxical nature; you have to—

'pay attention'

—pay attention to recognize it as an emotion that deserves—

'Y/N'

—respect, care and openne—

"Nishimura Y/N!"

Your eyes immediately snapped open when you heard the scream of your name, making you bolt upright from your productive daydreaming.

You quickly blink your eyes to adjust your vision from the blurriness brought on by your deep slumber.

As you tried to shake off the sleepiness, your eyes settled on the person standing in front of the blackboard, brows furrowed, glaring at you with irritation.

You immediately stood up like a soldier from your chair, making a loud screeching noise from the abrupt motion.

"You're not paying attention in my class, Ms. Y/N." Your math teacher pointed out the obvious when she got you caught slacking off in her subject.

Your face burned hotter than a thousand suns, and your ears tingled with embarrassment. The usual supportive wall of the classroom felt like it bows inward, ready to collapse on you.

"I-I'm sorry, Mrs. K-kim" You bowed as you stammered an apology, voice barely audible.

You kept your head down, feeling the sudden shame creep in your body when you saw everyone in the class watching you.

Their interest was now directed from the perplexing equations on the board to the scene unfolding at the back.

"I expect all of you to respect the time I put into preparing lessons and the class itself. If you have issues staying awake in my class, especially you, Ms. Nishimura," you flinched at the mention of your family name.

"I suggest you try to figure out the equation for resolving that issue before you start learning about algebra," she continued, her gaze firmly locked with yours while her face was void of any emotion.

The snickers from your classmates were almost as unbearable as the chasing glare from Mrs. Kim. She let out a disappointed sigh before deciding to continue the discussion.

You slowly sat back on your chair, still red with embarrassment, knowing that this unforgettable scene would become classroom lore, a tale that would inevitably follow you through the rest of your middle school year.

"Someone stayed up all night reading manga again." Chunso, one of your bestfriend, teases you after the math class ends.

"Is it my fault that her voice sounds like a lullaby?" You pouted while putting all your things in your bag.

Well, it's true.

Mrs. Kim, who had been teaching for thirty good years, had a voice with a subdued resonance, softer than silk yet harder than rock.

It was a perfect lullaby for you when the math equations emerged with her voice, creating a hypnotic sonata of numbers.

"Really?" He deadpanned. "You're going to blame her voice when your thick eyebags already speak for you that you haven't had enough sleep?" he playfully flicked your forehead, making you whine. "You're lucky she didn't put you in detention."

You continued to pursed your lips and decided not to comment on anything since it was really your fault for spending the rest of your night reading Shounen manga until dawn, leaving you only 4 hours of sleep.

And so you thought of sneakily using the time in math class to take a short nap, but that short snooze took you to dreamland, completely sweeping you off from reality.

Then you get caught.

If only the first letter in Chunso's last name is closer to yours, then there's a big chance he'll be your seatmate, which will help you prevent getting caught.

But you were so unlucky, as he was in the front row while you were in the last.

"Oh, what happened to her?" your other bestfriend, Eunhee, asked when she saw you sulking while clinging to Chunso's arm.

Unfortunately, she's not in the same class as you and Chunso, so you all just meet in the hallway every lunch break.

"Got caught sleeping." You hide your face behind Chunso's arm when you feel another wave of embarrassment hit you. You also expected a row of teasing words from her, but instead, you were embraced by a warm arm around your shoulder with a gentle rub on your arm.

"Did you get detention?" You looked up to her and shook your head in response.

"Then there's nothing to be worried about," she consoled, offering you a comforting smile that wipes your shame away.

You let go of Chunso's arm and cling your arms around her.

You wanted the rest of your high school journey to be quiet and unnoticed, your presence a mere ripple in the grand ocean of faces. But, as luck would have it, today you were scolded in front of 35 students.

"Aigoo, my little sister had a rough day." She coos while patting your head gently. Even though she was only four months older than you, she always considered you her younger sibling, as she never had one.

"Yah! Did you tease her about it?" Eunhee's soft voice was quickly replaced with a loud, arrogant one when her attention went back to Chunso.

"I didn't!" Chunso defended, his eyes suddenly finding the floor interesting as he tried to avoid the scrutinizing eyes of his friend.

You felt Eunhee's hand stop patting your head when she sensed that he was lying. Suddenly, Chunso yelped in pain. You looked up and saw her pulling the boy's poor hair.

You let out a giggle at your two friends acting like they were going to make each other bald by snatching each other's hair.

You take hold of their arms and gently remove their holds on both of their hair.

"It's okay, I'm good now," you assured them while softly fixing their messy hair. You might get teased about what happened earlier, but at least it leaves you with a lesson to learn to balance your time to avoid getting sleepy in class.

Your genuine smile partnered with the softness in your eyes removes their worries.

Ever since your friendship bloomed after you helped the two treat their wounds after the incident in your PE class in 4th grade, they have always stuck with you and considered you their precious little sister that they needed to protect.

So, the thought that you might get teased about the humiliating situation concerns them.

"Let's have lunch!" You excitedly exclaim and drag them with you as you cling to their arms.

Chunso and Eunhee shared a look while they let you yank them to the cafeteria, a silent agreement that your lunch is on them to brighten the rest of your day.

After the delightful lunch break that you have with your friends, which they surprise you with a once-a-month sale of bacon croque monsieur in the cafeteria along with a legendary chocolate mousse that makes you jump from happiness, you shortly parted ways with them as you are instructed by your teacher to get some books from the library that will be used in your class activity.

As you walk through the empty hallways, with the crisp pages and musty scent of the books accompanying you, something catches your peripheral vision.

Across the dusty path to your next class, you saw a spectacle unfolding on the bustling football field.

Captivated by the sudden burst of energy from the loud cheering, you rubbed your eyes and squinted through your glasses, pausing your hurried steps.

From your point in the hallway, you can see a group of people energetically playing football, and the scene looks like a small showdown.

You were never the biggest football fan, but you could at least appreciate the smooth precision of their passes.

With a further inspection from your spot, you could make out why a handful of spectators and students are basking in the afternoon sun when you see some of the players wearing the most famous navy blue and white striped jersey.

The group that clad themselves in that jersey were not just average students; they were the revered football team of your school.

The Nightball Team.

Ever since the establishment of the Nightball Team, it has consistently reigned supreme, its renown spreading far beyond the city.

The team is born out of a unique blend of teamwork, discipline, ambition, and a fierce drive for continuous development.

Making them act as an emblem representing not just the school but the principles its students stand for.

Every time the name of your school is mentioned, the Nightball Team is always the first thing that comes to everyone's mind.

That's how famous they are.

Amidst the navy blue and white-soaked jerseys, a certain person caught your attention. His physique was chiseled, his movements defying time as he led the team with an innate confidence that was as charming as it was stirring.

His jersey number 04, clung to his athletic body as he ran, skillfully dodging the opponents while carrying the ball that was tucked in his arm. Each tactical maneuver, every calculated move, displayed an enchanting dance of dominance and tenacity.

Then it happened—Nightball Team scored, erupting a loud cheer from the crowd.

As the dust settled around him, he looked up, his face breaking into a humble, triumphant grin that lit up his eyes.

It was as if the Earth rotated a little slower, distorted only by the increased pace of your heart.

Ah, now you remember when did your heart started to act out like a drum roll, jumping to the beat like a fool.

It was when he humbly acknowledged a job well done, his genuine joy for the game, and the soft crinkles around his eyes as he gently smiled while everyone praised him for scoring the goal.

That was the moment when you felt it for the first time—your stomach fluttering like there was a swarm of butterflies lodged in there, and your heart skipped a beat—for the first time, not for the new volume of Shounen Manga

but for someone else.

A peculiar sensation that only happens because of him.

Only because of him.

Chapter Two

As everyone in the class attempts to pay attention, the warm sunlight flowing through the classroom window did little to improve the class' concentration.

The monotone voice of your teacher talking about some dead men who died in a fight hundreds of years ago slowly puts everyone to sleep.

It was another ordinary Wednesday for the rest of the students, but for you, it was unimaginably extraordinary.

Before, there was no particular day that seemed special for you.

It was all just ordinary that you have to get through—well, except for Sunday, since that's the scheduled release for each chapter of the manga you are currently binge-reading.

However, after you learned that every Wednesday was the Nightball Team's practice in the field, it became a day that you always looked forward to.

The day when you can only see him.

It's unexplainable how his humble smile, which makes his dimples dig deeper into his natural rosy cheeks while his eyes form a crescent moon, can catch not only your attention but also your very young heart.

Maybe you were simply mesmerized by a man who wore the number 04 jersey, even though you didn't know his name.

You tried everything you could to know his name; you tried to dig through the old school newspapers that you sometimes kept to solve the sudoku part and re-read the sports section in the hope his name would be mentioned.

You also tried to go to your school's website, searching for him by using the Nightball Team's name in the search engine, which is always a hot topic on the website, but surprisingly, you were still left wondering what his name was.

The two options that you chose to know who is the mysterious jersey number 04 are the best choices that you could have since that's all you can do.

However, you still have one good option left.

The best option that will surely secure the chance of knowing his name.

But no matter how great this option was, you would rather get embarrassed again in the class than choosing it.

Asking your brother.

Your brother, Ni-ki Nishimura, who is part of the baseball team, is the best option to ask anything about sports, as he has been athletic and very knowledgeable in that area ever since you were both children.

He is a born sports prodigy.

Besides being part of the sports club at your school, he also has a huge number of friends, not only on his team but especially on the football team.

You don't know why, because the last time you checked, baseball and football are different sports, but your brother appears to be much closer to the members of the Nightball Team than his.

He really is the best choice to finally name the one you are admiring if he is not only a pain in the ass.

Despite your family's crowning him a prodigy and naturally talented, he is always the annoying and bloody irritating brother in your eyes.

He will literally make fun of your desperate mission of knowing the name of a particular person on the football team.

Heck, he might give you the wrong name just for fun.

However, that is not the worst thing that might happen if you ask him something that will give him a hint that you have developed a sudden interest in someone, especially if that someone is the opposite gender from you.

He will explode.

Your brother, who is five years older than you, has the tendency to become very protective when it comes to you.

He might be an obnoxious and nosy brother, but he has a soft spot for you that he cannot admit.

He will do everything to protect you, especially your heart, from men.

Therefore, if he finds out that you are growing admiration for someone, especially in the Nightball Team, he will literally ban you from going to the football field.

You sigh as you scribble his jersey number in your notebook while the boring class continues.

The bell signaling the end of the class of the day rang, making your mood reach the ceiling of happiness. The usual fidgeting in your seat to the rhythm of the clock turned into a wild scramble as you packed up your textbooks and pencil case into your bag.

You rush out of the classroom with thoughts of finally watching a football practice occupying your mind.

But before you could fully get out of the room, you felt a tug on your bag forcefully stop you in your tracks.

"What's with the rush?" Chunso asked still holding your bag.

"I-I'm going to the l-library!" You exclaim as you stumble over your words. Your friend's eyes immediately narrowed into slits when he sense you are making excuses.

"What will you do there?" he interrogates, as it was unusual for you to go to the library after class since you were always eager to go back home to spend the rest of your day reading manga.

"To study, o-of course," you said, forcing a smile in the hopes he would buy your alibi. However, it just proved his suspicion that you are hiding some information that you don't want him to know.

"Hmm." Your smile slowly faded when you realized he didn't believe you. You sigh in defeat.

"I promise that I'm not doing anything bad." You raised your pinky at him as an assurance to ease his worries.

Chunso was still observing you, looking for any hint of lying. He then let out a sigh, seeing the sincere look behind your words.

"You promise to message me and Eunhee when you get home," he said, raising his pinky. A big smile made its way into your face, brightening your mood.

Even though Chunso is not entirely convinced to let you go since you didn't tell him the real reason why you don't want to go home yet, he still trusts you that you're not doing anything behind their back that will make them worried.

You tightly cling your pinky to his, sealing it with both of your thumbs touching.

"I promise!"

After saying goodbye to Chunso, you immediately skip your way to the football field with so much giddiness. Each step you take intensifies your excitement as you are finally able to watch the practice match of the Nightball Team without using the view from the hallway.

You spot an empty seat that is secluded from the rest of the bleachers, although it is far away from the field where the players play, it is still enough for you to cheerfully cheer for your jersey number 04 without being noticed.

The crowd suddenly screamed with excitement when the players of the Nightball team showed up on the field. Your eyes started to scan the players, finding the specific person who always filled your sketchbook and slowly became your favorite muse.

It was as if your world had suddenly slipped into slow motion, and all the noises were muted when you saw him walking with confidence in the field—everything but him and his bright smile faded away.

You held your chest when you felt your heart skip again in a beat that only he could make.

Each time he ran across the field, swinging the ball with finesse, you would do a small victory dance in your heart. You watched every move, every goal, every mistake he made, and still supported him while your hand was busy sketching every movement he made and leaving small comments of amazement beside your sketch.

You would also offer whispers of encouragement, muffled applause, and silent woohoo with your heart thumped in silent cheer.

As the sun went down and the practice match ended, you found a sense of fulfillment you had rarely felt before. You hadn't elbowed your way through the fanatic crowd or screamed your lungs out, but something told you that you cheered the loudest.

It feels like you were bewitched by his enchanting display of professionalism and respect for the game, that you always find yourself in the same seat every week, watching him with full admiration in your eyes.

Your heart fluttered as you headed home while reminiscing the practice match you watched earlier, already dreaming of the next Wednesday when you could watch your jersey number 04 playing on the field again.

"Practice match?" Your mom spoke once you entered the house.

She's the only one who knows that you always watch the football practice, as you can never lie to her. Somehow it makes you guilty because your mom thought you were just growing a fascination with that sport, not knowing you're only there for a certain person.

"Yep!" You sneakily grab a slice of fruit in a bowl that your mom passionately peeled and cut into pieces. "But I went to Eunhee's house to do our assignments."

The football match ended much earlier than usual; sometimes it takes two to three hours, but today they concluded the practice for an hour, giving you time to drop by Eunhee's house when she invited you and Chunso to do your homework there, although you three only ended up watching movies instead of doing it.

You were about to get another slice of fruit when your mother gently slapped your hand, stopping you from getting more.

"You're going to be full before you can get dinner. Go to your room to wash up and call your brother; we will have dinner in a minute." She ushered as you pouted and sulkingly went upstairs, making your mom shake her head at your sillyness.

Then she remembered something.

"Ah, bring down your brother's friend as well!!" she yelled from downstairs, muffling her voice in the process as you entered your room, making you not hear the rest of her words.

"Nii-san, we're going to eat" You called outside your brother's room, clad in your blue Cinnamoroll print pajamas after you wash up. 

"Riki-niisan!" You knock on his door repeatedly when he doesn't respond, making your cheeks puff in annoyance. 

"I'm going to your room if you don't come out," you threatened, knowing your brother doesn't like you setting foot in his room. 

You rolled your eyes and barged into his room, kicking the door open.

"Nii-chan! What's taking you so long!?" You screamed at the top of your lungs with both of your hands resting on your hips.

You expect to see him playing PlayStation while wearing his headphones, the reason he couldn't hear you calling because of the noises in the game, but instead, you are greeted with a familiar pair of Boba eyes staring at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, squinting your eyes in the process to get a better look at the person sitting on the chair, as you forgot to wear your glasses.

He's definitely not your brother, as his eyes were sharper, contrasting to the softer eyes of this person in front of you.

You take a step closer to see his face, which is still blurry in your vision.

On the other hand, the boy suddenly felt amused at how you tried to scrutinize him. He couldn't help but chuckle when you got even closer.

You were taken aback when he suddenly let out a soft laugh. His dimples appeared on his left cheek with his eyes turning to a crescent moon.

Your eyes slowly went wide when you finally got familiar with those traits that make your heart do summersaults.

You suddenly felt frozen in your position when it slowly registered to you, who were occupying the study table of your brother, surrounded by papers and textbooks that were neatly organized on top of the desk.

You stumbled aback.

How on earth did your nameless jersey number 4 end up in your brother's room?!

Chapter Three

When God decided to create you, he probably accidentally poured too much embarrassment into your basin of personality, or when heaven decided to shower humiliation, you caught all of it as it became a frequent situation that always happened to you.

What's worse is that it happens in front of a person for whom you are developing intense admiration!

You dove into your bed, your face buried deep in your pillow. You gave a mighty inhale and unleashed a deafening scream into its soft embrace while your feet kicked with frustration.

You can bear to get embarrassed again in front of your classmates while your raging teacher scolds you, but not in front of your jersey number 4!

Your first encounter with him wasn't imagined this way; in fact, you didn't have a plan to talk to or be involved with him because you only wanted to admire him from afar.

Still! You had expected to meet him more decently, not while scrutinizing him with squinted eyes in your printed pajamas!

God! You can't imagine how unpleasant you look with your eyes squinting to make your vision clearer with your nose crunching in the process!

"Y/n-chan" You suddenly stop your antics when you hear your brother calling you outside your room. You stay buried in your pillow waiting for him to speak again.

"I'm hungry. Let's go downstairs to eat." Normally, you would straight-up come out of your room and sprint down the stairs, racing your brother ahead to prevent him from getting most of the food that your mother had prepared.

But now, you just want to stay in your room and pray for it to disappear.

"I'm not hungry," you said with a tinge of lack of enthusiasm in your voice.

Although your voice is quite muffled by your pillow, your brother on the other side of the door can clearly sense that you're not in your usual mood.

His brows furrowed.

Ni-ki's sure that he heard you earlier screaming his name at the top of your lungs while he was in the shower, certainly ready to annoy him again. But now, you're acting like your energy suddenly got sucked out of your whole body.

"Really? Mom cooked Oyakodon." He made sure that you heard the last part, knowing that it was your favorite and that it would be hard for you to refuse not to eat. "If you don't come down at any moment, I'm going to eat all of it."

Ni-ki expected the door to burst open and you to rush down the stairs to prevent him from hogging all the meals for himself; however, he was greeted by a different response.

"Hmm, okay" Your muffled hum is his cue to storm inside your room.

"Okay, what's going on with you, brat?" he demandingly asked. Ni-ki might sound annoyed at your unusual antics, but in reality, he was worried and now started racking his head if he did something that made you upset.

He snatches the pillow where your head is buried when you don't reply to his question, making you groan and kick your feet in annoyance.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Ni-ki slightly cringed when his voice suddenly sounded soft, wishing you hadn't heard it.

He proceeded to touch your forehead, checking your temperature to see if you had gotten sick, to which you only whined and smacked his hand away. Your brother sighed.

"If you have no plan to eat, at least tell mom. She even made an effort to make a big serving of your favorite dish just for you."

Your body went still at what your brother softly said.

