#but the last thing I did with them was angst

[xenteaart]

the hard way

pairing: vampire!chris x to be vampire!reader genre/warnings: dark romance, mean chris, angst? kinda dead dove, mentions of death, blood and a lil gore (not too graphic tho imo), it's okay in the end??? and they're in love plot: reader is getting turned into a vampire and it's not as cool as she imagined author’s note: obvsly heavily inspired by railway and that SPITTING SCENE. idk it's prolly gonna flop but i wanted to picture that process and a not so hot side of it

“no.” “why not?!” “because i told you so a million times already. we’re not discussing this.” chris spits out and furrows, growing more agitated with each passing second.

“what, you don’t want me to be equal to you?” you ponder desperately while your mind searches for any, any reason at all as to why chris won’t turn you. it’s been getting to you for the last couple of months, and you’re sure you’ve gone through every possible explanation your troubled brain could come up with: he doesn’t love you. he doesn’t wanna spend eternity with you. or maybe it’s a power thing. or, or, or...? this endless cycle of worry and uncertainty has been keeping you on edge for way too long to think clearly now. “gosh, it has nothing to do with equality,” he rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “what is it then?” “drop it.” you snap. “we’ll have to find out the hard way, then.”

you grab the nearest kitchen knife, and it turns out to be the one you use for cutting meat, a chef’s knife as they call it. how fitting. chris barely has enough time to catch up with your madness infused impulse, and when he turns his gaze back to you, the knife is already deep in your guts.

you thought it was gonna be romantic or somewhat dramatic at least. something from the movies where he sinks his vampire teeth into your neck, and just like magic — your eyes flash bright red, announcing the beginning of a new life.

“you dumb bitch,” he exhales shakily and somehow manages to catch you in time because the sharp pain in your stomach makes you lose your balance instantly. you’re still bitter and angry in the heat of the argument and you expect him to be the same way, but when you glance up, chris looks nothing but panicked. “that’s a new look on him,” you think, and it confuses you.

chris growls and sinks to his knees, carefully holding you and trying to move as fast as possible. what you don’t know is that turning can only be done in around thirty seconds since fatal injury. that might explain the rushing and chris’s pure bambi eyes panic but your consciousness is already starting to drift away to hold onto that train of thought.

chris bites into his wrist with unmasked fury, tearing and ripping his own veins even though using a knife would have been much cleaner. probably less painful, too. “swallow. now! come on, don’t you fall asleep on me now, focus!” he grabs your face and presses hard on the jaw joints, making you open your mouth like a puppet doll.

the sickly metallic taste of your own blood at the back of your throat from the internal bleeding mixes up with chris’s thick blood that he generously spits into your mouth, and you want to throw up. your head feels dizzy as your eyelids are getting heavier, your hearing suddenly fails completely as if someone turned the volume down from ten to zero. limbs are falling weak, and the pins and needles in them are so, so far from pleasant.

the thing about turning is... you actually have to die first. be fully, completely gone to be able to come back changed and corrupted, turned to the extent of your DNA having been violently rewritten. that you did not think through enough. the muscles in your throat contract almost on reflex, swallowing and gagging on the gooey salty substance, making your chest heave while coughing strangles you further. the tingles and nausea are so overwhelming and all consuming you actually catch yourself thinking dying would be a relief now. and then it follows as you wished.

you doze off for god knows how long but, by the looks of it, it can’t have been more than a few minutes because as you regain consciousness, chris is still looming over you, his own blood fresh on his lips. he’s blurry, though, everything is.

“come on, suck on me. c’mon, baby, there we go,” he coos as he brings his wrist to your lips, forcefully pressing it into your mouth and leaving you with little to no choice. the phrasing, unlike usual, doesn’t sound dirty or hot now, more like a life-saving command while you’re still so out it. it feels good, though, chris’s blood.

it doesn’t taste so metallic and gross anymore, and the texture feels almost soothing on your dry throat, like hot honey milk on a friday evening. suck, gulp, suck, gulp, suck, it almost lulls you back into serenity, some primal instinct of being attached to your only life line, finding comfort in someone’s warmth and touch and taste.

you wonder how much you’ve drunk already and whether chris will have anything left but you’re so, so thirsty you can’t even bring yourself to care.

what finally makes you stop is the sudden sharp ache in your gums. it feels so piercing the aftershocks are almost reaching your brain and eye sockets, and as you feel your old teeth fall out, a pair of longer fangs cuts through and settles into the upper teeth row. hot tears are stinging your eyes and you whine like a wounded deer, still unable to speak properly. it’s all too much, and you start to regret what you’ve done, and maybe, just maybe that’s why chris so passionately refused to put you through it. this kind of hunger and the animalistic, blood thirst driven rage were never something he wanted to inflict upon you.

your entire body is shaking but it’s not really a fearful tremor, more like restlessness, a new sort of “itch” somewhere deep, deep inside that you’ve never experienced before, the feeling so intense and soul wrenching you simply can’t disobey it. it makes you want to jump up and run.

“don’t worry, i’ll teach you how to handle it.” chris cups your face after taking off his leather gloves so you can feel the comfort of his actual skin. the touch is calming, but barely enough compared to that growing desire and need to satisfy the itch. “you stupid crazy cunt, why do you never listen,” he whispers into your forehead, his lips lightly brushing over your cold sweat covered skin, as he holds you closer, squeezing you against his chest in a protective manner, though the real danger to yourself is now planted within you.

[4milly]

childish - jey u.

parings: manipulative!jey uso x black!reader

warnings: angst, use of n word, cursing, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, jey being an asshole is my fav sorry, cream pie, shower sex, manipulative jey, impregnation, dacryphilia, dumbification (if you squint),

word count: 3.9k (I BEEN GONE I WANTED TO GIVE YALL SOME)

you make me so mad, but i just come right back. it’s like i can’t get over you…

the music blasting through the speakers was enough to tune out the sound of your phone ringing...for nearly the 100th time. sexy redd and a bottle of casamigos mixed together was good enough to take your mind off things, not erase them.

jey called. than he called again. and again. and againnnn. he was doing all he could to reach you. he could play stupid all he fucking wanted too, he knew what the fuck he did. minus the arguing all day—for the last year—, jacob going live on instagram with them in the club last night was the straw that broke the camels back.

"imma head to bed though, ma. my damn head is pounding against my skull and shit" he muttered through the phone on facetime last night.

the call ended with the two of you kissing the screen on some clingy teenager bullshit. you were all googly eyed at him, just completely enamored. your man, your man, your man...all to get a live sent to you 45 minutes later of him in the club with some groupie ass bitch grinding on his lap and his hands on her hips.

all day you were going back and forth, him wanting to know what the problem is and you dodging it, making shady subliminal posts on the gram instead.

"bitch, get out your fucking head! fuck that nigga! he gone feel you this time!" you snapped out of your thoughts hearing lana, your best friend. she was kind enough to round up all the girls, give you her most see through and shortest outfit, do your hair, and makeup. honestly? you felt horrible. you wanted to do nothing more but lay in bed and cry you eyes out. but that nagging anger bubbling inside you was stronger.

she was right. he was gone feel it this time. no matter how much you missed him, it was fuck him right now.

a smile broke out on your glossed lips as, get it sexy began to play, "aw shit nah. get it bitch! cmon y'all!" you all headed to the dance floor ready to leave your problems there.

you lowered to your knees, bouncing your ass to the music. the liquor was starting to flow through your veins rapidly. you even raised your dress up a little just below your ass. one wrong move and you'd be flashing everyone in this damn place.

your back collided with a strong chest, "you showing out over here, baby." the man groaned in your ear, snaking his hands over your waist to pull your ass towards his growing crotch.

the man started kissing and sucking on your neck whilst his hands snaked downwards to your exposed thighs. you leaned your head back against his shoulder, grinding your ass in a circle on his crotch. 

for a moment, your mind went to jey. you felt guilty. what he did was considered inappropriate, and it embarrassed the fuck out you. it was like every month for the last year, it was another random ass bitch he wanted to show his 32's too.

you knew jey would never cheat on you, but that didn't stop the insistent feeling that he didn't at least come close to. coming home smelling like perfume, taking pictures with random ho's from the club, the mall, or at wrestling events. liking their pictures on the gram. it's like you aren't enough for him anymore.

yet, just letting this man touch all on you made you sick. you had a man...even if it felt like you were in the relationship all alone.

"oh shit..." lana mumbled, her eyes nearly falling on the floor

the mans hands raised to squeeze one of your breast, just as he was yanked off you, "aye yo! what the fuck is this shit? this the shit yo ass fuckin doin? you got me so fucked up!"

speak of the devil they shall appear, i guess. anger radiated off jey's body. his nose flared, snarl on his face, and his dickriding ass cousins in tow right behind him. just perfect.

"boy fuck you! you can't take shit you dish out," you yelled back, frustration from the last 24 hours finally spilling out. "get the fuck out my face."

"how do you barge in here like that shit, after having some random—"

"mind yo hoe ass business, lana. you don't know shit about what the fuck you talkin' bout!"

you pushed jey backwards by his chest, "don't talk to her like that! chill—"

"fuck is yo ass even doin' in here! i'm callin' all day to see where my girl at and you letting some random ass motherfucka touch all on you?" jey's eyes narrowed with hatred as his voice continued to raise

"excuse me," a man clearing his throat caught everyone's attention, "i'm going to have to ask all of you to leave the property. this drama has no place here."

jey slowly nodded his head before kissing his teeth. his eyes held so much hate, you barely could recognize him. for a split second, you regretted this whole night. had you just stayed your ass home all this could've been avoided. but he had no right to be a hypocrite. especially, rolling in here with all that bass in his voice like he was a saint.

he mugged you up and down, "you know what? i'm out. have fun with yo hoe ass friends, mama. where that motherfuka at? i got a few condoms for ole boy"

jey's face snapped to the side. his cheek began to sting from the force of your hand, "you got some fucking nerve! you had a fucking headache last night, right? lemme guess, random ass bitches make you feel better? I was on that damn live. but im the hoe? hopefully yo chest hurt just as fuckin bad as my feelings do!"

the next morning felt like war. the house once filled with love between two lovers felt like a cage holding a lion and a tiger...one just waiting for the other to pounce. jey's face adorned with bags, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he stared at you in the kitchen. when the club owner forced everyone to get the fuck out of his establishment before he called the police, jey snatched you by your arm, pushing you into the car.

the whole ride home the both of you shouted at each other. name calling, you hitting the dashboard, him hitting the stirring wheel. the car felt like it was suffocating under the weight of all the things you both wanted to say but couldn’t find the right words for. instead? you choose to just say 'fuck you' over and over. his knuckles turned white as he gripped the wheel tighter, while your voice cracked from the strain of yelling. the tension was so thick, even the air outside the car seemed to press in through the windows. by the time you pulled into the driveway, the silence that followed was deafening, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had just unfolded. neither of you moved, both staring straight ahead, unwilling to be the first to speak or step out.

jey choose to sleep on the couch, giving you the option to sleep in the bedroom. this morning was no different than last night. neither one of you wanted to speak first. you were tired of arguing with him—tired of him especially. you were sick of the random ass insta tags from women, the dm's, getting sent live videos...it was too much. what was supposed to be growing together felt like growing apart.

you looked up over the counter to see jey still mean muggin' you, "stop fuckin' looking at me!" you finally snapped. call you childish, for starting a fight again, but he was the one doing this. not you.

"watch yo fuckin' voice hollerin' and shit at my ass. you was the one shakin' yo ass and shit in the club. all on instagram throwing shade at me, taking pictures of yo ass out. but im the damn problem. mane, get the fuck outta here with that," jey groaned rubbing his head in his hands

"so what? you can have bitches on your lap, but i dance on a nigga, and thats your problem? you're a fucking hypocrite! i hate your ass!" you instantly regretted that, not even just saying it. but thinking of it.

"i was pushing her off me! had yo ass looked you would've seen that shit! yo ass wasn't pushing ole boy off you. was you? yo ass wanted to get back at me so bad, you damn near was finna fuck him." the thought of you and the man was vivid in jey's mind. his eyes darkening all over.

"you're a fucking liar! you were letting her grind all in your lap! I seen it! what about a few weeks ago? the bitch from your job? asking you to autograph her panties?" you scoffed before looking away. the whole conversation was a dead end. it was getting no where. he was being a hypocrite and you only wanted your point to get across. but that was jey: never wanting to take accountability or listen to shit anybody else has to say.

"thats my fuckin' job! you know that shit!"

you threw your hands in the air, before walking into the bedroom. as you slammed the door behind you, your chest heaved with a mix of anger and frustration. you couldn’t wrap your head around how jey always managed to twist things, how he never took accountability for anything.

it felt like every fight ended the same—with you drained and him unfazed. you sat on the edge of the bed, gripping the sheets as if they could anchor you to something solid. what stung more was the realization that he probably didn’t even care. it was like he lived in a world where he could do no wrong, and you were just a storm he had to wait out.

jey leaned back on the couch with a smug smirk creeping onto his face. he rubbed his jaw, shaking his head like the whole argument was nothing more than a joke, "always trippin’ over nothing," he muttered to himself, grabbing his phone and scrolling aimlessly on instagram. in his mind, he wasn’t the problem—you were.

all he’d done was go out, and you couldn’t handle it. he did have a headache, but when he felt better, his cousin invited him to the club.

after a few drinks started making their rounds, so did the women. he did let the woman dance on him, and he did grab her hips to grind against her. but as soon as he remembered you—how you were waiting at home in nothing but a shirt and a pair of panties, probably fresh out of the shower smelling like vanilla—he pushed her off him. it was just dancing.

nothing more.

He chuckled low under his breath, his ego shielding him from any self-reflection. "man, she really be actin’ like I’m out here wildin’ for real," he said to no one in particular, tossing his phone onto the coffee table.

to him, the whole fight was just another example of you being “dramatic.”

you’d come out of the room eventually, probably still mad, but Jey figured he’d smooth things over like he always did. after all, you weren’t going anywhere. at least, that’s what he told himself as he stretched out on the couch, arms behind his head, convinced he was untouchable.

the sound of the shower turning on caught his attention, the thought of you undressing, body soaked with water, instantly got him worked up. he immediately stood up, his body moving almost on its own accord. the temptation was too strong to resist. jey made his way to the bathroom door, listening intently to the sound of water hitting tile. he hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

Was this crossing a line? you were still upset with him, after all. But the image of your wet skin, droplets and soap cascading down your curves, consumed his thoughts. he swallowed hard, desire overriding his better judgment. he wanted to make up to you the only way he knew how.

slowly, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. steam billowed out, enveloping him in its warm embrace. through the foggy glass of the shower door, he could make out your silhouette. his breath caught in his throat as he watched you run your hands through your hair, completely unaware of his presence. he began to undress himself, leaving his clothes in a small pile near yours. his hand grabbing his rock hard dick, beginning to stroke it to the sight of your body.

jey's heart raced as he silently slid open the shower door, stepping into the warm spray behind you. you tensed, startled by his sudden presence, but didn't turn around. he placed his hands gently on your hips, pressing his body against your back.

"i'm sorry," he murmured against your neck, his lips grazing your wet skin. "let me make it up to you, mama."

you remained still, conflicted. part of you wanted to push him away, to hold onto your anger. but his touch sent shivers down your spine, awakening a familiar hunger.

jey's hands roamed up your sides, cupping your breasts as he kissed along your shoulder. a small gasp escaped your lips, betraying yourself. he smiled against your skin, knowing he was breaking through your defenses.

slowly, you turned to face him, water cascading down your front. your eyes stained red as tears flowed freely from them, "i love you, baby." he sighed before wrapping his arm under your thigh to push it against your chest, "you love me?"

you knew his question was a ploy to get you to break down. you feel for it every time. you nodded weakly, your resolve crumbling. "i love you too," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the rush of water.

his signature smirk appeared on his face—he won. you weren't going anywhere. he kissed you deeply, passionately, as if trying to convey all his emotions through that single act. your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, your body betraying your lingering anger.

you knew you should resist, should hold onto your anger, but your body responded to his touch instinct. jey's lips crashed into yours, passionate and hungry. you melted into his embrace, your body responding to his touch despite your lingering hurt. his fingers dug into your thigh as he pressed you against the cool tile wall.

"show me," he growled, nipping at your earlobe. "show me how much you love me, mama."

he positioned himself at your entrance, sliding his dick between your folds. your arousal leaking all over him, "its yo dick, mama. you all mines. y'hear me? ion want nobody else..." you whimpered as Jey teased you, your body trembling with need.

"fuck," you breathed, your fingers digging into his shoulders, "i need you so bad."

jey smirked, clearly pleased with your surrender. in one swift motion, he thrust into you with a grunt at the feelings of your pussy hugging him tightly, filling you completely. you cried out, overwhelmed by the sensation, "that's right, mama. no one else can make you feel this good. yea?"

"look at you, taking my dick so well," he purred, his voice dripping with arrogance. "you can't stay mad at me when I'm fucking you like this, can you?"

you shook your head weakly, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through your body. your anger melted away, replaced by a desperate need for more.

"tell me I'm the best you ever had," jey demanded, his ego swelling with every word, his voice low and dripping with arrogance as he leaned closer, his eyes locked on yours like a challenge he knew he’d already won

as he began to move, setting a punishing rhythm, you lost yourself in the sensations. the steam, the heat of his body, the fullness of him inside you, was all so familiar. all of jey's apologies ended this way. you lowered your head into the crook of his neck as your mewls bounced off the glass walls. jey felt the sensation of tears on his shoulder, warm and damp against his skin. at first, he rolled his eyes, a slight smirk tugging at his lips again.

the more he moved, the less pain you felt—and soon you were taking him so well. his dick was coated in your slick, a ring of white started form around his base as he plunged in and out of your pussy.

you felt pathetic. here you were; screaming and yelling at jey for being so inconsiderate about your relationship, inappropriate with other women, swearing you were done with him...and now you're crying about letting him fuck you in the shower. his dick thrusting in and out of your pussy, and bouncing you on it.

right where you belonged.

"this all you needed right, mama? stop crying. tell me whatchu needed. you just wanted to get fucked, hm?" jey laughed breathlessly, pressing you deeper against the wall as his hips pounded into you, "gotta remind my girl she ain't leavin' me. only place she belongs is right here. fuck me back, baby."

jey placed small kisses on your cheeks, where your tears rolled down. you hated him for making you like this—complete putty in his hands. you knew he was ruining you for all others. but what could you say? no matter how many fights, you still loved him. everything with him just felt right. you couldn't picture it with anybody else.

he chuckled darkly, increasing his pace. "that's right, mama. you all mine. no matter how mad you get."

your pussy clenched around him. the only sound in the room was you pussy making obscene noises every time he stroked, "j-jey.." you sobbed out against his shoulder as jey hit that perfect spot deep inside you.

he was like an animal in your ear: grunting and growling as he pounded you with little regard.

"i-i hate you," you whimpered unconvincingly, your walls clenching around him.

jey laughed, the sound rich and condescending. "no you don't, mama. you close? focus on cummin' baby. i love that shit."

each thrust puts stars in your vision. he’s splitting you open from behind with a steady, strong pace. your pussy clenches down on his cock and he curses under his breath at the feeling. he loved how you squeezed his length as quiet, pained mewls escaped your throat. your stomach dropped and your hips shuddered as he went deeper and deeper inside of you. your mouth opened on a loud string of sobs as you push your hips towards his. you felt your belly start to tighten as his strokes sped up.

"m-m-m gonna c-cummm," you let out a strangled cry as your orgasm flooded the both of you.

"shit! fuck, baby. you can take it. it's your dick" he growled as your pussy tightened from overstimulation. it made his eyes roll and stomach clench so hard that it hurts.

"you ha-have to pull, aw fuck! you have to pull out." you and jey always used some sort of protection. jey remembered, you mentioning how you forgot to renew your birth control pills. he finally found his way out of another one of your dramatic ass arguments. he was gonna make you a mommy, "w-we can't bring a baby into th—"

"shh, shh," he hushed your protest as his hips continued to rock into your pussy, his dick coated in a sheer layer of white slicking him up, "don't worry bout that, right now. just focus on cummin' again, baby. you so pretty when you do." his voice almost hypnotic

jey's thrusts grew even more forceful, your body bouncing against the slick tile with each powerful movement. He gripped your thighs tighter, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he held you in place.

you sniffled as you finally calmed down. your body still betraying you by leaking onto jey's dick. he pressed his lips to yours and groaned spilling rope after rope inside you with choking gasps. your over-sensitive, aching pussy twitches at the feeling of his hot cum inside of you, sending another mini orgasm out of you. he kept his dick plugged inside of you, feeding you soft thrust, making sure all his cum was drained into you.

"you know I love you, right?" he let out a small chuckle, his tone dripping with amusement as he pressed soft kisses on your face—your eyes welling with tears again, "i told you it wasn't that deep. stop being so childish, ight? y'know you my baby. no other motherfucka but you."

you blinked, confused, a mix of frustration and guilt clouding your thoughts. he could see it in your eyes, how the doubt started to creep in. you opened your mouth to argue but found yourself hesitating. the way he framed it, the way he made you feel like the one in the wrong, made you question everything, "you're right...i'm sorry, jey. i really am."

"that's what i thought," jey murmured, his smile widening as he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you like nothing had ever happened. his touch felt possessive, almost reassuring, but you couldn’t shake the knot in your stomach.

you’d said it—apologized when it wasn’t even your fault—but his manipulation left you feeling small, but once again, it didn't bother you.

he kissed the top of your head, acting like everything was fine, like the argument had never happened. "you’re good, baby," he whispered, his voice smooth, convincing. "stop letting these lil things mess wit us. we gone start our own lil family soon. my baby's gonna have my baby."

his words made your pussy soak his dick again absentmindedly and tighten all over. your body betrayed you once again, your pussy clenching and fluttering around jey's softening cock still buried inside you. a rush of warmth flooded your core as you felt his seed seeping deeper, seeking out your womb with primal purpose. your inner walls rippled with aftershocks, milking every last drop from him as if desperate to be filled.

jey set this up...he flooded his cum into you and right now it was rushing towards your womb. you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t the right time, and maybe, just maybe, jey wasn’t the right person. yet, it all still felt so perfect.

his voice was honey-sweet, dripping with false tenderness that you desperately wanted to believe. "yo body knows what it needs, even when that pretty lil head of yours get all mixed up with drama and being childish."

you nodded, your chest tight as you fought the overwhelming urge to pull away, to tell him the truth—that this wasn’t okay, that it shouldn’t be this way. but you didn’t. because the way he looked at you, so certain and calm, made you second guess yourself again.

yet, imagine the look on your face when you see two pink lines on a pregnancy test 3 weeks later and a DM of a video with another woman's lips on your mans in the back of the club. but of course, he was pushing her off...right?

right?

❦

don’t forget to follow and reblog! drop me a comment too, i love reading those. <3

tags:

@caramelcleopatraa @harmshake @msbigredmachine @angiedawn02 @amandairene88 @cyberdejos2 @queeny23 @empressdede @trentybenty @heauxvibez @whatdoeseverybodywant @shes2real @romansthrone @southerngirl41 @jaza23 @prettyfilmz @uceyliyahh @strxwberry-milku

merry christmas! 💘

[keehomania]

bad religion — rcm (18+)

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ smut, angst, minors dni, sexually explicit content below the cut, bartender!reader, unrequited love, slowburn, crashout!rafe, nobody understands him like i do, reader lowkey has bob the builder mentality, no religious themes despite the title, dirty talk, gun play, alcohol consumption, drug usage, if it brings me to my knees, it’s a bad religion; this unrequited love

it started off as a way to pay off your student loans—tuition, housing, supplies. the minute you enrolled, you had picked up the job. it was supposed to be temporary, just until you found a better solution, but time had a way of slipping through your fingers. years later, you were still standing behind the counter, wiping spills, pouring drinks, and serving customers whose names you rarely bothered to learn. the debt was gone, long since paid off, but you hadn’t managed to leave. you told yourself it was because the money was decent, but deep down, you knew the truth: you didn’t know where else to go.

the roadside had become something of a second home to you, though a noisy, sticky one. you liked the rhythm of it, the way the nights started off slow and built to a fever pitch, only to settle into a steady hum again by closing time. you liked the regulars, too—the older men who came in after long shifts at the docks or the factory. they nursed beers as if they were lifelines and tipped generously, their wallets loosening with each drink. they were kind, if a little lonely, and they made your job bearable.

the others weren’t as pleasant. there were men with slicked-back hair and gold watches, the kind who brought their wives to brunch in the mornings, but showed up at the roadside every night with someone new on their arm. whiskey neat for him, a bright, sugary cocktail for her—each woman seemingly younger, blonder, and more compliant than the last. they never tipped, and they always left a mess. you hated them the most.

and then there were the tourists. they breezed in like they owned the place, their faces sunburned and shining, and almost always said the same thing: “surprise me.” you never did. you’d pour them a vodka soda with light ice, knowing it would do the job. they didn’t care about flavor or nuance, just speed, and you weren’t about to waste good liquor on someone who wouldn’t appreciate it.

over time, the faces all blurred together. you’d seen so many people come and go that you’d stopped trying to remember them. the roadside was a revolving door, and you preferred it that way. no attachments, no complications.

“on the clock?” you looked up, having been lost in thought, polishing a variety of glasses and setting them away. he was sat in front of you, a look of near disinterest playing on his face. he almost seemed ticked off. the scent of his cologne clashed with the smell of gin. he fashioned a buzzcut, a polo shirt, and a pair of shorts. tan, blond—he’d have been disney’s dream if he was just a few years younger. if he wasn’t so easy to recognize, you would’ve mistaken him for a tourist. “unfortunately,” you responded with an honesty that almost made him smile. “what can i get you?”

for a second, he didn’t respond. you stood in front of him, with nothing but the counter separating you, but it did little to stop either of you from staring. his light blue eyes bored into yours without the faintest shade of shame. there seemed to be a grey hue to them that the photos of him never captured. rafe cameron, what were the chances of him showing up? he had gained a certain reputation thanks to his father, and his tendency to act out in public. maybe it was best if you said nothing. so, you broke the gaze.

“single malt scotch,” he answered, leaning forward against the counter. you nodded, doing your best to ignore the way his eyes followed your every movement, paired with the uncanny order that screamed toxic masculinity. you grabbed the bottle of scotch from the shelf, careful not to let your hands tremble as you poured the amber liquid into a clean glass. the sound of the pour filled the silence between you, and you were hyperaware of his gaze tracking every movement. it wasn’t just curiosity; it felt calculated, as though he were sizing you up, deciding if you were worth his attention.

the scotch settled in the glass, and you slid it across the counter toward him. “here you go,” you announced, your voice steady despite the prickle of unease his presence stirred. rafe pulled out a wallet from his pocket and laid a crisp bill on the counter, more than enough to cover the drink. his movements were deliberate, slow, as if he enjoyed the way it kept you waiting. “keep the change,” he muttered, picking up the glass and taking a measured sip.

you tucked the bill into the register, brushing off the way his tone lingered in the air. glancing around the bar, you noticed a lull in the activity. the older regulars were nursing their drinks, and the tourists had either left or were too absorbed in their own conversations to need you. your eyes drifted to the window, catching sight of a dirt bike parked just outside. its sleek red and black frame stood out against the muted colors of the streetlights.

“that your bike?” you asked, your curiosity slipping through before you could stop yourself. rafe’s lips quirked up slightly as he set his glass down. “yeah, ktm. you know bikes?”

“not really,” you admitted, leaning your hip against the counter. “but it’s a nice one. looks fast.”