Since childhood, your parents have always reminded you of the importance of being grateful for all aspects of life, especially the food that graces your table.

Having been born and raised in Japan, you've been instilled with a deep reverence for food to express your appreciation for the hard work of the farmers and the dedication of those who prepare your meals.

Out of guilt, you found yourself sitting at the dining table savoring your favorite Oyakodon while trying to resist stealing glances at the person seated across from you, right beside your brother.

If it were any ordinary day, you'd likely be devouring your meal with gusto, prompting your mother's gentle reminders to slow down.

But today was different.

The presence of the boy who made your heart race like a runaway train transformed your mealtime into a royal feast, leaving your brother to cast perplexed glances your way, baffled by your another uncharacteristic behavior.

"Did you like the food, Y/n-chan?" your father asked when he also noticed that you weren't eating as usual. You wanted to scold your father for mentioning your name, as you felt all the eyes, including the adorable boba eyes, looking at you.

You wanted to say something, but you were afraid that when you spoke, his eyes would linger on you, making you feel another wave of shame. So, you nodded in response without lifting your head and continued looking at your food.

Your parents looked at each other with worry in their eyes, wondering what had happened to their precious, bubbly daughter.

You felt a hand gently rubbing against your back, making you look at your mother, who was beside you.

"Go finish your food so you can have a rest. I'm going to make you green tea later to help you feel better, hmm?" You felt your eyes slightly water as your mom gently cared for you.

Your guilt increased as they thought you were feeling under the weather when, in fact, you were just shy and embarrassed because your jersey no. 4 was on the same table as you.

"How about you, Jungwon? Did you like the food?" Your ears perked up as you looked in his direction when your mother called his name.

His name is Jungwon?

Your heart pounded in your chest, and a mix of excitement and giddiness coursed through your veins. The name resonated with you in a way you couldn't understand.

His name could be translated to "garden," a fitting name that perfectly describes the feeling you experience every time you see him.

Comfort.

"It always tastes good, Mrs. Nishimura. Thank you so much for the wonderful meal." He replied genuinely with a smile.

'Always? This isn't his first time here?' You unconsciously frowned.

Jungwon looked your way, making your eyes widen due to the unexpected eye contact. You quickly looked down at your plate to avoid his gaze, feeling your cheeks burn, with a lasting redness that stayed through the end of dinner.

You weren't sure whether you would be happy to return to your room and continue to privately revel in your embarrassment or disappointed that dinner had passed so quickly.

As you helped your mom with the dishes, you overheard Jungwon expressing his gratitude to your father for inviting him to dinner as they arranged the table.

A sign that he was about to leave.

"Can you send Jungwon to the door, Y/n-chan?" Your mother's request caught you slightly off guard. You had the urge to decline and come up with an excuse, but the guilt of lying to your mother again held you back.

Reluctantly, you found yourself nodding and accepting the request.

A sigh of relief washed over you when your brother also joined you in sending Jungwon off. However, your relief quickly faded when your brother jokingly rushed out the door, leaving Jungwon behind and you alone with him in the genkan as he put on his shoes.

As you stood by the front door, an awkward silence hung between the two of you. You avoided making eye contact, and as Jungwon prepared to leave, you muttered a shy goodbye.

Throughout dinner, Jungwon had been bothered by your quietness and avoidance of eye contact. It led him to believe that he had made you uncomfortable, especially after your encounter with him in Ni-ki's room that made you dash out of your brother's room.

Ni-ki's comment about you acting unusually and not being in the mood for dinner further supported his belief that he had made you uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable tonight," he softly said, his voice tinged with worry, making your brows furrowed in confusion.

"I'm sorry if I laughed earlier; I didn't mean it in a bad way," Jungwon continued as he scratched the back of his head awkwardly. He thought that his chuckles over your actions were the reason why you got uncomfortable.

Your heart sank when you realized that your actions during dinner had made him think that you were offended by him and that his presence made you uncomfortable.

You quickly shook your head, desperately wanting him to understand the truth. "No, no, there's nothing to apologize for! I assure you, you didn't make me uncomfortable. I'm just naturally shy."

Relief washed over his face as he let out a breath he seemed to have been holding. "Really? I thought I made you upset."

"Not at all. I just felt embarrassed because I didn't know Ni-chan had a guest, and I didn't greet them properly." You couldn't help but puff your cheeks when you felt another wave of shyness as you looked down at your fiddling fingers.

A smile crept onto Jungwon's face, making his eyes soften. "It's okay, I know you were just surprised. No need to get embarrassed."

A surge of warm feelings engulfed your heart when you heard his gentle reassurance. You really wanted to look at him, but you were afraid that he'd see the redness in your cheeks that reflected your true feelings for him.

Your thoughts were cut off when you saw his hand offered towards you. You try to swallow your fears and find a courage to slowly looked up from his hand to his face.

You could almost hear your heart pound with fervor, like a wild drumbeat in harmony with your emotions, when you saw him closely with a soft expression paired with a gentle smile, making his dimple make another appearance.

"Hello, I'm Yang Jungwon, your brother's friend." Your eyes almost welled up when you realized that he was making you forget the embarrassing first encounter by redoing it as if you had just met each other.

You softly smiled and took his hand in a handshake. You felt a sudden spark of electricity shroud your body because of the contact.

"I'm Nishimura Y/n, Riki-nii's sister." Jungwon's eyes formed into crescent moons when you accepted his gesture of starting over. Although he already knew a little about you because of your brother, it was still nice to finally meet his friend's sister whom the latter always talked about adorably.

"Nice meeting you, Y/n." He started shaking both of your hands as if sealing a deal, making you giggle.

"Nice meeting you too, Jungwon nii-san."

Chapter Four

You thought that your feelings for Jungwon wouldn't blossom any further, but you were proven wrong when you found yourself researching nutritious foods appropriate for a football player that can boost his energy during practice games, instead of focusing on your homework.

Never in your life did you imagine that there would be a day when it's your turn to give someone a gift to show your appreciation, just like your schoolmates in 6th grade used to do for their crushes—a gesture you often found cringy before.

Yet now, you're going to do it as well.

Football season is just around the corner, making the Nightball Team busier with their practice. Hence, you see this as an opportunity to support Jungwon by providing snacks and bottles of energy drinks anonymously.

You know how intensely athletes practice during the game season, as you've witnessed it to your brother.

To help their bodies keep up with the rigorous training, nutritious foods are very essential.

As you stroll around the convenience store with a basket in hand already full of nutritious foods and energy drinks, a colorful message cards and envelopes caught your eyes.

The intricate design of each card and envelopes make your eyes twinkle in delight.

You've been also a fan of stationery items, developing a fascination for collecting envelopes and colored papers that pave the way for another passion—creating a journal with these elegant items.

If not for manga, the excess in your allowance is spent on stationery items.

As you eye the items, a sudden thought crosses your mind, making your heart beat to a now familiar tune that you are slowly getting used to.

You nibble the side of your cheek, contemplating whether it would be worth it.

You close your eyes, slowly taking deep breaths and gathering the confidence to do it.

Now full of determination, you took the cards and envelopes and proceeded to the counter to check out the items.

Your entire night was spent carefully preparing small packages, filling them with nutritious snacks and energy drinks. Along these, you include heartfelt and motivational notes crafted on small cards that you've intricately designed.

The following morning, you found yourself navigating the empty hallway in an unusual early hour while clutching the gift in your trembling hands, your heart pounding with each step.

Reaching Jungwon's locker, you hesitated for a moment, your mind replaying scenarios of what could happen next.

Would someone appear out of nowhere? Would Jungwon catch a glimpse of you?

With a last scanned around the hallway to make sure no one is around, you took a deep breath, reassuring yourself that the early morning cloak of silence was on your side.

Swiftly, you slipped your gift along with the letter into his locker, your hands moving with a kind of precision that only nervous anticipation could bring.

As you put the gifts gently, you feel a rush of adrenaline, a mixture of satisfaction and nervous energy coursing through your veins.

With the deed done, you retraced your steps, leaving behind the token of your affection. The school began to stir with the arrival of students, and you blended seamlessly into the crowd, keeping your secret hidden behind a casual smile.

You wanted to wait and witness Jungwon's reaction to your gift, but fear taking ahead of you as you pondered the possibility that his response might not align with your expectations.

Ultimately, you chose not to proceed and continued on your way to class.

Later in the afternoon, you found yourself on the same bench you sat, watching the practice game just as you always done. The field was buzzing with energy as the players warmed up, their determination evident in every stride they took.

Amongst them, Jungwon stood out like a star.

As the game began, you found yourself entranced once again by Jungwon's performance. He darted across the field, effortlessly evading opponents with his nimble footwork. His passes were precise and his shots were powerful.

He commanded the field with an air of confidence that made your heart swell with pride.

His performance today was exceptionally good compared to the previous practice games. Not that he wasn't good before—he truly was—but today, it felt like he was in his zone.

Every move he made was so powerful. You couldn't help but wonder if the pressure of the upcoming football season was driving him to new heights.

However, it wasn't just Jungwon's skill that impressed you; it was the pure sheer joy he exude while playing that you always like to see.

His face lit up with a radiant smile every time he made a good play or celebrated a victory. It was clear the football was more than just a game to him; it was a passion that ignited and fueled his determination.

A soft and gentle smile made its way to your face as you held your hands close to your chest, feeling the crazy beat of your heart as you admired Jungwon from afar.

A whistle blew across the field, signaling that the first half of the practice game had just ended, making the players come back to the dugout to take a break. As the players made their way, your eyes only remained and followed Jungwon.

As he talked to one of the players, you saw him reach out for something among the water bottles and energy drinks. He twisted the cup and chugged its contents, making his Adam's apple bob with every gulp. The afternoon sun struck his skin, making it glow like honey and accentuating his chiseled jaw.

You catch your breath in a small gasp, not because of how attractive he looks but because the bottle he is holding is slowly becoming familiar.

It's the energy drink that you brought for him!

You know that it was yours because you made sure that the energy drink that you brought was different from the energy drink that they always drink every day, plus you can see the bright yellow sticker message that contained your motivational pun attached to the bottle!

You suddenly felt like you were not breathing when he noticed the sticker; his furrowed brows made you nervous as he read the message. You almost wanted to leave the field, thinking he didn't like what was written there, when all of a sudden he burst into laughter, making the other players look his way.

His teammates wanted to see what made him laugh, but Jungwon held the bottle close to his chest and refused to let anybody know.

Your cheeks suddenly flamed with redness; you don't know if it was from embarrassment or because of the overwhelming feeling of seeing his positive reaction to your motivational pun.

Jungwon looked at the sticker on the bottle once again and let out a chuckle while shaking his head in amusement. His smile and bright eyes didn't leave until the end of the practice game, making you feel a new sense of fulfillment knowing the small act of affection had reached him.

You guess the "Kick some Asparag-ass

(૭ ｡•̀ ᵕ •́｡ )૭" somehow made his day.

Seeing Jungwon's positive impact of your secret gesture fueled a newfound motivation deep within your soul.

Especially when you saw his soft smile upon discovering the rest of the gift you had left in his locker, a moment for which you had finally summoned the courage to witness his reaction.

Due to this, you can't help but ponder what else you could do—or another motivational pun to put— to bring him happiness and encouragement without revealing your true identity.

With each passing day, you continued to surprise Jungwon with small anonymous gifts, each carefully selected to brighten his practice session and show your support.

Noticing Jungwon excelled in his games and his skills shone even brighter with added encouragement, made your heart swell with pride each time you witnessed his growth, even though he remained unaware of your involvement.

You planned to spend your whole day today coming up with different ideas to keep Jungwon motivated, but since it was Sunday—meaning today was the scheduled release of a new chapter of the manga you were reading—you got distracted and ended up lying down lazily on the couch in the leaving room with an iPad hovering over your face.

You giggled when the supporting character thought that the protagonist was a love child of a known superhero in the story.

As you continued scrolling the pages, you heard the front door open.

Since the iPad completely covered your vision of the door, you didn't see who entered the house; you didn't mind and didn't bother to look who it was and continued reading, thinking it was only your brother since your dog, Bisco, immediately ran to the door with enthusiasm.

"Hey, make me some snacks." The voice of your irritating brother demanded—you guessed it right—it was your brother, which made your eyes immediately roll.

"Make your own," you grumbled, your eyes remaining on the screen.

"I'm going to study," he retorted, earning a scoff from you. 'Study my ass'

You remained unmoved, pretending not to hear him. However, your brother was relentless about getting you to make him snacks, resorting to tickling your foot.

You squirmed and kicked his hands away, still avoiding eye contact, thinking that ignoring him would make him leave you alone.

But the more you resisted, the more persistent your brother became.

Ni-ki decided to take it a step further and removed the socks you were wearing, continuing to tickle your bare foot.

You dramatically squirm around as if you were being possessed, earning a hearty laugh from your brother.

You got up and lodged a smack on your brother's arm when you had enough of his annoyance.

The sound of it resonated through the living room, proving how strong it was. You were ready to give him another one when you noticed another presence in the room.

Your fist hung mid-air, and your body froze as you saw Jungwon smiling at you.

"Hi, Y/n"

You immediately straightened your posture and quickly tucked your messy hair behind your ears.

"H-hello, Jungwon n-nii-san," you stammered while simply trying to fix your clothes, in which you are clad in your usual pajamas with pompompurin designs. You chew the side of your cheek.

Why is it that every time you look at your worst, Jungwon always shows up?

"Nii-san?" Your brother questioned, making you look at him. His brows furrowed like he couldn't believe what he had heard.

"We've been living here in South Korea for 5 years; it should be Oppa now."

Your fist suddenly feels itchy to punch your brother at the moment.

He knows that you're not yet comfortable using those honorifics because you're still adjusting to their culture; you're still slowly trying to fit in. 

Your fist has already collided with his arm; if not, your jersey no. 4 is not here.

"O-opp—" You gulp, looking down at your feet, trying your best to find the courage to say it. Wanting to put a good impression in front of the person you are admiring, you will try to say it.

"O-opp—"

"—ah"

"O-op—" 

"It's okay, Y/n" You immediately stopped when you heard a reassuring voice. You looked up, and your eyes immediately softened when you saw Jungwon looking at you with gentleness.

"I'm fine with Nii-san; you don't have to force yourself." You felt a warm glow of reassurance spread through your body, thawing the icy grip of fear that had taken hold of you.

"Nah, man. She can say i—" Before your brother could finish his words, Jungwon's fist already collided with Ni-ki's back, playfully smacking his friend.

"Let's have your sister do what makes her comfortable. Respect her decision, dude." Your brother quickly returns the punch to his friend, which only makes the latter laugh.

As Jungwon and Ni-ki were laughing and playfully bickering at each other, you stood there watching as if your world stood still, leaving you with the feeling of a crushing wave of warmth washing over you.

In the quiet corners of your heart, a warm ember began to glow.

It flickered gently at first, timidly reaching out to the cool, untouched spaces within.

Jungwon's gentle smile, the softness of his eyes, and his kindness made the ember grow, its flames dancing in harmony with the newfound rhythm of your heartbeat that you didn't know suddenly changed into something more.

'Uh, oh, you're falling in love'

The fluttering of your heart becomes more frequent and pronounced that every time Jungwon appears in your line of sight, you experience this peculiar feeling.

These little flutters seemed to build into a crescendo, filling your heart with a strange yet amazing feeling.

Every word that Jungwon says to you always shows how pure and kind his soul was, making the beat of your heart grow louder as if announcing to the cosmos the love that is blossoming within you.

Slowly, your heart was no longer fluttering; it was soaring.

'Oh no, you're falling in love'

You had always believed in love because of your parents, but you had never truly understood its power until now.

You realized that love was more than a fleeting connection; it was the awakening of your soul.

It was a feeling that washed over you like a gentle wave, leaving you breathless and craving for more.

As you look at Jungwon, a new, profound, warm sensation spreads through your chest, gradually seeping into every corner of your being.

It was a sensation of love, softening your edges and illuminating your soul.

It was a feeling that found solace in vulnerability and flourished in the light of trust.

'Oh, you're falling in love.'

Chapter Five

The newfound realization made your heart skip a beat and sent a rush of nervous energy through your veins.

You can't believe it, you have fallen in love.

With such a simple word, its complexities were unraveling before you, leaving you both exhilarated and terrified.

At a young age, you already found yourself entangled in a web of emotions that you had never encountered.

It was your first taste of this intoxicating elixir, and you were utterly unprepared for its effects.

With this newfound love came a wave of shyness that seemed to wash over you whenever you were in Jungwon's presence, making you tongue-tied like every word you wanted to say remained locked behind closed lips.

You couldn't even bring yourself to meet his gaze when you brought snacks to your brother's room while they were studying.

As you thought they were both studying.

Because upon handling their snack, you realized that only your brother was engrossed in his studies, while Jungwon was actively helping and guiding him, almost like a dedicated tutor.

This observation lingered in your thoughts, making you seek clarification from your mother about it.

"Oh, Jungwon?" Your mother started "his tutoring your brother on some of his subjects for weeks now." She continued while chopping some vegetables for dinner.

While this information seemed like a casual detail to your mother, for you, it was a revelation that left your eyes widening in shock.

How had you not noticed him doing this earlier, especially considering he had been tutoring your brother in his room for several days now?

What surprised you even more was how he managed to balance this commitment with the intensity of their practice games.

"But why? He's an athlete like Riki-nisan; wouldn't it be exhausting to do both?" Your curiosity compelled you to ask.

The chopping abruptly ceased. Your mother gently set down the knife, her gaze softening as she looked at you.

"You see, Jungwon has been struggling to pay off all of his school expenses—" You saw how the sad smile made its way to your mother's face.

"—despite working part-time, it hasn't been enough. Your brother offered financial assistance, but he always refused. Your brother was determined to help, so he proposed the idea of Jungwon tutoring your brother in subjects he was struggling with," your mother explained, continuing to chop vegetables as you listened attentively.

"That young boy is such a genuine friend to your brother. Despite his financial struggles, he consistently rejects any money from your brother's pocket. If only his mother hadn't fallen ill, he would have also declined your brother's offer."

The weight of the revelation made your heart sink.

While you admired Jungwon for his skills and charm, little did you know about the silent battles he faced. Yet, he remained a compassionate soul willing to endure hardships to support his family.

"So, if your friends are also struggling with their studies, let me know so we can recommend Jungwon to them, okay?" Your mother said with a hopeful smile on her face, also wanting to extend her help to her son's friend.

You nodded and agreed without hesitation, though deep down, a secret plan was forming in your mind.

You were the one who would be getting the tutoring sessions with Jungwon.

If Ni-ki was naturally a sports prodigy, you on the other hand were a naturally gifted student, excelling in all subjects effortlessly.

Despite being smart and not needing any help with your studies, you plan to take on the role of a struggling student to help Jungwon to support him financially.

With that plan, you were more determined to help Jungwon rather than get closer to him.

You were pacing back and forth, your heart pounding with anticipation. It was the day of your tutoring session with the person who only can make your heart do crazy act like this.

When you brought up the topic of needing a tutor during dinner, your parents were taken aback, nearly choking on their food.

It seemed incomprehensible to them that their academically successful daughter, particularly excelling in physics, would require assistance in any subject.

Fortunately, you are gifted an understanding parents who acknowledge that even bright students face challenges. Consequently, they graciously granted your request for a tutor, specifically Jungwon as your tutor in the subject where you usually excel the most—physics.

You will literally rot in hell for lying too much to your parents.

Back in your brother's room—which is the place you have requested to use for your tutor session—your mind swirling with thoughts of how the session would go.

You meticulously organized your study materials, ensuring they were arranged perfectly on your desk. You adjusted your hair, clothes, and everything in an attempt to look decent.

When the knock finally came at the door, your heart felt like leaped into your throat. You took a deep breath, trying to calm her racing thoughts, before answering it. There stood Jungwon, clad in a fresh fluffy gray hoodie with a shy smile playing on his lips.

"Hey, Y/n. How are you today?" He casually asks as he enters your brother's room, seemingly unaware of the effect he had on you.

"I-I'm g-good, thank y-you." You cleared your throat, trying to cover your stuttered response. You felt your face immediately flush from embarrassment.

Jungwon smiled gently, sensing your nervousness. "Great! Let's start our lesson then," he said, pulling out a chair for you. "Remember, there's no need to be nervous. We're here to learn together, and I'm here to help."

From his assurance, you felt again the familiar melody in your heart that you can slowly put into a song, and it swelled every time he spoke with kindness.

Whenever you feel embarrassed or in trouble speaking your mind, Jungwon always catches you with soothing words, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. It was as if he knew exactly what to say to make you feel validated and loved.

His kind words seemed to have a power of their own, melting away your doubts and worries.

It wasn't just the words, though. It was the way Jungwon said them, the gentle sincerity in his voice. His words were not empty promises or shallow compliments; they held a genuine warmth that touched your heart.

Each day, his kind words reaffirmed your belief that your heart made the right choice in loving him.

"I hear you were having trouble in advanced physics?" You sheepishly nodded, crossing your fingers under the table, invoking a protective power to mitigate the bad consequences that will come to you for lying too much.

"Well, it's not your fault for finding this subject challenging. Teaching this level of physics in 7th grade is a bit advanced for young minds. I only started learning it last year in the 11th grade," Jungwon said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Our school's curriculum isn't the best, is it?" he added with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, earning a giggle from you.

He smiled, sensing that you were getting more comfortable, and began to slowly proceed with tutoring you.

As the session went on, Jungwon always been patient with you, eager to make you comfortable around him and create an environment wherein you could truly "learn."

But you've got to admit, the tips he is providing to help you understand the concept better are much easier to grasp than the way your teacher teaches.

As you spent more time with Jungwon, diving into deeper topics week after week, your feelings for him grew stronger. The way he explained things made you admire and like him more.

In those quite study moments, he made the subject matter feel like a beautiful melody, resonating not just in your head but also in your heart.

Falling for Jungwon was like a slow waterfall, this gentle descent into a realm where every drop carried a piece of your heart, cascading softly into the pool of emotions that brought a sense of calmness to your soul.

As the weeks pass, not only your feelings blossom but also your friendship with Jungwon.

Jungwon is an easygoing person, conversations with him flowed like a gentle stream, unhurried and reassuring. 

Before you start to study, he will ask about how your day went, and he will also share his with you.

Whenever you take a break from the study session, he will offer an icebreaker, such as playing a little bit of brain games or letting you rumble about the manga you were reading while he listens attentively.

One of the things you always look forward to in your study sessions is his thoughtful gifts, given as a reward every time you ace the study exercises or tests and quizzes in physics.

Sometimes, he surprises you with snacks, sharing his favorite jelly, and there's that one thing you can't forget: gifting you the latest volume of the manga you were reading.

"Since you ace the exam last time," Jungwon declared with a mischievous glint in his eye, "I think my student deserves this reward." The corners of his lips curled into a playful smile, as he reached for his bag and pulled out a paper bag and handed it to you.

Curiosity piqued, you eagerly open the bag to reveal the latest volume of your favorite manga series.

Your eyes immediately widened in surprise, a delightful smile spreading across your face. "Jungwon nii-san, you remembered!" You exclaimed, flipping through the pages with excitement. " I can't believe you got this for me!"

Jungwon softly grinned, his own excitement mirrored in his eyes. "Of course, I remembered. You've been talking about this series non-stop, so I thought you'd appreciate having the next volume"

You couldn't count how many time you have been grateful for Jungwon's kindness, the kindness that always feels so warm and welcoming.

However, as you observed the way he interacted with others, you realized that his kindness and warmth were extended to all.

You're not as special to him as you thought.

You felt a bittersweet pang in your chest, acknowledging that he only saw you as his student, a friend, and nothing more.

Much worse, as his little sister.

In the bustling football stadium, under the warm glow of the stadium lights, you found yourself once again in your usual seat, holding your breath as the football game were in full swing. The players of Nightball team sprinted across the field, their feet grazing the perfectly manicured grass.

Suddenly, your heart skipped a beat as Jungwon miraculously spotted you amidst the crowd.

A wide smile spread across Jungwon's face, and he waved at you with unreserved excitement. Your heart fluttered, surprised that he had noticed your presence among the large supporters. You waved back, returning his infectious smile.

As the game continued, you couldn't help but feel a sense of connection with Jungwon, knowing that after all months of unwavering support for him, he was finally aware of it.

In a brief pause between play, Jungwon jog on your way to quickly thank you for cheering for him, as he talks to you, another talented football player, Jake, approached him, curiosity and amusement evident on is face.

He nudged him and teasingly asked, "Who's this girl you're waving at, man? Do we have a secret fan club now?"

Jungwon simply chuckled, "This is Ni-ki's little sister, Y/n." he look down at you with a softness in his eyes as he gently patted your head, "She's like my little sister too."

You felt a pang in your chest as disappointment washed over you, slowly realizing your position in Jungwon's life.

While your heart crazily beat of full affection for him, his was platonically calm for you.

Despite all of that, you swallowed the hurtful truth and softly smiled, accepting the role of being his only little sister.

From then on, you made a choice to embrace the only friendship you have with Jungwon without demanding more.

You continue to fill the pages of your heart with cherished moments, etching them with love and gratitude.

With each passing day, you learn the true essence of selflessness and acceptance.

Despite the unrequited love that lingered in the depths of your soul, you found solace in the knowledge that the friendship you shared with Jungwon was a treasure you could forever hold dear.

Although you acknowledge already the fact that your relationship with Jungwon will only stay as friends, it didn't stop you to continue sending him gifts and letters still anonymously.

You were happily skipping your way through the school hallway as the morning sun shone brightly, clutching yet again a beautifully wrapped gift along with a heartfelt letter of encouragement for his upcoming football game, and also discreetly thanking him for showing kindness and his help in tutoring you.

But as you approached Jungwon's locker, you noticed him standing there with his group of friends.

Startled, you quickly ducked behind a nearby row of lockers.

Seeing him still engrossed in conversation with his friends and seems like they have no plans to leave the lockers at any moment, you decided to retreat and come back later when they were gone.

With a small and hopeful smile, you turned around and began walking away. But just as you were about to go to your class, something caught your attention.

"Man, you remember the gift that Jungwon received last Friday?" an unfamiliar voice of a boy started, piquing your interest, especially since you knew you had gifted Jungwon that day.

"The design looks so damn childish like it was made by an elementary schooler for their art project." The boy snickered, "And all of the things, a freaking garden design mug as a gift?" he mockingly remarked with a chuckle, causing the others to burst into laughter.

You felt like someone poured a bucket of ice-cold water over your head when you overheard their conversations. It felt as though an icy hand wrapped itself around your heart, squeezing it with an unbearable heaviness.

You in fact, gifted him a mug with a garden design, thinking he will like it because it reminds you of him and his name upon seeing it on the store.

With tears slowly well up in your eyes, you look down at your gift, which is wrapped in Tamama design gift wrappers with a cute bow ribbon.

Well, maybe they were right, your choice of gifts was childish.

But you had put so much thought and effort into those gifts, believing that Jungwon would appreciate them. However, it seemed like your gesture had become the subject of ridicule.

You felt as if the world crumbling around you, your heart sinking even deeper as if it had shattered into countless fragments. The thought that Jungwon might be also laughing at your "childish" designs only added to the weight of despair.

Unable to face the humiliation, you quickly turned in your heels and retreated, your footsteps echoing the emptiness in your heart.

Unbeknownst to you, Jungwon, in fact, stood in silence, his usual smile faltered, a hint of offense flickering in his eyes.

"Hey, guys," he spoke up, his voice filled with a strength his friends never heard before. "That gift is special to me. It's different, sure, but it's unique. The person who gifted it to me probably has a reason for choosing a mug, and I appreciate it. It's the thought behind it that counts. So, please, show some respect."

His friends fell silent, stunned by the defense he had just given. Jungwon understood that his friends might not comprehend the deeper meaning behind someone's gift, but he couldn't let them belittle their efforts, especially since how those gifts consistently brightened his day.

You who are still unaware of Jungwon's defense, spent the rest of your day lost in your gloomy thoughts. Your heartache enveloped you like a tight cage, leaving you feeling isolated and alone.

You replayed the scene in your mind over and over, the sting of humiliation and embarrassment refused to subside.

You don't know how you will face Jungwon after all those words.

The idea of facing him, of looking into his eyes and pretending to be casual while those words in the back of your head kept stabbing you like a broken record was unbearable.

As you grappled with your own emotions, the glow of your phone screen caught your attention, announcing the arrival of a new message.

'Hi, Y/n! I might be a little bit late for our study session because of a team meeting ╥ ╥ , but I'll make sure to be there before 6:30 pm so we can have more time to study!'

'As an apology, I'll be bringing snacks~~'

The message from Jungwon illuminated your phone screen, and a mixture of conflicting emotions surged through you.

On the surface, the excitement of an incoming study session and the promise of snacks brought a fleeting smile to your face. However, deep within, a pang of heartache tugged at your insides.

The knot in your stomach tightened, and a lump formed in your throat. Jungwon's innocence, and his kindness, clashed violently with the echoes of humiliation and embarrassment that still pound within you.

The vivid memories of his friends' mockery haunted you, turning the joyous act of giving into a painful reminder of vulnerability.

With a heavy heart, you fabricated an excuse about feeling unwell and unable to attend the tutoring session that day.

It was a lie, one that marked the beginning of a pattern.

The tutor sessions turned into missed opportunities to see him, and the football games became distant scene you chose to avoid.

Jungwon, puzzled by your sudden change in behavior, continued to inquire about your well-being.

Each message from him tugged at your heart, but the walls you created held firm.

His concern was met with vague responses, masking the turmoil within you. The more he reached out, the deeper you delved into your cocoon of self-inflicted solitude.

The peak of this emotional turmoil came when Jungwon sensing your distance.

"Are you okay, Y/n?"

"Is there something wrong?"

"Are you mad at me?"

The lies you spun become more elaborate, the excuses more intricate. You assured him that everything is fine and your not mad at him, that you were just busy, that life had taken unexpected turns.

Jungwon, the patient soul he was, accepted your explanations with a grace that only deepened the ache in your chest.

When he extended an invitation to his high school graduation ceremony, offering you a ticket and a chance to be part of his celebration, you hesitated.

The battle within you raged—the desire to reconnect, to salvage what was left, clashed with the fear of facing the unspoken truths.

In the end, you declined, citing other commitments and responsibilities that seemed to multiply in your made-up reality.

You both slowly grew apart, especially as he moved to another city to pursue his dreams at a different university.

It was a bittersweet decision but for now, you resigned yourself to the knowledge that some chapters must end before new ones can begin.

And though your story with Jungwon may have concluded on a sour note, you refused to close the book entirely, holding on to the faint glimmer of hope that perhaps, someday, your path would cross once more.

©2024 Demuse Writer. All Right Reserved.

[kireijae]

confused! - ldh

a/n: i listened to pado and this is what came of it

warnings: minors who read this will be skinned. not full on smut but close enough. some angst but smutty fluff ending

—

you felt haechan get up beside you, pulling his warmth with him. you were laid in your bed, snuggled up in haechan's t-shirt from the night- or hours- before.

he had a schedule soon, you weren't quite sure what time it was, but you could hear him quietly ticking off his mental to-do list.

"okay, 15 minutes. i should shower," he mumbled, something he always did when he was rushing to work.

you heard the water turn on, and nearly fell asleep again to the rhythmic sound of it falling to the floor.

"yeah, mark, i'm at her place right now."

you weren't sure how long you'd slept for, most likely around 10 minutes, because haechan could still be heard, though he was outside your bedroom door now.

"i'd tell you some of the details later but we won't have time to talk by ourselves much right?" you mentally rolled your eyes. of course he would tell mark about your first night being (somewhat) intimate. you were taking it slow, so anything happening was exciting for the both of you. you didn't really blame him, you'd definitely call your best friend as soon as the sun came up and fill her in on your night.

"dude..." haechan trailed off into a sigh. "she had me confused."

'confused'? the words hit you like a block of ice. what had you done wrong? why didn't he say anything?

"yeah! i tried to look down and see what she was doing so i could get her to slow down or something– no, she wasn't looking at me! her eyes were closed! and she was moaning like crazy!"

your body chilled further, but your cheeks heated up to a searing temperature, the embarrassment flooding your senses. why had he not stopped you anyway if it was that bad?

"yeah, so i had to just hold on and pray, man," haechan laughed.

you felt tears spring to your eyes and your face grew hot. blood rushed through your ears and you didn't hear anything haechan said until he opened the door to your room.

"yeah, i'm on my way out now. see you," he whispered, grabbing something from on top of your dresser.

you heard him shuffle over to you and felt his lips press into your hair. you were glad for the lingering darkness, as it hid your saddened features from your boyfriend.

–

haechan texted you at 5pm asking if he could come over after his schedules and you begrudgingly agreed. he'd whined when you'd attempted to wiggle your way out of seeing him, so you submitted. it would be a good opportunity to talk about what you heard that morning.

you'd been awake enough at the time to know it wasn't just a bad dream, though you'd tried to convince yourself it had been while you ate breakfast.

you psyched yourself up to see him again. tried to get yourself a little script to recite to him when he got there, but when he was right in front of you, holding his exhaustion in his eyes and a to-go bag from your favourite restaurant, you felt all the conviction you had earlier leave you in a matter of seconds.

so, there you were watching the office with haechan curled around you on the couch. he was gently caressing your upper arm with his left hand.

"did you have a good day, baby?" he asked, turning his attention from the show to you.

you guessed then was your chance, "umh, no not really." and as soon as you said it, he bolted up, sitting cross legged to your left, holding your hand.

"what's wrong?" he asked, sparkling eyes digging into yours to find an answer. "tell me, baby."

you sighed, obviously your conviction was once again swiped away by the boy before you. why was he so sweet? and why was he so stupid?

he sat there, waiting for your answer patiently.

"i heard you this morning," you finally let out, "on the phone."

his brows furrowed under his dark fringe, "did i wake you up?"

you looked down and shook your head, too embarrassed to look at him.

"i just wish you'd have spoken to me first instead of telling mark," you nearly whispered, anxiety pushing your voice higher than it usually was.

"oh," he said in the midst of his realisation, "i'm so sorry, angel, i won't talk about our sex lives with anyone if you don't want me to. i should've made sure you were okay with it first, huh?"

he rubbed your arm, but you shook it off. "i don't mean that," you still didn't have the courage to look at him. you took a long pause before speaking, the lump in your throat evident in your voice, "i mean you should tell me if you don't like something i'm doing. i want to make you feel good, and i can't do that if you don't tell me if i'm doing something wrong. you know it was my first time doing anything like that."

haechan's features were back to holding his confusion, "what do you mean? i loved every second of it. and i wouldn't have told mark otherwise."

you scoffed, "donghyuck, i heard you tell him that you wanted to slow me down and that i confused you. you–"

"that's what you thought i meant?" he burst out.

"what else could that mean, donghyuck?" your eyelids dropped slightly, nonplussed.

"it means you were so good i couldn't think straight," he said, pushing his face closer to yours as if close proximity would get the point across easier.

"what?" you still didn't believe him, "then why'd you try to slow me down? and what about the holding on and praying or whatever?"

he got closer to you again, his demeanour changing slightly– a lustful aura overtaking him. "because you were so good i was gonna cum down your throat after 30 seconds, only god could help me then."

you gave him the best unimpressed look you could, what with him smirking at you the way he was. you didn't want to get your hopes up, he had to be kidding. "you lasted pretty long, hyuck."

"i'll say. 3 minutes feels like forever when you're trying not to cum the whole time," he countered, "and you know i'm not usually that fast."

he had you there. although you hadn't gone much further than make-out sessions with hyuck, you had experimented a little. you'd cum on haechan's lap a few times and each time he'd get two orgasms out of you before he'd even thought to reach into his sweats and finish himself off. and even then he'd make you ride his thigh for a while longer before he came.

"that wasn't the real thing though," you argued.

"you think i don't know what i'm doing baby?" he asked slyly as he pulled your legs over his thighs.

you shook your head teasingly. another lie. haechan was known for having plenty of experience and particularly for having insane stamina. it was one of the things that intimidated you about him when you'd first met. who would want to date a virgin when he had his pick of any girl he wanted?

it was likely your insecurities around your inexperience that led to you perceiving his words the way you did, but that was a thought for a later time.

"i guess i'll have to prove myself then, huh, baby?" he barely got the whole sentence out before he was kissing you, roughly, and pushing you back down on the sofa.

the heat in your cheeks you felt that morning was no match for the burning sensation his lips left behind as he trailed down your jaw to your neck. he nibbled and sucked on your pulse point to pull specks of red, blue and purple to the surface of your skin.

"you drive me crazy, you know that?" he commented, probably spurred on by the small sighs falling from your mouth.

"you were already crazy when i met you," you giggled, looking down at him through his fringe.

he bit you a little harder at that, and when you squealed, he laughed heartily.

hyuck continued to kiss your neck, eventually moving down to your collarbones and then looking up to you expectantly with his hands pulling at the hem of your shirt.

"can i take this off?"

a small nod, and your shirt was gone a second later. replaced by warm hands and soft lips, anywhere they could reach.