“it is.” he took another sip, his eyes still on you. “you like fast things?”

there it was—the subtle shift in his tone, just enough to make the question feel loaded. you raised a brow, refusing to let him get under your skin. “depends on the thing,” you replied coolly. “fast isn’t always better.”

the smirk on his face deepened, and for a moment, he said nothing, just stared at you like he was trying to figure out what made you tick. “you’ve got a mouth on you,” he said finally, his voice low and edged with amusement. “i like that.”

you rolled your eyes, reaching for a rag to wipe down the counter. “and you’ve got a way of talking that screams trouble. i’ll pass.”

“trouble, huh?” he chuckled softly, leaning back in his seat. “you make that judgment on your own, or is that what you’ve heard about me?”

you hesitated. his reputation preceded him, of course. rafe cameron, the kook prince with too much money and too much anger. everyone had a story about him, most of them involving fights, drugs, or some poor girl left heartbroken in his wake. but something about the way he was looking at you now—calm, almost bored—didn’t match the chaos you’d heard about.

“a little of both,” you admitted, meeting his gaze again. “does it bother you?”

“not really,” he said with a shrug. “people are gonna think what they want. doesn’t make it true.”

“doesn’t make it false either,” you shot back, unable to help yourself.

that earned you another smirk, sharper this time. “you always this quick with your customers?”

“only the ones who think they’re special,” you said, the words slipping out before you could second-guess them.

his laugh was soft, but almost genuine, and it caught you off guard. “fair enough,” he said, finishing the last of his scotch. he pushed the glass toward you, the faintest hint of a challenge in his eyes. “one more?”

you nodded, grabbing the bottle again. this time, you didn’t feel the same pressure to avoid his gaze. if he wanted to play games, you could play too. as you poured, you said, “you must get this a lot.”

“what’s that?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

“girls falling over themselves for you,” you said bluntly, setting the glass down in front of him. “the charm, the looks, the whole mysterious bad boy act—it’s a lot.”

“act?” he raised a brow, clearly amused. “you think this is an act?”

“isn’t it?” you countered, crossing your arms. “seems a little rehearsed.”

he leaned forward, the movement subtle but deliberate, and suddenly the air between you felt charged again. “if i wanted to charm you,” he said slowly, his voice dropping an octave, “you’d know.”

the heat of his words settled in your chest, but you refused to let it show. instead, you picked up his empty glass and started wiping it clean. “i’ll take your word for it,” you said evenly, refusing to meet his gaze.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. he watched you in silence, his expression unreadable, and you found yourself wondering what was going through his mind. finally, he stood, pulling a set of keys from his pocket.

“thanks for the drink,” he said, his tone cool and detached again. “maybe i’ll see you around.”

“maybe,” you replied, watching as he turned and walked toward the door. his figure disappeared into the night, leaving behind the faint scent of cologne and a lingering tension you couldn’t quite shake. when you glanced out the window again, the dirt bike was gone, its engine a distant hum in the night. you exhaled, realizing only then how tightly you’d been gripping the rag in your hand. he was trouble, no doubt about it. but for some reason, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to regret the encounter.

the walk home was quiet, unsettlingly so. you’d managed to convince one of your co-workers to cover the rest of your shift, citing the lack of customers as a valid reason, but now, as the empty streets stretched before you, you almost wished you’d stayed. the moonlight pooled on the cracked pavement, illuminating a path that felt both too open and too confining. you held your house keys tightly in one hand, the jagged edges digging into your palm like a makeshift weapon. just in case. you weren’t the type to take chances.

your steps were brisk but measured, careful not to echo too loudly. every shadow seemed alive, every sound amplified. a rustle in the bushes had your heart racing, your grip tightening on the keys. it was probably a cat, you told yourself, though your eyes darted back toward the noise every few seconds, just to be sure. the world felt too quiet, too exposed. you hated this part of the night—the vulnerability of it. it wasn’t paranoia, you told yourself, just caution. but still, your mind raced with every worst-case scenario.

when you finally reached your house, relief washed over you like a wave. the sight of the peeling paint and sagging porch might have been depressing to anyone else, but to you, it meant safety. unlocking the door felt like unlocking a barrier between you and the rest of the world. once inside, you locked it again, flipping the bolt twice just to hear the satisfying click. the air inside was stale, carrying the faint scent of cleaning products and something slightly metallic. it wasn’t much, but it was yours. or at least, it was until the lease ran out.

the place was as minimal as it could get. a mismatched thrift store couch dominated the small living room, its cushions worn and sagging in places. a single bookshelf stood in the corner, half-filled with old paperbacks and a few decorative knick-knacks you’d found at a yard sale. the kitchen, visible from the living room, was clean but bare, its counters free of anything that might be considered a luxury. your future depended on saving, on scrimping wherever you could, and every dollar you didn’t spend brought you one step closer to a life that didn’t feel like you were treading water.

you dropped your bag near the door and kicked off your shoes, the weight of the day settling over you like a blanket. collapsing onto the couch, you reached for the remote and flicked the television on. the screen blinked to life, casting a dim blue glow across the room. you scrolled aimlessly through the channels until the news caught your eye.

“...marking the anniversary of ward cameron’s death,” the reporter announced, her voice measured. the screen cut to a montage of images—ward’s face, the cameron estate. “ward cameron, a prominent figure in the outer banks, left behind a legacy of wealth, corruption, and betrayal. his death, which shocked the island community, continues to be a topic of both fascination and controversy.”

you scoffed, sinking deeper into the couch. “apple, tree,” you muttered under your breath, the words bitter and sharp. it was hard not to think about rafe, his cool demeanor and the air of entitlement that clung to him like a second skin. the spawn of the man had left the world behind with a son who seemed a fistfight away from being institutionalized. it was rich people bullshit, all of it, and it infuriated you. they lived in their gilded cages, creating drama out of thin air while people like you scraped by just to keep the lights on.

the reporter continued, delving into ward’s crimes and the ripple effect they’d had on the community, but you tuned her out. it all felt so distant, so removed from your own reality. people like the camerons didn’t have to worry about overdue bills or walking home alone at night. they sneezed, and the rest of the island lined up to wipe their noses.

you grabbed the thin blanket draped over the back of the couch and pulled it over yourself, letting the reporter’s voice fade into background noise. the couch wasn’t comfortable—not really—but it was familiar. it was where you ended most nights, too tired to drag yourself to the bedroom. the faint hum of the television lulled you into a fragile sense of calm, the weight of the day finally giving way to exhaustion.

as you closed your eyes, the image of rafe’s piercing blue stare flitted across your mind, unbidden and unwelcome. you shoved it away, chalking it up to nothing more than an odd encounter. he was a blip on the radar, a momentary distraction in a life too busy for indulgences like curiosity. with a heavy sigh, you let the hum of the television pull you under, the world slipping away as sleep claimed you.

the next day dawned slow and gray, the kind of morning that felt like a continuation of the night before. you went about your routine with mechanical precision, brushing your teeth in the tiny bathroom with its perpetually fogged mirror and peeling wallpaper. breakfast was quick—toast, black coffee, and a glance at the wilted plant by the window you kept forgetting to water. you were out the door before you had time to feel the weight of the day ahead.

the walk to the bar wasn’t long, but it was enough to remind you why you hated mornings. the streets were quiet, but not in the same way as they were at night. this quiet felt temporary, like the city was holding its breath before the chaos of the day began.

at the bar, you fell into the rhythm of the job almost immediately. wiping down counters, setting up glasses, restocking liquor shelves—it was second nature by now. the hours dragged, each one blending into the next as a slow trickle of customers came and went. a few regulars shuffled in for their early beers, their faces as familiar to you as the scratches on the bar top. you greeted them with polite smiles, but your mind was elsewhere.

you didn’t want to admit it, even to yourself, but you half-expected rafe to show up. every time the door swung open, your eyes darted toward it, only to find someone else stepping inside. the anticipation was irritating, like an itch you couldn’t scratch. you told yourself you didn’t care whether he came back or not, but the lie was too obvious to be convincing.

by nightfall, the bar began to pick up. the low hum of conversation grew louder, mingling with the clink of glasses and the faint strains of a classic rock playlist. you stepped outside for a smoke break, needing a moment away from the noise. the air was cool, carrying the faint scent of salt from the ocean. you leaned against the wall, the cigarette in your hand a small comfort against the monotony of the day.

the sound of a motor rumbled in the distance, growing louder until it filled the air. your eyes flicked toward the source, and there he was, pulling up on his dirt bike like he owned the place. the red and black machine gleamed under the dim streetlights, and for a moment, you just watched as he killed the engine and swung a leg over. he took off his helmet, revealing that same buzzcut and piercing blue eyes that had lingered in your mind longer than you cared to admit. he saw you almost immediately, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth as he approached.

“you get lost again?” you called out, unable to resist. your tone was teasing, but the sight of him sent an unexpected jolt through you. “figure 8’s on the other side.”

he chuckled, low and amused, the sound like gravel in his throat. “must’ve taken a wrong turn.” his eyes dropped to the cigarette in your hand, and his smirk deepened. “those things’ll kill you, y’know?”

you scoffed, tapping the ash off the end and watching it scatter to the ground. “not fast enough, obviously.”

“let’s hope not,” he replied smoothly, his gaze steady on yours. “not until i get a glass of scotch.”

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the faint tug of a smile. “two nights in a row, it must be good.”

he tilted his head, the smirk on his face turning downright devious. “among other things.”

the way he said it sent a chill down your spine, one you couldn’t quite shake as you turned and headed back inside. you heard his footsteps behind you, steady and unhurried, as though he knew exactly where he belonged.

behind the bar, you reached for the bottle of single malt without needing to ask. he took the same seat as the night before, his movements deliberate and lazy, like he had all the time in the world. you poured the drink and set it in front of him, doing your best to ignore the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move.

“caught the news last night,” you said casually as he pulled out his wallet. “sorry for your loss.”

the change in his expression was instant, the smirk wiped clean in less than a second. his jaw tightened, and his light blue eyes grew cold. “don’t be,” he said flatly. “i’m not.”

you had to resist the urge to roll your eyes at the obvious deflection. “he’s your dad, is he not?” you asked, more curious than you should’ve been.

rafe’s lips twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. “sure, why not?” his tone was stoic, detached, and it made you regret bringing it up. the silence that followed was heavy, thick with something unspoken that you couldn’t quite place.

he sipped his drink, his gaze fixed on the counter as though it held answers to questions you didn’t even know how to ask. to you, it was just another reminder of how different your worlds were. but to him, the weight of that silence carried memories he wouldn’t let surface, not here, not now, not ever.

the bar buzzed around you, but for a moment, the two of you might as well have been the only ones there. you busied yourself with wiping down the counter, giving him the space he clearly needed. whatever his relationship with his father had been, it wasn’t your place to pry. but as you glanced at him, you couldn’t help but wonder—what kind of man grew up in the shadow of someone like ward cameron?

you were midway through rinsing a glass when a new customer slid into the seat beside rafe. the man was tall, blond, and sun-kissed, his skin bearing the unmistakable sheen of someone who spent most of their days by the water. his outfit—a white wifebeater and faded shorts—screamed local. rafe stiffened beside him, his easy demeanor shifting as he leaned back in his seat, jaw tightening. the newcomer leaned forward onto the bar, turning his attention to you.

“excuse me?” his voice cut through the background noise, drawing your focus. you walked over, keeping your expression neutral.

“what can i get you?” you asked casually, pulling a towel off your shoulder and tossing it onto the counter.

the man grinned, clearly enjoying himself as he pretended to think. he was already swaying slightly, the telltale sign of someone who’d started drinking well before stepping through your door.

“well,” he began, dragging the word out like it was some profound thought, “i’d ask for a beer, but it depends.” he paused, his smile growing wider. “does the beer come with a phone number?”

you bit back the urge to roll your eyes, a skill you’d perfected over countless encounters like this. leaning forward, you fixed him with a stare so sharp it could cut glass. “a restraining order, actually,” you replied coolly, your voice devoid of humor.

the man laughed, clearly not deterred. if anything, your response seemed to fuel his bravado. “come on, sweetheart,” he said, tilting his head as though to charm you. “what kind of customer service is that?”

you turned away, doing your best to ignore him as you crouched to grab a beer from the fridge. the cool air brushed your skin, offering a brief reprieve from the heat of the room. you popped the cap off the bottle, your back still turned, oblivious to the way the man leaned back in his seat, his eyes glued to the way your jeans stopped below your waist. what you missed, someone else didn’t.

the first crash was deafening, shattering the rhythm of the bar in an instant. you whipped around, the beer in your hand sloshing slightly as your eyes widened at the scene before you.

the blond man was on the ground, sprawled awkwardly, his face contorted in shock and pain. towering over him was rafe, his knuckles already bloodied from the first blow. the air felt electric, charged with the sheer force of the rage radiating from him. “come on, sweetheart,” rafe sneered, his tone mocking as he delivered another punch. “what kind of manners are those?”

the man barely had time to respond before rafe grabbed him by the front of his tank top, hauling him up like a ragdoll. the look in his eyes was something primal, something feral. “i might just make you my bitch if I don’t kill you first,” he growled, his voice low and dangerous.

the man whimpered, his bravado completely gone, but rafe wasn’t finished. his fist connected again, the sound of impact reverberating through the room.

“rafe, stop!” you shouted, your voice cutting through the chaos. you scrambled out from behind the bar, pushing past the growing crowd of onlookers. it took more than just you to pull him away. one of the other bartenders jumped in, followed by a bouncer, both of them struggling to wrestle rafe back. his chest heaved, his hands still twitching with barely-contained energy as they held him.

you crouched beside the man on the floor, who was clutching his face and groaning. his nose was bleeding, and one eye was already swelling shut. your heart pounded as you turned back to rafe, fury and disbelief written all over your face. “are you trying to get me fired?” you snapped, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and adrenaline.

his gaze shifted to you, his blue eyes dark and unreadable. for a moment, he didn’t respond, his breathing heavy, his hands still shaking as they hung at his sides, blood dripping from his knuckles. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice dripping with venom. “because that’d be such a shame.”

his eyes flicked back to the man on the floor, his lip curling in disgust. you saw it then—the side of rafe cameron everyone warned you about. the man who was a ticking time bomb, always seconds away from detonating.

your manager’s glare burned into you, sharp and unrelenting, but the message clear as day. with a sigh heavy enough to rattle your ribs, you turned back to rafe, still seething where he stood, blood dripping onto the floor like a crimson metronome. “come on,” you muttered, jerking your head toward the back. “let’s fix you up before you make this night even worse.”

rafe followed without protest, his steps heavy and deliberate, the energy of the room shifting as you led him through the door behind the bar. the hallway was dim, illuminated only by the flicker of a fluorescent bulb, the walls lined with scuffed paint and the faint smell of bleach. you shoved open the door to a small office-slash-medical-room hybrid—a cluttered, utilitarian space with a desk shoved against the wall and a first-aid kit hanging by the door.

“sit down,” you snapped, pointing at the worn metal chair in the center of the room. he obliged, sinking into the chair with an infuriating calmness, his long legs sprawled out as if he owned the place. he didn’t say a word, but his gaze tracked you as you rummaged through drawers, the scrape of metal and plastic breaking the silence.

it wasn’t until you turned back with supplies in hand that you noticed it: the black grip of a gun tucked into the waistband of his shorts. “are you kidding me?” you hissed, your eyes narrowing. “you’ve gotta be shitting me. second night here, and you’re ready to get me fired.”

rafe didn’t respond immediately, his eyes drawn to the streaks of moonlight slicing through the cracked blinds. the faint silver light caught the sharp angles of his face, softening them just enough to be dangerous. “i have a permit,” he said finally, his voice low and disinterested, as if that explained everything.

you almost laughed. almost. “put that shit away,” you ordered, gesturing sharply.

he smirked but complied, pulling the weapon free and sliding it into his jacket instead. only rafe cameron could make following directions look like a favor. “unbelievable,” you muttered, stepping closer. “hold still.”

you crouched beside him, your fingers deft as you dabbed antiseptic onto a rag. the smell was sharp, stinging your nose as you pressed it to his knuckles. he didn’t flinch, his stoicism unnerving as you worked to clean away the blood and dirt. his hands were strong, calloused in a way that hinted at a life rougher than the one you’d imagined for someone like him.

“you wanna tell me what the hell that was about?” you asked, your tone cutting.

“he was staring at you,” he said simply, his voice devoid of emotion.

you glanced up, caught off guard by the frankness of his statement. “so what? i deal with creeps like that all the time. doesn’t mean you get to knock their teeth in.”

his lips twitched, the faintest shadow of a smirk. “guess i’m not good at letting things slide.”

“yeah, no kidding,” you shot back, shaking your head. his knuckles were raw and split, the blood pooling in thin lines that you carefully wiped away.

the silence between you stretched, thick and charged, until finally, you leaned back and surveyed your work. his hands were still trembling, though whether from adrenaline or something deeper, you couldn’t tell. “all done,” you said, straightening up. “now, if you’ll excuse me, i’m clocking out before someone else decides to bleed all over my bar.”

rafe stood, towering over you as he adjusted his jacket. “i’ll take you home.”

you blinked, caught off guard by the offer. “my legs work just fine,” you replied, your tone sharper than intended.

he didn’t budge, his gaze steady and unwavering. “i wasn’t asking.”

before you could protest further, he was leading you back to the front, where his bike waited. the night air was cool against your skin, the hum of cicadas filling the silence as he handed you a helmet.

“don’t tell me to hold on tight, because i won’t,” you warned as you climbed on behind him, the words almost daring.

he chuckled, a low, rumbling sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “we’ll see about that.”

the engine roared beneath you, and despite your earlier words, your arms instinctively wrapped around his waist as the bike lurched forward. the wind whipped past you, pulling at your hair as the world blurred into streaks of light and shadow.

by the time he pulled up to your house, your pulse was racing for reasons you refused to examine too closely. you slid off the bike, your legs unsteady as you removed the helmet and handed it back to him.

“thanks for the ride,” you muttered, stepping onto the porch. rafe followed, his gaze sweeping over the small, weathered house you called home. you braced yourself for some snide comment, but he said nothing, his expression unreadable.

“it’s not much,” you admitted, crossing your arms defensively.

“it’s enough,” he said simply, his tone carrying none of the judgment you’d expected.

you looked up at him, the moonlight casting an ethereal glow over his features, highlighting the sharp planes of his cheekbones and the curve of his lips. there was something magnetic about him, something that made your heart stumble even as your mind screamed at you to stay away.

no matter how much your mind screamed at you, you knew you wouldn’t listen. when he kissed you, it wasn’t sweet or gentle. It was rough, insistent, a collision of mouths and unspoken tensions. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer as his lips moved against yours, claiming and demanding in a way that left you breathless. it wasn’t romantic. it wasn’t kind. but it was everything you didn’t know you’d been craving.

“we’re so not doing this,” you exhaled with a shaky laugh, breaking the kiss as reality clawed its way back into your mind. your palms flattened against his chest, as though a barrier of mere inches could hold back the tide of whatever this was.

but rafe didn’t flinch. his hands, rough and warm, rested on your bare waist, his thumbs drawing lazy circles on your skin that sent sparks racing through your veins. his gaze, piercing and unrelenting, locked onto yours like a challenge, daring you to contradict him.

“yes, we are,” his eyes seemed to say, the intensity of his stare enough to make you forget the very air around you. “are you scared?” he whispered, the words slipping from his lips like silk. they weren’t a question, not really. they were a taunt, a gauntlet thrown at your feet.

he leaned closer, his breath hot against your ear, sending a shiver rolling down your spine. his nose brushed against the shell of your ear, his lips so close they grazed your neck, and you swore he could feel the way your pulse fluttered beneath your skin.

“i’m not scared of anything,” you shot back, your voice firmer than you felt. defiance burned in your chest, even as the sensation of his mouth barely ghosting over your jaw made your knees weak.

“maybe you should be,” he murmured, his voice low, his tone a promise more than a threat.

the words undid you. they stripped away your composure, your restraint, until nothing remained but the white-hot pull that had been simmering between you all night. your fingers moved before you could stop them, wrapping around the back of his neck, the tips grazing the bare skin there. the contact sent a shiver through him that you felt as much as saw.

and then you were kissing him again, your lips colliding with his in a frenzy of heat and need. there was no hesitation this time, no room for second thoughts or retreat. he tasted like scotch and rebellion, smelled like leather and something darker, something dangerous. you weren’t scared, but you should have been. everyone was scared of the devil.

his hand found the small of your back, his touch searing through the fabric of your shirt as he pushed you backward, through the open door to your house. your legs gave out slightly, the doorframe digging into your spine as you kissed him harder. rafe’s other hand roamed up your side, his fingertips tracing the line of your waist, up to your chest, cupping one of your tits through the fabric. your breath hitched, your eyes fluttering shut as he squeezed gently.

“you must do this a lot,” you half-joked as his lips find their way back to your neck, wet and sloppy as they travel down to your collarbone. he grunts against your skin, “could say the same about you,” he retorts. the room spun around you as he backed you further into the house, his hands never leaving your body, his mouth never leaving your neck. you felt the wall behind you, your body trapped between the hardness of the wall and the hardness of, well, him.

his hand slid around your thigh, diving under the fabric of your jeans, fingertips grazing the wetness of your panties. your hips bucked slightly at the touch, betraying your own eagerness. “haven’t been fucked in a while, have you?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. “what’s the matter, baby? did i turn you on?” you wanted to defy him more than anything, but you were powerless to resist.

instead, you fought fire with fire, raising your knee enough to press it against the center of his shorts. no matter how tough your bones were, they did little to prepare you for just how hard and heavy he felt, throbbing under the thick material of his shorts. “you’ve got it worse than i do,” you do your best to retort, but it’s not easy, not with his fingers rubbing sweet circles against the damp spot of your panties, drawing out every whimper he can from you.

“ease my pain, why don't you?” he murmurs softly. you watched him through hooded eyes as he crouched down, his fingers tugging down your jeans until they're pooling around your ankles. you complied, raising your feet to rid yourself of the blockage. when you did, he took a moment to admire you—pressed against the wall of your own home, standing in nothing but a skimpy top, panties soaked, and a pair of heels he didn’t plan on letting you take off.

when you tried to, he was quick to stop you. “heels on,” his voice was coated in authority, and you’re quick to pull back. “everything else, off.”

“bossy, aren’t you?” you couldnt help but ask him, but it only encouraged him. you watched as he leveled the playing field, peeling his own shirt off, leaving him in nothing but his shorts. he seemed skinny, thanks to his height, but you had clearly been deceived. he was toned, everything about him was toned in just the right places.

your eyes trailed down to the metal tucked in his shorts, and you allowed yourself to pull the weapon out, holding it in front of him. “really?” you couldn’t help but ask. he offered a smile amd a shrug, unable to protest as you sat the gun on the table beside him. better safe than sorry.

you couldn’t help but trail a hand down his chest, your feather-light touch sending shivers down his spine as you traced every muscle and crevice from his collarbone to his hips. youd never admit it out loud, but he was incredible. “see something you like?” he teased, attaching his lips to your neck a final time as his fingers tugged at your shirt, eager to get it out of the way. you whimpered at the feeling, the way he’d bite down enough to make you wince, but run his tongue over the surface a second later. “don’t flatter yourself,” you managed to say.

but he had every intention of doing so. he allowed your shirt to fall to the floor as his lips travelled south, making their way down your collarbone and over your clothed tits. you tilted your head back, fingers instinctively pulling him in closer by the back of his neck, drawing him in further between your tits. he unclasped your bra with ease, giving you the impression he had definitely done this plenty of times, but you were too desperate to care. “should’ve just told me you wanted it rough,” he said, and you swore you could feel his smirk against your skin.

his hand slid down to cup your ass, his fingertips ghosting over the lace of your panties. with a sharp tug, he pulled them aside, revealing the sticky mess that had been hidden beneath. “dripping all over my fingers, huh?” he murmured, his voice low enough to send a tremor through you. his finger slid through the slickness, teasing your entrance before pressing inside. you moaned, your legs shaking, your hips thrusting back against him. “fuck, rafe, too much,” and you wished you were exaggerating. his fingers were thin, slender, hitting all the right spots like they had them mapped out.

his eyes searched yours as he began to pump his finger in and out of you, his strokes measured and deliberate. “not enough, never enough,” he countered, his tone almost mocking. you whined, desperate for more. he smirked, adding a second finger, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with just enough pressure to make your knees buckle. you leaned into the wall, using it for support as his digits worked their magic. you were dripping all over his fingers, wetting them from the tips to his knuckles.

when he pulled them out, it almost felt cruel, a long whine drawn out of you as the feeling of emptiness replaced fulfillment. “so fucking needy, jesus, shit,” he groaned, taking a second to admire how glossy his fingers were, how hard the sight of your arousal had him. “just a second, i promise.” you nodded, watching as he brought his shorts down, leaving him in his boxers, but only for a second. it was enough for you to catch the trailer, to see what awaited you.

when his boxers followed, you really wished for another minute to process the sight. his cock flopped against his abs, twitching. his tip was stained an angry red, beads of pre-cum trailing down the underside of his cock, following a prominent vein before collecting under his balls. “stroke my ego, just like that,” you heard him say, but you didn’t care. you needed him.

his hand wrapped around his shaft, stroking it slowly, teasingly. “you like watching, don’t you?” you nodded, your eyes glued to his hand as it glided up and down. “good,” he murmured, his eyes darkening. “i’ll put on a fucking show for you.”

he stepped closer, pressing the tip of his cock against your clit, hard and ready to split your folds open. you could feel the heat, the urgency, and the promise of what was to come. he leaned in, his breath hot on your face. “gonna take this dick like a fuckin’ champ.”

your cheeks burned with a mix of embarrassment and desire, his words hitting you in the core of your being. you didn’t know why, but you craved his dirty talk, his filthy mouth whispering bittersweet nothings that turned you into a trembling mess. “yes, please, fuck me,” you breathed, your voice a shaky whisper that seemed to echo through the room.

rafe smirked, his hand still working his cock. “that’s my girl,” he said, and the term of endearment had your stomach doing somersaults. his eyes never left yours, not even as he pushed his cock past your folds, eyes glued to the way your jaw dropped, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at the sensation of his bare tip splitting you open.

you were soaked, the sound of his skin slapping against yours obscene, filling the room as he picked up his pace. he leaned in, his teeth capturing yours in a brutal kiss that had you moaning into his mouth. your nails scratched at his back, leaving deep red grooves that you knew would scar. his hands gripped your hips, holding you steady as he thrust into you, his strokes deep and unrelenting. “fuck, shit, pussy’s squeezing my cock,” he groaned through the kiss, breathless.

the room spun around you, the sensation of his bare length inside you, the feeling of his teeth on your lip, his tongue in your mouth—it was all too much. your body felt like it was on fire, every nerve ending a live wire ready to spark and explode. “yes, yes, fuck, yes,” you chanted, your voice a desperate mantra that matched the rhythm of his hips.

his hands slid to your throat, thumbs pressing against the pulse that beat frantically. you gasped, the sudden pressure a jolt of electricity that shot straight to your core. his grip tightened, not enough to cut off air, but enough to make you aware of your vulnerability. “you like it rough, don’t you?” he whispered, his voice a dark caress in your ear. you didnt even have to answer, the feeling of your cunt clenching around him told him everything he needed to know.

his hand slid down to grip your neck, his fingers tightening as he slammed into you, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the walls. “you want it harder?” he growled, his teeth grazing your earlobe. you nodded, your breath coming in ragged gasps. you weren’t sure how much harder it could get—with him pounding your pussy, you could feel the way he throbbed, pulsing deep inside of you, but you had to expect the unexpected from him. the unexpected came as he leaned back, hand wrapping around the barrel of his gun. your eyes widened, but you were in no position to resist—you didn’t even want to.

there was something dangerous in his eyes, something you had only seen once, just a few hours earlier at the bar, but it drew you in more than you wanted it to. his pace never faltered, his hips slamming against your flesh as one hand held your leg up high, the sight of your cunt swallowing him whole only adding fuel to the fire. his other hand held the gun, finger to the trigger, as he pressed it to your temple.