"i'm gonna eat you out, okay sweetness?" he spoke as he slid his hand along the inside of your thigh. "i'll show you what it's like to feel so good you can't think."

you smiled at him and nodded, all embarrassment and doubt already wizzing right out of your head at the nickname paired with the thought of what was to come. pun intended.

[saltylandland]

‘Who hasn’t jerked off while their family was fighting downstairs?’

I.E I loved Lisa Frankenstein and while I don’t want to see cole sprouse in a porno (cuz I really don’t lol) this scene would’ve slapped so this post and this poll is what decided this fic. Sorry if this is unreadable I mostly wrote it sleep deprived

Warnings: y’all heard of David being the hidden romantic, but are you prepared for somewhat romantic! Marko? (More like virgin, obsessed with the reader) Vibrator, somewhat voyeuristic? Also Marko can turn into a bat instead of a revamped corpse for the purposes of our story

Also go watch Lisa Frankenstein y’all it’s so good

As you walk through the door you feel your soul escaping you, floating around dizzyingly. Surely it’s finding its way to hell before your body follows it, not that you particularly believed in hell anyway.

Greeting you in the front foyer is your father and step sister, with varied states of worry. Lovingly contrasted by your numbness. You bring her into a hug, comforting her over her missing mother. With a sharp sting you feel the bat in your pocket bite you through your clothes.

With a hiss you jump out of the embrace “ow you little shit” rubbing near the spot where he’d bitten you mutter quietly. Your sister looks at you through her tears, “what?” You subconsciously hit your pocket as nerves rack through you. “I said you must be going through it, hah ha”

Your sister nods with a rueful smile “yeah, I think we’re going to make a police report, would you like to join us?” Your back straightens as you inch up the stairs away from her “oh, you know, I choose to believe that she will be here first thing in the morning, making a police report makes it feel real, ya know?” With a watery smile she pulls you back in for a hug before you bolt, blissfully unaware of her mother’s two killers in front of her. “Yeah, she’ll be home tomorrow, then we can all laugh together about the missing person report”

“Yeah, truely” and with that you leap up the stairs to your room.

Even with the distance between them you could still hear your father’s and panicked step sister talking. Slowly you close your door before leaving it open a crack as Marko jumps out of your pocket, swiftly changing into his human form as soon as he could. Buzzing about, he digs through your closet for pyjamas and you two get ready for bed. It feels oddly… domestic.

Marko gets to bed first, patting the space beside him as you slowly crawl into your place. You heave a tired sigh as the day sets in on you, as you watch Marko grab the ‘massager’, offering to ‘massage’ you for your troubles.

Looking at his eager face you wouldn’t have been able to even conceive the look of utter bloodthirst he had on as he ‘got rid of the evidence’. But looking at his expression now, you don’t feel anything you probably should feel isn’t present. You didn’t want to go to the psyche ward your ‘intuitive’ step mother wanted to send you too, and looking at the person who made that go away…

He’s still fiddling with the vibrator, waiting till you let him massage you. Reaching for it, you stiltedly lean over. “You know… it’s not a massager actually… actually it’s used for…” gesturing wildly a bit, you gently push the wand down to your upper thigh. You see his back straighten as he hesitates for a second on what to do.

Trailing it up your thigh your body does a full body shiver as you giggle from nerves. There were countless times you’ve used the vibratior yourself, but there’s something about the alien feeling of the wand exploring your body in someone else’s hand. Up and over your stomach gently it goes all the way to your neck and back. Just like how he’s done before with his normal massages. This time, his lips trail over the same areas, ghosting over your skin carefully. Devotedly.

Marko watches your reactions with rapid attention, as the wand starts to dip back down to the lower half of your body. It started agonisingly slow, but as your breath hitches, he picks up the pace with an eager grin. He’s so close to your pussy you hold yourself back from grabbing at his hand to pull him closer, until you suddenly hear from beyond the loud thrumming of your wand. Your step sister crying louder as she talks on the phone and- oh fuck

Marko presses the wand right on your mound, so close to your clit, yet still a bit clumsy. But with the prep beforehand to make you all hot and bothered, it feels heavenly. Shaking you go grab his hand to push it away but he holds steady, your voice pitching uncontrollably higher that you worry your family below can hear you. Marko shows no remorse nor any signs of stopping, not that you’d want him too.

Moving the wand around to find the best reaction you can give and once he finds your clit you give him quite a show. Half leaning on his chest your back arches as you moan. One hand on the pillows below you and the other taken captive by Marko’s other hand. Which he holds up to his mouth to kiss. A sweet gentlemanly action as he rubs the sex toy directly over your clit.

You still listen disconnectedly to your family downstairs as they talk on the phone, but that worry only heightens your high. With a final desperate gasp you cum in your pyjamas. The lights in the house flicker from the voltage your vibrator requires.

Basking in the afterglow of your orgasm, you listen to the sounds downstairs, your family have since finished the police report and dispersed to who knows where.

Fiddling with your clothes while you were distracted, Marko pressed the wand onto your bare skin. Looking at him quickly, you start to melt into his embrace once again.

[quietlyimplode]

ignite your bones

After the fall of General Dreykov, and the remnants of the Red Room still at large, Natasha first year at SHIELD is anything but healing. Labeled a traitor and a turncoat, Natasha tries to find her footing in a strange new world.

Whumptober 2024: Day 3 - I warned you

Warnings: brief discussion of child trafficking/single line mentioning red room torture

Word Count: 1.7k (gif not mine)

Summary: Natasha is blindsided by a debrief, made to talk of her past and justify her actions.

Masterlist

Whumptober Masterlist

.

The debrief room is different.

Clint looks to her in an apology as he leads her left instead of right, and stops at the door instead of following her in.

She balks at the change, halting her movements when she sees three men inside.

Looking back at Clint, a question on her lips, he just mouths he’s sorry, and nudges her inside.

She feels sick as the door bangs shut and locks.

She knows what three men in a room can do, and the advantage is not on her side.

Looking around for any weapon, all she has is the handcuffs on her wrists and maybe the long table.

The chair is bolted to the floor so that gives nothing by way of help. Maybe the fact that there’s three can work to her advantage instead of against.

She should never have trusted Clint.

He said he’d be here through it all.

He lied.

Anger and fear wells in her chest but she remains passive at the door.

“Sit,” the tallest of the three commands.

The three men stand as she’s seated and the imbalance of power feels overwhelming.

She has ways to play this.

Fight, fawn, play dumb, stay mute, let them talk.

The options play out quick in front of her.

Like a chess game, she needs to think at least three moves ahead; it’s just hard when she doesn’t know what this is about, or why there’s been a change.

“We are going to start by introducing ourselves, and then we are going to ask you some questions. After this you will return to your normal debrief. Is that understood?”

Natasha nods.

The verbal schedule of events helps to dampen the anxiety that’s building.

“My name is Director Thompson, next to me is Agent Fury and Agent Coulson.”

She remembers the latter two from her debriefs but it feels good to know their names.

The Director is new. She suspects he’s always been behind the two way mirror, just never showing his face.

He pauses.

“State your name.”

Natasha looks at the three of them.

“Natasha Romanoff.”

He nods.

“Do you remember your charges?”

Natasha doesn’t answer as the charges are read again.

Espionage, murder; it’s nothing new.

She takes the time as he’s reading, to look at the three men.

Fury hasn’t stopped watching her.

Though he has one eye patched, it’s uncanny how scrutinized she feels by the other. Coulson looks up from his notepad every now and then, writing something before looking back at her.

Thompson, however, is the one that has black eyes, suspicion and anger alternating as he reads from his notepad.

“You’ve been brought here under the protection of laws that our country has for defectors. Do you plead guilty?”

Natasha frowns.

Not willing to answer, she doesn’t move.

“How do you plead?”

Natasha considers the question.

There’s no doubt that it’s not that simple. She could say the words they want, but in a moment of compulsion, she feels herself start talking in defense.

Frustration and anger at the last month of being interrogated, of her food having ground glass, and the water being contaminated with something she couldn’t pick, of the constant debrief, and fear that battered her psyche.

“I was born into the Red Room,” she starts, staring down Thompson.

“Every day of my life, we were told who the enemy was.”

“You.”

“This.”

“Here.”

“It was beaten into us, to know that western propaganda would poison us.”

“Do you know what that’s like?”

“Do you know, what’s it’s like to leave that behind and for every day to feel like you’re betraying everything and everyone you’ve ever known?”

“I’m under no delusion, Director Thompson, that what I have done under their regime falls under terrorism, espionage or whatever you want to call it. But do you want to know what they call it?”

She lets the words hang.

“Glory.”

“Do you want to know what that gets you in the Red Room?”

She looks to Fury and Coulson.

Thompson may not understand, but for some reason she thinks they might.

“Reprieve.”

Quieter now, she leans forward.

“You fail and the world falls out. Beaten, raped, tortured, for the failure of a mission. There’s a reason they traffic women. Girls.”

She feels anger and grief swell at the vulnerability of herself and those that came before; and pauses to catch a hold of herself.

“And you do anything to make it stop. Even become the best at something you hate, so that it never happens again.”

She underestimated how much this conversation would take and immediately regrets talking in the first place.

“I didn’t fail. I can’t fail, and yes; if that means that from your point of view I am guilty for doing the things you say. But from mine, it means that I didn’t die.”

Director Thompson shuffles his paper and stands.

The room is silent.

“I do not like you, or trust you,” he starts.

His voice is neutral but there’s a note of anger.

“I think you are a liability, and I very much hate the position Barton has put us in, by bringing you in. That being said, given the information you have already conceded, the information you have promised, and your statement will be taken under advisement. But I warn you Romanoff, I am warning you, that one step, one toe out of line, and the full wrath of SHIELD and the American government will rain down on you.”

His chair bangs as he stands to leave; giving her one last look.

Fury looks to Coulson, with a slight nod, he stands, moving behind Natasha at a strange angle where she can still see him, but obscured by the camera.

She eyes them suspiciously, her heart beating audibly in her ears.

Fury is first to talk.

“He’s an asshole, but he’s not wrong. He will put you into prison if there’s ever anything that they deem as a toe out of line. You’re never going to get a fair trial and this is probably as good as it’s going to be for a while.”

Natasha stares at her hands, hating that she gave up on her own freedom for this.

She feels so angry at Clint and his kind words.

She should have just run.

The allure of the protection of America, too great in her desperation.

“But that’s not to say it’s all it’s going to be. You are a great asset to us,” Coulson continues, softening the words, and giving a small smile.

“And we want this to work. That being said, the psychiatrist reports tell us that you haven’t been talking, and the debrief reports, well, we know you’ve been holding back.”

He leaves the statement hanging.

Natasha chooses to say nothing. What is it she can say? They’re not wrong.

“As it stands, we expect more from you. Engage with the psychiatrists, do better at debrief.”

Fury waits until she meets his eyes.

The warning is clear.

“If you do, we can start to think about moving you out of the glass box.”

Natasha sighs inwardly, wondering just how much more she can give without losing herself.

The two men stand, and wait for her to do the same.

They frog march her back to the glass dungeon, Fury standing at the door, taking the handcuffs off.

“I warned you when you first came in, to not make me regret this. Do better,” he says gruffly, “and we can do more.”

Taking two steps back as she does with Clint, she watches them leave and then sits on the floor, legs crossed and things to think about.

.

Clint stands at the glass and watches her.

He waits until she looks up at him, her face unreadable.

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they were going to do that. I got told as we entered that they were waiting. I’ll try to make sure it doesn’t happen again… not without warning at least.”

He pushes dinner under the latch and she looks at it.

Everything is packaged.

There’s no loose foods.

Natasha frowns at the food, and she wonders if he knows.

“It seemed safer?” he confesses. “Can I come in?”

Natasha shakes her head, just slightly, but the meaning and loss of trust clear.

She doesn’t expect him to stay there.

But he does.

It shouldn’t be a shock, but it does surprise her, to have her wants respected.

Clint nods, perhaps understanding that she’s not ready to forgive him just yet.

“I’ll leave it here then. They’ve told me debrief is tomorrow at 9am, I’ll be down here at 8.30 same as always. Maybe we can have breakfast together?”

Natasha looks to the food, the prepackaged safe foods that she doesn’t have to think about.

“Yeah,” she says quietly.

“Okay.”

There’s a smile on his face, one that feels genuine.

“Okay, I’ll see you then.”

He stays for a second longer and then leaves.

She waits until she hears the second beep, and then lets her breath go.

It’s been a harrowing day and she places herself back to her position on the floor.

Sitting down, she closes her eyes, ignoring the pangs of hunger that bite at her.

.

Natasha thinks it’s around midnight when the second nightmare wakes her, and she looks to the food still on the floor.

Sighing, she drinks the bottled water and eats the packaged cheese and crackers.

He can’t know that the food’s been unsafe. Unless it was him, which she doubts. Nothing has been fatal, just warnings, she thinks.

The glass in breakfast foods, the slight taste of bleach in soup broths; it’s kids games compared to what she’s used to.

Before everything became what it was in the Red Room, the older girls used to bait the younger ones. Poisoning food with laxatives, sprinkling eggshells in rice, making the water undrinkable were all ways of weakening the others, keeping them hungry and dehydrated.

An easy way to get into your opponent's psyche.

She thinks about Clint and the small kindnesses he’s shown, and as she eats the sweet chocolate bar, then of Coulson and Fury, even Maria. The four people that she’s had most contact with, have not been unkind.

What she’s unsure of is the wider compound.

She’s not sure where her food comes from, who’s watching behind the camera and who has access to her psych reports. There are too many things she does not know and does not like.

She thinks of the warnings of the day, both spoken and not.

Natasha feels stupid.

If today is anything to go by, Natasha knows she needs an ally; she’s too vulnerable in the world here for her not to.

And Clint is about as close as she’s going to get.

.

<3

[btsmosphere]

Supercharged | JJK

Chapter 11: Right Beside You

prev | masterlist | next

🗲summary: It starts with a blow to the chest that changes your life. When your city’s most celebrated hero pays a visit, it turns out the noble Bolt has no trouble tossing lives aside. Lives that won't be missed. Lives like yours. Seven mysterious and powerful men give you another chance – one that starts to feel more like a curse the moment you meet golden boy Jungkook. The boy who wants you as far from his brothers as he can get you. Is it you he hates, or the blue lightning that now runs through your veins? And could it be his golden light that illuminates your heart when darkness threatens? 🗲this chapter: Jungkook has you to thank, if only he knew how.

🗲pairing: jungkook x female reader 🗲word count: 5.7k 🗲genre: angst, action, eventual fluff, enemies to lovers, slow burn, superheroes/villains au, found family 🗲rating: pg15 🗲warnings: violence with superpowers, swearing, past trauma (mentioned assault and torture), mentioned homelessness

a/n: the found family is strong with this one😌🥰 hi everyone, thank you for joining me for this next part of the journey! sorry for being super offline this week, it's been an exhausting one and I'm still a bit mentally checked out as I write this note, but all of the positive comments have been lovely to see🥰special note for the anon who wanted a sneak peek, I just couldn't find a good spot to post for this chapter and didn't have the energy to comb through for one either. I'll consider for future parts when I have more time to do so, but in the meantime I would love just to hear what you enjoyed so far💞enjoy the chapter!

Jungkook didn’t speak to you about that night. Barely even looked your way the next morning when you slunk in to have breakfast.

It was entirely unfair that he was there bright and early, looking completely put-together in that handsome way he always did – or maybe it was one of the perks of having a face like his. A lucky side effect of his stubbornly ignoring you was that he didn’t seem to notice, certainly not acknowledge, your envious staring at him, before you were able to catch yourself and rid your mind of these thoughts.

You, however, had only gone back upstairs when you felt your eyes drooping again, long after Jungkook had disappeared. Even then, it was to fitful sleep. All the midnight epiphanies in the world weren’t about to make you forget your guilt over Hoseok.

So now, it was safe to say you were tired.

Hunching over a plate, you said little, but at least tried to smile at Hope, who caught your gaze. Yoongi eyed between the two of you, and you shrank again, unable to stand the thought he was also wary of you. Maybe Jungkook was just the most open about it.

You wondered over your toast whether Jungkook had a similar reason for being awake last night. Whether he knew yours.

Did he realise that you had been up because of your guilt-ridden nightmares? Would that make him feel better, to know you were being punished for your actions by your own psyche?

You hadn’t thought to question his own presence in the training room at night until now, though. Not that it was a particularly pleasant train of thought. Did he have nightmares of his own? Worse still, were they the same as yours? Had your near miss caused him the same fear it had you, enough to invade his sleep?

At the end of the table, Jungkook spoke in a low voice to Jin. There was no chance for you to guess what they were talking about.

Yet you were still watching. You couldn’t look away, almost wondering if you could see inside his head if you looked hard enough. Puzzle him out.

A scraping sound and movement beneath your hand jerked your attention away.

Your eyes darted to your plate – or where it had been. They followed as it dragged itself swiftly across the table, stopping in front of a clasped pair of hands. And Jimin’s eyes, intent on you under raised brows, made you shift.

“Well, if you’re not going to eat it,” he smiled innocently.

With a pout, you made a swipe for the toast you had abandoned on your plate in your (rather long) moment of distraction. The plate, of course, swiftly darted away from your reach, then switched directions.

Huffing, you gave up, slouching back sulkily in your chair while Jimin laughed.

Another hand reached over to slide your breakfast back to you, this time met with no protest. Jimin was still laughing, glittering pink dying in his eyes, and you smiled gratefully to V, your food restorer.

Lesson learned, you did keep your attention to yourself this time as you finished without looking back up.

As such, you missed the sharp eyes that had finally turned towards you.

At a loss, and not keen as usual to head to training, you followed Jimin and V over to the couch and sunk into it after breakfast, ready to waste away some of the morning. The other two kept muttering between themselves, but you were happy to let them go on unbothered.

A weight dipping the cushion beside you made your head turn in surprise.

Hope flopped against the back of the sofa, looking up at you with a smile.

“Did I ever tell you how I got my powers?” he said, tone casual.

Meanwhile, you tried not to widen your eyes. While all the boys, for obvious reasons, knew about the cause of your powers’ arrival, you weren’t sure about theirs. It wasn’t something you could just… ask.

Or so you thought.

It had been one of the worst nights of your life, so you imagined it was similar for them. Why should they want to share that with someone they didn’t trust?

Maybe Hobi did trust you, though. Because when you shook your head, he shifted his elbows onto the back of the sofa, leaning forward to confide in you.

“I was a student,” he began the tale, “training for stunt work on the side. I had to work this shitty all-night convenience store to afford it… not exactly in the safest end of town.”

You could only imagine it all too well. You realised Jimin and V had stopped their chatter, lapsing into silent attention to the story, although they must know it already.

“One night, some random guy tried to rob the place. When he started attacking a customer, I vaulted the cash desk to stop him. He beat the shit out of me. Had a crowbar and everything. But then, when I was on the floor – couldn’t move anymore, not even stand – it’s like I suddenly woke up. I don’t know how else to describe it.”

Watching his face carefully, you found no words. It was clear the experience had been terrifying, his expression clouding for a moment as he told you the worst of it. You had never seen him look so serious.

He shook himself lightly, meeting your eyes again, and the normally permanent smile returned to his face.

“Suddenly I got the energy to fight back. Since then, I’ve moved faster, been stronger, than I ever was before. It turned a few heads on the stunt team, which is how Namjoon got wind of me.”

“Wow, that’s… scary,” you settled for, though it didn’t do his story justice.

“Yeah,” he nodded, before turning fully to you, a look fixing you in place. “Nothing compared with a slip in training.”

You wilted at the painful reminder which blindsided you. So that’s what this was about?

Hope clapped you on the shoulder.

“I still trust you, yeah? That’s not up to Jungkook.”

Nodding, you finally managed a weak smile of your own.

“Thanks.”

Not knowing how to settle back into the sofa, you shifted and spied V whispering something to Jimin. Jimin shifted back to look him in the face, brow tilting in question. V nodded.

Then Jimin spun to you.

“Tae also wants me to tell you… how he got his powers.”

Your eyebrows shot up.

“Really,” you shifted your gaze to V, “don’t feel you have to. It must be tough-”

“It may be hard to talk about, but you should hear it,” Jimin assured you, “we want you to know.”

Your heart softened at this double show of trust. Giving a nod, you watched Jimin take a bracing breath.

“I was the one who found him,” he began, “Namjoon sent me. He heard about the place, wanted to investigate… it was a testing centre. They were keeping him there like a prisoner, seeing what stuff they could inject until he…”

Jimin choked off the sentence. You didn’t want to hear the end of it.

Jimin’s eyes were wide and betrayed such dazzling emotion you could hardly look. It was no wonder he was such a fierce protector of V, that they loved each other so strongly.

“In the end, they gave him fire. We’re not even sure if they meant to, if they knew what they were doing. But they were using him, and I had to get him out of there.”

Letting silence stretch for a moment, you waited until it was clear he wasn’t going on.

“Good,” you spoke quietly. Shifting your eyes to V, you found him looking at you calmly, though the darkness in his eyes was heavier than normal. “I’m glad you made it here.”

Jimin squeezed his hand.

Though you tried to swallow it down, you couldn’t help your next question. You wouldn’t ask what happened to Hope’s would-be killer, but this…

“What happened to the lab?” you whispered.

V’s gaze remained unblinking.

“Burned,” he said, in that rare, low voice.

Not leaving his gaze, you only nodded.

You may have been accepted by your friends. Their trust bolstered you, it did, only… Something didn’t sit right while you were still so perplexed at your precarious footing with Jungkook.

When he did show up, Jungkook seemed oddly distracted all morning. Weirdest of all was that his mood didn’t drive him away to the gym like usual. He sat at the end of the sofa until Yoongi arrived, fishing controllers from the dreaded Drawer of Cables. Playing a few rounds of video games was fun, but you still found yourself glancing a little too often at the detached Jungkook. When a controller got passed to him, he nearly won without breaking into a sweat, only to apparently zone out and fall off the map near the end.

The others laughed at him and yelled their own victories, the two of you the only ones not joining in. At least you cracked a grin, but Jungkook seemed to have drifted.

Maybe, with the others knowing him better than you did, their lack of notice was a good sign. Surely you couldn’t be the only one caught so off-guard by his silence? Or maybe it was because of last night. None of the others had heard your odd midnight conversation.

With Jungkook acting this way, you had wondered how training would play out. If he would even show. You wouldn’t blame him after yesterday with Hobi, and… whatever that had been last night.

No, you wouldn’t blame him, but strangely you found yourself hoping for the opposite in any case. Some sign from him about what last night meant… or at least that you should forget about it.

In the event, your wondering was never answered.

Namjoon marching into the room wasn’t what any of you had expected. Usually, that meant business. And today was no exception.

“Are you guys ready to head out?”

Which meant that if you weren’t, now was the time to prepare. All you needed to do was grab shoes, and then you were following Jin as he grabbed keys and headed down the front stairs to the garage.

Behind you, Hobi was desperately searching for a second shoe, only having found one in his room. Yoongi had been begrudgingly roped into helping, and his sighs filled the air at regular intervals as he found yet another spot empty.

Jimin was hopping around as he tried to run to the door before tying his laces.

Namjoon walked through the sudden chaos, unfazed, raising his voice slightly.

“Bosun’s just had to flee his place at the edge of town. Says there are people inside already. So we’d better move.”

The garage door slid open as you reached it. Jungkook was already waiting. He had been the first one to his feet when Namjoon entered with a battle plan, and you got it. Some good action would force unwanted distractions from your mind like nothing else.

He pushed away from the wall, squaring his shoulders as he stepped towards the waiting cars. And stumbled.

You bit down on your lip, but it was as if he could sense your instinctive laughter. Yours were the first place his eyes glowered as he recovered balance.

Ducking your eyes, they landed on a sneaker strewn on the ground.

“Oi, Hobi!” you called, launching his missing sneaker up the stairs past Namjoon, who was now descending.

“Thanks!” came his call, and then he was beside you in an instant, yellow light flashing in his eyes.

“Hey, only one of us has speed powers!” Yoongi complained, jogging down the stairs last.

Namjoon’s eyes flickered over the lot of you and then you were piling into cars. Jimin tugged you after him and V into Jin’s car, while the others took the neighbouring one.

With the unexpected attack already apparently underway, Jin cut all the corners he could as you sped across the city. You remembered seeing Bosun’s name in one of the various files Jin was sifting through as he and Namjoon desperately tried to strategise their way out of this game already in motion. Clearly, his wasn’t one of their top places of concern as he hadn’t been relocated yet.

You were beginning to see why. The streets you passed grew less and less maintained, cracks, weeds and broken signs whizzing past your window. This was more similar to the end of town you used to live in, before Bolt. And you would assume it to be way off his radar.

Apparently not.

Jin pulled up in some alley beside an unassuming and leaky-looking warehouse. Fumbling to open the glove box, he passed you each a small receiver along with instructions.

“Jimin, V, take that side. The back entrance is around there. With any luck they aren’t expecting us, but be ready for anything. Y/N, go the other way, check it’s clear. Then head to the front where you’ll meet the others.”

Nodding hastily, you all scrammed from the car. Jimin patted your shoulder and flashed you a grin – a nod from V and they were sprinting away to the left. You peeled off right instead, focus setting in the moment your feet were in motion.

Rounding a corner, you were faced with a near-identical alley, narrow and shadowy with puddles nestled in cracks in the concrete.

Eyes scanning, you first checked the windows in the long expanse of wall. There were few, high up and tiny. From here, you could see no one looking back out at you. Hopefully that meant the surprise factor was still on your side.

It was when your eyes returned to the street in front of you that your steps faltered. Closer now, a figure became clear in the shadows that you hadn’t made out before.

Slowing, you squinted at them, hands already twitching. But they hadn’t made any move, although they had clearly seen you. Crouched against the wall, they looked directly your way as you approached hesitantly. Maybe they just didn’t know who you were? But if they were guarding this place, surely any passerby could be classed as a threat?

So why weren’t they attacking?

You stopped fully, now only paces from them. You saw it was a young man, maybe even a teenager. His eyes were large as they looked at you from below unkempt hair, and while they had a hard edge of practised hostility, all you read there was wariness and fear.

Hands retreating under fraying sleeves, he shifted uncomfortably the longer you stood in front of him. Worn-out shoes with a hole in the side shifted near to a puddle.

Frowning, your eyes caught sight of a bag he was sheltering with his body.

Breath slowed uncomfortably in your throat as it dawned on you. He wasn’t with the people attacking the warehouse – he probably had no idea anything was even going on in the building behind the two of you.

“You should get out of here,” you met his eyes again.

He didn’t need telling twice. Since you had showed interest in him, his discomfort had been clear, and he finally shot to his feet, still clinging to the overstuffed backpack behind him.

Then your eyes were torn from his nervous ones by a blast from the end of the alley.

Whipping around, you were briefly dazzled by a burst of gold light. Inexplicably, it put you at ease – or the knowledge of who was behind it did.

What had you instantly back on edge were the two silhouetted figures that now ran across the entrance to the alleyway. The sight of weapons clutched to their chests had your fingers flexing, feeling your powers simmer defensively.

It had begun.

A second after the armed people emerged, one of them was sent to the floor by a human-sized bullet – Hope. Their gun skidded away, landing in a shallow puddle with a splash.

Starting forwards intently to aid your team, you spared one last glance back at the boy you had found in the alley.

Those same fearful eyes were now fixed past you at the violence unfolding as it spilled from the warehouse entrance. Rigid, he seemed frozen to the spot.

“Go!” you barked, “I mean it!”

And then you were running. If he had any sense, the kid would get moving.

Another sharp blade of gold light descended, nearly knocking over the remaining assailant ahead of you, but they ducked and staggered on, the blast clashing with the neighbouring wall. Tracing the source of the attack, you spied Jungkook’s vantage point on the roof, his head visible though only a brief blur as he raced after his target.

Fixing your eyes front, you charged head-on at the fleeing man.

And he spotted you too.

Whatever weapon you were facing now, you didn’t fancy finding out. He was aiming it, giving you a clear view down the barrel.

Your step never once faltered. You didn’t need to reach for a weapon.

You were one.

Blue fired from your fingertips before his could move on the trigger. It caught him, flinging him backwards, flipping before slamming against the ground.

Still hot-footing it to the heat of the action, you glanced to Jungkook, smirk already lifting your lips, ready to share the momentary victory.

But he hadn’t changed direction. Instead, he was flying towards you, descending from the rooftop on a pillar of gold, and his other arm was aiming behind you-

Turning, you caught sight of the fleeing boy, almost out of sight now.

Your heart dropped in slow motion, but your body acted without waiting for permission.

Well-aimed gold streaked down the alley. Hand raising, you threw an arrow of blue to meet it. Lightning collided in the air, your shot throwing his off, a missile of sparking blue and gold smashing against the warehouse.

Outrage painting his face, Jungkook hit the ground, already dashing towards you and the boy. Readied his arm again…

“Jungkook!” you cried.

Not stepping out of his path, the two of you practically crashed into each other. Your hand caught his shoulder, restraining him as you twisted to look behind you.

The boy was on the ground, metres from the impact. As you watched, he scrambled to his feet, hoisted his backpack over a shoulder and ran, finally disappearing into another street.

“He’s not with them,” you panted, “…he’s just a kid.”

Turning back to Jungkook, you expected rage, frustration… but not this. His eyes were fixed on the spot the boy had fled from. As his eyes tracked, slowly, back to your face, he inhaled softly. Held it. Slack-jawed horror washed over him.

Struck by the force of emotion surfacing so suddenly in his eyes, you lightened your grip and took a step back.

A heavy frown pressed on Jungkook's brows, gaze once again growing distant, drifting to the alley behind you.

“I didn’t think…” he mumbled, but his lips stilled again, parted in horror.

“You’re not supposed to expect it,” you whispered.

Eyes fixed on Jungkook’s intently, you caught the sharp flicker as they returned to you. Lucidity flooded back to him and his throat bobbed in a hard swallow.

As he looked at you, his frown eased imperceptibly, realisation widening his eyes instead.

“He would be dead.” Jungkook’s voice was brittle.

Your heart was only now slowing in your chest, the shock of adrenaline subsiding. All it took was another blow from somewhere behind the pair of you, ringing out through the confined space, to pull you away from Jungkook.

His head turned; you stepped to see around him. Dropping your arm fully at last, you broke into a sprint once more, knowing even before you heard his steps that Jungkook would be right beside you.

You eyed the warehouse and alleyway disappearing in the rear-view mirror. Soon they were eaten up by the maze of roads taking you back into the city that was none the wiser.

There hadn’t been many more attackers. No one of note, only bolstered by weapons of Bolt’s previous acquisition. In the end, the group of you had driven them out with relative ease.

Which was good. Bosun had shaken hands with Namjoon outside in relief as he found his work still intact.

But you wondered if you were the only one nagged by another win without sight of the orchestrator. Bolt seemed to follow you everywhere, without ever showing his face. You took your eyes from the cars around you to a news stand as you drove past. Blue splashed over the front cover, Bolt took his place in the glorious spotlight, right where he wanted.

Did the readers know what he had working behind the scenes?

The weapons these fighters were decked out with, you knew them. But you also knew Kuyang had never made so many of them as you were now encountering on each shout.

“Do you think Namjoon-hyung will mind if we skip training?” Jimin was nudging V with that playfully devilish grin of his, “we basically had a workout already!”

Glancing at the rear-view, you saw Jin raise a brow and shared a private smile with yourself. You didn’t think Namjoon was the one Jimin should be worrying about.

Then you sat up.

“Hey, Jin?” you spoke.

He hummed, glancing to you in the mirror, but your eyes had caught something else.

“The same car is still behind us.”

Jin’s hands tightened on the wheel and he shot a look to follow yours.

“You’re sure?”

He braked a little too sharply as a car pulled from a turning ahead of you.

“I’m sure. Not that red one, the black one behind it, do you see?”

Narrowed eyes scanning the mirror, he nodded.

“Since when?”

“A good few roads. Since the lights.”

Jimin had gone quiet, all three of you now watching Jin closely for an answer as he pursed his lips. Though you sincerely hoped it was simply a harmless coincidence, you had left the busiest roads and were nearing home. Best not to take chances.

“Let’s see what they’re about,” Jin said, voice low and calculated.

A challenge.

A turning approached, so he indicated and slipped into the right-turn lane. Tentatively, you turned your head, enough to eye the black car. It carried on behind the red one and you relaxed – for a moment.

Then, just before you were obscured by the corner, it, too, switched lanes.

Your car took a collective breath in.

Jin tilted his head.

“Interesting.”

Chewing your cheek, you glanced sideways. The same nerves were reflected back in Jimin and V’s eyes.

“Jimin, can you text Namjoon that we have a potential tail?” Jin asked, tone suddenly lighter, “might be late. And in the meantime-”

He turned again, taking you down a much smaller road. The opposite direction to your original destination.

Driving straight on, he waited until the black car showed itself behind you. There was almost no doubt in your mind now.

“Joon says he’ll see us back home,” Jimin said, lifting his phone up surreptitiously to snap some images of your stalker, “and that they’re all clear. Although maybe whoever’s following them is just more subtle about it.”

Jin chuckled with him, but it was brief.

“Well, without Y/N spotting it, I’m not sure I would be much the wiser,” he mused.

Another glance in the mirror, and the black vehicle was indicating, pulling between parked cars. Didn’t tuck itself all the way in, with what could be an effort to keep a view clear of your car heading further down the road.

“Oh, were heading this way after all, hm?” Jin asked dryly.

Looking back to the road with determination, he took a right. Not long after, another right, where he swung around and stopped, facing out onto the road you had just left.

It didn’t even take that long. Your lungs hadn’t even started straining from the breath you held.

The car drove in front of you.

Jimin was ready, taking another picture as the driver passed, but there was no double-take or visible glance your way. They had a hood up, mask and dark glasses on.

The car carried on, but this game wasn’t going to last. As Jin pulled out, they were already slowing down, turning onto the road parallel to yours.

A burst of speed had you pressed back in the seat.

“Jimin, can you stop this guy? I’ve seen about enough.”

Jimin hummed a casual agreement, but you saw the smirk that grew on his lips, the glint in his eyes before pink light bled into them.

Sure enough, at the next intersection, the black car was right there. Jimin held a hand up, splayed his fingers, and that was all it took. Your stalker hit an invisible wall. The tyres froze, car stuck fast on the road it had been speeding down.

Jin put his foot down.

Several turns and roads later, with no more signs of the same vehicle, or of any repeat followers, he finally turned on himself, resuming your intended route at last. Didn’t stop you all keeping lookout, even as you waited for the hidden wall to slip aside and let you home. Especially then.

It was a relief to spill up the stairs to the scents of cooking – tteokbokki, if you weren’t mistaken.

The second lot of relief came when you saw Yoongi was the one behind the stove. Bound to be a solid meal, trusting him.

While the group noticed your return, Hobi jumping to his feet and Namjoon striding forwards, checking on all of you, you paused on the top step. Just cast your eyes around, for a second. Sometimes these moments would hit you from nowhere. Some outdated part of you expecting to have to cook for yourself after getting back from an already exhausting day, only to find your team making things easier.

In the small ways, just as much as the big, your life had changed. In the small ways, it was definitely for the better.

Letting a fond, awed smile slip onto your face for a second, you breathed in.

Jimin’s laugh met your ears, and you turned back to the moment. He clapped a chuckling Jungkook on the shoulder, giving a playful shove before he moved on towards the table. You moved to follow, only to find Jungkook hadn’t budged.

Residual smile still on his face, eyes wide and cheerful, his gaze rested on you. There was a slight hesitation, his smile growing fainter, nervous as he appeared to stall in front of you.

“Thanks,” he said quietly. It would almost be conversational; if only you had had a casual conversation with the guy, you would know. “Glad you’re all back safe.”

At your stunned stare, he squeezed a hurried smile back in place, and fled to Yoongi’s side in the kitchen. Your mouth hung open, eyes following Jungkook’s back even as Jin marched past.

“Yah, trust me to take care of the kitchen hyung,” Yoongi complained to the back of Jin’s head as he bent to sample a spoonful of sauce.

“I’m just taste-testing,” Jin defended a second later with a cheeky grin on his face.

Yoongi didn’t bat an eye.

“Well if the inspector’s not happy, report me,” he harrumphed, “go sit down.”

Jin allowed himself to be shoved table-wards, self-satisfied smile permanently on his face.

Still hovering beside Yoongi, Jungkook finally looked back at you. It would have been subtle, too, if you had been able to tear your eyes from him yet. He gazed up from below his hair.

A small, startled expression flitted across his face – not so intimidating now, huh? – before your view was mercifully blocked by Namjoon.

“I heard you noticed the tail back there. Good spot.”

Smiling, you bobbed your head.

“Thanks,” you eyed the floor, “I don’t even know what made me look for it.”

“Whatever it was, I’m glad you did. It got us all back here. I’ll be working on finding out who they were, though, and what they were doing after us.”

Your eyes flicked back to his face, a flicker of unease shooting across your expression.