“tell me you’re scared,” he murmured, gripping your thigh in a way that told you to expect a bruise or two. the cold metal of the gun you knew had to have been loaded dug into your skin, his fingers locked around the trigger.

“scared,” you barely managed to whisper, tits shaking with every forceful thrust. “i’m scared, rafe,” but your words were like music to his ears, the clenching of your cunt a sign that you were just as horny as you were scared.

he threw his head back, pushing your leg up even farther, enough for it to sting deliciously as he rammed into you, the head of his cock bruising the entirety of your pussy. “you should be,” he hissed, sweat dripping down his chest. he lowered the gun, giving you a temporary feeling of relief, one that didnt last long. he brought it closer to you, tapping your bottom lip with the muzzle. “didn’t i tell you?”

your eyes widened at the sight of the weapon so close to you, his fingers never leaving the trigger, but you knew your best option was to oblige. your lips parted, and he was quick to push it into your mouth. he groaned at the sight, watching your swollen lips wrap around the barrel enough to send him over the edge. “doin’ everything i tell you to, fuck, you’re so good.”

you felt the metal of the gun slide along your tongue, his hips moving with the rhythm of your mouth. you didn’t dare bite down, not with how close he was to climax. his hand tightened around your throat, his other hand keeping the gun in your mouth as he fucked you harder, his strokes becoming erratic. “you’re gonna take it all, baby. all of me. every single drop,” he promised, and the thought of his hot, sticky cum filling your mouth had your pussy tightening around his cock.

you felt your orgasm approaching, the tension in your body coiling like a tight spring ready to snap. you moaned around the gun, the vibrations of the sound traveling up the barrel and into your mouth. rafe’s eyes glazed over, his movements becoming sloppy with lust. “yeah, just like that,” he whispered, his thumb pressing into your neck, cutting off just enough air to make your world spin.

the gun slipped from your mouth with a wet pop, and you gasped for air, your chest heaving as his grip around your neck loosened slightly. his eyes snapped to yours, searching, hungry, as he pulled out of you, his cock glistening with your wetness. before you could protest, he turned you around, pressing you into the wall. his hand found your throat again, squeezing as his cock nudged at your entrance from behind.

the fear and arousal had started mixing in a heady cocktail that had you on the edge of oblivion. with a smirk, he slammed into you, his bare skin slapping against yours in a way that was almost painful. your eyes rolled back as he fucked you mercilessly, his hand around your neck keeping you in place, his other hand pressing against your stomach to keep you steady.

his thumb brushed against your clit, the sensation making you moan, your knees buckling slightly. he chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill through your body. “such a sweet thing,” he said, his voice deep and guttural. “letting me fill this sweet pussy up.” you could only moan, unable to do anything but submit to his will. the pressure built inside of you, a crescendo that was only heightened by the way he choked you, the way his cock hit just the right spot deep inside of you.

his strokes grew more erratic, his breathing becoming ragged. “yes, yes, fuck, cum for me, cum all over this cock,” he demanded, his voice a mix of pleasure and command. and like a good little slut, you did. your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your body shaking and convulsing around his cock, your cunt pulsing with every beat of your heart.

his grip on your neck tightened, his thrusts becoming even more punishing as you came. your nails scraped against the wall, leaving marks that would surely be there when the sun came up. you could feel your eyes water, your vision swimming with the pressure he applied, but it only added to the intense pleasure that flooded your body. “fuck, yes, take it, take it all,” he groaned, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside of you. his cum filled you, hot and thick, and you felt the stickiness of it trickle down your legs. he leaned into you, his body pressing you into the wall, his breathing harsh and heavy in your ear. for a moment, you felt it all, right before youe vision betrayed you.

the morning greeted you with the kind of disorientation that made reality feel like a cruel trick. your head throbbed, and your body ached as if every muscle in you had given up the fight. blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the window, you became acutely aware of the rough texture of the couch beneath you. the blanket draped over you was haphazard, your clothes were gone, and a sickening weight settled in your stomach.

it didn’t take long for the memories to come flooding back: rafe’s hands on your skin, his lips on yours, the way he’d devoured you as if you were the only thing keeping him alive. and now? nothing. the couch was empty, and the only remnants of him were the bruises on your neck and the dull ache between your thighs.

you exhaled shakily, pressing your palms against your face. what had you expected? a note? breakfast? rafe cameron wasn’t the kind of man who stayed. he took what he wanted, and you’d been foolish enough to give it to him.

the guilt settled like a weight on your chest as you forced yourself to your feet, rummaging for clothes. the shame was suffocating, curling around you as you dressed in silence. by the time you stepped out of your house, the sun was high, and the day was already slipping away.

at work, the tension was evident. your manager’s icy glare followed you as you prepped for the event that night. “last night was your first strike,” he said coldly, and you knew there was no room for argument. you nodded silently, biting back the urge to snap. the day dragged on, and despite the busy prep work, rafe never appeared.

by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, the event was in full swing. the bar was packed, music pumping through the speakers, and you were moving through the crowd like clockwork. but you couldn’t stop the gnawing feeling in your chest, the anticipation every time the door swung open. he still wasn’t there.

frustrated, you stepped outside for a smoke, seeking solace in the familiar burn of nicotine. the beach in the distance was scattered with people, laughter and music drifting on the wind. that’s when you saw him. rafe was leaning against the hood of his bike, his head tilted as a girl’s hands tangled in his hair. her lips moved feverishly against his, her body pressed against his in a way that made your stomach twist.

“it’s not that serious,” you muttered to yourself, exhaling a shaky breath. but it didn’t stop the sting, the ache that settled deep in your chest. you extinguished the cigarette against the wall and went back inside, needing something—anything—to dull the edges of your emotions.

the first drink went down easy. the second burned, but you welcomed it. you poured yourself a third before a light tap on your shoulder startled you. “excuse me,” a voice said, nervous and unsure.

you turned, offering a faint smile to the tall, sunkissed guy standing behind you. “are you on your break?” he asked hesitantly.

you shook your head, setting your glass down. “it’s okay. i could use the distraction. what’re you having?”

he slid onto the stool, rubbing the back of his neck. “a mai tai would be alright.”

nodding, you set to work, your movements automatic. you slid the drink across the counter, noting the way he fidgeted with his fingers. “busy night,” he said, trying to make conversation.

“yeah, i guess,” you replied.

he shrugged, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “came with a friend, but he’s with a girl right now.”

you sat beside him, crossing your arms. “sorry to hear that.”

“it’s fine,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. “i’m topper, by the way.”

before you could respond, a familiar presence loomed beside you. you turned slowly, your stomach sinking when your eyes landed on him. ��this the friend you were talking about?” you asked topper, though your gaze stayed fixed on rafe.

“yeah,” topper said, oblivious to the tension. “you two know each other?”

rafe opened his mouth, but you were quicker. “no,” you said firmly. “no idea.”

rafe’s expression was unreadable, but you didn’t care. you spent the rest of the night ignoring him, focusing on anything but the way his eyes bore into you. when your shift finally ended, you clocked out and stepped outside, only to find him waiting.

“what do you want?” you snapped, already exhausted.

“what’s wrong?” he asked, his tone laced with faux concern.

“fuck off, rafe.”

he grabbed your arm, spinning you around to face him. “is this about sofia?” he asked, realization dawning on his face.

“so she has a name,” you said bitterly, yanking your arm free.

“get over yourself,” he called after you. “you should’ve known it was casual.” his words hit like a slap, but you didn’t look back. you couldn’t.

the next few days were a blur of muted colors and sharp-edged feelings that refused to dull. you didn’t go to work; the thought of stepping back into that bar, facing the memories etched into its walls, was unbearable. instead, you sought solace in the one place that had always calmed you—the beach.

the sand felt cold beneath your feet, even in the mid-morning sun. the rhythmic crashing of the waves usually soothed you, their endless cadence like a lullaby for your restless mind. but today, they felt distant, like a song you no longer knew the words to.

you sat by the shoreline, knees hugged to your chest as the salty breeze tangled in your hair. there was no anger, no fire—just an aching hollowness that stretched out inside you. mourning someone who was never really yours wasn’t a dramatic storm; it was a slow erosion, like the tide pulling pieces of you away until you were left unrecognizable.

you replayed every moment with him in your mind, dissecting every look, every word, searching for signs of something deeper, something real. but the truth was glaringly simple: rafe cameron wasn’t yours. he was never meant to be.

as the day slipped into evening, the sun sinking low on the horizon, you wandered aimlessly along the beach. the golden light painted the world in soft hues, but it couldn’t reach you. the weight of your thoughts dragged you back to the sand, and you sat again, staring at the endless expanse of water, feeling as though it mirrored the vast emptiness inside you.

you didn’t notice the presence beside you at first. the silence had become your companion, so when the soft crunch of sand gave way to stillness, you barely registered it. but then you turned your head, and there he was. he didn’t look at you. his gaze, like yours, was fixed on the water. the sharp angles of his face were softened in the twilight, but the tension in his jaw betrayed him. he said nothing at first, and neither did you. words felt too heavy, too complicated for the fragile stillness between you.

“my dad had a choice to make before he died,” he said finally, his voice low and rough, as though dragged over gravel.

you didn’t turn to him, didn’t acknowledge his words beyond the faintest flicker of your lashes.

“he told me he had to choose between me and my sister,” he continued, his tone clipped, detached. “he told me it’d always be her.”

the confession hung in the air, heavy and raw, but you stayed quiet, your eyes locked on the waves that seemed to stretch forever. “the first night i came into the bar,” he said after a pause, “it was the anniversary of ward’s death.”

your throat tightened, but you remained silent, letting him unravel the threads of himself piece by piece.

“i bent over backward for him, y’know?” his voice cracked, but he recovered quickly, masking the vulnerability with bitterness. “did some things i wasn’t proud of for him, but none of it mattered.”

his laugh was low and bitter, barely more than an exhale. “so forgive me if i’m a little hesitant to let you in.”

there was a challenge in his words, a dare for you to contradict him. but you didn’t. you stared at the water, your voice soft when you finally spoke. “i’m not him, rafe.”

he nodded slowly, the movement barely perceptible out of the corner of your eye. “yeah,” he said, his tone heavy with resignation. “but most of them are.”

you could feel his eyes on you, searching for something—what, you weren’t sure.

“i told him once that I knew something was wrong with me,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost distant. “but he told me to keep it quiet. that’s how much he cared.”

the silence that followed was suffocating, filled with all the things neither of you could say. the ocean stretched endlessly before you, its waves crashing softly against the shore as if mocking the turmoil inside you.

“i’m sorry,” you said finally, your voice barely audible over the sound of the water.

“for what?” he asked, his tone edged with disbelief.

“for what he did to you.” he didn’t respond, and you didn’t push him. The two of you sat there, side by side, two broken pieces that didn’t quite fit together but couldn’t seem to pull apart.

tears pricked at your eyes, hot and unwelcome, and you blinked furiously, determined not to let them fall. but it was no use. the weight of everything—the loss, the pain, the hopelessness—was too much. a single tear slid down your cheek, then another, until they were falling freely, carving silent trails down your face. you didn’t wipe them away, didn’t hide them. what was the point?

you felt him move before you saw him, his arms wrapping around you from behind. his chin rested lightly on your shoulder, and his grip was firm, possessive. for a moment, you let yourself lean into him, the warmth of his body a cruel comfort against the chill of the night.

but even as he held you, even as your tears soaked into his shirt, you knew the truth. you would worship something that has destruction in its blood, blind and desperate, chasing something you could never truly have. rafe cameron was the kind of man who would burn you to the ground and then light another match just to watch you smolder. and yet, there you were, willingly stepping into the flames.

you stared out at the ocean, its vastness swallowing you whole, and you knew you were lost, eyes dilated as you watched the clouds float. you would practice the worst religion of them all, praying for something you knew you’d never have.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚

[skzdreamer13]

AHHHHHHHHHHH I love HYUNJINS new haircut!!! AHHHHHH

okay….hear me out…..

Can you pls write a Hyunjin fic of him getting his new haircut without the reader knowing? And she ends up LOVING IT…. And then like snuggling at the end…

only if you have time ofc or if you want to 😍😍

Love this

Give me love

Oh my god yes lol I've been looking for an excuse all day to write about kiwi Hyunjin!

This turned out a bit angsty but it's still very cute and I hope you enjoy! 🖤

Idol!Hyunjin x Reader

Info ~ Angst, reassurance, insecurities, cuddling

Hyunjin has been nervous all day. He pretty much lied to you this morning about what he'd be doing today and he felt guilty. It was eating him up.

But he also didn't know how to tell you that the hair you love to run your fingers through, braid, tie up, and play with would be gone when he came home later. You always told him you love him no matter what and that you always find him beautiful and attractive. Yet it's eating him up that, this decision he's making might change your mind.

But he needs a drastic change. His hair has been long for too long and it was starting to become obnoxious. Was this an extreme change? Yes, absolutely! But it's what he needs and he knows it, he just hopes you understand and still love him despite it.

~

You're sitting on the couch when you hear the creak of the entryway door. Hyunjin said he was going to the dance studio to practice, but it's only been about two hours, too soon for him to be back. Normally he'd be gone for anywhere from 4 or more hours. Maybe he forgot something.

Standing up from the couch, you're wrapped in a blanket as you walk down the hallway to meet your boyfriend.

"Did you forget-" your words die on your tounge. You look up as he pulls his hat off.

Gone. His hair is gone. For a moment you're conflicted sad that it's gone and simultaneously utterly intranced by his beauty with said new hair style. The way his face takes more of a spotlight, his nose line sharp, cheeks full and flush from the cold air. His eyes borderline cat like. Though his eyebrows are sharp they are furrowed waiting for you to say something, anything.

He looks like he's holding his breath his shoulders up and tense, his back perfectly straight in his puffy coat. His chest rising and falling in short sharp breathes, like your next words could make or break him.

You step closer and you watch his body tense at your movement. Closing the space between you two, you place your hands on his strong jaw line and his eyes go slightly wide. You rub your thumb on his cheeks, the stubble from his face that he didn't shave this morning scratchy against your fingers.

"Jinnie you cut your hair! It's beautiful! You didn't have to lie to me." Your voice is excited and bright but soft and sincere seeing the panick in his eyes. Your words and touch ease him and all his emotions flood as tears well up and flood his eyes.

He can't stop it as a chocked sob racks his body and he hunches over to rest his head in the crook of your neck on your shoulder. You hold him tight and wrap your arms around his large frame. Your hands rubbing up and down his back as he cries. Sweet soft words leave your lips to sooth him as he lets the relief wash over him.

He had no reason to be afraid, he knows something as trivial as a hair cut won't make or break your love for him. But the betrayal of his fans last time he cuz his hair, the awful things they said about him. How many of them abandoned him over it? How many people reduced him down to his looks? He couldn't take a blow like that from you. It breaks your heart to see him this distraught about something as trivial as a haircut.

"I'm sorry I lied to you." Hyunjin says, his voice pouty and soft as he lifts his head and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand.

"I'm not going anywhere silly." You say and pull away from him to look into his beautiful dark chocolate brown eyes. He is still in his puffy outside coat.

You place your hands on either side of his face again, bringing his forehead down to yours. You wipe stray tears from his cheeks with your thumb as he takes a deep breath collecting himself.

You help him take off his jacket and place it on a chair as you grab his hand and guide him, slightly dragging him as he follows you slowly, into the living room.

He sits on the couch and you sit beside him, draping your legs overs his so you're almost sitting in his lap but not quite. Now that you're in the light of the house you get a good look at him realizing not only did he shave his head but he's bleached it blonde!

"Jinnie, I need you to know I'm in love with your new hair!" You say excitedly, over enthusiastic as to try and perk up his mood. You want him to feel confident and happy in his decision. He should, he looks amazing.

A small smile plays on his lips as you bring your hands up to run it across his round head. His hair is soft yet prickly. It's such a fun texture, you could run your hands across it all day.

"I don't know why I was so scared." His voice is regaining its full bodied sound slowly and your satisfied that you've convinced him of how much you love this new look on him.

"I don't know why you were either." You curl up into his chest, legs still draped over his as you listen to his rapid heartbeat begin to relax.

"You know im going to be touching your head nonstop now, right?" You say and he chuckles.

"I had a feeling."

Masterlist

Request ~ Open

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@intrikatie @zennnnny @hannamoon143 @crustless-toast @velvetmoonlght @turtledove824 @skzlover24

[nesepte]

Forbidden Fruit | Na Jaemin (18+)

Pairing: Brother's best friend Jaemin x fem! reader

Genre: sexual tension, angst, mind games, mutual pining, brother’s best friend, jaemin is also a tease, some more tension Warnings: smut (eventual), sexually explicit, unprotected sex, alcohol consumption, drunk sex, smoking, pet names (baby, darling), teasing Please don't read if uncomfortable xD Word Count: 2.1k words

Jaemin was handsome. Jaemin was so bloody handsome that it drove you insane. But he was also Mark’s best friend, and as much as you wanted him, he was your brother’s best friend.

Jaemin was also standing right in front of you, leaning against the door frame, his right hand holding the top for support and his left holding his jacket. His black shirt was unbuttoned till his torso, and his pants were crinkled. His hair was messy and his sighs were heady.

He was drunk. You could smell it.

‘Mark isn’t home,’ you said, hoping he wouldn’t go away.

He looked at you from top to bottom, his eyes stopping at your skirt before looking up.

‘I know,’ he groaned. ‘Can I come in?’

‘Why?’ You blocked his way. It was too risky. Behind her, on the table was the bottle of wine you had downed a few minutes ago and the flush that was creeping its way up to your face was enough to tell you that he shouldn’t be here, not when you were tipsy and alone.

He scoffed, tilting his head to the side. ‘Are you sure you don’t want me to come in?’ he mocked, stepping over the threshold.

You had met Jaemin three years ago when Mark had brought his friends home. You knew all of them except him. He was new. He was different. He did not pat your head like you were a kid, nor did he ever treat you like one of the boys. But different isn’t necessarily good and in this case, it was almost torturous.

Those accidental rub of the shoulders, those unintentional graze of your hands, the stolen glances and the lingering gazes. It was nothing, you told yourself, repeating those words over and over in your head every time Jaemin would visit, till you could think of nothing but him.

‘I can go back, if you’d like.’ His voice came out hoarse.

Without a thought, you took a step back, allowing him inside, and the moment he closed the door behind him without your protests, he smirked, spotting the empty wine bottle on the table.

‘Having a party… alone?’

‘Is there something you want?’ you asked, keeping the tremble out of your voice as best you could.

‘Hm…’ He met her eyes.

‘What?’

But he chose to keep quiet.

Stumbling, he made his way to the table and sat himself down, letting his head lean back. ‘Water…’ he groaned, throwing his jacket on the side and unbuttoning the remaining buttons on his shirt.

This is bad. This is bad, you repeated in your mind, keeping your eyes away from his chest. Your hands were shivering and your face had grown hot. You could feel the heat rising inside you and was sure that you weren’t hiding it well.

‘Here.’ You offered him the glass of water and watched him gulp it down, slowly, the droplets dribbling down his bobbing throat to his chest, drenching his shirt where it still made contact with his skin.

‘Are you done gawking?’ he said, with his last gulp.

The question angered you. It was one thing to tease but you didn’t like the insinuation that you were the only one who was holding back. You had seen him watch too. Those lingering gazes weren’t one-sided.

‘I wasn’t,’ you said, defiantly.

‘Sure,’ he scoffed.

‘As if you have never.’

‘Never what?’

‘Gawked at me.’

He liked this. You could see it in his eyes. The little game that he had just set for the both of you and how you had become a player without ever consenting to it.

‘Maybe I have,’ he said, running his fingers through his dark hair that fell over his eyes and groaned, ‘Ah, but you’re his sister. I can’t. We can’t…’

‘Hey, you alright?’

‘Jaemin was barely holding on. This whisky he had had on his way over was finally taking hold. He shook his head and took out a cigarette from his pocket.

‘Mark won’t like it if you smoke here,’ you warned.

‘Mark won’t like a lot of things I have on my mind right now,’ he slurred and lit the cigarette between his lips. Taking painfully slow drags out of the stick, he blew out the smoke that smelled of whisky, letting the ash fall to the ground.

You waited, still. And when he was done, he let go of the cigarette butt and crushed it beneath his boot.

‘No,’ he answered your earlier question.

‘Hm?’

‘I don’t feel alright,’ he said.

‘Oh, do you want water?’ you asked, knowing already that this wasn’t what he wanted but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction by folding first.

‘No,’ he replied, his eyes steady on you.

‘Want to lie down?’ you asked and he smirked hearing the hitch in your breath.

‘No,’ he whispered. He had to be patient. You were almost there.

‘What do you want then?’

‘Why don’t you guess?’

‘I am not going to play your games,’ you hissed.

‘Don’t act like you are not enjoying this.’

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

He waited, then sighed. ‘Can you rub my back for me?’ Sometimes, it’s better to take a step back to draw the other one out.

Your fingers twitched and your throat gulped dryly. It was obvious, so damn obvious and you hated how your body was reacting to his words.

‘Is there something wrong?’ Do you not trust yourself?’ he said, spreading his legs for you.

This was it. He had laid the perfect bait. Denying the challenge meant admitting to his accusation. Accepting it, meant torture.

Pressing your lips together, you took a step to him and without hesitation, ran your palm down his broad back.

There was no way you were going down without a fight.

You nudged forward between his legs as you slowly stroked his back. It was your turn to draw him out. There was no hurry, not anymore— you took your time, feeling every inch of his back under your fingers, making sure he knew who was in charge right now. Every brush, every stroke, every touch was intentional, pausing where his body reacted but lingering not more than a second. You were not going to give this to him so easily. The heat from your palms spread over his back like a drop of paint in water. He was leaning into it, sighing when he didn’t want to, groaning when he knew he shouldn’t. You pulled him, dragged him out with every rub, your own breath growing heavy seeing his gleaming eyes drooping, sensing his pulse quickening.

Fuck, what have you done.

His hands found your legs. ‘Hm…’ he mumbled against your stomach, pulling you in.

‘Jaemin,’ you breathed out as his palms found their way upwards. ‘We should stop.’

‘We should,’ he agreed with no intention of stopping.

‘This is wrong.’

‘It is.’

‘Stop it.’

‘You first.’

‘I can’t.’

‘Then don’t,’ he hissed and rose to his feet. This was enough.

He pushed you against the table, an arm holding your waist, the other bracing against the edge.

‘How much have you had to drink?’ he asked against your lips, his warm breath fanning over your face.

‘T-The bottle of wine,’ you whimpered.

‘Just that?’ His voice was desperate, his words strained.

‘Just that,’ you echoed and felt him tighten his grip around you.

‘Do you realize what I want to do?’ He pressed his forehead against you, his hands pulling the fabric of your top.

You nodded.

‘I am your brother’s best friend,’ he reminded you and waited.

‘You are my brother’s best friend,’ you replied, lip quivering against his.

‘Are you sure you want this?’ he asked.

You nodded again, your own desperation growing.

‘’No, say it. Do you want me to fuck you?’

‘I want it, Jaemin,’ you almost moaned out. ‘I want you to fuck me.’

‘He grinned against your jaw. ‘Aw, baby, look at you. You sound so pathetic, and I haven’t even started yet.’

This was when you realized how badly you had lost this round.

Shameless as it was, your gaze found his lips, and Jaemin didn’t waste a single second in useless chatter after that. He kissed you, hungry and full, his hand tangled in your hair. And oh, how you melted into him, letting his pull you closer to him.

It was just how you had imagined it countless times before— hot, messy, and desperate. He tasted of whisky and smelled of smoke. It was almost dizzying and you were sure that Jaemin was holding you up. But you inhaled him whole, not wanting to waste a single breath that didn’t pull you closer to him.

He sucked at your lips, nipped and bit when it wasn’t enough, his tongue hot in your mouth. It was almost pathetic how he bucked his hips against you, pressing his bulge, making you moan. He kissed your jaw, his lips trailing down to your neck where he marked you red.

‘Ugh, Jaemin,’ you moaned and he kissed her mouth again as if he had forgotten what it tasted like in the seconds that had passed. He had forgotten how to breathe, how to exist without you.

With a groan, he pulled back and for a moment you thought he was stopping. But when his eyes met yours, you both knew. This was it. But he had to be sure.

‘Baby…’ he whispered breathlessly.

‘Yes, fuck me,’ you cried out.

You couldn’t even make it to the bedroom. It was too far away and the walk was too long. Jaemin helped you up the table. Your hand knocked over the wine bottle and somewhere in the distance you heard it shattering to the floor, the remaining wine spilling out from between the shards behind you.

Unzipping his pants, he pulled your underwear down from beneath your skirt.

‘Oh baby, you are so wet for me,’ he panted against your lips, biting it once again as his fingers worked between your folds. ‘Such a good girl.’

‘Stop teasing,’ you whined as he rubbed his length along your warmth. It was all too much, too agonizing to bear. ‘Please…’

He pushed his way in, slowly, swallowing your moans into his mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head as your legs wrapped themselves around his waist.

‘Mhngh…’

He waited but only for a single torturous moment before pulling out and thrusting in again, harder this time.

‘Y-Yes,’ you breathed.

His pants pooled around his ankles, his shirt drooping off his shoulders, he fucked into you again and again, your bodies falling into a rhythm of their own. The sound of your skins slapping against each other echoed in the hollow, your sinful moans marking each thrust as he plunged deeper into you.

‘Do you like me this much, huh?’ He increased his pace as you clutched onto him. ‘Have you been dreaming about me baby?’

You bit onto his shoulder, your nails digging on his sweaty back.

‘Did you picture this every time I came over?’ he teased, holding you by your jaw to make you look at him. ‘Huh baby? Did you imagine me fucking you every time you touched yourself?’

‘Jaemin…’ You weren’t even listening anymore. His arm around you, his chest against yours, his mouth sucking on your neck and his dick thrusting inside you. You were full— full of him, overwhelmed by his scent, consumed by his body. You felt small in front of his desire, yet to him, you looked the prettiest when falling apart in his arms like that.

‘I know,’ he soothed you, still fucking you into the table. ‘I know, darling. God, I have dreamed about fucking you too. You have no idea how many wretched nights I have spent touching myself thinking about you.’

‘Hm, right there, y-yes, don’t stop…’

‘Oh, don’t worry, baby. I won’t stop till I make you come.’

You threw your head back, the knot inside you threatening to unravel. You screamed his name as you clenched around him, making him groan and bite your shoulder. But he held onto you as you squirmed in his arms from your release.

‘Yes, baby, so beautiful,’ he grunted, his eyes glazed over from watching you come undone like that. He was still thrusting inside you, his own rhythm becoming sloppier and with a final clench, he pulled out, spilling his white onto your thigh.

You stayed still, foreheads pressed, panting into each other’s mouths, your hands refusing to let go of the other. There was a distant knock, probably a doorbell— you two couldn’t tell.