He sighed, his turn to drop his gaze this time.

“I’ll keep you all posted. For now, it’s done. And I believe dinner is in order.”

Stepping aside, he ushered you past, only somewhat assuaged. That hadn’t been some usual attack which you could put down all-guns-blazing. Someone following you… that was different. Someone playing a long game. And there was one person you could already think of who was running one of those.

In the time you had been speaking with Namjoon, Jin had somehow returned to the kitchen, though Yoongi was silent about it this time.

Yoongi passed dishes as Jin scooped food into them, Jungkook rooting through the cupboards for something too. Slipping into a seat, you watched them idly. Jin set the steaming plates on the side, which is when Jungkook leaned over to chop chives over the top. You sure were in for a luxurious meal. A decent reward, you thought.

Turning with the next plate, Jin paused. Didn’t set it down. He stared, frozen, at Jungkook.

Catching on a second later, the younger man looked up like a caught puppy. Even if he hadn’t been doing anything nefarious.

An amused smile stole over Jin’s face.

“Since when do you cook so fancy, Kook?” he grinned.

“F-fancy?” Jungkook blinked. “Isn’t this… how you make it?”

Jin shrugged, setting down the plate and turning to grab the one Yoongi proffered impatiently.

“Never thought to add them,” Jin mused, “looks nice though. Tell me, where did you pick up such cheffing tips?”

Jin was half-joking, still plating up, but something was dawning on the younger man.

Jungkook looked comically horrified, gaze darting between the green chives in one hand and the scissors in the other. He paused like that just a little too long to sound casual when he finally regained his voice to mutter:

“This is how Y/N likes it.”

Any hope of sounding nonchalant died as Jin’s eyes bulged from his face. Yoongi froze, eyebrows raising, before looking over his shoulder to you with a questioning smile.

Namjoon, mercifully, looked down to his lap with a private smile, but he was the only one. Hobi broke into a grin and Jimin spun to laugh openly at his younger brother, who looked thoroughly grumpy now. Jungkook’s mouth was fixed in a solid pout, his hard glare not helping in the slightest as the declarations of joyful surprise clearly got to him.

In the face of Yoongi’s now wiggling eyebrows, and a disconcertingly intense stare from V, you laughed weakly.

For a second, your eyes met with Jungkook’s. He snapped his gaze away an instant later, firmly hiding his flushed cheeks with his turned back, recommencing his chive-chopping rather more aggressively.

Jin clapped him on the back exaggeratedly, before scooping a dish up.

“I think this has the most,” he smirked, sliding it to rest right in front of you, “the Y/N speciality, made just for you.”

With a roll of your eyes and an exasperated laugh, you took the bowl.

“Yah, leave off! You brought this on yourself, you know. Why not teach Jungkook your way?”

“Wha-” Jin broke off, flicking a dish towel at Jungkook’s back, “how many times have I made tteokbokki with you, punk?”

Shoulders a little looser, Jungkook ducked out of the way.

“You mean made for me,” he defended.

Leaving Jin to splutter behind him, Jungkook marched over to the table with two more chive-topped bowls of food which he set down a little too hard, landing with loud clunks.

The others dutifully moved on to other things as the plates all reached the table and the lot of you dug in, grateful after an eventful day. When Jin made a comment about the added flavour of the dish, it was genuine and not a dig at their youngest.

Still, Jungkook picked quietly at his food. It may have been bold to claim he was avoiding your eye, as you couldn’t really remember a time he had sought it out, but though he was only a seat across from you, he didn’t once look at you. What was worse was that you couldn’t help but notice. Couldn’t stop your attention straying to him among the boys’ chatter which should have been distracting you.

At least he ate it all.

You made a point to collect his plate once you had all finished. Namjoon had already disappeared, Jimin gathering the rest of the dishes to wash.

Rounding the table, you lifted the empty dish from under his nose, making him look up.

“Thanks, Jungkook,” you said, before he could look away. You didn’t smile, just returned his startled gaze with your own steady one.

He had to know you weren’t laughing at him. Even if a sprinkling of chives was nothing to be embarrassed about in the first place.

Ducking his gaze after a long second, he followed the others to flop down on the sofa.

Watching with amusement, you had to force yourself to move too. You placed the dishes on the pile and distractedly grabbed a towel since Jimin had started washing. It was funny… Not long ago, you wouldn’t have thought the abrasive, menacing Jungkook you knew then could ever look like a deer in the headlights.

“What are you smiling about?”

An elbow from Jimin brought you abruptly from your reflections. Yelping, you swatted him away.

“Nothing,” you insisted, grabbing desperately for a dish to dry.

Your response only encouraged the teasing smile spreading across your companion’s mouth. You didn’t like the way his eyebrow quirked. He fixed you with a scarily knowing look that had you gulping.

Then he shrugged and turned back to the dishwater.

THE CHIIIIVES😂Thank you for reading! How are you enjoying them all getting along?💜

<prev | masterlist | next>

taglist: @aianloveseven @preciouschimine @written-in-flowers @taegularities @dvalities

@parapiop7 @taiwan0618 @11thenightwemet11 @junniesoleilkth @doctorquack

@oddinary4bts @svnbangtansworld @ktownshizzle @minisugakoobies @jksusawife

@kokoandkookie @veemegatron @kookxin @seokout @jkayy

@peaaachpit @stxrrielle @welcometomyworld13 @ssexsellls @ramicherie

@jk5t4r @purplebeebs @nanjeonlangakook @wifflepuff1344

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Series Masterlist

Chapter 4

Warnings: Sexual situations

When Rick noticed Daryl lagging behind after a couple more hours, he made the call to set up camp. You had expected tents and at least blankets but what you got were bedrolls and jackets. Daryl had told you to sit tight while he went hunting and Rick was setting up a perimeter. 

You watched the other man with naked curiosity. You had no experiences with the dead, having been taken by Big Jazz just before the outbreak. You hadn’t even seen a walker in person. It was easy to decipher what the string and cans were supposed to accomplish. Perhaps if you studied these men enough, you’d be able to defend yourself should the need arise. 

For now, you supposed, you’d just stay perched on that log and wait for Daryl to return. You could use the time to psych yourself up for alone time with the archer. You weren’t as good as the other girls at interpreting what customers wanted, but you usually came pretty close with a few adjustments. 

Daryl was quiet and attentive. He probably liked a loud lover. One that would let him know he was making them feel good. He wouldn’t want to be called daddy if he disliked sir so vehemently. He liked being in control. He had taken the initiative to purchase you, ignoring Rick’s hesitance but you just had a gut feeling that he wouldn’t mind relinquishing that control on occasion, if for nothing more than a reprieve. 

Tonight, you’d just present yourself to him and let him do as he pleased. He probably wanted to reprimand you for all your earlier misconduct and providing the full canvas would possibly save him from explaining himself to Rick, as long as you could keep the bruises hidden. 

Thinking of being naked in front of him made your stomach flip. Men had been disappointed with your body before. Hopefully, you could convince him that you were worth keeping based on your performance alone. 

You flinched when there came movement to your right, Daryl stalking in from the shadows with a few squirrels held by the tails. You’d never had squirrel before. There were a lot of things you’d never had but especially now when most depended on hunting or scavenging to survive, you had missed out. You had been fed instant oatmeal, protein bars, and sometimes dog food for the past however long it had been. 

Daryl borrowed Rick’s knife, having offered his own up in trade for you. The guilt you felt hit you like a ton of bricks but you forced it down in favor of watching him work to prepare the meal. Each slice, each pull was done with a practiced precision. It was morbidly hypnotic, but soon there sticks through the rodents and they were being roasted over the fire on a makeshift spit. 

Daryl was sitting across from you with Rick at his side. Each of them was engrossed in something: Rick with a map and Daryl with the bolts from his crossbow. Focused as he was, you would look up to see him staring at you over the flames. You were quick to avert your gaze so as not to offend him any more than you already had that day. 

The silence continued until the food was ready to eat, Rick smiling and patting the archer on the shoulder in thanks. Then Daryl stood and made his way over to you, offering you one of the skewers. 

“Thank you, Sir.” You said quietly, keeping your eyes downcast while accepting the meat. He didn’t go back to where he had been, actually choosing to sit a little closer to you on your right. The food didn’t really have a smell other than just—meat. Still, your mouth watered. Holding the skewer over your lap, you waited for Daryl to finish eating, which didn’t take long. Had the situation been different, you might have laughed at his lack of decorum. 

“Ya just gonna stare at it or what?” He finally said around a mouthful. You blinked at him, hoping he’d get the message without you needing to remind him. You hadn’t openly told him earlier. He had told you to eat and drink without explanation. 

“She’s waitin’ for you to say it’s okay.” Rick offered, placing his own empty skewer on the ground next to his leg. 

Daryl’s lip curled, his brows drawn inward. “Gave it to ya, didn’t I? What else would I wantcha to do with it?”

Though you were skeptical of that being actual consent, you eagerly picked off a piece of meat and popped it into your mouth. It was bland but not in a horrible way. So much better than dog food. With a quiet hum of approval, you dug in, raising the skewer to your mouth to rip bites right off the source. 

“I think she likes it.” Rick chuckled, watching you with a gentle smile. 

When you noticed both men looking at you, the stick was lowered and you wiped your mouth on the back of your hand with a mumbled apology. 

“S’fine. Just eat, would ya? No one here gives a shit how ya do it.” Daryl tossed his empty skewer and wiped his palms on his thighs, no longer interested in you at all. “I got first watch.” He said, leaning back against the tree behind him. Rick nodded and rolled the top of his bedroll down in a makeshift pillow before stretching out on it. 

“Wake me when you get tired.” He yawned and shifted until his back faced you. 

That left just you and Daryl, and suddenly the squirrel meat wasn’t at all appetizing. After staring at it for probably much too long, you held it out to him. 

“Ya barely touched it.” He commented with a look that eerily resembled concern. 

“I, um—I don’t need much. It was really good though. Thank you, Sir.” It was hard to suppress a flinch when he stood but he bypassed you and crouched in front of his bag. 

“Give it ‘ere.” You placed the food onto his palm and watched with grand amounts of confusion as he pulled out a cloth and shook bread crumbs from it before he hastily pulled the skewer from the meat and wrapped it. “Ya can have it tomorrow if’n ya want. Or one’a us’ll eat it.”

You nodded, pulling your feet up onto the log and wrapping your arms around your shins. 

“Ya tired?”

Was it a trick question? “No, Sir.” I’m exhausted. 

Daryl closed his eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “Ya sure?”

“Yes, Sir.” No. 

His blue eyes, warmed by the soft glow of the flames, narrowed and gave you a once over. “Fine. Ya can sleep on that when ya want.” He pointed to his own bedroll as he stood, going back to his tree in two long strides. 

You were so utterly confused. Did he not want to fuck you? You risked a glance at him to find him staring off into the darkness over where Rick lay sleeping. You didn’t understand what he meant for you to do. Maybe you had it all wrong and he needed you to take control? The thought terrified you. You had done it before when customers asked but to initiate it without express permission seemed dangerous. 

So, you waited. 

Just as before, you would find him watching you when you chanced a look in his direction. His expression was unreadable. And so it continued like that well into the night, until you were fighting to keep your eyes open. 

That’s when he stood. 

Your back straightened, your body reacting, ready and as willing as you could be to do what he wanted. 

“Gonna take a piss. Won’t be but a minute.” He said lowly, watching you for another moment before he disappeared into the darkness. 

You stared at the spot where the shadows had swallowed him and waited, still nervous and unsure. True to his word, he emerged only a moment later, fastening his belt as he walked. He stepped over the perimeter line and headed straight for the tree to assume the same position as before, legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles with his back against the tree. 

Surely, he was waiting for you. Things might even turn out worse for you if you withheld from him much longer. 

With a sigh, you stood, taking small steps over to him and lowering to your knees next to his legs. He watched you with a curious expression but said nothing. Steeling your nerves to calm the nausea that attempted to bring up the squirrel, you threw one leg over his thighs to straddle him and began to unbutton the shirt he had given you. 

“Whoa, hey! The fuck ya doin’?” He pressed himself impossibly closer to the tree, his hands up as if in surrender. When you were finally brave enough to meet his eyes, you found them wide and full of panic. Not kindness, but panic. 

“I thought—” You blinked at him, your small fingers frozen on the buttons of the shirt. “Don’t you want to fuck me now?” 

If his eyes got any wider, they would pop out of his skull. “What?! That—that ain’t what this is!” He had yet to move, same as you. For a few more uncomfortable moments, you simply stared at one another before he cleared his throat. “Could ya get offa me?”

You did move then, scrambling back to your log in clumsy motions. “Did I—do something wrong, Sir?” He was purposefully keeping his eyes off of you. 

“Ya should get some sleep.” He stood quickly and grabbed his crossbow, stopping to speak over his shoulder. “Gonna check the perimeter.”

You opened your mouth but closed it just as quickly while he walked away. Once he was out of sight, you turned back to the fire, buttoning the shirt back up. What had just happened? 

[scorpiussage]

In Your Eyes

Jackson Rippner x Reader - Oneshot 

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x Reader (Y/N)

Summary: Jackson finds himself more interested than usual when he has to kidnap you as bait for a hit. 

Warnings: Smut, kidnapping, mentions of murder, a little non-con if you squint

Jackson doesn’t usually put much personal interest in his hits. He does whatever he needs to do and then he goes home.

That’s how he expects this mission to go, to just go through the motions and get his check at the end of it. But then he sees you for the first time. 

Your pretty, smiling face is looking up at him from the file he’s been given on you. You’re the only daughter of a prominent politician and the apple of his eye. That’s why you’ve been flagged as being the perfect bait for this hit. 

And you are pretty, with an earnest, innocent face. He’s intrigued like he hasn’t been before. Slapping the file closed, he sends out the confirmation text to his lackeys. It’s time to get this party started.

…

You come to slowly with a pounding headache and a deep ache in your wrists. Managing to lift your head you look around yourself with mounting panic. You’re in some windowless, concrete room and you’re tied down to a chair that’s been bolted to the floor. 

The last thing you remember is getting ready for bed. You’d thought you’d heard something and before you could even turn around, a gloved hand holding a rag was slapping over your mouth. You were unconscious within minutes.

“H-hello?” You call out tentatively, your voice cracking with dehydration. 

Things are silent for a bit before a door placed behind you opens up and the slow, confident steps of a so far unseen person make their way into the room. Making their way around you, the mysterious person comes into your view. Whoever this is, he’s handsome with stunning features that would serve him well if he decided to take up modeling. 

He’s smirking down at you and those haunting eyes of his rake up and down your bound form. 

“Where am I?” You finally ask, it comes out as a whisper as the full weight of your situation settles on your psyche. 

“Not important,” the man replies while stuffing his hands in his pockets.

“I don’t have anything to give you, please let me go,” you plead; your eyes watering with fear. 

“It’s not so much what you have,” the man says with a smile, “It’s more that you’re the only child of your father. No hard feelings, it’s just business.” 

You break out into sobs while you tug desperately at your bound arms. 

Crouching down, the man captures your chin in a bruising grip, “Quit crying. You’ll be leaving here alive. Eventually.”

He leaves after that, slamming the door behind himself.

…

The man comes and goes frequently. He doesn’t seem to be doing much other than coordinating via phone calls and text messages.

Feeling the bitterness of the situation, you bite out scathingly, “What are you, the goon?”

The man barks out a laugh at that and leans casually against the wall across from you, “Not the goon. I’m more of a project manager.” 

You sneer at that, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” 

He watches you for a few moments before he says, “I’m Jackson.” 

You stare at him incredulously, “Why the fuck would I care?” 

Jackson just shrugs before making his way out of the room.

…

Jackson unties you to use the bathroom at one point. He’s surprisingly gentle as he rubs your raw wrists once they’re free. When he brings you back to the room, he doesn’t tie you up again and instead just lazily tells you to behave before leaving himself once more. 

You wait one minute, then two, and once you’re certain he’s gone, you dart towards the door. Of course it’s locked but this is your only chance for freedom. You scratch at the lock desperately, your nails breaking against the metal. 

It becomes obvious after a while that you’ll not get anywhere with this method and instead you tuck yourself against the wall and wait. Jackson is quite meticulous in his timed checks and he’s back again soon. You tense as you hear his footsteps echo down the concrete corridor outside your cell and you prepare yourself. As soon as he’s got the door open you’re making a mad dash past him. 

He lets out a curse as you manage to shove him aside and once he’s recovered, he’s chasing after you. He’s so much taller than you and he catches up to you quickly, throwing himself atop you and tackling you to the ground. Wrestling with your flailing limbs, he finally pins you. 

Jackson looks down at you with a feral grin, “Got you.”

Before you can reply, he’s surging forward and capturing your lips in a fiery kiss that has you gasping. Taking advantage, he forces his tongue into your mouth earning a strangled moan from you. He kisses like he’s been lost in the desert and you are the oasis that’s going to save his life. Almost unconsciously, you arch up into him and he grinds his hips down into yours. 

Tearing away, he pants above you with his eyes so dilated that the icy blue is only a thin sliver. 

“Are you going to behave now? Or am I going to have to get creative about how I tie you up?” There’s a definite innuendo tucked in those words because his hips tilt down again, his erection rubbing torturously against your core.  

You contemplate your options, testing his hold on your wrists. He doesn’t relent even an inch and instead tightens his grip to a painful degree. Biting your lip to hold in your whimpers, you nod reluctantly.

Jackson leans down and you think for a moment he’s going to kiss you again, but instead he nips at your ear and whispers huskily, “Good girl.” 

A shudder passes through you that makes Jackson chuckle. He climbs off of you and looks down at you with a hooded stare as you curl in on yourself and rub your bruised, aching wrists. 

“Get up,” He orders you, taking ahold of your upper arm roughly once you stand. He practically drags you back to your cell and shoves you into the room. He locks the door behind himself when he leaves and you slump dejectedly into the only chair. 

…

Jackson returns later, making you wait longer than normal and the way he smirks at you when you jump makes you grind your teeth. He’s the most insufferable man you’ve ever met and you tell him as much out loud. 

He just laughs and takes up his usual spot against the wall. He watches you as you watch him.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask. 

He just shrugs, “Good money.” 

He leaves at his usual time without saying anything more. 

…

You turn in your chair to face the door when Jackson returns. However, what you see in his hand causes you jump up in fear. He’s holding a wicked looking knife and he’s got this crazed look in his eyes. 

“You said that I’m not going to be killed,” you state as you rub your arms fretfully and back yourself as far away from him as you can. He follows after you slowly, circling you like a predator about to pounce. 