You looked up at him. He was already smiling, or was it a smirk. ‘Mark is going to kill you,’ you reminded him.

‘Small price to fuck you,’ he replied.

[kookochan]

End Of Time

They were dancing under the rain, knowing it wouldn't last forever. Memories were collected and hearts were stolen. Maybe it was never about the rain.

Summary: What if an exchange student changes your whole life, and you're scared of the day he needs to turn back? +18

 

 exchange student jungkook x fem!reader

 

warnings/content: violence (slap), mention of blood, sexual content (loss of virginity, unprotected sex - don't be stupid!), family issues, alcohol, angst, fluffy love TT

wc: 17,3k

 ˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

 

"We are really happy to have you guys here. The atmosphere in the team is also awesome!"

 

The interviewer has a soft smile while saying so. They have been sitting here for only ten minutes, and more than half of the time is already over. Her eyes turn to the more introverted person in the room.

 

"Jungkook, you are one of the best players this season. We talked about your career a lot, but you're the only one who isn't sharing his personal life. Like a relationship, for example. Or your first love!"

 

"Firstly, thank you for the compliment. And yeah, first love and all that-" he says with a polite smile. His mind is going back to a time when he met you for the first time. "I like to keep things in my own little world. That's why I'm not sharing a lot about it."

 

Jungkook is praying that the interviewer wouldn't ask any further questions. Today he is lucky, and the topic changes; all the attention goes to someone else. He is safe, and for a moment he is thinking back to the old times. 

 

˚₊✩‧₊2014˚₊✩‧₊

 

It was a Monday, and you hate the first day of the week. Today should be a little better than the other days because some of the new exchange students were coming. The teacher gave you the job to assist them on the first day. Her reasoning: You were the class representative. You don't know how you managed to be one, but you liked your job.

 

"Yn"

 

You turn around to see which of your annoying friends was calling for you, only to be met with Tae. "What do you want?! It's not even 9 a.m. Let me live!" You say annoyed that he caught you that early.

 

"Calm down, dude. I saw some of the exchange students already. Some of the ladies said one of them is hot. We're lucky to be with them on the first day. Do you have a plan for the day?" He informs you while walking to the class. You don't know how he managed to get all this information. He is always the last one to come to school. It looks like he is excited about the whole situation. You don't want to lie; you are also curious about the newbies. They will be in your class for only 6 months, but maybe you will have a chance to make new friends. The exchange students from last year were two girls who just came to bully others, so it was no fun. But this time it sounds like some of them are also good-looking? You need to check on that.

 

"Hmm, it would be a lie when I say I planned something. Isn't it too strict anyway? Let's just show them the school and eat together. That should be enough for the first day," you say while thinking of other options just in case he isn't agreeing with you. You turn to Tae to see if he has anything to say, but he just nods. "And did you really come here that early to get all the information?"

 

"Nah, I forgot my book and needed to do the homework. So I came a little earlier today. I can already feel the missing 2 hours of sleep," he makes a crying face. You roll your eyes and laugh. "Did you see Jiho or Jia?". "Nope."

 

—

 

"It's getting awkward standing here and waiting for them," Jia says with an annoyed noise. The whole class was waiting for the home teacher to come and introduce the new students. But the whole process was taking longer than expected.

 

After fifteen minutes, you could hear the teacher coming while talking to the students. She didn't introduce them but started talking about important things and the school. Your eyes wander to the two boys standing next to her. And yes, you do know who the girls were calling hot. You could feel his charm, and now the whole situation is more fun for you.

 

—

 

Jungkook is happy to be with you and your friend group. At first he was scared if he could make new friends, and if not, he would be depressed for six months. You guys were hanging out during the school day and sometimes after that. He is also happy that Eun could find friends. For him, Eun is also a nice friend, but he knows that they're opposite personalities. Anyway, the first four weeks were comfortable for him, so he hopes that the rest of the time will be like that too.

 

It was early in the morning, and he was walking to school. Looking around, he notices that you're walking to the subway station. He runs towards you. "Good morning. Caught you!". You jump a little, holding your chest. "Why are you coming like that?!" you point a finger at him. He only laughs at your cute attitude. "Oh, come on, why are you acting like you saw a monster or something? That breaks my heart," he says dramatically. You roll your eyes. "We are getting late, so hurry up!". You can see his pout when you make faster steps.

 

He is fast getting into the tram, and he is holding a seat for you too. You sit between him and the window—the seat he was reserving for you. He smiles and looks around. "Are you coming today? Tae asked to hang out near the beach and grab some beer in the group chat. I didn't see your reply."

 

"Oh, I saw the messages in the morning, so I couldn't reply. But yes, I am in."

 

"Okay, that's nice to hear!" he says while smiling. No, he doesn't know why he gets so giddy when you're around. He is throwing away all the complicated thoughts. He only knows you for like four weeks. He needs to calm down.

 

—

 

The school day was kind of stressful. You got your test results, way lower than expected. You did learn weeks before, and you were confident that you could make it. Okay, it would be a lie to say you would nail it because math is not your strongest subject. Knowing nothing will ever help you understand it makes you feel down. Now you're walking with your friends and Jungkook to the convenience store to grab some snacks and drinks. It feels suffocating; you would rather go home and, you don't know, learn more?

 

Jungkook can see the little cloud above your head, so he walks a little faster to get to you. You are in your own little bubble, not seeing him looking at you. He taps your head to gain your attention. "We are going to chill and not to a funeral." You stick out your tongue. "I thought it was your funeral. How lame". He tries not to laugh, but it just works for two seconds. "No, seriously, what's the matter?". You shrug. "Just math. I really am too stupid to understand that shit."

 

"Come on, man, you act like you need to be perfect! It's okay to fail one subject, and I can also help you a little. Tae asked me too, so we could make a learning group." He suggests kindly. You think about it a little, and then you simply nod. Now his smile goes even wider; you watch him for a while.

 

"Oh my God, finally we're here! I thought we would never make it!" says Tae while breathing like he did six marathons. You break the short eye contact with Jungkook and turn to your friends. "You are so dramatic. And don't get thousands of snacks like last time; we need to walk a little to the beach. I will let you carry them!" You just watch him run into the store without listening. Jungkook laughs about that and follows the others. Sometimes you can't believe how they are older than you. Okay, 1 year is not a big gap, but anyway.

 

After a little shopping tour and two more arguments with Tae, you are walking to the beach. The sun is slowly going down, and you like the vibe. You are lucky that no one had the energy to go that far on the beach, so it is quite enjoyable. Sitting down, you open up the beer, thinking about life. Everyone else looked also deep in thought. Maybe sometimes this is the best way to sort out your mind. When the sunset is almost over, Jiho sighed. "It's getting depressing. Let's go swim." Yeah, funny you thought, never ever. Of course, all the boys jump for the idea and are running towards the water. Your eyes linger a little longer on Jungkook's body. He is giving a show for real, the way he takes off his shirt and flexes his muscles.

 

Jungkook is aware of your gaze. For him, it's just a confirmation that you also do find him a little attractive. No? Is he delulu? Maybe! He enjoys the time playing in the water, but the wet jeans are giving him a hard time. After a quick check with the others, they come back to the spot where you and Jia were lying. Jungkook watches your figure, and he is wondering if you were asleep. He can't stop thinking about your emotions and the fact that a school subject is bothering you that much. Are you a perfectionist? You definitely don't look like one.

 

You could hear the movements next to you, so you open one eye to see what was happening. "Did you have fun?" you ask with a little smile on your face. "The water was a little cold, but besides that, it was fun. Do you want to go into the water too?" he asks while wiggling his eyebrows. You laugh at him, "No, it's too cold for that." His relaxed posture turns a little worried. "Are you cold?". You make a quick 'x' with your fingers.

 

"The boys and I are going to play basketball tomorrow in the late afternoon; do you want to come watch? Maybe we could go grab some lunch after," he suggests. Deep inside, he wants you to come, but you were taking a long time to answer. "Sure, why not? But I need to do some school stuff beforehand, so if I don't reach my goal, I will stay home." He rolls his eyes. "You need to go easier on yourself." You hum, and then you just watch the night sky. After a little hesitation, Jungkook lies next to you and watches the stars. It was comfortable.

 

You guys are sitting there for one more hour, and then you call it a night. Tae is the one who couldn't understand his limits with the alcohol, but it's nothing new. Jiho takes him home, and you bid goodbye to your friend Jia, who is living on the way to your house. Now you are alone, walking with Jungkook. There is a comfortable silence between you two. He is staying alone in a small apartment, but you know that there was a shorter route for him to go home. Anyway, it feels safer to have someone next to you, so you don't even ask him about it. When you reach your house, you turn fully to Jungkook. "Thank you for walking with me," you say. Jungkook acts surprised, "Naah, it's nothing. It's on my way home, so no big deal." You smile at that and wave him goodbye. He watches as you were walking the stairs. When he hears you entering the code and the closing door, he starts walking away.

 

The house is quiet. It looked like everyone was sleeping. And you are happy to finally get out of your shoes. Just in the moment where you open the shoe rack, you see your dad's shoes. You sigh. Yup, this will be a suffocating weekend; it is the only thing that you could think of. Walking to your room, you just pray that no one from your family, especially your dad, would bother you.

 

–

 

You are learning for like 5 hours, and you can feel the headache coming. Standing up, you walk to your bed and kneel down. A little box underneath is smiling at you, and you grab it. Going back to your desk, you open it to see all the sketches and drawings that you made. To free your mind, you used to paint something, and every time you're drawing, it feels like a dream. You wish you could become a famous artist who has done a lot of art. But deep down, you know the opinion of your parents. They were strict about your future. For them, you needed to become a doctor or a lawyer. Everything under that must be powerful as well, or you failed your whole life. Last time you had a conversation about going to an art school, you ended up with house arrest. That's also the reason why you need to hide everything related to that. With the knowledge that nobody is home, you start sketching.

 

You flinch with the phone ringing. The first reaction is hiding everything on your desk. You put everything in your box. After closing it, you put it back under your bed. The person who calls you cut the line. Getting your phone, you see that Jungkook was calling you. There is no way to explain the relief that you were feeling. Dropping on your knees, you almost cried. Why would you feel that way? How unfair it is that you have parents who are not supportive of you. The next thing you hear is something on your window. Turning your head, you scream in fear. Only to see Jungkook screaming too. You throw your phone on the bed and walk to the window, opening it. "What are you doing?!" you say while pulling him inside by his sleeve.

 

"Oh, hi pretty," he says with a grin. He can't be serious, right? You roll your eyes. "You scared me. Also, I have a door." He scoffs at you, "But it's not that dramatic! I'm here to go to the basketball game with you. You can't say no; I climbed up the window!". You look at him unimpressed. "I would also come with you when you just knocked on my door." He has a stupid smile on his face while saying, "So you would go everywhere with me without a doubt?"

 

You ignore his cheesy question and walk to your wardrobe. Opening it, you are thinking of what to wear. A black hoodie and some black jeans are a safe option. Jungkook is busy looking around your room. It was his first time being here. You had a minimalistic room with the colors of white, beige, and blue. Walking to the wall next to your desk, he looked at the pictures with your friends. "We never took a picture together. Let's do it today," he says. There was an old picture of you, and he takes a quick picture of it. 'Cute,' he thinks. Turning towards you, he sees that you are getting changed. He looks away; he didn't want to be a creep.

 

After changing, you both walk out of the house. The basketball court was not that far, so you agreed on walking. "Do you think I will win?" he asks. "I never saw you play, so it's hard to say. Tae is actually really good," you say. Jungkook laughs at you, "He lost all the games when we were playing. I'm just telling you so that you don't lose your bet." You think about it for a while: "Okay, I will trust you, but if I lose my money today, you owe me!". He just smiles. Is it normal for him to feel shy all of a sudden? He needs to win; there is no other option.

 

The match was almost over. Jungkook played with Jiho, and Tae asked a random dude to play with him, so it's fair. Unfortunately, it didn't change the results; they lost. Jia was the one taking a bet for him, so she cursed the shit out of him. While you run to Jungkook to celebrate his win. You both are holding each other's hands and spinning in circles. Yeah, you know you looked like two kids, but it was fun. "Omg, let's stop. I think I need to throw up," you scream at him. He stops immediately and laughs at you trying to balance. "I told you I would win!" he says. You smile at him. Wow, what is this feeling inside you?

 

All of you are sitting on the grass next to the court. The boys sipping water and Jia handing you the money she lost. You wave it a little in the air. The guy playing with Tae, Damien, stands up. "It was nice to meet you, but I need to go home. Maybe we could play someday again," he says while looking at everyone. "Yeah, sure, it was fun! Thank you for joining us," Tae says. Damien smiles at that and turns to you, "I would like to grab a coffee with you." You look up at him in confusion. He didn't expect an answer from you, so he gives you a piece of paper with his phone number on it. You take it with a little thank you. He walks away afterwards. Turning to your friends, you see Jungkook's eyes boring into your sides. The whole situation is forgotten as Jiho stands up and says, "Let's go eat. I will die".

 

Walking to the next ramen place, you notice how quiet Jungkook is. You poke his side. "What's wrong? You won a game, bro." Jungkook pouts at you and asks, "Why did you accept his number?". "I accept it from every guy because I'm too scared of their reaction when I don't accept it. Maybe they would curse me out or follow me home? So creepy," you say with a sincere tone. He looks into your eyes. "I'm sorry that you feel that way. So are you interested in meeting him?". He is playing with his lip piercing; why is he getting so nervous? "Nope, he was not my type," you say with a grin. "But why are you asking and sulking about it anyway? Wait, are you jealous?" you ask while laughing. Yup, he feels a burn on his face. You pinch his cheeks, "So cute." Jungkook wants to fall on his knees and cry. But he acts annoyed, saying, "Fuck off," and wishing you would never do that.

 

–

 

2 months later...

 

Your head is on the table. Jungkook, Tae, and you were learning at the cafe for over 6 hours. You understand more than before, but your head was seconds away from exploding. Tae is in better condition. "I told you to drink more soju. Look at me; I feel like a newborn," he says. You whine at that, "Shut up, please." Jungkook comes back to the table with a tray in his hand. He ordered some ramen and vegetables. Sitting next to you, he strokes your hair. "Come on, eat your food, and you will feel better," he says softly. You sit up looking at the food; you don't feel like eating. Until something is next to your mouth, you turn to Jungkook, who is holding broccoli in his chopsticks for you to eat. You pout and eat it. "Hmm, yummy, right?" he says in awe. You really liked it, so you nod while starting to eat. Turning to him, you see him eat with the same chopsticks that you ate from. That makes you smile. And of course he caught that.

 

Jungkook is happy that you finished your bowl. Now they are waiting for you to come back from the bathroom. He carefully packs some of your belongings into your bag. Tae is watching him the whole time. "I am worried about you," he says. Jungkook looks at him confused. "You know what I mean. Your feelings with Yn," says Tae while looking into his eyes. If there was a chance for Jungkook to flee, he would. But Tae didn't expect an answer or explanation. "I don't want you to get hurt. If you need to talk about it, I will listen," he simply says. Jungkook is shocked but also thankful that he gave him the option to open up or not. He returns Tae's smile.

 

"Why are you flirting?" you say, looking at both of them. Tae acts like putting a strand of hair behind his ear. "Oh my God, we will go on a date tomorrow!". You laugh, but the fact that Jungkook is too stunned to speak made it even funnier. Jungkook shakes his head and gives you your bag. "Come on, let's go." "Wait, why are you blushing?" you ask. That is the last straw for you and Tae to laugh like fools. Jungkook makes a quick 'tsk' before leaving. You are in tears.

 

Tae is the first one to get off the tram, bidding both of you a good night. You wave at him. Some minutes later, it is yours and Jungkook's turn to get off. While walking home, you intentionally bump into Jungkook's side. "Are you mad at my comment?" you ask. Jungkook chuckled at that. "No, all good. I know you were jealous," he says. "Woah, you're really delulu," you say dramatically. "Thank you for today, by the way. I did understand a lot. You're really good at explaining!" you add. He smiles and pokes your cheek. "No need to thank me. We can do it more often, but not that intensely. I thought you would die." You stick out your tongue.

 

"Omg, Jungkook! Look," you say, kneeling down. You start petting the black cat. It is fluffy and super soft. Jungkook takes a picture of you where you are petting the cat. "I want two cats when I move out!" you say, excited. He wants to cuddle with you and the cat. "So you're a cat person. How cute," he says, smiling. "Thank God this one has a home. Look, it has a collar," you say while turning to him. "Maybe it is on his way home," he thinks out loud. You stand up and watch the cat go. "It was so cute, I want to cry," you say, head hanging. He wants to remember this moment forever. Your interaction with the cat, your pout, and your small voice. If he were to die right now, he would be happy.

 

Walking up the stairs, you see Jungkook standing at the same spot. "Why aren't you going home?" you ask, looking down. "I will wait until you're inside," he says, shrugging. You wave at him for the last time before your door closes behind you. Jungkook walks in the direction of his house but changes his mind. Turning around, he is walking to the next supermarket.

 

It is suspiciously quiet in your house. After hanging your jacket and putting on your slippers, you walk towards your room. The TV is turned on, but nobody is sitting in front of it. You feel your heart beating faster when you see your open door. Trying to think positively about it, you walk in. Your room looks like a mess. Everything is shattered, and your mother is in a panic. "What is going on here?" you ask quietly. Only when your father turns around do you see your drawings in his hands. Your bag choosing his own fate by rolling down your arm. There are no words to say. Looking into his eyes, you can see the anger.

 

"What's all of this?" he asks while shouting. "I told you that I'm interested in art. I just sketch or paint when I need to relax," you try to reason. It will not help; they will never understand you. You don't know which part of your answer made him explode, but in seconds he starts ripping all of the papers. "How stupid of me to think that you grew up! Doing this shit instead of studying! Where are the other things? Tell me!" he screams and walks around the room. Your knees give up, and sitting on the floor, you start crying. Taking some pieces of your art while he is destroying everything in your room. Your eyes wander to the open door, your sister standing in the hall with a bowl full of cherries. She is enjoying this. "Look at your sister! She is working hard to get somewhere, and you! How can you be that stupid?" says your mother. Just as angry as your dad. You want to scream, to throw a tantrum, but everything cut off your air. How could this happen? Your dad comes up to you, forcing you to stand up. "You will tell me where all of your stuff is," he yells in your face. "I did nothing wrong," you sob. It's unfair, you want to say. But your head is like under water. Too many thoughts, but no voice. "How dare you talk back to me?" he asks. The next thing you could feel is a burn and pain in your cheek. He slapped you. You could feel the metallic taste in your mouth. For a second, everyone is shocked. But who would he be when he apologized? Instead, he grabs your arm and walks towards the door. "If you don't want to live with our rules, then you can go live elsewhere," he screams. The door shuts in front of your face.

 

You stand there for a while. Your mother or sister would open the door for you, right? But after minutes that felt like hours, you turn around. They will not open the door. Walking down the stairs, you feel empty. By the time it started raining, you looked down. You are wearing some slippers and have no jacket. In your hands are some pieces of paper that you called art. There is nothing in your mind; you just start walking. The rain is fast in soaking you wet. Near a park, you see a bench. No time to think about it more; you sit down. You look down at the pieces of paper and at the bloodstains caused by the rain that is rinsing your face. Empty was the definition of what you are feeling. The cold air makes it worse than it is. You pull your knees to your chest and bury your face on top of them. Crying felt more painful than before. Also, you are scared that some creep would come near, but you have no energy to move.

 

Jungkook hates his decision to go grab some things from the supermarket. He was at the supermarket, but not only there; he also made a stop at the bookstore. He bought two new books and was ready to gift you one. Walking back home, he curses at himself for not getting an umbrella. Near the park, he sees a girl sitting on a bench. He looks at her and wonders why she would be sitting in the rain with only a shirt and slippers. At the same time, you look up at the noise of footsteps. The last person you both expected to see was each other. Jungkook looks at your face; the first thing he notices is the cut in your lip. That was enough for him to run towards you. Kneeling down on the ground, he holds your face with both hands.

 

"What happened?" he asks while being consumed by angst. Your small hands hold his wrists. You couldn't answer his question; you are sobbing and shaking from the cold. He starts taking off his jacket and helps you put it on. "Do you want to go home?" he asks while stroking your hair. Jungkook never experienced something like that. He wants to kill everyone who was the reason for your situation. Also, he doesn't want to hurt you more, but he is scared. Scared of the reason you were in this situation. "I can't go home," you say, trying to wipe away your tears. "Let's go to my house," he asks. Unsure if he would scare you away. But you only nod. He turns around. "Piggyback," he says, and waits. You position yourself, and he stands up to walk to his house.

 

After a quick walk, he gets into the house. Letting you down carefully, he walks to his room to get you some dry clothes. When he comes back, you already start changing. You smile at his oversized black shirt and sleeping shorts. Getting the white socks, you start laughing. Jungkook turned to you while making tea. "You really wear toe socks?" you ask cutely. He smiled, "They're really comfortable!". It was weird wearing those, but you felt comfortable. He comes back with two cups, giving you one. "Thank you," you say, taking a sip. "I will go change quickly, okay?" he asks. You nod, drinking from your tea. You feel warmed up, but you know that you will have a cold tomorrow. Jungkook comes back wearing similar clothes as you. He smiles at you and gives you a blanket. Leaving once again to get the first aid kit.

 

Hugging the blanket, you turn to him. "I had an argument with my family," you say. He sits next to you, listening carefully. "You know, I wanted to go to an art school. I love drawing and everything about art. My family was against it. They want me to become something high. Don't ask me why they think being an artist is low or bad. Anyway, the first time we had that argument, like two years ago, I had house arrest. And yes, I am stubborn, and I didn't stop drawing. Today they found my box with all the sketches. My father turned red. He ripped them into pieces, and when I told him that I hadn't made a mistake, he slapped me. Oh, and he threw me out. " You could feel a tear escaping from your eye. Jungkook is quick; he pads the tear away with a broken smile. "I mean, they are my family. Why can't they accept me with my interests and opinions? Is it that wrong to have dreams? I don't get it; I just want to be loved. Is that too much to ask for?" Your voice sounds whiny. You lean your head against the armrest and cry. "You don't need to question yourself. Of course, it is normal to have expectations of your parents. It's their fault if they're not supporting you. And I know maybe it's easier to say than to do, but you shouldn't give up on your dreams because of them. You're a person who can decide what to do with your own life," he says while playing with your hair. You turn your head to look at him. "Thank you for being with me. I really appreciate it." He smiles at that. "No need to thank me. I will always support you." You sigh and say, "Jungkook, you're leaving in three months. It makes me more sad." Jungkook doesn't want to think about it. "Come here. Let's clean your wound first and then blow-dry your hair," he just says. He is gentle while cleaning your wound, and he also helps you blow-dry your hair.

 

"Do you feel a little better?" he asks, watching the way you look around. You hum, "I like your home! You put a lot of effort into it." Jungkook smiles at your voice. "Thank you," he says. You come back to him, sitting next to him. Awfully cute, he thinks. You know it will make everything more complicated, but you cuddled up to him and closed your eyes. He welcomes you into his arms. Playing with your hair to make you fall asleep. He couldn't help thinking about your family. It makes him so angry to know that they were treating you like that. He wished he could protect you from everyone.

 

–

 

The next morning feels worse than the last night. A headache is bothering you, and you are freezing. You get up from your lying position, looking around. Last night you fell asleep on the couch, and now you're lying on the bed. Jungkook is nowhere to be seen. Standing up, you walk to the living room, which also has the kitchen built in. Opening the door, you can smell some delicious food. Jungkook is cooking something and looks really serious in the process.

 

"Good morning," you say, pouting at your own voice. Jungkook smiles at you, "Good morning. You did catch a cold, right? Poor baby, come here; I cooked some soup." You walk to the table and sit down. "It's so cold," you say while holding the bowl he was giving you. He sits in front of you. "I hope the soup will warm you up a bit," he adds. For the record, the soup looks delicious and smells like a dream. Without a doubt, you eat it up.

 

"They asked about us in the group chat, and I told them that you're sick," he says after eating up as well. Only now do you realize that your phone is in your bag at home. Also, it was Monday. Monday is a school day. Your mouth hangs open now. "Oh my god, I totally forgot about school. Why are you here? You should go," you say, frowning. He simply looks at you disgustingly. "You really thought I would leave like this?". You shrug. Jungkook stands up to clean the table and starts to hum a song. That is a good moment for you to go to the bathroom and wash up. Peeking out of the bathroom, you ask him, "Is it okay for you when I take a quick shower?". He turns to look at you. "Yes, of course. In the closet, you can find some fresh towels."

 

After a quick shower, you come out to find him lying on the couch. You lay down, your head next to his stomach. Thinking about what you want to do. You can't stay here forever; your family will look for you. "I will go home later," you say quietly. He is watching you the whole time. "Are you sure? You can stay here as long as you want," he says, stopping his hand to find your hair. "Thank you for letting me stay. But I need to talk to them someday. Maybe I can move out?" You look up in his direction. "Yeah, maybe that's the best for you and your family. Maybe you need some time alone without them. But are you really going to change your dreams?" he asks hesitantly. "I don't know. I want to become an artist so bad," you say, feeling the urge to cry. "Look, my parents want me to become something important too. But I want to be a basketball player. I will do everything to make it," he says, smiling. "You sit up and show your pinky finger. "Let's make a promise. I will become an artist, and you will be a professional basketball player." He shows his pinky finger too and says, "Promise." So you make a pinky promise. He wants to hold your hand forever.

 

The knocking on the door made both of your heads look in the direction. Your fingers are no longer in a hug. "Aaah, I forgot to tell you that the others wanted to come over. After hearing that you're sick," Jungkook says while smiling with his teeth, He stands up to open the door, and the first one running in is Tae. "Yn, I missed you so much! Are you feeling better?" he asks you right away. You laugh at his words. "I missed you too! And yes, I feel a lot better." Jia puts some snacks on the table, and Jiho's eyes are going between you and Jungkook. "Jiho, no need to look like that. It's not just me having a cold. I had an argument with my parents," you say, knowing he would state some stupid shit. All of them sit down to listen to you.

 

After telling them the whole story without the part when your father slapped you because you're too embarrassed, they looked sad and angry at the same time. "Girl, you're really talented, and I don't think you should give up because of them," Jia says. Jiho and Tae quickly agree. "You can talk to them, and if they don't listen, their loss. We can organize a small apartment to live in." Tae suggests. "I don't know about that. I want to move out, but no money, dude," you say, trying to be realistic. "We can be roommates if you want. Those dorms will let us in, right?" Jia says hopefully. You nod. "You're right; we could try that. But don't feel like you need to do that. I can move in with some random girl." Jia rolls her eyes. "Come on, you know I hate living with my brothers. I was thinking about moving out too." You give her a flying kiss. "You know we can send your dad sketches as a letter," Tae says, like he had the best idea in the world. All of you started laughing. "He would kill us," you say while laughing. "Thank you for being my friends," you say after a while. Is it normal that Jungkook is hearing the word 'friends' echoed?

 

–

 

Jungkook is walking you home. He wished you could stay a little longer, but he knows that you need to talk to them. Back at Jungkook's place, you guys did some research about a dorm and the chances of a room in the middle of the school year. Luck was never on your side. The next free room was at the end of the year. So you wanted to talk to your parents about it and spend the rest of the school year at home until you can move to the dorm. In front of your house, Jungkook turns to you and says, "If anything happens, you just need to look out of your window. I will wait here a bit." You don't know what to say. He is caring a lot for you, and you don't know what to think about the meaning behind it. It's just that you feel special when he talks to you. "Thank you. I will inform you about everything. Don't worry!" you say while walking up the stairs. Jungkook walks over to stand under your window. He would burn the house down if your father tried to hurt you again.