“I can change my mind if I like. It’s the benefit of being your own boss,” he says while darting forward and wrapping you in a bruising hug that pins your arms to your side. You let out a screech and kick your legs out, but it’s useless and he just hauls you across the room. 

He throws you down onto the floor and climbs on top of you. You manage to scratch him across the neck but it ends up being the only hit you get against him as he quickly subdues you just like he did in the hallway earlier. He had to abandon his knife to do it, though, so you count it as a victory. 

It also seems that your scratching has riled him up even more than before because he starts attacking your neck with fervent, biting kisses. 

He transfers one of your wrists to his other hand so that they’re both being pinned by the same one. This leaves him free to slip his hand up under your blouse, going right for your breasts. 

He pulls away from your neck, panting, “Fuck.” 

You’ve been on edge for hours, ever since he kissed you when you tried to escape. He must see this in your expression because a jackal grin stretches across his face and he yanks your shirt over your head, shoving your bra up along the way. He gives your right nipple a mean tweak that has you yelping and trying to wriggle away from him and he tuts at you. 

“You masturbate with your curtains open,” he tells you while running his hands down your torso and working on the zip of your skirt, “And when you play with yourself, you always pinch your nipples.” 

Blood rushes to your face in horror and embarrassment, “W-What?”

He’s methodical as he slowly works your skirt down your legs, leaving you in only your panties. 

“I had so much fun watching you. I even put the job off an extra week because I wanted to see you more,” Jackson is shameless as he admits this to you, his fingers creeping up the inside of your thigh towards your core. 

He hooks his fingers into the hem of your panties and yanks those off of you as well, leaving you bare and soaked before him. 

He stares down at you with a hooded gaze that makes your clit throb in anticipation. He doesn’t break that eye contact as he reaches down and unbuckles his belt and undoes his pants. 

“Are you going to be a good girl for me?” He asks as he pulls his cock out, his hand pumping up and down the considerable length lazily. You nod shyly, your legs spreading almost unconsciously in invitation. 

He smirks and descends onto you, capturing your mouth in another toe curling kiss. 

You can’t resist chasing Jackson’s kisses, your body arching up and your legs wrapping around his waist. He breaks the kiss with a chuckle, “What is it you want, hm? Tell me what you need.” 

Licking your bruised lips, you reply, “I want you.” 

Grabbing your face roughly he tuts, “Not good enough.” 

You take in a shaky breath, “I-I want you to fuck me.”

His face stretches into a sadistically pleased grin, “Good girl.” 

Without warning he’s pushing into you. 

Before you can make a noise, his hand is wrapping around your throat, squeezing tightly as he works himself into you, back and forth. It’s only when he’s fully seated, that he lets you gasp for breath, your eyes blurry with unshed tears. 

“Fuck, you look so sexy like this,” he sets both his hands on your waist, getting his grip good and tight, and then he’s fucking you. It’s hard and fast and too much, but fuck it feels good. You haven’t been fucked like this in ages- ever really if you think about it. No one has ever come close to Jackson. 

When you start to sneak your hand down your front towards your clit, he slaps you across your tits. You yelp and retreat, his smirk making you burn with rage and lust all at once. 

“‘Spent weeks watching you,” he grunts out between thrusts, “‘Knew it’d be a missed opportunity if I didn’t fuck you.” 

A bit of horror of your situation begins to creep back up your spine and you try to pull away from him. He doesn’t let you, though, and instead flips you onto your stomach, wrenching your hips up and pushing back into you at a bruising pace. He fits so much deeper like this, and your eyes roll back in your head in pleasure when he starts hitting that special spot inside of you. 

Your moans are loud and embarrassing because he chuckles every time he gets a particularly strung out one. 

“‘Think I oughta keep you like this. Just for me,” he rasps into your ear, his sweaty hair sticking to the back of your neck as he buries his face into your shoulder. 

He wraps himself around you like a snake, his hips not stopping their relentless rhythm even once. You can feel his balls smacking against your clit as he drives harder and deeper into you. 

“Are you going to cum for me?” He demands more than asks as he grips your face tightly in his hand, his other slipping down your body and finding your clit with unerring precision. 

You can only nod dumbly and submit to him entirely as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever known washes over you. Jackson lets out a loud groan as your cunt squeezes around him tightly, milking him in the most delectable way. 

You both lay there on the hard, concrete floor for a while, panting and shuddering through the aftershocks of your orgasms. 

“Yeah,” Jackson says, turning his head to look at you, “Definitely going to keep you.” 

[strangersatellites]

ask and you shall receive !! part two of tarot-verse !! read part one here !!

⛓️🪄🔮

“Robs, do you really think this is going to work?”

“Well normally I would say yes. It's pretty straight-forward and I don’t think you’re leaving a lot of room for misinterpretation. But at the same time, Eddie has been demonstrating some particularly impressive levels of obliviousness when it comes to the way you go all goo-goo eyes at him.”

Steve opens his mouth to dispute her claim, he does not go all goo-goo eyes at him, but gets cut off.

“That and the fact that he’s all in his head over a scenario he literally made up. So I don't know, it might be hopeless.”

Steve just blinks for a second.

“Wow. Thank you, Robin, for that very motivating pep talk.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I am feeling much more confident now, that's really great.”

She huffs on the other end of the line. “Well, I just mean that-”

He holds up a hand even though she can’t see him. “No, no. I got it.” He perks up at the sound of a door slamming in the driveway. “Hey, he’s here Robbie. I gotta go.”

Robin's screech has him pulling the phone away from his ear. “Good luck, dingus!”

“Thanks Robs. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

He hangs up and wipes his, now clammy, hands on the front of his jeans and psychs himself up.

“Come on Steve. Be cool.”

A musical knock that Steve would know anywhere sounds through the foyer and he has to tamp down the smile threatening to split his face. This is serious.

He swings open the door just as Eddie’s hand is poised to knock again and cuts him off before he can even start to speak.

“Okay. I know I asked you to come over so we could smoke and watch that movie you like but can I show you something first?”

Eddie’s eyebrows furrow but his smile doesn’t drop.

“Course, Stevie. Why so serious? What did you do, rob a bank?” He asks, shouldering his way past and making his way to the living room and hopping over the back of the couch.

Steve knows the moment Eddie sees them. His shoulders stiffen up and his breath catches. Steve hurries to placate.

“Hey, I know. I’m sorry just-” If he runs his hand through his hair again it's going to go flat but he can't break the habit. “Just let me show you?”

Eddie settles back into the couch and gives Steve a quick nod.

Steve takes a breath and grabs his stack of cards from the coffee table and settles on the other end of the couch.

Okay, Steve. Just like you rehearsed.

Another deep breath.

“Two summers ago Robin told me she wanted to learn how to read tarot. She bought a deck and tried to learn on her own, but she had a hard time memorizing what all of them meant.”

Eddie huffs a quiet laugh. “No shit. Shit’s hard.”

Steve laughs too. “Yeah, I know that now. But, she had a hard time with it so I told her I would learn and help her practice. And I did. And she got really good at it and she brought them everywhere and she did readings for people constantly. But then she eventually got bored and stopped.”

Eddie shifts and uncrosses his arms. Finally looks less like he’s ready to bolt.

“What, do you just have like a rolodex of stuff you’ve learned for Robin that she doesn’t care about anymore?”

“I think of it more like an old toybox.” This gets a laugh out of Eddie. “But this one– this one stuck with me. I forgot about it for a while but a while back, a few days pre-vecna oddly enough, I pulled a reading for myself and I wanted to show you.”

Eddie’s eyes dart between his own for a beat. He tilts his head a bit.

“I would love to see it, Stevie. But I’m not understanding what was so urgent about this. I thought it was gonna be about the whole,” he waves his hand around while he talks, “you watching me make myself look stupid the other day.”

Steve hates the dejected tone his voice has taken on behind his false bravado.

“It is! I mean, I’ve never thought you looked stupid. But, I mean I kind of goaded you into it, just– just let me talk you through this and I promise it’ll all make sense.”

Eddie sits back again. “Okay sweetheart. Wow me.”

Steve takes a deep breath because this part is a bit like baring his soul to Eddie.

“So when I pulled this reading. I was feeling really confused about what was in store for me. I decided to dust off my cards and see what happened.”

He pulls four cards right off the top of the deck and lays them out face down. Flips the first one.

Judgement.

“I got judgement first. Now, I know you know what it means, but I’m going to tell you my interpretation.”

When Steve looks back up at him, Eddie’s got his chin propped in his hand and the stars back in his eyes.

“Judgement told me to stop looking for things in the same places I’d always looked. That I should look somewhere different. Now granted I didn’t know what that meant yet, but it was just the start.”

Flips the second card.

The Moon.

“You would think that maybe I would’ve taken the hint with this one. It’s the one that tells you, ‘Hey! Stop lying to yourself! Listen to your intuition!’ But still I didn’t know what that was supposed to mean either.”

He skips ahead and flips the last card and Eddie looks confused and goes to flip the third card himself.

“Call me crazy, Stevie, but I think you skipped one.”

Steve bats his hand away.

“Shut up. I know that, but there’s an order to this story.”

Eddie puts his hands up in a gesture of innocence and Steve taps the fourth card.

The Lovers.

“This one made me finally start to piece this one together. Maybe I needed to start looking for a different type of girl, ya know? Clearly I was gonna fall in love and I needed to start looking in new places for whoever it was.”

He brings his eyes up to meet Eddie’s.

“Maybe a farmer’s market.”

Eddie throws his head back in a laugh.

“But this last card had me so confused because it didn’t fit into this lineup at all. In my experience, when a card doesn’t really fit, it might need to be read more literally. And I found out later that this one was meant to be taken very literally. Like, very.”

He flips the final card.

The Devil.

“Because a few days later, I met you.”

Eddie squints at him, but he's smiling.

“That feels like an insult, babe.”

Steve can literally feel his cheeks flush at Eddie’s effortless flirting.

“Okay, well I can only think of one person who was accused of devil-worship in this town, so.”

“That’s fair,” Eddie nods.

“And I had this stupid big crush on you before I even remembered the reading. When I did it got so much worse. And then, last weekend, I saw your cards and I thought it would be fun to see what kind of reading you would pull for me. Thought maybe that would be my chance to tell you how I felt. I was going to wait for you to tell me about whatever you pulled and then tell you I knew that already.”

Eddie shifts to sling an arm around Steve’s shoulder and lets him finish.

“But then I saw those cards and I knew you were making stuff up and I thought it was because you didn't want it to be you.”

Eddie’s face falls for a second before Steve bumps their noses together.

“But then you were being so weird at the farmer’s market so I talked to Robs about it and she told me we're both stupid.”

Steve feels more than he hears Eddie’s laugh.

“I would have to agree with Birdie on that one. Steve, has anybody ever told you you have an insane poker face?”

Steve hides his face and laughs.

“No, that's a new one.”

Eddie puts on his most dramatic voice again.

“Well allow me to be the first. Because that was a phenomenal performance. I had no idea that you knew I was talking out of my ass.”

“Well you do that a lot anyway, so.”

Eddie squawks and shoves Steve to fall backwards until he’s in his space, looking down with a blinding smile.

“So, cards tell you anything about a first date?”

Steve’s hands settle around Eddie’s waist and his eyes dart around his face.

“We could ask. But I can think of a better way to spend our time.”

Eddie bends down and nips at the side of Steve’s jaw, hums.

“Yeah? Hm. I think it might be worth an ask.”

Steve huffs and brings his his hands to either side of his face to tug him down.

“Shut up.”

Eddie’s laughing the first time their lips meet.

He bites and tugs at Steve’s bottom lip to get his attention.

“I can’t believe you called me the devil.”

Steve’s eyes are hazy and his smile lazy.

“Yeah but you’re my devil.”

Eddie laughs and leans down to peck at the corner of his mouth.

“And you’re my magician.”

⛓️🪄🔮

tag list: @henderdads, @mightbeasleep, @gothbat99, @hotluncheddie, @steddie-there, @thefreakandthehair, @steddieasitgoes, @gayngerthings, @grapefruitgalaxy, @orangeandthefairroadkill, @hardboiledleggs, @corrodedcoughin, @punkharringtxn, @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy, @ottokajiyehett, @toobluebrunette, @e0509, @booksandsience, @lohthus, @chaoticlovingdreamer, @4nemo1egend, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @adelicioustragedy, @wearelosersyoudumbfuck, @lightwoodbanethings, @trikigirl271, @initforthereadz, @dontwasteyourchances (if you got skipped or added, my apologies🫶🏼)

[piratefishmama]

Crossing The Line | Part 7

Again. Right. Okay. Again, Kas wanted him to say it again. Cool. Definitely wasn’t high key anxiety inducing to do it the first time. Robin was right, straight from wooed to the apartment? Probably not going to happen, he was super overestimating his level of game.

He had no game. None, nada, zip, zilch, bupkis.

He almost bailed, almost bolted with his tail between his legs but no, no he’d be brave, sure this man was kind of an asshole to him and honestly it may be a bad idea because what if he was still an asshole, like… what if he was just constantly an asshole, like… toxic kind of asshole. He had to hope though, someone that pretty couldn’t be awful, right? In what universe would that be fair?

“Uh… you, me, dinner? Tonight maybe? Or tomorrow if that’s better. Or… or y’know, any day this week, I’m flexible.”

“Why?” The guy practically choked, his grip on the rolling pin loosening a little. “I mean—why me?” Why him? Why him? God why him? Why the nerdy metalhead whose name he didn’t even know? Why the guy who’d spent a whole week bitching him out over social media over an experiment? Steve didn’t know.

He had no idea! He didn’t know why he’d fallen so hard so fast, why he’d spent hours just watching those talented fingers dance along the neck of that beautiful warlock, he had no idea, Steve was just following the dopamine and Kas seemed to be an endless supply of it for him.

“Uhm, I like you?”

“You don’t even know me, dude. In fact, the only knowledge you have of me is that I bitched you out for a week.” True, he didn’t seem to be gearing up to apologise for that either. The anxiety was only growing by the second, oh no. He felt so small all of a sudden, so stupid, of course it was stupid, he never should have come. “And now you come and what… hunt me down at work and ask me out? That’s so fuckin weird an I’m—"

“Grass, bitch, and I’m the mower!!” Steve had to spin round fast just to catch Robin as she stormed in there having been listening close by the door, the grip on that rolling pin tightened again.

“Jesus H. Christ!” The rolling pin poised to launch.

“Robin, no!”

“No he’s being mean again! I’m not having it! You spent a whole week just lying there mooning over this fucking idiot’s hands for crying out loud even when he was being a dick to you for something you only did for fun and now we’ve come all this way and he’s being mean in person and I’m not having it, I refuse, lemme at him!” Honestly ‘Kas’ was lucky Steve was as strong as he was, Robin would have gotten out of that hold easy if he were any weaker.

“Mean?! I’m being HONEST, you psycho!”

“Motherfucker, I’ll show you psych—"

“ROBIN!” She stopped struggling. Steve rarely raised his voice, honestly the only time he ever raised his voice was when the kids were involved. When pushy labels or producers tried shit with his kids, that was the only time Steve ever raised his voice. Also that one brief stint in acting where the script demanded it. “Go back outside.”

“But—”

“Go, i’m a grown man, I can fight my own battles, now go back out there.” His voice back to its usual soft tone, she shot the other man a sharp glare before returning back through the swinging door “go sit down! Away from the door!”

“FINE!” She’d have only lingered behind that door again if he hadn’t told her not to. Steve kept an eye on the door for a moment, just in case, before turning back to Kas, his shoulders slumping as a deep sigh escaped him at the sight. The poor guy was backed right into that little gap, rolling pin clutched tight to his chest, this was a bad idea, he looked so freaked.

“I’m sorry.” Steve breathed softly. “I’m sorry for Robin, she’s uh—she’s protective, and um, for turning up out of nowhere, for scaring you, I really didn’t mean to turn up at your work, this was… this was hugely by a weird amount of chance,I just… I was going to go to your gig? We even bought clothes for it but uhm… shit, I should have just... I dunno, dm’d you or something, it would have been easier.” Probably wouldn’t have wasted the money on the flights or the apartment that way, Kas could have just rejected him over DM! “And uh… I’m not stupid, like… I know I don’t know you, I still don’t know your actual name, or if you even like guys, I wasn’t assuming just… hoping, but… I dunno, I was hoping at dinner I could get to know you an y’know… we’d hit it off despite our obvious differences in musical preferences…” maybe they could have been friends if nothing else.

The silence drew on for a moment, Steve had said his piece, and Eddie was clearly processing it, eyes flitting, micro expressions creasing his brow, his jaw shifting in a way that made it obvious that he was chewing on the inside of his cheek, and the grip on the rolling pin had relaxed again.

“…You were going to come to my gig?”

“Mmhm, Tuesday 9pm, right? Robin forced me to get different clothes because what I was going to wear probably wouldn’t have cut it.”

“What were you going to wear?”

“You’ll mock me.”

“I won’t.”

“You will”

“I promise I won’t.”

“…Promise?”

“Scouts honour.” He even put the rolling pin down to do the little hand gesture. Cute, Steve thought to himself.

“I’m dubious of your history of boy scoutery” he could see the quirk of a lip, just a little ghost of a smile at the corner of Kas’s lips “but fine, okay, I’ll trust you to be gentle, I have this really nice grey sweater vest, and I was gonna put a—” his words cut short by the snort of a laugh that bubbled from his ridiculous crush “You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

“Sweetheart, I said I wouldn’t mock, I said nothing about laughing” sweetheart, sweetheart, sweetheart— moving on. “A sweater vest at a metal gig? Cute.” The way his voice dipped? Unfair on every level.

Every single goddamn level.

“Y-yes well, now I have a new outfit, so you won’t get to see the sweater vest.”

“Oh, oh no” Kas clutched his hand to his chest as if pained “the pain! Jail for you, jail for one hundred years, you’ve hurt me so very deeply. Jail for the pretty boy.” Pretty boy? Steve felt those invasive little bastard butterflies kick up a flurry in his chest, pretty boy? “I really won’t ever get to see the sweater vest? That’s just a goddamn travesty, truly” it sounded sarcastic but honestly it also didn’t. It was a weird mix, like he was taking the piss but also being genuinely honest. “Worst punishment you could give me, no sweater vest for Eddie.”

Eddie.

“No sweater vest for Eddie” Steve parroted with a smile so full of sunshine warmth that Eddie couldn’t stop himself from mirroring it. Maybe… maybe it wasn’t a lost cause then… maybe he could still make this work maybe— “So… uhm… dinner?” Maybe he wouldn’t get shot down if he asked again.

“…Ask me again after the gig if you enjoy the show.” Oh the hopes, they were HIGH, he knew he’d like the show! He knew he would! “Now, about that coffee you and your menace to society came in for.”