 

You knock on the door, already hearing some steps. The door is opened by your sister. "So you came back," she says, trying to provoke you. The funniest girl, you thought. You walk in, knowing your parents would sit in the living room. Your mother is the first one to notice your presence. "There you are! I know you would come and apologize to your father," she says, a little too happy. You can't control your laughter. "No, I'm not here to apologize, mother. I just came back because I live here. And I don't want to live like you want me to. If you don't like my decisions and dreams, it's your problem. I can live with the fact that you will never support me. If you want, you can act like I died and whatever. I will move out at the end of the school year anyway and will live for my dreams."

 

The room is silent for a while. Your father turns to you and says, "I knew you would never become someone big. It was my fault for not seeing how stupid you are. Do whatever you want! At the end, you will come and beg me to help you out. And on that day I will laugh in your face. Just wait for it. Oh, and I will count the days until you're out of this house. You can go find a husband or a dorm; I don't care anymore," he says, venom in his voice. He really thinks he won? It is a win for you.

 

Turning back to your room, you look out of your window. Jungkook is standing there with a straight face. You quickly grab your phone from your bag and take a picture.

 

YN: Someone is watching me -.-

You see him looking around.

Kook: There is no one?

YN: [picture send] Looook :(

Jungkook looks up.

Kook: Omg, he is so good-looking 😍

You laugh at that.

YN: Jokes aside, I'm good. You can go home🙂‍↕️

Kook: Want to talk about it?

YN: Let's Facetime while u walk home

 

You quickly call him on FaceTime. Letting him stay on your desk while you try to fix your room. You tell him everything you and your father said. "I'm proud of you that you told him right away," he says while watching you move around. "Thanks. Can you see my room? It's such a mess. What was his intention, man?" you ask him while standing in the middle of it. Not knowing where to start. He is actually sad seeing your room in that condition. The last time he came, it was calming. "Yeah, I can help you tomorrow if you want," he suggests. "Nah, no need; I will throw away the stuff," you say. He watches you throw a lot of stuff into a plastic bag the same size as you.

 

Jungkook is already home, but you are in the flow of cleaning up, so he starts to clean up too. When both of you are done, it is already 2 am. You lay down on your bed with your phone. It didn't last long until you fell asleep. Jungkook comes back to his phone after realizing that you're not answering. He sees you sleeping and smiles. Okay, he takes a screenshot. Wishing you a good night, he hung up.

 

–

 

2 months later...

 

The time passed quickly. Now there are only four weeks left until Jungkook is returning home. You spent all day together, sometimes just the two of you, other times with your friends. Not only Tae, but all of your friends could see that Jungkook had obvious feelings for you. You were good at hiding what you felt.

 

It is almost 11 p.m., and you are working on your sketch. To be honest, you have been working on this one for weeks. You want to give it to Jungkook as a gift. It was a portrait of him wearing his favorite basketball team's jersey. The number '97' on the front side. The cozy mood in your room shifted when you heard your phone ringing. You sigh and pick up. "What do you want, Tae?". "Yn, could you come and pick us up? We are soooo full of drinks that it is cra-," he says while burping at the end. "Who are we?" you ask. You could hear the music in the back.

 

"Me and Jungkook silly," he says, laughing. Did you hear him right? Jungkook never told you about going out tonight. "Send me your location," you say, not waiting for a response. You hang up. You change into a pair of jeans and a tight black top. Getting your purse, you walk out of the house. Walking to the next taxi point, you check out the location. Fortunately, it was not that far away.

 

You step out of the car and walk into the location. It is a really crowded bar. You should wear something else and dance a little. Walking through the people with a small 'excuse me,' you give your best looking for them. In one corner, you see both of them with pretty girls around. Oh, okay, someone has fun; you thought watching Jungkook. He feels a burning stare on his face and immediately turns in your direction. You never saw him that drunk. He is waving at you with puppy eyes and a big smile. For a minute, you feel like a sky full of stars. You walk to them to stand in front of the table. Tapping your feet on the floor, you say, "What is going on here?" Tae gets scared and stops talking to the girl next to him. "It was so boring without you," Jungkook says, trying to reach your hand. Cute, you thought. The girls are not that happy about your arrival. You turn to one of them. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to take them home." Surprisingly, she is kind and left with the other girls. "And you both! Follow me," you say, trying to look dangerous. You walk to the door, and after looking over your shoulder, you see that they are following you with their heads down. Oh, you totally feel like their mother.

 

Outside, you look at both of them. "Let's wait here for a taxi," you say. Then you decide to bring both of them to a wall on which they could lean. They are drunk as fuck. And of course there are no taxis around. You sigh in annoyance. "Can you both walk? There is no taxi; all are full. Maybe we could grab a coffee somewhere and go with a bus?" you suggest. "I'm fine; let's go," Jungkook says with a smirk. You want to rip that out of his face because you're melting. You stand in the middle of both, Tae holding one of your arms and Jungkook acting like he is totally fine. You guys start to walk down the street.

 

After ten minutes, you see an open cafe. You turn to Jungkook, "I will grab some coffee. Stay here with Tae, okay? You guys can also sit down on the sidewalk," you say. He nods his head, watching you walk in. "Look at those; they are laughing at us," Tae says while looking at a group of men. Jungkook looks in their direction. The group of men stopped talking and turned fully to them. "What are you looking at?" one of them says. "You're laughing at us!" Tae says. All of the men start laughing. "Come on, stupid boy, turn around. Your ugly face is giving me a hard time," another man says. "Who are you calling ugly?" Jungkook says, walking in the direction. At this moment, you walk out with two coffee cups in your hand. You are shocked to see that some of the men are walking towards Jungkook and that Jungkook and Tae are walking to the men. "You little shit, I will fuck you up," the man says. That is a clear signal for you to cut in.

 

"I'm so sorry, please stop this," you say while walking to Tae. Jungkook gives you a side eye. Not liking the fact that you apologized. "Go to the side, lady, if you don't want to get hurt," the shorter man says. "Who are you to talk to her like that?" Tae says. Jungkook was ready to throw a punch. You watch all the men standing there. There are five people, and you would count Jungkook and Tae as one person due to the fact that they were drunk. Without thinking much, you throw both of the coffee cups in the direction of the men. A loud gasp is heard from them. The coffee was hot. You turn to Jungkook and Tae and scream, "Run!".

 

You never ran away like this. The group of men is hot on your tracks. You feel like passing out at any moment. The energy is leaving your body. Jungkook notices that and holds your hand to pull you with him. After a run into small alleys, you stop. They lost you. Jungkook leans on the wall. Tae is sitting on the floor, and you are holding your knees. All of you needed a moment to catch your breath. When you look at both of them, you start laughing. It is so loud that an old woman opened her window to yell at you. With that, you walk away.

 

On your way, you finally found a taxi. Firstly, you made a stop at Tae's house. You help him get inside. Returning to the taxi, you give Jungkook's address. He is leaning against the window with a big smile. You look at him in question. "Are you mad at me?" he asks. He stopped smiling and looked like he was seconds away from crying. "Why should I?" you ask back. "I didn't know that he wanted to go to a bar. I would tell you. You know that, right?" He reaches for your hand. Now he is playing with your fingers. "Don't worry, I know you would tell me. I was just a little shocked," you say while smiling at him.

 

The car stops in front of his house, so you head out and help him get into the house. He sits down on the couch, and you help him get out of his shoes. "Next time when you go to a bar, you shouldn't drink that much. You both did! What would you do if nobody could get you?" you scold him. "I swear I said just one glass, and then he said, don't be a pussycat; drink more," Jungkook says. You look at him annoyed, "Wow, so smart of you." After helping him take off his shirt, you ask, "What were you guys talking about with the girls?". He scrunches his nose and replies, "Nothing; they were bubbling. Why are you asking?". You hum and toss the clean shirt in his face. "Ouch!" he says, still catching it. "Oh, sorry, I thought you saw me throwing it," you say. "Noooo, you're jealous!" he says after putting the shirt on. He quickly changes his jeans into black jogging pants. "I'm not jealous," you say. "I don't believe you! Don't worry, baby, you will be my number one forever," he says while wiggling his eyebrows. "Oh, shut up. Come on, go do your nightly routine, and then go sleep," you say after tossing the clothes that he took off into the laundry basket. "But you will stay here, right?" he asks with puppy eyes. You nod and smile at him.

 

After his nightly routine, Jungkook went to bed and fell asleep in the same second his head touched the pillow. You watch him from the doorframe. A little sad about the fact that he is leaving soon. You wish he would stay forever. Also, you do know that you two had a different bond than with the others. But nothing precious like this lasts forever, right?

 

–

 

It was early in the morning, and you were standing in Jungkook's kitchen. You were never good at cooking, but today you want to top your own skills. Tasting the soup, you scrunch your face. Yeah, you should do a favor for everyone and never cook again. You add some seasoning to make it more tasty. It is weird to feel that much like it's your own home. The thought of this ending soon makes you sad.

 

You are in your thoughts when Jungkook comes out of his room, his feet sweeping the whole floor. You turn around and watch his tired face until he looks up to meet you. He immediately starts smiling, "I thought you left." You gasp, "I was cooking for you! Come eat some, and then you can take some painkillers," you add. Jungkook rushes to his chair and starts eating. "You don't want to eat?" he asks you. You just shook your head. "Nope, I will meet Jia later. We have a girls date." He nods. Watching him eat was enough for you to light up your mood.

 

"Why did Tae want to go to a bar?" you ask while cleaning the space you used for cooking. He is done with eating. "I don't know; he told me he felt like it," he answers. It would be a lie if he said that he is not scared of your opinion about him now. The last thing he wants is for you to get a false impression of him. You walk towards him and hand him the painkillers with a glass of water. He gives you a flying kiss and swallows. "I need to go now. You can rest a bit," you suggest. Jungkook looks at you with puppy eyes. "Have fun," he says. You waved at him and left the apartment.

 

After doing his morning routine, Jungkook sits down with a paper and a pen. If anyone were to tell him that he was going to write a letter, he would definitely laugh at that. But no, it was the truth. He was shy to say the thoughts he had in his head, and he was a better writer. So why not write a letter about his feelings? He starts writing, and it got longer than he expected. After some hours, he finishes writing and looks around. Of course he needed to rewrite the letter over and over again. So he stands up and throws the scattered papers away. On his way back, he gets an envelope to put his letter in. Will he ever be able to give it to you?

 

–

 

11:30 PM

 

Jungkook wakes up from his sleep. His phone is vibrating the whole time. He doesn't know when he fell asleep. Sitting up, he gets his phone and sees missed calls and messages from you. He feels nervous scrolling through the messages.

 

Yn: I think I'm in trouble?!?!?!

Yn: Could you maybe pick us up?

Yn: I guess you're asleep. Sorry for disturbing.

 

He didn't waste more time reading all of your messages; instead, he called you right away. It took you longer to answer, and he didn't even realize that he was holding his breath. "Omg, Jungkook?!" you ask, out of breath. "What happened? Are you okay? I fell asleep, so I didn't see your messages," he asks. You sigh and add, "Sorry, I didn't mean to make you worry. We got in trouble with some guys. We're at the hospital right now. But we're okay! Jiho is on the way." Jungkook stands up and walks to the door. "I'm coming," he says while rushing down the stairs. You could hear him running.

 

"Thank you for coming, Jiho," Jia says. You could see that she was tired. "Jiho, could you bring her home? I will walk; it's not that far," you ask him. "Is Jungkook coming?" he asks back. "Yes, he was on his way. I will walk with him; don't worry," you say and wave at them. At the same time, you see Jungkook rushing towards you. You try to smile because you know he would scold you a little.

 

"Omg, what happened?" he asks right away. "Good night to you too," you say, half joking. You pull him with you while walking home. "We just had an argument with some dudes. They were bullying a young boy, so we tried to help him. But they were a little drunk and started to push us. Then the police came out of nowhere, and we escaped without realizing that we didn't do anything wrong. That's it," you say nonchalantly. He looks at you in shock. "Did you get hurt? Why would you run away?!" he asks while checking up on you. "I just scratched my arm because I felt down. But it doesn't hurt anymore," you say, holding his wrist. "Yn! It's so dangerous to get into an argument with strangers. Why would you do that?!". "Oh, come on, Jungkook! I just wanted to help that poor boy!" you say, scoffing. He looks at you like, 'Oh, really?' "You could call the police," he says. Yes, you could, but in that moment everything happened so fast that you forgot to think about it.

 

"Stop scolding me! I will never call you again," you say, getting mad at him. "Oh, come on! You know that I'm right. I'm just thinking about you. Show me your injury," he says a little softer. "I don't want to," you say, pouting at him. He starts stroking your hair. "Come on. I'm just worried about you, and I don't want you to get hurt." You give him a side eye. "Next time call me and I'll show them what it is to argue with you," he says, wiggling his eyebrows. It's his way of making you laugh by saying random things. You just want him to go on and see his limits. "I'm getting sad. Are you ignoring me for real? Did I say something wrong? That wasn't my intention. I just got scared, and also I don't want to come to the hospital and see you in other conditions," he says, looking at his shoes. "I'm not mad! I just wanted to give you the silent treatment. I know that it was stupid to get into a fight with them. That was the last time. We were a little stupid, I promise," you say, patting his head. He immediately smiles up. It was nice to know someone cared for you.

 

–

 

School days are always boring and tiring. Today is exactly the same way. You and your friends are sitting in the school cafeteria because of the one lesson where the teacher was sick and you guys had study time for your own. You are drinking mango juice while taking notes for the next lesson. "Did you look for some colleges to go to after finals?" Jia asks. Tae scoffs at the question, "Why is everyone asking that? My parents also started talking about it, and I really feel nervous." You pat his back with a sad smile. "I'm interested in laws, maybe in that area something," Jiho says. To be honest, you are thinking about this question a lot because you know you have to deal with your parents. You had a lot of discussions with them, and you know their opinions will never change, but it felt like a big stone in front of your dreams. It's hard to go on a lonely journey without them, and you're scared that things will turn out differently than expected. Jungkook notices that you were deep in thought, so he slightly taps your arm. Turning towards him, you smile softly. "What about you? Art, is it right?" he asks and tilts his head, remembering the pinky promise. "I'm not sure about it," you answer honestly. The other three are deep in conversation, so it feels a little easier to open up. "What's that supposed to mean? I thought it was a big dream of yours," he says, looking a little confused. "Yeah, it is. But I'm not ready to deal with my family, I guess.".

 

"You know it's your life, and nobody should dig into it. Why would you give up your dream for them? I know they're family, but at the end of the day, you can try what you dream of." He is looking into your eyes with hope. "It's easy for you to say so, Jungkook. I've been dealing with them for over five years about this topic. It was not allowed to own things based on art. Do you really think they will be okay with it? I know I told them that I would move out and live my dream. But I don't know what if I'm the only one thinking it is worth it? Sometimes I overthink about it. At the end, my decision is my dream, but I'm also confused." you say with a straight face. "Look, I know what you mean, but if you go to that college, they will accept it at the end of the day, and you're thinking too much about it," he says. "No, they will not. They will wait for a moment to see me fall so that they can say we told you. And you know they would never offer me a helping hand. If I go for my dreams, I will lose them. And this doesn't even sound scary. I would be okay with that now, but will I be in the future?" you say while shaking your head. "Ah, come on, that's too dramatic. You need to take a risk sometimes. I also have the feeling that you're scared. Why don't you trust your skills? 

Don't be a chicken and be scared of a new way!". He is scolding you for your words.

 

It is strange to feel hurt by that because he was trying to give you some courage. You also don't know why the next words come out like that. "Sorry that I'm scared to be alone and confused about my future. I wish my parents would be like yours, sending me to other cities and countries for my dreams. We are not on the same boat, Jungkook." His words feel like salt over a wound. How pathetic! You need to give up all your dreams for your parents, and other parents would give up everything to fulfill their children's dreams. Jungkook is stunned to say anything; it totally took him off. You gather your things and thoughts. "I need some books at the library; see you in class" are your last words before leaving. Jungkook watches you and turns to his friends, who are looking at him questioningly. "What happened?" Tae asks. "I think I crossed a line without realizing." He could feel a sting in his chest. It never was his intention to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable.

 

Jungkook wanted to talk to you again, but you were busy doing other stuff. Ignoring him till the end of the school day and also disappearing on the way home. For him, it feels like weight.

 

–

 

"Oh, come on, man, slow down," Tae says while trying to get the bottle in Jungkook's hand. "I texted her, and she didn't even respond to me. She will never talk to me again? Fuck, I never thought I would make her feel hurt," he responds. The boys met for a drinking session, and he was already tipsy.

 

"Bro, maybe she wanted to think it over before talking with you. She does that a lot. You know we had a lot of arguments, and she never ghosted me," Jiho says with a little smile. Jungkook finishes his glass full of soju. "I don't know," he says. He will try every chance to talk to you again, but he feels like shit knowing that he hurt you. "You can buy something really big for her birthday! It's on the weekend, remember?" Tae suggests. Jungkook freezes on his spot. "Her birthday?" he asks. "Yeah, on Saturday," Jiho answers. "She will not invite me to her birthday, right?" he cries out. Both men are shocked and watch his little tantrum. "I will go and talk to her," Jungkook says while getting up. Tae tries to stop him, but it isn't working. He is already on his way to you.

 

You are brushing your hair after a shower and also think about the conversation with Jungkook. Yeah, you totally overreacted because he never wanted to make you feel bad or anything like that. You decide to talk to him tomorrow and tell him that you're a little sensitive and that you are sorry for the reaction. After finishing your nightly routine, you walk to your bed. At that moment, someone familiar opens the window and crawls in. You are so shocked that nothing comes out of your mouth, and you grab a pillow to throw it at him. Jungkook looks up to meet your eyes.

 

"Oh my god, are you crazy?!" you whisper at him. "Hi," he says with a lazy grin. "You are not answering my messages, so I needed to reach out," he adds. "I wanted to talk to you in person tomorrow, dummy," you answer. You walk to the door and lock it. Turning back, you sit down in front of him. "Look, I know I hurt you, but that was never my intention. I just wanted to help you make a decision. But I know it's not okay to say you're a chick. You're not! I should empathize more. I can understand if you don't want to talk to me, but give me a chance. Hmm, I will do everything you want! Maybe I could buy you so-" He starts talking, but you cut him off with your hand on his mouth. "I'm sorry I overreacted a little bit. You know I'm really sensitive with this topic because everything seems like a burden to me. But I never forget our pinky promise. Don't worry," you say and reach for his hand. He watches the way you are holding his hand and moving your thumb up and down. "No, I'm sorry. I wanted to make you feel better and feel supported, but it was the wrong way. I know how hard it is for you. How you're struggling with them. You feel little with them, right?" He is looking straight into your eyes. You could feel the tears threatening. "I feel lonely," you confess, and a little tear escapes your eye. He is quick enough to catch your tear with his fingers. "I will be here for you," he says. "You're leaving soon," you reply. "I love you," he says with a smile. "You're drunk" is the only thing you could say. "Maybe! But my feelings will not change because of alcohol," he whispers. Maybe it was like a promise. It wasn't easy to hold onto that because knowing that all of this will end soon made you feel sick.

 

For a moment you want to hold the time and forget everything else. You lean forward to kiss him. He caught that quick and also leaned in. Kissing him felt like a new wave of hope. He is holding your cheek to deepen. After some seconds, you pull away to catch your breath. Jungkook smiles at you and kisses your cheek. "Come on, drink first, and after that, we can sleep on my bed," you say while standing up. Jungkook sits down on the bed waiting for you. On your desk is a cup of water that you hand him. He drinks all of it while looking at you. It makes you nervous, and you couldn't hold your laugh. "You're cute when you're drunk," you say. He pouts at you, "Just when I'm drunk?". You help him lay down and take your own spot. Jungkook pulls you into his arms and starts stroking your hair. Tonight, after a long time, is the first time that you fell asleep right away. And your sleep was actually good.

 

–

 

The next morning came fast. You are the first one to open your eyes, watching him in his peaceful sleep. You start playing with his soft hair. If there was a chance of a wish for you, you would wish for him to stay with you. But you're not selfish enough to ask him to stay. Would he consider that anyway? You watch him open his eyes and look around before finding yours. He smiles at you lazily and brushes one strand of hair behind your ear. His movements are soft, and you want more.

 

"Did you sleep well?" you ask him while sitting up. He is holding your hand and nods. "I would like to offer you breakfast, but if my parents see you, we are both dead," you say. Jungkook finally sits up and pats your head. "All good. I will wait for you on the bench so we can go to school." You nod and stand up to go to the bathroom. He didn't want to let go of your hand, but he gave up soon. After finishing your routine, it was Jungkook's turn. You start to change your clothes when Jungkook finishes his job. He froze on his spot when he caught you without your sleeping shorts. It didn't take him long to turn around and quickly say, "Sorry." You laugh at that and try to hide your red cheeks that you got. When you're done, Jungkook escapes from the window, and you prepare two sandwiches for the way.

 

As promised, he is waiting on the bench with a big smile. "Here, I made you a sandwich," you say while offering. He takes a bite without taking it from you. You watch his face getting angry. Yep, that is a good sign. Then he takes it from your hand and starts eating.

 

–

 

It was Thursday, and Jungkook was five seconds away from getting on his knees to cry. Tae is holding his arm because he knows what will happen when Jungkook stops you. For the record, it was after school, and everyone wanted to go on a shopping trip, but without you. The reason was obvious: your birthday presents. And of course you asked them if they wanted to grab a boba with you. They needed to make some weird excuses, and your face changed into a sad expression. As you walked away while saying, "Okay, I will go alone and see you tomorrow," Jungkook was ready to call you back. Jia turns to the men standing next to her and says, "I will go with her. I bought my present a long time ago." She is rushing to get to you. "Calm down, dude. She will understand," Tae says to Jungkook. So the men club walks to the nearest shopping mall. Tae and Jiho are deep in thought about the perfect gift. Jungkook knows what he wants to buy.

 

"Where were you, man?" Tae asks after Jungkook came. "I bought the present," he answers. "Dude, I thought we were going to look together. That's unfair," Jiho says while pouting. "I knew what I wanted to buy, so it was easy. Now I can help you guys," he says. Tae waves with the bag in his hand and says, "We already bought something." The three of them went to the food court and ate. Jungkook is sitting with his phone in his hand, waiting for your response.

 

Kook: What are you doing??

sent

 

Tae and Jiho shared a knowing look. Both want to say something, but it is easier while they were practicing than now. "Are you feeling something towards yn?" Jiho asks. The question so heavy that also Tae choked on his drink. Jungkook looks up in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asks. "Come on, don't act stupid. You know what I mean. Just answer the question". All of them are quiet for a moment.

 

"I never felt something like this towards someone," he says after a while. Tae smiles at his words, "We can tell." Jungkook shrugs his shoulders. "I know it's unrealistic. I will leave soon. I don't know how I will turn back to my usual life and pretend like nothing happened here. I can't ask her to come with me, and I can't stay because I don't know if she is feeling the same way. Thinking about it makes me feel like dying slowly". Both men are listening to him with a sad expression. "Every end can be a part of a start. Just because you're leaving doesn't mean it will end. You can go to a college in the same city or nearby. Meet up every other day. It's all about communication, Jungkook. If both of you want a future together, then it will work out. You both just need to make some efforts. You should find the answer to her feelings first," Tae says while tapping on Jungkook's shoulder.

 

Jungkook nods. "You think we could work?" he asks with teary eyes. "Of course. Love shouldn't be about a perfect plan. It will make it more passionate when you need to fight for it. Time will show you at the end if it's working. And if not, you will at least not regret anything," Tae answers. "Thank you, Tae. That was a big help for me," Jungkook says and wipes off his tears. A small sob is heard. Both of them are confused and turn to Jiho, who was crying. "I'm all whiny when it comes to love struggles," he says, struggling to speak. "I never saw Jiho like this," Tae says and starts laughing. Jungkook joined him and thanked God that he met friends like them.

 

–

 

You are sitting with Jia, sipping from your boba. Your mind was on someone else, yes, of course Jungkook. Why would he go without you? Now some scenarios going inside your head. How ridiculous to think about the worst cases; he is seeing someone. Jia senses that you were deep in thought. At the same time, she is checking the birthday group for pictures of the gifts that the boys are sending. Your phone vibrates, and that is a good thing for stopping your weird thoughts and a help to come back to this moment. Jungkook's message makes you smile; he was thinking about you. But who would you be if you answered right away? With a lighter heart, you start talking with your best friend and forget to reply.

 

–

 

Kook: Are you alive?!

sent

Kook: Are you ignoring me? TT

sent

 

He is seconds away from walking to your house and climbing up the window. It is enough for him to fuck up the plan and tell you everything about the present shopping just to clarify that he would love to go to the mall with you, and he would never say no to a boba date. He randomly stands up from his bed and picks up his jacket. If you're not answering, then he will get the answer face to face.

 

Yn: Why would I ignore you? o.o

 

Jungkook heard his phone vibrating and threw away the jacket in his hands. Jumping on the bed to lie back and answer quickly.

 

Kook: Idk... you didn't reply

Yn: Sorry, my battery died:(

Kook: nah it's okay now I know that everything is fine

Yn: yes! Good night 🫶🏼

Kook: good night <3

 

He needs to see you tomorrow to check if you're sulky at all.

 

–

 

You are walking to the classroom with a big smile on your face. This morning you decided to cook for yourself and Jungkook. Okay, you're not the best cook, but it tasted really good. Halfway through the hallway, you stop in your tracks. Is that Jungkook with the pretty girl from the other class? They are talking and laughing. You never saw them talk before, so it's hard to understand from where the closeness came. You watch them a little, and seeing her touching him the whole time makes you sick. The feeling is new in your heart, but you don't want to overthink it. Could it be that your weird scenarios from yesterday were true? Are they more than strangers? Bitter, you feel bitter.

 

Jungkook talks with Yuna about a school club. Explaining that he was gone next week, so he couldn't extend any of the clubs. He is talking to her for the first time, but he can feel that the girl in front of him wants to know more about him. The conversation is smooth, and he has fun. Until his eyes wander off to the back, and there you are standing. You look a little confused. His eyes meet yours, and that is a signal for you to walk away. Jungkook's face drops quickly, and he cuts the conversation off gently. Wishing her goodbye, he walks to the class.

 

By the time you are sitting at your desk and looking at something on your phone. The weather is perfect. Jungkook sits in front of you. "Good morning," he says. You didn't look up but answered quickly with a good morning. From the corner of your eyes, you could see him sulking. "Are you mad at me because of yesterday? Come on, I will tell you about it tomorrow!" he says. This is a big hint because tomorrow he wants to count down your birthday. "I'm not mad at you because of yesterday. I just thought we were close enough that you would tell me about the girls you're seeing," you say while putting your phone away. He opens his mouth to say something, but he is stunned. "I'm not seeing anyone. Why would you think that?" he asks. You start looking at him in disbelief. "The girl from earlier wants you. It was so clear," you say. He laughs at that and adds, "I don't care about that; I want someone else." Why is he wiggling with his eyebrows right now?!

 

"Anyway, I don't care. I cooked lunch for both of us, but now I don't want to share," you say with a pouting face. "Aw, don't lie. You care! And how cute of you to cook for me as well. Can we please share? I want to taste it," he says. You start glaring at him, but his cute face is no help. He starts playing with your fingers. "You know the day I came to your room a little drunk after our first fight?" he asks, not looking up. You nod. "I remember what I said. And I was honest about it". He looks into your eyes. You never answered, but that also never was his intention. He wanted to talk about his feelings, and he will wait until you can talk about yours. His words are enough to make you smile. "I like serious men," you say. "So you like me?" he asks. You look around the room; everyone was inside their own bubble. You come closer to kiss him on the cheek. "Answer your own question," you whisper. It feels like a dream.

 

At lunchtime you take out two lunch boxes. One in front of Jungkook and one in front of yourself. He opens it with sparkling eyes. "It looks so good, omg," he says. You also cut the vegetables in star shapes. He laughs at that and starts eating. You watch his expression, and seeing him angry was a good sign. Eating happily together is peace for both of you. "Do you have plans for tomorrow night?" he asks after finishing his food. "Hmm, no. Why?" you look at him. "Let's do something together and count down. On Saturday we could celebrate with the rest of the group," he suggests. "Okay, I'm in. What are we going to do? you ask. "It's a surprise," he answers, smiling.

 

–

 

It is Friday night, and you are getting ready to meet Jungkook. You decide to wear a black skirt and a cropped brown turtleneck. In front of the door, you wear your leather jacket, scarf, and black Converse. Of course you told your parents that you are going to Jia.

 

Walking down the street, you see Jungkook waiting. He looks hot with his hair done and an outfit that is matching yours. He sees you coming and waves. Only then did you see the red roses in his hand. That makes your heart skip a beat. "Hi," you say with a shy smile. "Hi, you look beautiful," he says and hands you the roses. "Thank you! They're so pretty, like you," you say while smiling like an idiot. "Come on, let's go. We only have 30 minutes. We will count down at home," he tells you the plan for the night.

 

After a quick walk, you could see the sea shining. The stars are beautiful, and you feel happy after a long time. "Actually, I wanted to eat the cake here with you, but then I decided to only watch the stars with you instead," he says. "You know that I love the night and the sea," you say. Now you were walking beside the water. It is calming to walk while listening to the water. "I think you were right. That girl from yesterday found me on Instagram and texted me," he suddenly shares. You look at him confused and ask, "What did she say?". "If I want to meet her," he replies. You frown at that. It is selfish to want him only for yourself because, yeah, he is hot, and every girl would want him. "Don't worry; I blocked her right away," he says after the pause. "Why would I worry?" you say, trying to hide the relief. "So you would be okay if I went out on a date with her?" he asks, surprised. "Slow down," you say faster than expected. Jungkook couldn't control his laugh. "Don't worry, baby, I'm all yours," he says, holding up both of his hands. You turn to him with an annoyed expression. "Stop teasing me." "Me? I would never. But you're pretty when you're jealous," he says and continues to laugh.

 

"You wish for a tragic death," you say while putting the roses behind you. Then you push him into the water. It is so sudden that he loses his balance and falls into the water. You start laughing at him. But you didn't expect him to pull you. It is not deep enough, but your clothes are wet anyway. Both of your laughs ringing in the air. Jungkook places his hands on your waist and starts to dance. Both of you lost in each other's eyes. When was the last time you felt this happy? He starts to sing a love song you never heard before, but you love it. After he finishes, it is a sign for you to move closer. His lips so dangerously close to yours. You start kissing him while your fingers make their way up to his hair on the back. He quickly matches your lip movements. Slipping his tongue inside your mouth. The moment is like an old romantic story. You break the kiss to catch a breath. Both of you are smiling happily. Until you splash water into his face. A second of silence before you grab your roses and start running in panic. He is so fast, "Yah! Don't run away!" he screams behind you. Now you know what to wish for when you blow out the candles.

 

You are getting inside Jungkook's apartment. He tells you to wait in the living room. You use the time to take off your jacket and put the flowers on the table. Because of your wet clothes, you sit down on the floor. Five minutes later, Jungkook comes back with a birthday cake. Your favorite, strawberry cheesecake. The lights of the candles a beautiful contrast on his skin. He starts singing happy birthday, and you couldn't resist hiding your face with your hands. He sits down in front of you, placing the cake on the table. "Come on, blow it off," he says. You close your eyes for a moment. Thinking of the perfect wish, him. Opening them, you blow out. He claps his hands and starts cutting the cake. You don't know why you want to cry right now. Feeling emotional about the whole situation. Tears pour down your face, and you hate yourself for ruining the moment. Jungkook looks up to give you the slice. "A big slice for the birthday prince—" he stops mid-sentence. You could see the worry in his face. "What happened?" he asks. "I don't want you to leave me," you say with a sob. Saying it out loud made it more painful. He would be gone next week. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat. "I don't want to leave too," he says, reaching for your hand. You couldn't stop crying, and he comes next to you. Hugging you tight, you lean on his shoulder. "I'm sorry for ruining this now," you told him. "Yah come on. For me it's important what you feel. Never hide it from me, okay?" he says. You nod your head. His gentle fingers are wandering on your back.

 

Pulling away, you look into his eyes. He brushes your hair away. This time it is him who leans closer to kiss. It feels more intimate than at the beach. He pulls you into his lap while holding your waist. The kiss deepens, and you start to move on his lap a little. Feeling a heat between your legs. His hands sliding inside your cropped turtleneck. You break the kiss and look at him with lust. "Do you want to go on?" he asks with a low voice. Nodding your head, he stands up with you on his arms. He places you on the bed and gets off his shirt. You watch his body while he gets onto the bed and starts kissing your neck. "You're so pretty," he whispers. "Can I take this off?" he asks while his fingers pull at the turtleneck. "Yes," you say a little nervous. You help him get it off. His hands start discovering your body quickly. And the next, your skirt was gone. Lying between his legs, he starts placing kisses around your boobs and stomach. Playing with the hem of your panties, he looks into your eyes for confirmation. You nod quickly and brush his hair with your hand. He takes them off, and they find a place on the floor. "Fuck," he says and starts playing with your sensitive folds. Your moans fill the room. Jungkook is quick to start with his tongue. "You taste amazing, baby," he says. You start fisting his hair. It felt better than imagined. After some time you moan his name, "Oh my god. I think I- I'm coming," you say. "Come pretty girl," he says softly. It is enough for you to shake underneath him. He swallows you happily.

 

After coming down from your high, you open your eyes. He is watching you like you are the prettiest night sky. The next thing gone is your bra. His fingers and tongue playing with your boobs gently. You had enough courage now to start wandering your fingers on his chest. They quickly find his belt, which you open right away. He helps you take off his pants. Only in his boxers, he watches your body. In his eyes you were the most beautiful he ever saw. His fingers find your folds again. This time pushing in. You moaned at the sudden stretch. He adds one more finger and gently pushes and pulls out of your hole. When he thought it was enough, he pulled out and licked his fingers with a smile. You smile back at him and play with the hem of his boxers. He takes them off, and your eyes wander to his dick. Yeah, he definitely is big. "I need to tell you something," you say. He caresses your face and says, "Tell me, baby." "I never did this before. It's my first time," you whisper a little embarrassed. He smiles at that. "We can stop here if you want." You pout, "No, I want this." "Okay, we will do this together. It will hurt a little, but then you will feel amazing. Trust me?" he says, planting a kiss on your jaw. "I always trust you." "It's also the first time for me," Jungkook says. Now feeling more emotional. You smile at him. "Shit, I have no condom. I can go and buy some," he says, frustrated trying to get off. You stop him. "It's okay for me. I'm on the pill". He nods at that.

 

"Are you ready?" he asks while starting to stroke his dick. "Yes," you answer. One hand is holding yours, and the other one is guiding his dick to your entrance. He slowly pushes his tip in. "Relax, baby." Pain shoots up through your body as he pushes his length into you inch by inch. You moan his name, and he is kissing your neck while his free hand caresses your hips. With a final thrust, he is all nestled in. He waits for you to adjust to his size. You close your eyes, feeling tears filling. It feels stretched, and it burns a little. But feeling Jungkook's lips on your body makes it all better. "You can move," you say. That is a sign for him, so he starts to slowly pull back and push in. He moans at the sensation. Quickly finding a pace that is okay for both of you. It is more than fucking; it is making love. Your bodies and hearts were one. His room is filled with the sound of bodies and moans. The night is long until you shook underneath him, reaching your high. He soon after spilled his thick ropes of cum into you. Feeling it makes you moan into his lips. After controlling his breath, he slowly pulls out and watches his cum spilling out.

 

Jungkook helps you clean up, and you took a shower together. You are in his arms like a koala when you turn back to his room. Wearing one of his shirts. He sits you down on his desk with a kiss on top of your hair. Then he turns to the bed and starts changing his sheets. You see the little bloodstain on it. After unfolding the fresh sheets, you lay down. He hugs you tight. "I love you." You kiss his cheek as an answer to his words. Sleep was pulling you, and Jungkook was happy to watch you.

 

–

Jungkook is the first one to wake up. He enjoys the view and starts playing with your hair. His head full of questions, are you going to regret everything? Your eyes flutter open and meet his. You smile at him and move closer to warm up. He smiles at that and hugs you even more. "Good morning, baby," he says. You place a kiss on his neck. "Good morning. Do you want to know what I dreamed about?" you ask. He nods his head. "About the cake. I forgot to taste it," you say, pulling away. You jut out your lip while watching his movements. "You can eat all of it if you want. Come on," he says and stands up. Holding his hand, you walk to the living room. You sit down on the floor and start to eat. "Whoa, so tasty." Jungkook carefully watches you with a smile.

 

He suddenly stands up and walks back to the bedroom. Soon coming back with a box in his hand. "I forgot to give you your present," he says. Sliding the little box on the table towards you as a signal to open it. You look at him confused. Opening the box, you see matching silver rings with little diamonds around them. You start laughing, "Are you going to propose?". He rolls his eyes. "Marrying you is on my list, but it's too soon," he adds. "So romantic," you say while getting shy. You take out one of the rings and try it on your middle finger. With joy you show him it. "Now showing me a middle finger? Tsk," he says. You take out the other one, which is a little bit bigger than yours. "Which finger?" you ask. "Index," he answers. You slide it on his finger. He touches your hand. "It looks so cute." You take out your phone and take a picture of your hands. "I love it," you say with a big smile. "Thank you, Jungkook," you add after a little pause. "But I want you to wear it forever until I buy you a new one," he says. You nod at him, "Of course. But you too!". "I promise," he says.

 

After eating more cake, you started getting ready for the celebration with your friends. All of you rented a party room with karaoke and music. Dancing to party hits and singing your lungs out. Of course, alcohol wasn't missing. Tae forced you to play a drinking game. Both of you are already tipsy. Jungkook watched you the whole day, drinking fewer. When you called it a day, everyone started getting home.

 

You knew that your family wasn't home, so Jungkook helps you to get into your room. "I need to do my routine," you say and walk to the bathroom. He helps you get your makeup off and brush your teeth. Sitting on the bed, you wait for him to give you your pajamas. He helps you change and tucks you into bed. Patiently waiting for you to fall asleep. "Happy birthday," he whispers before leaving.

 

–

 

1 week later...

 

If you could stop the time, you would do it right now. It was one day before Jungkook returns home, and you felt more than sad. You talked a lot about this topic, but none of you had the courage to ask to stay or come. But you decided to stay in contact and go to a college that is near to meet. Why is it feeling like it will never happen and everything will end in this city?

 

When you arrive at the restaurant for the last dinner, you fight not to cry. It's your fault to have such a relationship with him while you knew he would be gone soon. You try to not think about it tonight. Walking inside, you can already see everyone sitting at the table. "I'm so sorry for being late," you say. "Nah, all good. I also came seconds before," Tae says. You sit down next to Jungkook (it was the only free chair). He smiles at you and you return it. Everyone starts to order food and drinks. After some time the table is full and you start eating.

 

"I can't believe that the time flew by so fast," Jiho says in disbelief. "Time is so crazy," Jia adds. You silently eat your pasta. Jungkook is worried about you. He can imagine what is happening inside your head. But he knows you will try to play it off tonight. Finishing your food, you start to sip from your wine. Tae gives Jungkook a little side eye, and you catch that. Perfect, your plan wasn't going anywhere. Everyone knows about my feelings, you think. It feels uncomfortable that every one of them looked at you from time to time. Oh, they want you to cry. The waiter quickly took the empty plates. You start eating the fruits and think of their story. The silence is killing you.

 

Tae waves a bag in front of Jungkook's face while he is busy looking at you. He turns to the bag in surprise. "That is a little gift from us all. I know we will see each other again, but I want you to remember us in this memory," Tae says. "Thank you so much. I really appreciate it," Jungkook says. He pulls out a box and opens it to see the black watch. "It's so pretty," he says and starts wearing it right away. Why is it so warm in here? You can feel your eyes getting watery. And at this second you start scolding yourself. It was the last dinner together, and you don't want him to remember it like a funeral.

 

"I remember the first day when we were waiting for the exchange students. You were standing next to the teacher like a proud little kid," you suddenly say and start to laugh. "Oh my god, yes! They acted like it's a big mystery," Jia adds, also laughing at the memory. Jungkook is happy to see you laughing. "I was nervous, okay? New city and new people. It's not that easy," he says to defend himself. "Ah, come on. There were already rumors that you are hot," Tae says. "Everybody wanted to see you," Jiho says with a grin. You could see his ears getting red. "Are you shy?" you ask him with a smile. "It's a little embarrassing," he answers with a pout. You laugh at that and poke his cheek. "Come on, I would feel like an idol if I were you," you say. He sticks his tongue out. The night goes on like that. Everyone telling a funny story and you feel the bonding.

 

Getting out of the restaurant, you start walking to the nearest station. Because of the sea, it was a lot windier, but it felt good. "Let's leave a memory of us behind," Jia says and kneels down. All of you walk towards her. She takes out a black pen that is thick enough to write on the ground. It was a little place on the floor full of names. She started writing the names. You smile at the heart she drew next to them. "We need to meet here in ten years," she says. You think about it; in ten years, where are you? What happened in your life? Are you in touch with Jungkook?

 

Like always, you bid goodbye to your friends. Now only you and Jungkook are walking together. "I will miss you," he says suddenly. It cuts through the silence and your heart. "I will miss you too," you say. "I never expected you to return my words, but do you have feelings for me?" he asks with soft eyes. You turn to him. "Do you think I would be like that without having feelings for you?". He nods, but you know that this is not what he is asking for. "I know that you want to hear the magic three words," you say and pause for a moment. "I will not say it to you," you add. He looks confused and asks, "Why?". "I'm scared that it will be the end of us. So I'm giving you something to wait for us," you say. His head now hanging low. When he decides to look up, you see tears streaming down his face. It is the last straw for your own tears. "This will never be the end of us, right?" he asks with a sparkle of hope. You shrug your shoulders and step closer to him. Hugging him tightly, you kiss his neck. His hands find their place on your waist. The time should stop now.

–

 

In the morning, all of you stand in front of Jungkook's house. It was time to go for him. He started saying goodbye to everyone. Standing in front of you, he hands you an envelope. "This is for you," he adds. You take it and smile at him. "If this is the end, will you come to my first gallery event?" you ask him. He smiles at that and answers, "I will. And will you come to my first match?". "I will," you say while wiping off your tear. He kisses you on the lips a little longer than planned. Turning around, he waves goodbye to all of you. "I will miss you," Tae says with teary eyes. "I will miss you too. Thank you for everything," Jungkook says before getting into the taxi. You watch the car drive away. Without saying anything, you walk back home. You realize that you never walked back alone from his house. This was reason enough to start crying.

 

Walking into your room, you lock the door. You sit down on the floor and look at the window. Can he crawl in? You look at the envelope. Why does it feel so suffocating? Opening it, you start reading the letter he left:

 

Dear Yn,

It's my second time writing a letter. And I needed a lot of tries to finish this one. My first letter was a confession about my feelings towards you, but I managed to say I love you. I wished I could tell you all of this, but I know that I will break down. If you're reading this, it means I'm on my way home. First of all, I want to thank you for everything. For every moment that you shared with me. I wish I could stay a little longer or promise you that this is a beginning. Maybe we will never see each other again, but never forget that these moments will always remain special to me. I will hold my promises, so please do it too. Live for your dreams and never give up, okay? If this is our end, I wish you a lovely future. A true love, someone who would stay with you no matter what. I hope you're not mad at me for leaving. I just know that it's unrealistic to say, Fuck everything; I will stay, or I will take you with me. Why are we so young? Anyway, I will always be there for you no matter what. Please call me if you need to. Never forget that I love you. I will wait for the day that you will say it back.

 

Your (I will always be yours)

Jungkook

 

Note: Please listen to the CD. I wrote the song and sang it for you.

 

You can't control your tears. It hurts so much that you want to cry until there are no more tears left. "I love you so much," you whisper. He was the only one who wanted your happiness. Not your family; it was him who supported your dreams. Of course your friends were also there for you. But he was special. Your first with a lot. With shaking hands, you take out the CD and put it in your CD player. Jungkook's soft voice starts playing. The song familiar to your ears. He sang it at the beach on your birthday. You cried yourself to sleep. Hoping he would be in your dreams.

 

–

 

˚₊✩‧₊2024˚₊✩‧₊

 

You are standing with a little group of people talking about your last works. It was your first gallery event, and you feel excited about it. More and more people come to look at your work. At the end you're happy about every single piece. You could see Tae, Jia, and Jiho standing at the table. Excusing yourself, you walk towards them. "Hiii! Thanks for coming," you say. "Everything looks so good," Tae says. You smile at him, "Thank you." "At the end it was worth it," Jia says with a smile. "Yeah, you're right," you answer. After talking a bit, you walk away to look at your own pieces and answer some questions. You stand longer at one piece, which is your favorite. You gave it the title 'end of time.' A beach at night, with two people dancing and a bucket of roses on the sand. It reminds you of your 19th birthday.

 

"This looks familiar," a voice says. You turn to him in disbelief. "You came," you say with a low voice. Jungkook smiles at you. "I promised." You return the smile and play with your ring that he gifted you ten years ago.

 

–

 

┊͙Epilogue - 2014┊͙

 

 

 

Jungkook is sitting on the train wiping his tears. He decides to listen to some music for distraction. Opening his travel bag, he finds a small bag. He doesn't remember putting this in his travel bag. He takes out the frame and starts smiling. It is a drawing of him with his favorite jersey on. Your signature on the right side. His tears start to flow again. He grabs the piece of paper and starts reading:

 

I hope you like it! Sorry for sneaking this in, but I wanted to surprise you. I know you're sad about the whole situation, but stop being so. I know that this will not be the end. How ridiculous it would be for two people who love each other to break contact just because they're not living next door! Right? I love you, but despite it, wait to hear it from me, okay? Now stop sulking and enjoy your ride back. <3

 

Today he is smiling for the first time thanks to you. You make him feel sad and happy at once. He is happy that he had the chance to get to know you and love you. And also being loved by you. He played all of his luck on this, and he regrets not a bit.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thank you for reading! This is my first work, so I hope you enjoyed it. Also, English is not my first language, so excuse me for mistakes.

I love and hate open endings. Do you think they met at the gallery for the first time after ten years? Maybe I will write a part 2 about all the things that were left open. Depends on how many people are interested in reading this.

I would be happy if you could leave a review. Feel free to ask me questions or talk about anything (press the button in my bio)! Feel loved ♡

[bunni-v1]

Past and Future (Happy Birthday Lighter)

🍓Finished this shit at 4:30am, if y'all don't enjoy this I will kill myself. Anyway had fun writing this, it's more of me fucking around and finding out with Lighter's character, but I think it's fluffy and cute so... enjoy lol

TW: Mentions of Death; Suicidal ideation

Info: Lighter x GN!Reader; Angst to Fluff (?) Kinda?; hurt and comfort (i think??)

Word Count: 2k

December 27th. Two days after Christmas, five days before New Year's. Oddly placed on the calendar, awkwardly smooshed between two major holidays in New Eirdu. To most, it was insignificant, just another day. To Lighter it was something he dreaded each year. Between the holiday cheer and the buzz of excitement for the new year, it was nothing more than a looming cloud dampening his mood.

December 27th, Lighter Lorenz’s birthday, one of the worst days of his life.

He didn’t hate birthdays, they were nice when they were for other people. He had to admit he enjoyed getting gifts for others and seeing their eyes light up when they opened it, and the light atmosphere when everyone sang a horrendously off-key rendition of the birthday song was hard to hate. They were celebrations of the life of that person, a hurrah to cheer them into another long year until the next came around. He just hated his own.

Gifts and cake and warm fuzzy sweet nothings acted only as reminders that he was alive. He was alive, and everyone else who deserved to be wasn’t. Another marker of another year since he lost everything. He wanted to pretend it wasn’t there, maybe sleep until the 28th or run away for a while, but the girls wouldn’t let him.

They’d managed to weasel his birthday out of him about a year into his being here, and they made a point to celebrate it each year. Nothing big, they knew he wasn’t one for huge crowds outside of his fights, but still a party where they showered him with gifts and congratulations that he did not deserve. He didn’t have it in him to tell them to stop.

So, year after year he grinned and bared it with as much grace as someone as fucked up as he could. It wasn’t hard to be grateful for all they did for him, but it was always hard to smile and accept it like he deserved it. The nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him that he shouldn’t be allowed to be this happy, not when his stupidity cost the lives of good people – wonderful people, who he loved.

He usually only lasted until Burnice got out the nitro fuel, then he would quietly slip away from his own party to be alone. The quiet was easier on his mind than the distractions of colorful confetti and sweet cake made just to his taste. He liked to sit in the pain, to recede into that cocoon of hurt, as if to apologize to his friends by torturing himself. 

This year was no different, of course. Just as Burnice handed out the nitro fuel, he quietly slunk into the shadows, smiling to himself as the rest of the Sons of Calydon remained celebrating in his steed. He walked his way to his bike, sighing in the cool night air. The breeze on his skin was the only comfort from the hell in his mind.

He let the air out, hand tucking into his pocket to pull out the little thing of candy he carried around on him. The little lemon drops fall into his palm with ease, and he tosses them back with practiced ease. He rarely felt like smoking anymore, but his birthday was always a struggle. The heightened emotions made him want to take the easy route out, to fall back on his old ways and make stupid mistakes in hopes it would make him feel better. Instead of giving in, though, he sucked on those candies like a saving grace. It was the least he could do for his old friends.

As he stopped in front of his bike, he shoved the candies back into his pocket. Taking a second to himself in the quiet of the night. It was almost over, just a few more hours, and the pain would lessen back down to an ache again. A little longer and he wouldn’t have to worry about constant reminders of being alive, and he wouldn’t have to save face for everyone else’s sake.

“Lighter?” A quiet, soft, almost worried voice from behind him.

He glanced over his shoulder, eyes softening when he saw it was you. You’d been quiet about his birthday all month, not bothering him with any reminders. You knew, intrinsically, how much he hated it. You always knew everything about him, it was an infuriating quirk of yours that he would never want to go away. 

“Hey, dollface,” his voice just as quiet as he raised his arm for you to duck under, “got tired of the party?”

You press yourself into his side, enjoying the warmth of your personal heater, “I saw you leave and I wanted to make sure you weren’t doing anything stupid.”

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “Me stupid? Never. Just needed some air.”

“Is this getting some air just for you, or could you use some company?” You offer, giving him the reins.

He liked the alone time, he wanted to wallow in self-pity more than anything in the world. His head reminded him that he deserved to be alone on a night like this. Yet, your eyes flutter a little at him, and your lashes brush away those awful thoughts like nothing. 

“I’ve always got room for you,” he hums, giving you one last squeeze before helping you on the bike.

The drive is peaceful, the breeze cooling his hot skin like an apology from the world for all he’d been put through. He doesn’t think he deserves it, but he wouldn’t deny the feeling either. Your arms wrapped firmly around his middle, head pressed against his shoulder only calmed him further. It grounded him back in the present, reminding him that the past had long passed and that he still had things to live for.

The Sons of Calydon, who took him in and cared for him despite how distant he was at the start. The Proxies, who took special care to stop by earlier and give him a gift, congratulated him for being so strong and thanked him for his constant help when they needed it. The other former members of his mercenary group who, despite how much he wanted to deny it, held no ill will to him and wished him the best for the future.

And, of course, you curled against his back. You trusted him with your life, and he would easily lay his down for you – not that you’d let him if you had any say. You kept reminding him every single day that he was someone worth loving, that he was more than his past, and that he was the one who could define what his future looked like. It was hard not to picture it without you there, not with how attached he’d become to your little displays of love for him.

Displays like this, following him out of his party to make sure he wouldn’t do anything to hurt himself more than he was already hurting. He smiles warmly back at you as he eases his bike to a stop at his favorite quiet spot. You smile back pressing a kiss to his shoulder before moving to get off the bike.

You intertwined your fingers with his like it was second nature as you walked to the fence at the cliff's edge. From here you could see the endless desert, and the edge of the hollow, the moon peaking over it in an almost beautiful display. He helps you sit on the fence, placing a protective hand around your waist to keep you from falling forward.

Your hand presses his head into your shoulder, scratching at his scalp with such care it nearly makes his knees buckle. Another reminder of what he has that he couldn’t afford to lose. No one has known him the way you know him, no one has ever had the effect you have on him. It was almost enough to make all the horror of his past dissipate in his mind, but a small part of him still clung to it. Unwilling to allow himself to fully forget.

“You okay?” You ask, interrupting the quiet bubble that had formed around you.

He nods, “Thinking.”

“About…?” You urge with a raise of a brow, unbearably cute in his mind's eye.

He smiles, genuine for the first time that night, “About how much I love you.”

You shake your head at him, but you don’t argue with him about how he’s lying, or try and force him to tell you everything. You don’t need to. You always trust that he’ll tell you when he’s ready. It’s another thing about you that he couldn’t risk losing.

You let the quiet fall over you again, leaning into his chest with a content hum. He allows himself to indulge in your affections for now, preferring having you here in his arms than staring aimlessly at the skyline by himself. It was easier to swallow the ache in his throat with you to soften the harshness of the feeling, regardless of whether you knew you did it or not. 

He wonders, hopelessly, what his old friends would think of you. They would like you, he was sure of that. You had a personality that would let you fit right in with their eclectic group. The idea of you smiling side by side with them warms his chest, his heart aching as it fades away. A dream he’d never get to see.

He’s not aware that he’s crying, he’s not sure how long he has been crying, all he knows is that you turn to him and cradle his face in your hands. They wipe at his tears without needing to be asked, another quiet reassurance that you cared for him regardless of what was going on in his head.

Lighter sniffles pathetically as his eyes lock with your worried ones. You seem to know what's wrong without him needing to say it, which he likely wouldn’t be able to do if you weren’t able to deduce it on your own. You frown at him, bringing him down to kiss his forehead.

“I’m sorry it’s so hard,” You whisper, wrapping your arms around him.

He pulls you in tightly, desperate for the skinship you offered up, “It never gets easier. Everything is a reminder.”

“I know, that’s okay,” you press a kiss to the side of his face, “I don’t think you need to forget it, Lighter. I think you need to learn how to live with it.”

He closes his eyes, the hollow where they’re buried fading from sight as if looking at it would blind him now. He holds you even closer, letting your words sink in. Learning to live with it, sounded much easier than it probably was. Maybe you were right though, he’d done so much wallowing and running, maybe it was time he found a way to live with the pain.