“Fuckin heard that you moms' basement dwelling bitch baby!!”

“She seems lovely.” Steve only let out a quiet snrk of a laugh.

Part 9

[anxiously-going]

Consider with me for a moment an AU:

l. Leonard McCoy was one of several doctors pulled from bases outside San Fran to go on the Tarsus IV rescue mission.

l. (He kicks in Pike’s door demanding what the heck he thinks he’s doing recommending him for a mission like this, he’s fresh out of the Academy, he’s supposed to be a Earth based doctor, that was the agreement. Pike reminds him that he was top of his Psych class and he did exceptionally well working with trauma patients during his residency and that’s exactly the sort of doctors they need for this mission.)

l. So off he goes thinking he’s completely unprepared for any of this, and when they touch down he finds out that no one was prepared for any of this.

l. He’s just about ready to report to the CMO heading up the operation when he sees couple of red shirts wrestling with scrawny kid that couldn’t possibly be more than maybe fifteen and any thought of chain of command is gone.

l. He marches over and demands for the kid to be let go, there’s an argument and complaints of being bite, but as far as Leonard is concerned, he deserved to get bit, and finally they let the kid go.

l. Len catches him before he can bolt again, but he doesn’t try to restrain him, he just keeps him blocked off till he can get kid calmed down and talking.

l. His name is Tom.

l. “Can you tell me why you keep tryin’a take off, Tom?”

l. “JT’s still out there!”

l. That’s all Len needs to here before he’s running after this kid, hoping it’s not to late to get to Tom’s friend.

l. They get to a cave and Tom asks him to wait outside. Len doesn’t like it, but he agrees, the last thing he wants to do is make this kid more nervous. He’s trying to build up some trust with him and that goes both ways.

l. He can hear two quiet voices arguing and after a minute another kid comes out.

l. He’s maybe a year older than Tom and if Tom was scrawny then this kid was flat out emaciated.

l. “I’m JT,” he says with a faux confidence that might have been believable if he wasn’t trembling so badly. “Tom says your with Starfleet and that you’re hear to take us back to earth.”

l. “That’s right. I’m Doctor Leonard McCoy, I serve in a base in Atlanta, Georgia back on earth.” Len keeps a professional tone, trying to let JT lead the conversation in hopes of getting him to come back to base.

l. “Do you have any identification?”

l. And Len obliges him.

l. JT stares at is, gnawing anxiously on his lower lip, conflict clear on his face.

l. And Len takes a risk. “Kid,” he says gently, “I just wanna help you and your friend get home.”

l. “What about Kodos?”

l. “I heard they found a body. I don’t know if they’ve confirmed the identity, but there was a body where he was last known to be,” Len answers honestly, still not sure if the kid trusts him, but hoping he will.

l. “Wait here.” JT goes back in the cave and comes out with eight other children, Tom among them, none of them older than JT, and the youngest maybe four, he carries on his hip.

l. Len guides them back to camp, JT keeps a watchful eye the whole time.

l. Everyone is immediately on them when they get, a few of the kids go running to adults they recognize, and when someone rushes at JT and the kid pulls the younger boy closer to him with a warning snarl Len jumps in, standing between the officer and JT.

l. Len diffuses yet another confrontation and begins wondering when he became a negotiator. He has no idea what he’s doing. He’s a doctor for crying out loud!

l. Fast forward a bit and literally no one can keep a handle on JT, except for Len who seems to be the only person who understands that this is a scared kid and not a feral cat.

[meshaamem-li]

content I CONSUMED

idk this is just a list of shit I watched or played and stuff, ignore this I just like making lists.

rankings (my rankings are subjective and based on how much impact that thing had on my psyche, don't take it too seriously):

S A B C D F

(explanation about the rankings: B is good, C is fine, D is meh and F is bad, A is for "wow I really like this" and S is for "absolutely obsessed")

ANIME:

a silent voice

aggretsuko

assassination classroom

attack on titan

BNA: brand new animal

carole and teusday

darling in the franxx

death note

death parade

dungeon meshi

evangelion

fairy tail

full metal alchemist

full metal alchemist brotherhood

free

haikyuu

high-rise invasion

hunter x hunter

jujutsu kaisen

Komi can't communicate

kotaro lives alone

kuroko no basuke

madoka magica

Magical Girl Raising Project

my hero academia

noragami

ouran highschool host club

scott pilgrim takes off

soul eater

spy x family

stars align

summertime rendering

the disastrous life of saiki k

your lie in april

BOOKS:

percy jackson

CARTOONS:

arcane

avatar

back in the barnyard

bee and puppycat

big hero 6 the series

bojack horseman

carmen sandiego

danny phantom

ducktales 2017

fairly OddParents

glitch techs

gravity falls

hazbin hotel

helluva boss

hilda

how to train your dragon (the tv series)

infinity train

inside job

kim possible

kipo

lackadaisy

miraculous ladybug

murder drones

my little pony

Phineas and Ferb

rick and morty

rise of the tmnt

scooby doo mystery incorporated

She-Ra

steven universe

tangled the series

teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012

the amazing digital circus

the legend of korra

the owl house

the penguins of Madagascar

velma

wander over yonder

GAMES:

ace attorney

deltarune

detroit become human

genshin impact

hollow knight

mystic messenger

omori

project sekai

undertale

underworld office (small mobile game)

LIVE ACTION SHOWS:

BBC sherlock

merlin

the good place

queen's gambit

הפיג'מות

MOVIES:

101 dalmatians

a goofy movie

aladin

arrietty

atlantis

bambi

beauty and the beast

bee movie

big hero 6

bolt

brave

captain underpants

cars

cinderella

coco

cruella (I'm mad at how good it was)

deadpool

encanto

everything everywhere all at once

finding nemo

frozen

hercules

Howl's moving castle

how to train your dragon

inside out

kiki's delivery service

klaus

kong fu panda

lilo & stitch

marvel movies till endgame

meet the Robinsons

megamind

moana

monsters inc

mr. peabody & sherman

mulan

mune guardian of the moon

my neighbor totoro

nimona

onward

peter pan

pinocchio

princess mononoke

puss in boots

puss in boots the last wish

ratatouille

rise of the guardians

road to el dorado

robots

scary movie

scott pilgrim vs the world

shrek

sleeping beauty

snow white

spider man into/across the spiderverse

spirited away

star wars (original trilogy)

star wars (prequels)

tangled

the emperor's new groove

the fox and the hound

the hunchback of notre dame

the incredibles

the lion king

the little mermaid

the mitchells vs the machines

the nightmare before Christmas

the prince of Egypt

the princess and the frog

the son of bigfoot

the sword in the stone

toy story

treasure planet

up

wall-e

whisper of the heart

wreck it Ralph

zootopia

OTHER:

hermitcraft

sanders sides

here's my watchlist, feel free to suggest me stuff!

[deer-fic-fics]

Pavlov’d

Info: gn reader, gn Harper

CW: DoL-typical things. Non-con, dub-con, hypnotism/mental conditioning, medical malpractice, medical setting, medications/pills

There are many sounds in a psych ward.

Crying, yelling, whispering. Old air conditioning units rattling. Doors and wheels of carts in the hallways squeaking. Maybe mice in the walls, too.

Silence is rarer. Sometimes, when the electrical hum of the lights and cooling faded, you’d hold your breath just to get a taste of that blessed quiet that so often eluded you. You were doing just that, when something caught your ear that made you sit straight up and curl into yourself.

Footsteps. Not soft, padded ones like you’d hear from your fellow sock-footed inmates. Fancy dress shoes, clicking down the linoleum— an oxblood pair, always polished to a pristine shine and burned into your mind’s eye. After all, when the owner’s gaze was too heavy, too intense, you’d look down, watch them tap their foot rhythmically, and daydream about ruining those perfect shoes with paint, mud, blood, spit. With each step, there’s a jingle of keys, that lanyard around their neck. Mocking you, begging you to try strangling them with it.

A closer jingle of keys sends shivers racing down your spine, your limbs, heat coiling in your gut against your will. Tingles race over your skin as Harper opens the door and smiles placidly at you. Their eyes roam over you, drinking in every detail. You curl up tighter, wishing your flimsy hospital gown provided a little more coverage.

“No need to be so tense,” Harper hums, stepping closer to your sorry excuse for a bed. “It’s not good for you, you know. All that adrenaline.”

You tear your gaze from theirs to bury your face in your arms. Their smile lingers in your mind’s eye, twisting and stretching monstrously.

“Here.” Harper rattles a pill bottle.

The sound echoes in your mind. Your mouth grows dry, an uncomfortable heat growing between your legs. Your eyes snap back to his, brought back to reality, but— such a dizzying reality. Your head spins with heat.

Harper rattles the bottle again.

You shift, slowly unfurling your body and leaning closer, opening your mouth— and unconsciously, spreading your legs a bit too. “Good,” Harper croons. They place three pills on your tongue, gloved fingers lingering near your lips a bit longer than necessary. Harper takes a small cup of water from your bedside table— bolted to the floor, of course— and pours it into your mouth, making sure you swallow every last drop.

You don’t— a drip forms at the corner of your mouth. Harper’s jaw clenches at the sudden strain on their self-control. They could just lean in, lick it up. You wouldn’t stop them. You couldn’t stop them. Harper’s train of thought is interrupted by you crawling closer, tentatively placing a hand on their chest, then crawling closer still to press your cheek to their chest too, looking up at them with that hazy expression they loved so.

“Doctor?” Your voice, so meek and pleading, sends shivers racing down their spine. “Please…”

[brain-amoeba]

hiii, medic literally getting turned on while he’s healing you cause you’re whimpering and moaning in pain cuz ur injured 🤭🤭

anon cinna ☕️!!

i can be normal about this request i canbe normal i can b //foaming at the mouth

Katze und Maus (Medic x Reader) part 1/?

Your memory of the mission and how exactly you got your injuries escaped you. You felt as if your brain would leak right out of your ears if you thought about it too hard. Rather than add to the torture you've endured thus far, you buried the thought back in your mind. You figured it would creep back into your psyche again at some point, and probably at the absolute worst time to boot. Soon enough, the sound of your own thoughts were drowned out by sharp, approaching footsteps causing you to instinctively turn your head to the source of the noise. You were greeted by Medic, whom smiled back at you a little too innocently. Sheepishly, you return his greeting with a small wave, and resumed your previous position on the examination table. You watched in anticipation as Medic hummed to himself while gathering his necessary instruments, and ensured the proper rigging of the Medigun. As your eyes met, the triumphant device unrelentingly stared back down at you from its mount. As you zoned out while peering into the barrel of the Medigun, dizziness and disorientation from blood loss, as well as the sheer pain of your injuries began making themselves apparent.

An echoing, metallic "thud" signaling your now slouched over body had met the examination table prompted Medic to your side almost immediately. Medic hastily propped you back up and made work to fasten your neck with a strap to ensure your head didn't drop to your side and possibly injure your neck. After securing you in place, Medic repeatedly slapped a gloved hand against your cheek in a prevailing attempt to wake you. You were startled out of your unconsciousness and soon felt the painful restriction around your neck as it abruptly interrupted your flailing resistance. Medic looked down at you fondly despite your apprehension. "Calm down, you. Would you rather I left you limp with a broken neck?" The doctor questioned, his tone pitched with slight annoyance. You remained silent, staring up at him with pleading eyes as your consciousness reminded you of the bloodied, painful state your body was in-- a deep gash in your side, numerous lacerations on your limbs, and a fractured ankle.

Ouchies.

Medic's annoyed expression quickly softened upon meeting his gaze with yours, and awkwardly cleared his throat before beginning his procedures. Despite his cautious and deliberate touch, the gravity of your injuries only heightened your sensitivities. As the German doctor took your injured ankle in his grasp, you couldn't help but cry out a pathetic whimper from the bolt of agony that shot through your nerves. Your breathing became labored and nervous beads of sweat adorned your forehead like sickly jewels. Medic, of course, was simply enamored with your current state. To him, your cries of pain were as beautiful a melody as that of an operatic aria. Medic quickly snapped back to his duties, and finished rigging your ankle into a stirrup to not only elevate it, but to keep it out of the way of your remaining injuries. The pain of no longer having Medic's firm yet gentle grasp to offset the weight of gravity upon your ankle, especially in a stirrup, caused you to wince yet again, still as vocal as last time. "Doctor…a-are you sure you can't like…put me under or something?" You asked desperately. You were only able to hoarsely choke out a few words at a time between shallow breaths. Medic, whose face was now flushed, spoke with his back turned to you. "Nein, schatz. The procedures will not be intensive and will therefore not require the use of typical anesthesia. Es tut mir leid, maus*." His tone was professional, but the growing erection straining against the fabric of his trousers was anything but. "Be a good little mäuschen and hold still, ja?" He now turned to face you with surgical grade instruments in hand. The menacing gleam of steel taunted you as he began dislodging shrapnel from your open wounds. With each scrap and bullet that was removed, you answered with whines, desperate cries, and tears wetting your face. Medic attempted to conceal his arousal by retaining a neutral exterior, but the way his usual steadied precision seemed to elude him today left you wondering.

Now, you always knew that Medic was a little off his rocker, but figured that came with the territory of such genius. However, in spite of your less-than-lucid state, you were still able to pick up on the irregularities of your doctor's behavior. The sharp inhales every time you winced, the light flush that colored his cheeks, and the weird stiffness with which he moved, as if hiding something… Surely the sight of blood wasn't causing him to act this way, right? He is a doctor after all. The clinking of the discarded shrapnel into a metal dish pulled you from your own thoughts and you soon made eye contact with Medic again. "A-are we done yet…?" You ask meekly. Medic scoffed in response. "Done? Mäuschen, I've just barely started. All I've done is remove the debris from your wounds. Now the real treatment begins!" Medic chuckled, a hint of mania beneath his jovial exterior. He left you alone momentarily to remove his soiled gloves and wash his hands. In his absence, you couldn't help but watch his weird, rigid gait while he made his way to the sink and giggled to yourself. "Why is he walking like that? He wasn't even out in the field today, so it can't be an injury." You thought to yourself.

Your naivety was endearing, honestly. As he approached, you could have sworn you noticed a strange bulge. You quickly darted your gaze back to the wall as your face burned with embarrassment. You didn't realize just how intensely you were staring at your practitioner's groin, but he in fact did. "Hm? Something catch your eye, maus?" His teasing only drove the knife of humiliation in you further. Before you could defend yourself (Hi, I'm Saul Goodman, did you know that you have rights?) Medic cut the fabric of your shirt to reveal the bloodied gash that interrupted the otherwise supple flesh of your abdomen. The chill of sterility and sudden pressure from Medic's gloved hand upon you elicited yet another pathetic whimper. "Oh, mäuschen, the things you do to me when you sound so helpless!" He mused, squeezing your wound in attempt to get another cry out of you. Fat tears rolled down your cheeks as you wailed in agony, blood spurting from the wound in response. Your scarlet life force stained Medic's arms and face, and you swore you witnessed him lick his lips to taste you. "Mein gott, I almost don't want to fix you up. You're so beautiful just like this…" Medic dabbed up the fresh blood with cloth, and did the same to the rest of your open wounds. "…But we need you in working order on the battlefield, ja? Plus…" He closed the distance between the two of you, his face mere centimeters from your own. He began to remove the strap that once restrained your neck, whispering in your ear while doing so, "…I wouldn't get to hear the sweet music of mein geliebt vogel if you were dead, anyway!" The proximity between Medic and yourself left smears of your own blood on your face--and though you've suffered many injuries and were no stranger to gore, in this context you shuddered.

(* "I'm sorry, mouse".)

[tallowandport]

Me, bolting up from my bed with a wild glint in my eye and shouting, "I need to re-watch 'Psych' IMMEDIATELY!"

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: Disqualified

The sun was relentless that afternoon, glaring down like a stern instructor on the obstacle course that stretched torturously across the field. The ground baked underfoot, and the air vibrated with the hum of excited, nervous energy from the crowd of cadets. They shuffled and jostled, each buzzing with the kind of restless energy that only the promise of ice cream could bring to such a disciplined group.

John, the eternal underdog with a mop of hair too unruly for military standards, was busy psyching himself up. His sneakers were dusty, his palms sweaty, and his heart thudded like a drum in his chest as he eyed the obstacle course with a mix of dread and determination.

"Watch the runt do his turtle sprint!" jeered one of the older cadets, a lanky boy with a mean streak and a sharper tongue.

"Yeah, Johnny, don’t trip on your shoelaces!" another chimed in, laughter rippling through the group.

John’s cheeks burned, but he pressed his lips together, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing him ruffled. When the whistle shrieked through the air, it was like a gunshot to his senses. He bolted, less graceful than he wanted, his movements all elbows and knees.

The course was a beast. Ropes that burned, walls that loomed like mountains, and beams narrow enough to make a tightrope walker second-guess their profession. John lagged, his limbs not quite long enough, his strides not quite quick enough. The other cadets were blurs of motion ahead of him, agile and sure.

In a moment of sheer desperation—half genius, half madcap—John’s eyes snagged on a rock lying traitorously close to his path. Without a full thought, he scooped it up and lobbed it at the bell that hung mockingly at the finish line. The throw was wild, desperate, and incredibly... on target. The clang was a beautiful, terrible sound.

"I did it!" John yelled, his voice cracking with a mix of triumph and disbelief.The course fell eerily silent for a heartbeat—then erupted. "Cheater!" "Did you see that?" "He didn’t even finish!"

Chief Petty Officer Mendez was upon him in moments, his face as hard as the rock John had thrown. "Cadet 117," he began, his voice cold enough to chill the sweat on John’s back, "that was unauthorized use of external materials. You’re disqualified."

"But, sir, I—" John started, the protest weak even to his own ears.

"There are rules, Cadet. You failed to abide by them."Disqualified. The word hung in the air heavier than the humidity. As Mendez walked away, the other cadets didn’t hold back. "Nice throw, Johnny! Too bad throwing rocks isn’t part of the course!" one called out, followed by a chorus of laughter.

"Guess you really rocked that bell, huh?" another added, snickering.

John’s victory, brief and sweet, curdled into something bitter. He wandered off to the side of the field, away from the mockery and the mirth of ice cream being enjoyed. Sitting on a chunk of concrete, he dug his hands into his hair, pulling at the strands as if he could tug away the day’s humiliation.

As the shadows lengthened and the laughter around him faded to a dull echo, John muttered to himself, "Next time, I'll win. No rocks. Just me." His voice was thick, laden with the unshed tears of frustration and the sharp, jagged edge of learning that sometimes, no matter how clever or desperate, shortcuts only cut you short.