“Mistake, failure, accident… it doesn’t matter what you call it,” you continue, pulling him back to look him in the eyes, “It’ll always hurt, but that hurt is a reminder of how human you are. You don’t want to lose that. Remember it, feel it, and they’ll never really leave you.”

You swallow, taking him in with those pretty eyes of yours. It’s not perfect, but it’s what he needed to hear tonight. He presses you into a kiss, soft and light and nervous. He was afraid you’d disappear if he was too rough. You melt into it, indulging him like he hoped you would. This was the only way he knew how to show you his appreciation, words would never be enough to display how deeply he cared for you.

When he pulled away you were breathless, face flushed from lack of oxygen, and indescribably beautiful. He smiled subconsciously at you, and you returned the look with all the love and admiration in the world.

“Happy Birthday Lighter,” You say soft as the wind still tussling your hair, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” He repeats back, and he feels the ache in his chest lessen every second he spends looking at you. You taught him a lot since he met you. A lot about himself, a lot about those around him, a lot about you. Most importantly, tonight you taught him that despite his past, he made a future for himself that he should be more determined to remember to protect.

[gothamhappiness]

Death can't keep us apart (Part I - f!reader x Bruce Wayne)

Hi everybody, it's been a hot minute since I posted for Bruce Wayne, so here you are. It's a two part very angsty story about Bruce Wayne and his children dealing with your death.

Hope you'll enjoy <3

And by the way, requests for any DC characters you'd like are open.

Warnings: not proof read, ANGST and more ANGST, violence, death (you're shoot in the head), funeral, sadness, grief, no one is dealing well with your death

Everything was going to be alright. 

You were certain Batman was about to arrive. He was coming to save you. You had no doubt about it, even though Riddler had started a timer and at the end of it, a machine would shoot you in the head. But it was going to be okay. You were Batman’s wife, after all. And you had a charity gala to attend that very same night. You were going to be a little bit late, but it would be a fun story to tell about, right? 

You couldn’t imagine how stressed Bruce had to be right now, but everything was going to be alright. 

You had been kidnapped by Riddler, as Bruce Wayne’s wife. He wanted to toy with the billionaire and then the game kept getting more and more violent. He played with Batman to show him he was smarter than him. You were certain your husband was the best though; Riddler couldn’t win. 

He never did before.

And yet tears started to cascade down your face as time was going by. Riddler was taunting you, trying to make you beg him or say that Bruce Wayne was useless to save you. Then he added that you were probably not important enough for Batman to look after you. You replied nothing, your eyes glued to the timer in front of you.

5 minutes left.

4 minutes left.

3 minutes left.

2 minutes left.

1 minute left.

It was pretty obvious you were going to die now, and you hated that you couldn’t tell the man you loved that it was okay. Gotham was a dangerous city, and it wasn’t his fault or his children’s fault if you were going to die that night. You wished you would have told them how much you loved them one last time though. You hoped they were going to be alright without you. But you wanted to believe they were strong and powerful people. They would find a way to survive your loss.

You took one last deep breath before darkness engulfed you. Painlessly.

Batman arrived then. 

Too late.

He had promised himself it would never happen again, not after Jason. He couldn’t endure another time the loss of someone he loved because he didn’t arrive in time, because he hadn’t been good enough, because he failed them. 

He needed to be better and stronger to protect his people. He worked so hard for it. Everyday of his life, his main goal was to become the best.

He thought it was what he did. He thought he was better. He thought he was safe from such a disaster.

And yet, here he was, cradling your dead body in his arms, screaming and crying, begging you to come back to life. 

He had untied you from the chair and had fallen on the ground with you. His protective suit prevented him from feeling how cold your body was slowly getting, but the hole in your head was making things pretty clear and hopeless. His heart was shattered in small pieces, his sanity was so easily slipping away. He was losing himself in your death. Nothing else mattered around him. He couldn’t even hear Riddler asking him why he cared so much about you, about your life, about your dead body. He was clearly surprised to witness such pain from the Dark Knight. Your death hadn’t been entirely planned but it wasn’t his fault if Batman hadn’t been quick enough, was it?

You were just a casualty, nothing more.

Riddler was starting to connect the dots about Batman’s identity and he was so taken aback that he didn’t realise that Nightwing and Batwoman found him. He was soon enough on the ground, beaten up and tied up. Batwoman took him back to Arkham - she couldn’t stand to stay around - as the rest of the family was slowly gathering around you, or what remains of you. They all started to cry and to collapse on the ground, by Batman’s side. They couldn’t lose their sunshine, they couldn’t lose their mother, they couldn’t lose the person they loved the most. They couldn’t believe that something like that happened. They had worked so hard to find you, protect you.

They failed you.

All of them.

It had to be a nightmare, it couldn’t be reality. 

No, no. It couldn’t be you.

They could have stayed like that all night, Bruce tightly hugging you against his chest to prevent the warmth from fully leaving your body. It was then they heard Alfred gently calling out their names. No matter how heartbroken and desperate Alfred was himself, tears silently dripping down his face, he gently reminded them all that they couldn’t stay here. The GCPD was about to arrive and they needed to leave before anyone else could understand what was going on. He also had to remind Batman he needed to leave your body behind. Bruce thought he was going to throw up when he had to let go of you.

“Alfred, I can’t…” Bruce’s broken voice said

“I’m afraid you have to… The GCPD will give her back later on. And we’ll take care of her and her funeral then” Alfred tried to stay logical

The mention of your funeral broke Batman’s legs for a few instants and Dick had to help him stand up. None of them could bear to look at you, but at the same time it felt so wrong to leave you alone in there.

Again.

They didn’t even remember how they managed to come back to the Batcave in one piece. Bruce didn’t know how he managed to take a shower and dress up again, as a civilian this time. He didn’t know how he got enough strength to go to the GCPD and recognise your body. The words “Yes, this is my wife” were the last coherent things he said before starting to silently cry again. Jim Gordon had to help the man get back in his car and asked Alfred to look after his master.

Jim remembered pretty well how Bruce was when his parents died, and he didn’t want to say it, but Bruce looked even worse this time.

The whole family was losing it.

Dick stopped making jokes, laughing, or smiling. He lost another mother. He lost the remains of his innocence.

Barbara was angry. Too angry to be around anyone, to talk to anyone. She blamed herself and wondered if she deserved to still be Oracle.

Jason hid away for a while, not bearing to see anyone either. He tried not to see how alike both your death look like, how he failed you like Batman failed him.

Tim was working on anything he could until losing consciousness from the lack of sleep and food. He needed to forget about this reality and help people.

Stephanie organised your funeral with the help of Alfred. She wanted everything to be perfect for you; you always tried to make things perfect for your family.

Cassandra kept an eye on her whole family, because she couldn’t stand the idea of losing anyone else. And it was obvious they were all falling apart.

Duke started to watch the movies and to read the books you enjoyed and advised him to have a look at. He wished he would have been able to talk about them with you.

Damian was utterly silent. You weren’t his mother, but you always treated him with tenderness and he knew how important you were for everyone. For him.

Alfred thought it was his duty to stay strong, no matter how much he cried at night. He lost his daughter, but he still had a family to care for.

Kate grew half insane with the security of the manor and made sure no one could come and leave the place without her knowing about it.

Lucius and Luke did their best to deal with Wayne Enterprises, so the family could grieve you in “peace”. But they missed you too, dearly.

Everyone felt the burden of the cruel silence your absence created.

Bruce was an even bigger mess. He couldn’t sleep, eat, or do his work anymore. He didn’t care about WE, about the Justice League. What was the point when he had lost his wife? He should have been better.

He went through the whole case over and over again, seeing all the mistakes he made. The mistakes that cost your life. His sanity. His family’s sanity. 

Without Alfred and Cass, he wouldn’t have put on his Batman suit anymore. But they reminded him you wouldn’t have wanted that. So he continued to chase crimes.

The crime rate brutally dropped because of how ruthless and merciless Batman seemed to be. Goons started to be afraid of Batman because the vigilante was suddenly more than happy to break every bone in their body. Bruce knew that violence wouldn’t bring you back, and that it wasn’t helping with his grieving or his sanity, but he couldn’t help it.

The day of your funeral, Bruce wished he could have been buried by your side.

You definitely left this Earth with his heart, because the hole inside his chest seemed to grow a little more every second passing by. He was feeling empty and yet full of the worst pain he ever witnessed.

Empty because you weren’t there anymore.

Pain because your absence was unbearable.

He didn’t have the strength to be there for his children. Your death was tearing everyone apart, even if they were gathered around your grave, even if they were all feeling the same pain. Actually the pain was too deep to allow them to soothe their agony in the presence of the other’s. 

No one could talk, no one could tell how amazing you had been, how much you had been loved. They couldn’t; the sorrow had taken away their voices.

They hated themselves for not having been there in time to save you; they felt guilty, which was only adding to the suffering of your loss. They hated themselves even more for not being able to cherish you one last time.

They felt like there was no coming back.

There was no way to ever get better.

Happiness was over.

If only they had enjoyed it more. If only they had planned more activities to do with you. If only, if only…

Jason killed Riddler that night. He just couldn’t help it. It felt right to get rid of the man who murdered you. It was the justice you deserved, even if you probably wouldn’t have wanted that. You weren’t here to care about it anymore anyway. The GCPD failed to catch Red Hood. And Batman, for the first time, didn’t come when Jim turned on the bat signal. Jason thought Bruce would at least lecture him about it, but Bruce didn’t say anything. 

It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. 

Actually, it did feel right for Riddler to be dead too. 

Bruce was watching pictures of you on his phone, tears dropping on his screen.

He heard Damian coming in the living room but he didn’t acknowledge him until Damian whispered “My grandfather might be able to bring her back”.

Hope blossomed again.

Everything was going to be alright.

--

Part 2

--

Taglist for all my work <3

@blublock404

@wind-canoe

@silverklaus

@couldeatthatgirlforlunch

@tatsuri-zomushiki

@navs-bhat

Taglist for Bruce Wayne <3

@alishii

[pillowspace]

Thoughts on isat's one hat ending? It doesn't get talked about enough but it has a lot of angst potential for post-canon

I find it so tragic that after Siffrin's outbursts against everyone, he gets the chance to apologize and make amends for all of it... except for with one person. Siffrin will always know that Loop did their best to help him even after he went into the House in Act 5, but the last thing he will have ever personally interacted with Loop was him telling them "curse you, Loop," so perhaps knowing that Loop still tried to help him after he said all that is just worse.

It's hard to think about just how little comfort Loop had when they likely faded away. They'd seen the Party, sure, but nobody recognized them. Siffrin wasn't there to say nice things- and why would Loop have expected them to? The interaction with the Party must have left them very stressed, the closest thing they even had to a friend(? conversation partner?) lashed out at them then beat the loops so what's even the point in Helpful Loop anymore, Siffrin couldn't convince them of the fact that he wouldn't have been able to escape if it weren't for Loop so Loop might not realize just how integral they were, etc. etc. etc...

But what do you do when you can feel yourself fading away? Do you just try to... accept all the injustices the Universe has placed upon you? Try to find some sort of peace but in the wrong direction? Do you settle into the idea that you were simply born to fail because you don't want to die angry?

I also think that, should a reunion occur, that in itself would be fascinating. Does Loop seek out Siffrin, not because they think it's a good idea, but just because they need to know what he has now? Does Siffrin take their time to give Loop the apology and gratitude that they deserve, grateful that he even can? Does Loop still want to replace Siffrin (here's a fic about that)? Does Loop tell Siffrin who they are? If they don't, does the Party figure it out before Siffrin even does? What if Loop had their pre-star human head, what then? Do they still seek out Siffrin even then? Would Siffrin even recognize who they are? It'd be their first time seeing Siffrin after the Party didn't recognize them, why not throw Siffrin into the mix now

I think one hat is fascinating <3

[holylulusworld]

Gap Filler (2)

Summary: Lack of communication leads to fallout.

Pairing: Walter Marshall x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, Walter being a douche, break-up, mentions of break-ups, amends, angry reader, unplanned pregnancy

A/N: A short drabble to the miniseries.

Gap Filler (1)

Walter feels like he’s losing his mind. He’s pacing the room, driving the lab assistant crazy. She huffs and shakes her head. Not only does Walter ask for an unauthorized analysis, but he also gets on her nerves.

“Sir, the results won’t come faster if you keep on walking holes into the ground. It will take as long as it takes.”

“I’ll be back in half an hour and need the results by then,” he huffs and turns to leave. “I know you’re not happy that I called in a favor. This is an important, life-changing event. So please, hurry up. I need to be sure if I bring something for the baby too.”

She furrows her brows but says nothing. Three years ago, Walter did her a favor without asking questions. She will do the same for him to pay him back and to be even with the grumpy detective.

“Half an hour,” she nods. “Got it.”

“…and?” Walter expectantly looks at the lab assistant. He never felt so much pressure on him before. Not even while on the hunt for a killer. “Please tell me you have the result for me.”

“Here.” She hands Walter the results. “Now we are even. Never ask me to do something like this ever again. I could lose my job.”

“If you forget about the test and the results, we are even.” He looks at the results. His heart jumped for a second before he remembered what he said to you only a few days ago.

“Detective.” She nods and turns back toward her equipment. “You shouldn’t waste more time. She’s on the way to start a new life far away from you.”

Walter huffs. The last thing he needs is someone telling him that he fucked up big time. He already knows there’s no way you’ll forgive him.

“Can I help you, sir?” The clerk at the shop asks. She’s looking at Walter standing in front of a shelf. He looks left and right, unsure what to buy. “Sir?”

“Hmm…” Walter dips his head to look at her. He has his arms crossed over his chest as he tries to decide on a gift hamper. “I need a gift for…” He sniffs and looks back at the shelf. “…my pregnant girlfriend. It should say, I’m sorry and happy to become a dad at the same time.”

She frowns. “You want to apologize with a baby gift hamper? Sir, I don’t know your girlfriend well, but that’s not the best gift for an angry pregnant woman.”

“How do you wanna know?” He cocks his head to watch her look at the shelf herself. “I want her to know that I’m happy about the baby and that I’m sorry for saying all those stupid things.”

She huffs now. “You are always sorry, aren’t you? Men are all the same. Do you believe a half-hearted apology and a random gift will make things up to her? How dare you come back to her to do it all over again!”

“Whoa, I didn’t ask for your opinion or help. If you’d excuse me now,” Walter angrily says. He glares at the clerk, pissed at her cocky attitude. “Whatever crawled up your ass is not my fault or problem. Nice customer service.”

He’s too angry to focus on buying anything at the shop. Walter storms out of the shop, squaring his jaw. The young woman at the shop wasn’t wrong. Walter hurt you beyond repair, and this can’t be fixed with a fucking gift hamper.

“I’ll take two, no, three of these.” Walter points at the flower baskets. “No, this is stupid. Give me your prettiest bouquet of peonies. She loves them.”

He looks around the flower shop, frowning deeply. There’s a beautiful orchid and a large cactus next to it. Walter shakes his head and laughs. “An impossible match,” he murmurs before pointing at the plants. “I changed my mind. I’ll take these two.”

Packing up your things to move out of your home feels wrong. You learned to love your apartment and turned it into a cozy home for you.

Not so long ago, you had hoped Walter would move in with you one day.

All your hope got shattered the day he told you Rachel is back and that he wants to try again. Your heart broke, and you mourned the life you could’ve had if only Walter felt the same.

Now you’re going to raise the life growing inside of you alone, far away from the friends you made and your beloved home.

“Well, this can’t be helped,” you murmur while rubbing your belly. There’s no swelling yet, but soon enough people will know you’re expecting. “We are going to do this all on our own, bean. Don’t worry. Your mommy is going to give you all the love you’ll need.”

For a few moments, you allow yourself to be sad about the breakup. You cry, you scream, and then you get up to pack up a few more things.

Walter is a nervous wreck. He paces in front of your apartment, the cactus, orchid, and a baby gift hamper in his arms.

“Fuck,” he curses. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Walter curses himself for being a fool. If only he knew that you never wanted to leave him for a better position.

How could he be so blind? How could he not see that your feelings for him were true?

His instinct should’ve told him you are not going to leave him. Instead, he ignored his instinct and listened to the nagging voice in the back of his mind.

“FUCK!” One last time, he takes a deep breath before knocking at your door, using his right elbow.

“Hello, what can I—” You stiffen when your eyes meet Walter’s blue eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I should ask you the same!” He huffs. “I told you so often to not open the door before checking who’s on the other side.”

You huff. “This is how you want to start this conversation? Really, Walter?” He smirks when you put your hands on your hips to glare at him. “What brings you here? Do you want to make sure I’m leaving? Maybe Rachel needs a new apartment, and you want mine.”

“Baby,” he hesitantly says. “Rachel is not, and never will be, a part of my life. She wanted to return for a few months, but we didn’t stay in touch. I lied, believing you want to leave me too. I was hurt and believed hurting you would make me feel better.”

You narrow your eyes. “For a smart detective, you are dumb as a brick.” Slamming the door in his face, you huff. “FUCK YOU!”

“Baby? Uh—will you at least let me explain things? Please?” He knocks at your door again, using his foot this time. “Y/N, please open the door. The cactus is poking my chest, and the orchid looks like it's scared of me.”

You’re tempted to open the door, almost giving in as he keeps talking. “No.”

“Please, at least take the plants. You see, the pretty one is you, soft and sweet. The large, ugly beast is me, rough and grumpy. Even though they are so different, he loves the pretty orchid.” He sighs deeply. “And he hopes that the pretty flower loves him too…”

Walter listens closely. He sucks in a breath when you curse behind the door.

“Baby, I know about the baby,” Walter continues. “I know what I did and said was unforgivable, but please talk to me…”

[ohmystaxk]

For there is beauty | Chapter One: What is science, if not risks?

[MASTERLIST] | [NEXT]

Tags/Warnings: Time Travel, Jayce is a Sweetheart, Jayce and Reader are childhood friends, Idiots in Love, Reader has a backstory, Undercity!Reader, Cait is Jayce and Reader's little sister, Protective Jayce, Jayce's Love Language is Physical Touch, Mutual Pining, Viktor-centric, Sassy Viktor, Viktor Needs a Hug, Viktor has a crush on Reader, Accidental Fake Dating, Miscommunication, Slow Burn Jayce/Reader/Viktor, Eventual Jayce/Viktor, Reader is greedy, Smut, Slow Romance, Romance, Canon Related, Possible AU timelines, Fluff, Angst, Reader has parents, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Not Beta Read

Summary: Life was simple. You woke up each morning, and walked the streets of Piltover with Jayce by your side, joking and laughing while Cait could only roll her eyes at the two of you. You worked hard on your research and studied double as much at the Academy to prove your worth. Each day was the same, but that was until you crossed paths with Professor Heimerdinger's assistant at the library one day. His name escaped you, but that never stopped your curiosity for the man. Viktor, he said his name was. And you left the library with that, not expecting to cross paths with him again.

It was then the nightmares began, dreadful glimpses of a world you wish to never exist. A world empty of life, happiness, and freedom. But they were only that, nightmares, nothing more. So why did they feel so vivid? So real, and tangible?

N/A: hello everyone! just like everyone else, I folded and started writing for arcane. I have only watched the show, so my knowledge is ONLY from it! english is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes you might encounter along the way.

I currently have 3 chapters written for the fic and I cannot wait to show them to all of you!

I have created playlists that I encourage you to listen to while reading (spotify, yt music and apple music) this fic!

spotify yt music apple music

I will also be uploading this to my ao3: @ohmystaxk

Track List: 1.Breakfast with Lou 2.Bewitched 3.Cinnamon Girl

The warmth was the first thing you noticed, something almost comforting. You let out a breath you were not aware you were holding in the first place. The blood in your body rose to your head as something touched your forehead; that same warmth now replaced your blood, running down every vein, clinging to each cell. It was becoming one with you.

“We were always one .” A voice, distorted and unfamiliar, spoke.

Your heart is empty of blood, only pumping warmth. Your chest is heavy, your lungs chasing for that last bit of air.

“Do not be afraid.” The touch on your forehead shifted to your cheek. “I am right here with you.”

You wanted to open your eyes, look around, and find where that voice originated. You tried to turn your head around, but the touch on your cheek moved to your chin, holding your face in place. Even when the touch was demanding, you did not feel threatened.

“Soon, you will see. ” The voice was different, almost that of a woman. “Truly see what has been hiding underneath. It is time for you to go back. ”

Your body suddenly regained its bearings, jolting you awake as you gasped. The morning light blinded you, forcing your eyes to close once again. Your heart beating worryingly fast, your head felt heavy, and your body tingled. The sound of faraway voices made your head snap towards it, your brows furrowed as footsteps crept closer your way. Then a knock came from the door of your bedroom.

“Are you awake? Did you stay up too late again?”

When you recognized the voice, you pushed the comforter away and stood up from your bed. Your head spun, and your vision went blurry. Suddenly, your knees hit the floor.

Your door flew open.

“Hey, what's wrong?” A pair of hands touched you, one on your back and the other on your forearm. “What happened?”

You grabbed your head with one hand, frowning from the buzzing feeling.

“I don’t think I’m feeling too good right now, Jayce.” Looking up to meet his eyes, you only saw worry in them.

“Yeah, no kidding.” He scoffed awkwardly.

He moved his hand on your arm towards your elbow while the other took your waist.

With some effort, he helped you stand up, walking you back to your bed.

“How did you get in?” You asked once you sat back down at the edge of the mattress.

“I remembered where you keep the spare key.” Jayce stood in front of you, his eyes looking around your room.

“Is everything alright?” You heard a voice coming from somewhere in your apartment.

“Did you bring Cait here with you?” You asked the man with a whisper, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Yeah, she wanted to come over to the workshop again.” Jayce crouched, amber eyes taking in your features. “Cait!” He called out to the girl.

“Yes?” She answered quickly, a bit of a tremble in her voice.

“Could you bring me a glass of water, please?”

“Oh...Yes!” You then hear the girl walk to what you knew to be your kitchen.

“Hey.” You looked back at Jayce, not realizing you had started to space out. “What are you feeling? Do you need us to take you to a clinic?”

“No-. Just…I’m just a bit dizzy, that’s all.”

Caitlyn entered the room, glass of water in hand as she eyed you. It was a similar look to the one Jayce was giving you.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce looked over his shoulder, and the girl walked over and handed him the glass.

“Are you alright?” She hugged herself, head tilted to the side.

“I will be, just a minute.” You sighed, bringing your hand to your temple.

“Here.” Jayce gently handed you the glass, keeping his hand on yours. “I still think we should take you to a clinic.”

“You look pale.” Cait pointed out, leaning against the small dresser in your room.

“I’ll be fine, I promise.” You rolled your eyes, scoffing as you finally took the glass and drank from it.

“Did you feel like this last night?” Jayce held the glass for you once you finished the water.

“No. I felt fine. I think…” Your mind wonders about your strange dream, and how it made you feel.

“What is it?” Jayce leaned closer, tilting his head to catch your gaze.

“I had a strange dream. It startled me. I felt just like I did now; I was dreading something.”

“What was it?” Cait asked, curiosity getting the best of her.

“I don’t know, my eyes were closed the entire time. I just heard a voice.”

Jayce frowned. He placed a gentle hand on your knee before he stood up.

“I think I will take Cait back to her house. I’ll come back with something for you to eat-.”

“No, I’m already feeling better, Jayce.” You stood up, your legs giving you the support you needed.

“You don’t have to exert yourself.”

“I’m not.” You looked at the man with a smile. “Besides, Cait and I know you will barely get things done if I’m not there to help.”

You gave his arm a quick squeeze. Then you walked towards your closet, opened it, and heard Jayce take a few steps.

“We can work on it once you feel better.”

“I feel better, Jayce.” You looked over your shoulder. The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m going to change and then we can head out.”

“Just-...Yell if you need anything.” He stepped back, then turned around, heading to the door. “Come on, Cait.”

The two of them walked out of the room, closing the door behind them.

You let out a heavy sigh, your hands going to your face. It was true that you were not feeling great, but you were feeling better than before. You stayed up late the night before, reviewing notes from Jayce's project, while also studying for your research paper. You had also forgotten to eat anything, perhaps that had affected you now.

Walking through the streets of Piltover alongside Jayce and Cait had become a bit of a routine for the three of you. Since Counsellor Kiramman had acquired the lab for Jayce, Caitlyn had started tagging along. Especially after she heard about your and Jayce’s projects. Cait was curious, always wanting to help the two of you with whatever was necessary. 

She seemed to enjoy watching you correct Jayce’s work, or talk to her about engineering and the theories for your research paper. It was funny really; two people in their twenties hanging out with a teenager, who they saw like a little sister. The truth was, Caitlyn, reminded you a lot of Jayce all those years ago. 

You opened the front door of your home, sunset had started to set by the time you arrived. You took off your bag and let it fall by the entrance, voices came from the kitchen, and you looked up to find your mother seated on the dining table, a woman across from her as the two laughed. Your mother’s gaze fell on you, a bright smile on her face as she widened her eyes.

“There you are! How was school, baby?” She stood up and gently placed the mug she had in hand on the table. “Come here, I want you to meet someone.”

You slowly approached the table, the other woman turned on her chair, and she smiled once she saw you. Her hair was a dark brown, almost black. Her eyes were light brown and she had a pretty mole next to her right eye.

“Oh, isn’t she adorable?” The woman said. Your mother met you halfway, placing a hand on your shoulder and the other between your shoulder blades, nudging you towards her.

“Say hi, baby.” Your mother brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

“Hello,” Your voice was small, just above a whisper. You played with your hands.

“Hello, your mother was just telling me about you. I’m Ximena, a friend.” She extended her hand to you, and with a trembling hand, you took it. “Oh, you are a bit shy. Please don’t be.”

“Ximena is a friend of your dad and me. She has a son your age, and we wanted the two of you to get to know each other.” Your mother explained with a smile. “Now, take a sit while I serve you dinner, you must be hungry by now.”

Your mother gently directed you towards the table, you took a seat and watched Ximena as she adjusted herself on her chair.

“Oh yes, my boy should be here any minute now. I believe the two of you go to the same school, but he is a year older than you, sweetheart.” At that you frowned, wondering who her son was out of all the boys in your school.

“Okay.” That was the only thing you could reply with. Under the table you kept playing with your hands, your nails picking at the skin.

“You didn’t tell me how school was? Did the professor grade the painting yet?” Your mother asked, your nails dug deeper into the flesh.

“I-it was okay. She liked it.”

“I’m glad she did! I told Ximena how hard you have been working on the art project.” You bit your lip, your vision blurring as you picked even more at the skin.

A knock came from the front door. Ximena stood up from her chair, fixing her skirt as she walked to the door.

“Must be my boy.” She said, you did not look up, your eyes focused on the markings on the table.

The door opened, and you tuned out the voices, your lips quivering as your vision became blurry. Your heart was heavy on your chest, and the next thing you knew, you heard your mother call your name.

In front of you was a boy, and his honey eyes were so bright and shiny. He smiled at you, a tooth gap on his front teeth. But his smile failed him, his brows furrowing as he looked at you.

“Sweetheart,” It was Ximena who spoke. “Are you alright?” You could hear the worry in her voice as you quickly stood up and ran to your room.

You shut the door behind you, falling face-first on the mattress as you started sobbing into the pillow. The door opened and you felt the weight shift the mattress someone sat down next to you.“What’s wrong?” Your mother brushed your hair away from your face. “Did something happen?”

You shook your head, sobbing even more. Your mother ran her fingers through your hair, traveling down to soothe your back.

“You know you can tell me anything, baby.”

“T-they they ri-pped the paint-ing.” You struggled in between sobs. Your mother immediately pulled you closer to her, hugging you tightly.

“Who did?” Your mother spoke at the top of your head.

“T-hey said I w-was an Under-city r-rat.” You cried even harder into the crook of your mother’s neck.

After your mother calmed you down and assured you the kids were wrong, she left you in your room to get you food. You lay in your bed, curled up as you traced the patterns on the wall.

“Did you paint those?” You quickly sat up on your bed, your head snapping to the door, standing there was Ximena’s son. His gaze was on one of the paintings on one of the walls of your room.

“M-my mom and me.” You replied, and your voice came out hoarse and small.

“And this one?” He pointed at another one, you now were by the edge of the bed, your legs barely touching the floor.

“Me.” When you said that, he turned to face you. Your face was puffed up, your eyes red from crying.

“I like it.” He said, and the boy walked up to you, he sat down on the bed next to you. “My name is Jayce.” You told him your name, and he smiled at you. “You have a pretty name.”

It was later you two shared your curiosity for science and inventions. You two finally found things in common; Magic, science, art, and literature. It was those moments that had led to your friendship of twelve years .

“Like I said, I was reviewing my notes.” You rolled your eyes. Jayce walked right beside you, your shoulders brushing.

“And are you sure to went straight to bed?” He leaned down a bit, wanting to see your face as you held the strap of your bag tightly. “Did you eat anything?”

“Well-.”

“I knew it!” He snapped his fingers, pointing forward as you tilted your head away with a sigh, closing your eyes. “I told you we could stop by and get some dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry…” You looked at him.

Jayce’s hair was neatly styled. You could smell his aftershave as he leaned over, his arm reaching your right shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Aren’t you the one always reminding me to eat? Especially when I don’t want to.”

“You do always remind him.” Cait shimmed in. When you look to your right to narrow your eyes at her, she simply shrugs.

“Thanks, Cait.” Jayce now wrapped his arm over your shoulders, pulling you even closer. “Which is why we are grabbing a bite before we head to the studio.” You threw your head back.

“I need to stop by the library first.” You glanced up at Jayce, his amber eyes narrowing. “Just remembered that I need to get some books.”

“Right now?” He asked with a pointed look.

“Might as well, the library is right across.” You pointed with your eyes at the massive building across the street.

Jayce slowed down his steps, making you slow down as well.

“Your research paper?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You gave his chest a quick pat and pulled back a bit, his arm sliding over your back before he too pulled away. “I still need to finish the draft before I can start working on the actual paper.”

You adjusted the weight of your bag.

“Think you feel better to head on your own?” Jayce scratched his head, eying you as you laughed.

“Don’t worry, if I need a big strong man to help me, I’m sure I can find one there.” You slapped his arm with the back of your hand. Jayce rolled his eyes, scoffing at the comment. “I won’t stay long, how about you start heading over and grab me something to eat? I’ll see you two in a few.”

“You want the same thing from yesterday?” He asked as you were already starting to walk away.

“Sure, sounds good. Cait, keep an eye on this one, don’t let him wander off with strange women.” You smiled at the girl, and Cait simply laughed with a nod.

“I-. I don’t wander off!” He called out once you started crossing the street.

“Didn’t hear you deny the last part though!” You laughed as you ran, holding your bag tightly.

The Piltover library was massive, with three floors and an impressive collection, even containing two extra lower levels for more restricted books and archives. You immediately went to the second floor, walking past tall bookshelves. The sunlight was casting different colors due to the stained glass from the windows. Then you took a turn, finding the section you were looking for. You stopped when you saw that someone was standing at the other end. He had brown hair and a strong nose, his focus deep in a book. The man leaned on a cane, the light filtering from the stained glass casting a yellow glow on him.

With a thud, he closed the book he was reading. He placed the book back on the shelf, his eyes looking at the spines. You recognized him as Professor Heimerdinger's apprentice; his name escaped you. 

You fixed your bag, and you focused on the book titles closest to you, trying to see if you could find what you were looking for. But with every two books you looked at, your eyes could not help but glance towards him.

You had always seen him around the academy, always on his own. Whenever you saw him, he would be reading a book or writing something down in his notebook. You had asked about him out of curiosity a good number of times to other students, they also seemed to barely know anything about him. Then there were a couple that mentioned how his mysteriousness was rather, attractive. But the only thing that everyone seemed to agree on was that he was… gifted . He had to be if he had caught the attention of the Dean.

Without knowing, you were already standing shoulder to shoulder next to him. You accidentally bumped into him.

“I’m sorry!” You immediately uttered, your eyebrows shooting up and your face burning hot. “I was distracted.”

He already had another book in hand. He looked your way, seemingly also surprised. His eyes scanned you, falling on your eyes before he spoke.

“No need to worry.” He said with an accent you didn’t quite recognize, it sounded nice. “I didn’t see you.” It suits him.

The man took a step to the side to create some distance between the two of you.

“Sorry.” You said more quietly, your eyes glancing back and forth between him and the shelves.

As you tried your best to compose yourself, your eyes caught sight of a book you were looking for. You looked at him, making sure you were not in his way, and reached for it.

“Excuse me, going to grab this.” You called out. 

You needed to finish the research paper, three months had gone by so fast that trying to meet the deadline felt almost impossible.

Once you picked it up, you noticed a few more and quickly grabbed them. You stepped back with your stack of books and turned around, heading back to the main hall. 

That was until you heard his cane and feet shift.

“Those are about Astrophysics.” The man suddenly spoke again. Your eyes widened as you stood in place. “Is it curiosity or for research?”

 You looked over your shoulder, your eyes meeting with his bright amber eyes; they were similar to Jayce’s, but perhaps they were a bit lighter.

“B-both.” You were caught off guard. After many years and countless times of seeing him around the Academy; this was the first time you had interacted with him.

“Um.” He gave a quick nod. His eyes shifted towards your books before meeting your gaze once more.

“It’s research. For my final.” You fixed your posture, your body turning to face his.

“I have…seen you before, in the academy.” He stated, shifting his weight on the cane more comfortably.

“Yes, I’m part of the Engineering department.” You put the weight of the books on your hip. “Or I was. I was part of Professor Heimendinger’s lecture last summer.”

“Oh.” He’s eyebrows rose a fraction. “I remember now. You sat close to the middle row.”

You remembered when you and Jayce had arrived at the lecture for the first time. How excited he was, talking your ear off as the two of you sat down. You remembered how dark the auditorium always was, except for the chalkboard and the podium the Professor stood. It became a habit to always sit in the same spot, not out of preference, but it just did. Sometimes whenever someone decided to take those two spots, you and Jayce would jokingly say things like ‘ The audacity. ’ or ‘ We should start carving our names on the desk at this point. ’

It was then you remember seeing the assistant in the corner of the room many times, almost like he was hiding in the shadows. You would meet his eyes on occasion, even in the dark you were always impressed by how bright his eyes seemed to shine.

“Yes.” You let out a chuckle. Your eyebrows furrowing. How did he remember that? “And you are the Professor’s assistant.”

His eyes fell on your hips, taking note of your posture. “I am, yes.”

“How did you get the offer?” You fixed the hold on the books. “That’s a very big opportunity.”

“My charms I believe.” He shrugged. You smiled as you let out a laugh.

“Oh yes, those are very important.” You took a step forward. “Every inventor needs them.”

“Not everyone has those.” He grinned as he placed back the book he was holding on the shelf.

“Do I?” You played along.

He stopped his hand, his fingertips brushing the spine of the book. He raised an eyebrow, amber eyes staring at yours with curiosity.

“Um.” He eyed you. “What is it that intrigues you the most? Astrophysics or Engineering?”

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. What a charmer , you thought.

“Why not both?” You tilted your head to the side with a grin.

He nodded with a smile. You noticed the moles adorning his cheek and upper lip.

“Well, what is it about Astrophysics that made you want to pursue it?”

“The many unanswered questions space holds from us; about gravity, the sun, and the moon. But I didn’t get into Astrophysics for that only. I am searching for something more, something out there in the universe.”

“Which is?” He took a step forward.

“Magic.” You answered breathlessly. “Time, space, the possibility of actions and consequences. What other possibilities those could have led to.”

“Time travel.” He answered, his eyes widen a fraction.

“Multiple timelines possibly coexisting within the same plane. I believe the Arcane is capable of that.”

He looked at you, his eyes shifting between yours and the books still resting on your hip.

“The Arcane is wild magic…not something science could master.”

“You’re right, but I believe science could help us understand magic.” You started talking with your hand. “I’m not thinking of bending the Arcane to science’s will. But I wish to find an understanding.”

The two of you stood there in silence. The noise of people speaking and walking around soothing your nerves. It had been your dream that had connected you with Jayce, the mutual understanding of what magic could do and the wonders it held.

“Those types of ideas could get you expelled from the Academy.” If he had spoken those words with a serious tone, it would have scared you. Instead, he still held curiosity in his eyes. “But what is science, if not risks?”

You let out a breath you did not know you were holding in. You frowned.

“Are you going to tell the Professor?” You watched him soften his eyes.

“I’m his assistant, not his whisperer.” He grinned and you could not help but let out a nervous laugh.

“I have to go…” You held his gaze. “It was nice to finally talk to you.”

“Likewise.” He smiled at you. You felt your cheeks suddenly heat up. “You have a great mind.”

“Thank you…” You were going to say his name when you realized you could not remember it. 

“Vik tor .” You felt a sudden touch in the back of your head. Your eyes narrowed for a second, you could’ve sworn you heard his voice change. “You can call me Viktor.”

“T-Thank you, Viktor.” You gave him your name, taking a step back as you slowly started retreating. “I will go now.”

You turned around and started heading to the hall. Your heart started beating fast once more. Perhaps, you were still having side effects. Or the Academy was making you begin to lose your mind.

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[323cutie]

and i look into the open sky. | psh

pairing ୨୧ pirate seonghwa x mermaid reader

word count ୨୧ 570

genre ୨୧ Angst . forbidden love, ambiguity, yearning...

warnings ୨୧ none <3

author's note ୨୧ this has been a wip since september i love pirate hwa. anyways this might be my first non mental illness related angst work ? unsure

The air is cold when you break through the surface of the water.

It still surprises you after all this time, but you think it must be getting colder out here, too. It’s hard to see in the dark, but you think the trees in the distance, far beyond the town, are less green than the last time you saw them. You’re not here to contemplate the land’s seasons changing, though.

Seonghwa sits at the edge of the docks already, boots dipping past the surface of the sea. For a second you think he hasn’t seen you yet, but you remind yourself that you know better, and that he’s got a keen eye (and good instincts). He’s the only one of his whole crew who’s seen you. So you flick your tail to swim a little closer, the water lapping around you gently. 

“You’re early,” you say once you feel you’re close enough, breaking the silence. Aside from the tender waves and the distant yells from drunken sailors, it’s quiet. You worry anything more than a murmur will make your presence known. “You didn’t miss me that badly, did you?”

Seonghwa hums out a quiet laugh and finally meets your eyes, dark but lively in the moonlight. They shine with the light of all the stars he’s taught you and more, your favorite thing about him. “I did,” he responds. “Is that so bad?”

(You both know the answer.)

You reach up to the docks enough to lay your arms on the wood and rest your chin. It’s a risky move, but Seonghwa’s worth it. He leans closer, practically about to fall into the ocean, and you refuse to answer him with anything substantial. Instead you say, “me too.”

There are a million other things you could be doing that don’t involve risking your life by breaking the surface of the water. But somehow Seonghwa has you hooked, a cliche, naivety and a sprinkle of hope mixed into every word shared between the two of you. You know he’s kind. Would never confirm your existence, let alone whatever connection you have with him. Even still...

You dream of dressing him in real, beautiful pearls; showing him the beauty of the water, the sweetness of the creatures that inhabit it. You dream of trading your tail for legs, of standing next to him, holding him without your handprints showing through saltwater on his clothes.

“It’s getting cold,” you murmur after a moment, gazing at the way Seonghwa’s hair frames his face. “We’re leaving soon.”

You’ve mentioned the Passage before, and Seonghwa knows immediately what you mean. As the air gets colder, so does the sea. It used to be something you looked forward to, when you were small, wondering how you swam so far and so fast that the ocean got warmer. You don’t know how you feel about it now.

He asks, “how soon?”

You answer, “five moons.”

He sighs and it burns you. “That is soon,” he responds, solemn, knowing. He presses a palm to the dock beneath him. 

The rest of the words go unspoken. It aches when you reach to trace his hand with your own. The stars reflect in his eyes and you remember what he told you about his name, the planets in the sky he named and pointed out for you.

The sea and the sky are always meeting in the horizon, so how is it that you and Seonghwa are still so far apart?

[11queensupreme11]

Yes, I am making a reaction fic....... eventually lol

i know it says i started this back in 2023, but all i really did was make a cover. i didn't start making any chapters until a few months ago hehe

BUT ANYWAYS YES YOU READ THAT RIGHT! i am making a reaction/reading the books/watching the movies fic for arsenic blues!!!! in this case, it will be ror reacting to pjo

for anyone interested to learn more, go under the cut!

(this started off as me just giving you some info about cerulean cyanide, but then i ended up ranting about how much i loved the pjo tv show lol, soooo if you haven't watched it, don't go down)

first off, THIS IS MY FIRST TIME MAKING A REACTION FIC! i've read a lot of them, but i have no experience in actually making one. i'm kinda nervous ngl 😅

secondly, i've already started... somewhat. i've copied all chapters of the lightning thief into a google doc and made necessary edits, but i haven't written any reactions... YET. i want to include the ror gods AND humans as members of the audience, and since i haven't written about the ror humans as thoroughly yet, i won't be writing the reactions until i get to act 2 of arsenic blues, since that's when the ror humans are introduced. this is important for me because i don't have their characterizations down yet, and won't until i actually start writing about them and their dynamics with percy. same goes with cú chulainn, he's a literal love interest, but won't get introduced until act 2!

thirdly, because of what i said up there ^ cerulean cyanide won't be published until act 2 is finished to avoid spoiling what happens during ragnarok and the god's apocalypse.

fourthly, IT WILL BE INTERMIXED WITH THE TV SHOW!!! i fucking LOVED the show and (most of) the changes that were made, so i'm totally going to add them into percy's past that the ror characters will be reacting to.

so what elements of the show should you expect to see? glad you asked!

POSEIDON 💙

poseidon in the books is great, but i loooooove the new stuff they put in the tv show. in the books, we're mostly told that poseidon loves percy and there are times where it's shown, but it's kinda hard to pick up since the books are written in PERCY'S POV, and since poseidon is literally restricted from interacting with him, it's hard to notice how much he actually loves his son when he's not even allowed to be AROUND the dude who's perspective takes up the whole series.

but in the tv show, it's not just percy's perspective that's explored! that little moment poseidon had with sally told us SOOOO MUCH about how he actually felt for the both of them. and when he and percy finally met??? THE ANGST AND LONGING THEY BOTH SHOWED UHDFSIGVSVGD I LOVED IT SO MUCH

AND THE FACT THAT HE NOT ONLY SAVED PERCY FROM ZEUS BUT ALSO SURRENDERED??? HE GAVE UP HIS PRIDE AND PRIDE IS SUCH A HUGE AND IMPORTANT THING FOR GODS BUT HE GAVE IT UP WITH NO HESITATION AHHHHHHH 😭

so yes, expect to see a lot of the poseidon scenes from the tv show

HERMES BEING AT THE LOTUS CASINO

i actually really like the fact that hermes was shown in here instead of the next season. some people were confused as to what the point was for having him in the casino and why he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer, but i found this post on tumblr that explains why he could've been there:

in the last olympian, we (and percy) find out that hermes knew all along what luke's fate would be; that he would rebel against the olympians, bring forth kronos, become his host, etc. he knew ALL OF THAT. but he was never allowed to tell him (ancient laws), so he tried to CHANGE luke's fate in order to save him even though he knew it was pointless.

we get a bit of that in the tv show. hermes was there because he wanted to change luke's fate. he tricked the kids into staying at the casino longer so they would pass the deadline. war would come, and luke would get away with his thievery and nobody would know it was him because they're all too busy trying to kill each other. but ofc, like always, it didn't work because you can never change fate.

i love how the show showed us that hermes was trying to change his fate in the first season whereas in the books, it only started in the second book where he was introduced for the first time.

THE GODS' CRUELTY AND THEIR LOVE

the gods' cruelty and apathy was much more obvious in the show's first season compared to the first book. in the first book, most of the gods shown were jerks at best but the tv show really showed us how horrible of a family they are (most of them at least) to each other and their kids

like what show!ares said, his family loves to stab each other in the back, they love to hurt each other to get a higher leg up; they're not really a family. the audience and percy becomes VERY aware of that unlike in the books where it's more sugar-coated at the start.

we're shown very early on that they're not good people, but at the same time, we're shown that some of them DO care.

hephaestus was abused and mistreated by his family, but he refuses to be like them which is why he released percy from his trap; because he realizes that he and annabeth are good kids (ending the cycle). hermes loves his son and desperately wants to change his fate despite being told over and over again that its pointless. poseidon loves percy and wishes to be a proper family with him and sally, but isn't allowed to.

there are some good gods out there, which is why percy decided to stand by them instead of taking luke's offer to bring it all down. he's been shown that some gods ARE good. unlike in the first book where you don't really meet any decent gods, so book!percy honestly didn't have much of a reason to defend them, yet he did anyway when luke left camp. the show gave him (and us) a better reason to actually defend them

in the show, he's exposed to the god's cruelty, but he sees that it's not as black and white as he once thought "oh all the gods are bad and none of them care for their kids >:(", he sees the good in some of them and it's enough to make him want to save them instead of letting them crash and burn (like luke, who's blinded by his anger and hatred *cough cough* fatal flaw!!!! *cough cough*).

LUKE AND PERCY'S RELATIONSHIP

SHOW!LUKE WAS SO MUCH BETTER THAN BOOK!LUKE IMO.

book!luke was trying to kill percy very early on and was pretty much pretending to be his friend the whole time. yes his intentions and character get fleshed out as the books go on, but his relationship with percy... didn't offer much.

then there's show!luke who genuinely liked him and wanted to recruit him rather than kill him (that's why there's no scorpion scene). his betrayal was more personal and painful for percy. the fact that annabeth was there to watch it all happen was even better (not for her though LOL).

(and dont even get me started on how show!luke didn't hate grover like in the books. the genuine fear in his eyes when he found out that percy gave the shoes to him and the way his eyes got all misty??? he fully blames thalia's "death" on him and him only THE ANGUISH WAS SO 😭😭😭)

AND I THINK THAT MIGHT BE ALL?

so yes, these are some of the changes you should expect to see!

i wanna really contrast how different things are between the ror and pjo verse. ror gods are very close and tight-knit whereas the pjo gods are... well, "a mess" as percy so eloquently put it.

ror gods aren't forced under the tyrannical rule of zeus, their zeus is chill and just wants to have fun. they have no restrictions to follow and their divine laws aren't as oppressive

whereas pjo gods are under the tyrant rule of zeus and can't even interact with their kids.

ror gods are independent while pjo gods have to rely on the preservation of western civilization to stay alive and use demigods to break rules, etc etc.

pjo gods (some, at least) are kinder and have no issues falling in love with humans and loving their demigod children while ror gods are cruel assholes who commit genocide against humanity despite being the ones to create them

and etc etc.

ANYWAY, I HOPE YOU GUYS ARE AS HYPED UP AS I AM!!!! 🥳🥳🥳 can't wait to start writing reactions for the first time ever 🫨

[starheavenly]

https://www.tumblr.com/starheavenly/770700367672623104/2-lockets

Hello, hello! I love your content, and I’d like to share some thoughts on how Deadlock/Drift and Ratchet might react to the events in the post above.

I firmly believe that Locket’s death would leave permanent scars on both of them. No matter the timeline, it would be one of their greatest regrets. However, I think it would hit even harder for the parent Locket chose to follow

For AUTOBOT!LOCKET

I imagine Ratchet would be utterly shattered upon discovering that Locket—his child—had died in what was initially reported as a “mysterious work incident.” And later on, his grief would only deepen when the truth was revealed: they were murdered. Possibly brutally. Violently. And he wasn’t there for them.

The last time Ratchet saw Locket was during their fallout. He likely told himself there would be time later—time to mend the rift that had grown between them, to fix things. But now, that time is gone.

His child is dead.

His baby.

The bright spark he and Deadlock/Drift created together has been ripped away, and all Ratchet can do is drown in self-loathing for failing them. He wasn’t there when they needed him most.

(And I absolutely believe Dratchet would become full-on murderous when the truth came out—especially Drift—towards Pharma, their child’s murderer.)

For DECEPTION!LOCKET

Deadlock/Drift would be haunted by the belief that Locket’s ultimate demise is entirely his fault. Locket, his precious sparklet, had followed him after all. He settled the example, showed them how to walk a darker road, and now that choice has cost him everything.

If only he’d done something different. If only he’d been better—a better father, a better example, a better everything. Maybe Locket would still be alive. The knowledge that they died in service to a cause he once believed in would feel like a cruel twist of fate, one he could never forgive himself for.

(Ratchet, upon learning the truth and Locket’s fate, would absolutely let Drift have it. Absolutely beating him down with words, with no mercy. And Drift would take it—every blow, every word—because he knows he deserves it.)

Locket, their spark, their child, was gone, and the weight of that loss would haunt them both for the rest of their lives.

(Thank you for listening to my rambling, and for your time! Have a lovely night or day!)

MY SATURDAY MORNING ANGST!!!! I knew people would go crazy for those AU's..... But thank you for writing these up omg you're totally correct in all of it!! Although I will never admit to who killed Locket, DJD or Pharma, it's up to the fans. I will say.... If you want some extra angst I would like to remind you that Locket literally is a mix of Ratchet and Drift's sparks so.... those two did not need to be told that Locket passes away. They can just feel it.

[occasionalsnippets]

Okay I'm so very curious on what would happen in case fd!mc died. I've not caught up on all the lore but the idea that they'd focus on everyone elses tragedies, only to forget they're now a character too with their own problems and enemies and that (or something else) being their end. Like the angst potential just calls to me.

Taglist: @dragondevinity, @lonely-star2044, @sheep-from-rad, @ilxandra, @thethingwiththefeathers, @star-wars-lycanwing-bat, @sackofsadstuff, @zonked-times, @paastaboi, @venfia, @fantasy-angelo, @linaisadream

Asdlaskjdh I would love to kill them off, maybe like a bit after Jason comes to the manor. I just know that everyone is going to be trapped in the shadow of the pedestal they built for you!!!

Like, Bruce is perpetual longing to make things right by you. He forever catches himself thinking “what would you do” and “what would you tell him to do”, but never able to rely on your guidance to fix things again. Even though you acted essentially as his emotional crutch and translator and the initial impression of you basically being a (not) adult in his life, he’s eternally going to wish he could’ve done better for you. He isn’t your father and you weren’t his daughter. But, maybe you could’ve been something. It’s too late now, regardless.

Even though you’re six feet under, you’re no farther than you were in life. Dick remembers the distance between you and him more than anything else. Be it the distance he placed between himself and the manor or the ravine you dug yourself. He had always been more focussed on Tim than you and in many ways, you had orchestrated things so that it would be that way. You didn’t need him. Not like everyone else. And that leaves him with nothing of you but distant text messages and memories of you, dancing just out of his reach.

Jason remembers you amidst fluttering fabrics and blurry faces, shutters of a past he can barely recall. Your face in childhood is smeared in washes of green, blending with the images of the you of now that blares with every headline of your death. He’s never gotten to know who you are now when you aren’t hidden behind velvet curtains, in dresses covered in rhinestones worth more than an apartment complex. It haunts him. Just a bit. The same way he knows the memory of who he was before his death haunts Bruce.

Tim mourns in the Drake manor that has always been filled with more you than either of his parents. You’re gone now, just like them. It hits him harder than anyone he’s ever lost. Unlike everyone else, he almost had a surplus of memories of you, the good, the bad, the annoying and kind. It casts a daunting shadow of a role he’ll never be able to fulfil. A role that you, his perfect, unfailing, older sister, have left behind. The lingering warmth will kill him someday he thinks as he traces your path and follows in your footsteps.

Damian only knows you from stories and photographs and the half-aborted actions that the rest of the family takes. They are all trying to be something good for him and in the depths of the records his father keeps, he knows that it is your doing. You have always been larger than life to him. An idol-like figure he can never reach or know. There are millions of photos of you, thousands of angles, all of which he has learned to draw. He can imagine the gentle curve of your smile, mimic the posture when you stood, count the number of lashes on each of your eyes. But, he can only grasp at the ghost you left behind, unable to reach who you truly were.

The family will grieve. They will mourn. But, they will collect themselves eventually. You did not spend the last years of your life forcing them to communicate only for them to fall apart after you’re gone, after all.

[jksarchives]

HARD TO HOLD ON

He didn’t want this to happen, but it did.

➪ PAIRING; jungkook x reader

➪ GENRE; angst

➪TAGS/WARNINGS; established relationship, break-up, heartbreak, drabble, angst

➪ WORDCOUNT; 0.8k

26 JULY 2024

Rain pattered against the windshield and the city lights blurred past as his hands gripped the steering wheel.

“You’re going too fast,” you murmured from the passenger seat with a tight voice.

“I know,” he snapped, easing your foot off the gas. “I know, okay?”

You turned away, staring out at the rain-drenched streets. Silence filled the car, thick and suffocating, interrupted only by the squeak of the wipers and the occasional passing cars.

You wanted to say something, anything, to bridge the widening gap between you, but every word felt wrong before it even formed in your mind.

It hadn’t always been like this.

There was a time when the world melted away whenever he was with you — when his laugh could turn a bad day into something beautiful, and the touch of his hand felt like the safest place in the universe.

But now, the warmth was gone. You glanced at his profile, the sharp line of his jaw clenched in frustration. He looked like a stranger.

Again. For reasons unknown.

“Why are you angry this time?” you finally asked, your voice barely audible over the faint noise of the engine.

“I’m not angry,” he said, but the tension in his voice betrayed him.

“Don’t lie to me, Jungkook.”

He sighed. “It’s not about being angry, Y/n. It’s about…this. Us. We’re just…” He trailed off, shaking his head as if the words were too heavy to carry.

“We’re just what?” you pressed, your grip tightening on your jacket.

“Not like before,” he said finally, his voice a whisper.

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of you. Not like before. You felt it too — the growing distance, the way your arguments flared up over nothing and burned like wildfires. The way you couldn’t seem to touch each other without it feeling forced.

But you didn’t want to admit it. Not out loud.

“That’s not true,” you said with a trembling voice.

Jungkook turned to you with his gaze piercing. “Isn’t it? When was the last time we laughed together? When was the last time we looked at each other and really…saw each other?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came. You hated that he was right.

When you pulled into the driveway of your small, shared apartment, the car fell silent as the engine died. Neither of you moved to get out.

Jungkook stared at the dashboard, his hands still gripping the wheel. He could feel your gaze on him, but he couldn’t bring himself to meet it.

“We can’t keep doing this,” he said finally.

“Doing what?” your chest tightened.

“This,” he said, gesturing between you. “Hurting each other. Pretending everything’s fine when it’s not. Making each other’s faces red with anger over things that don’t even matter.”

You flinched at the bitterness in his tone. “So what? You think we should just give up?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Maybe. Maybe that’s what we need to do.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away.

“No,” you said, shaking your head. “We can’t just throw everything away, Jungkook. We’ve been through too much together. We can fix this.”

“How?” he asked, his voice breaking. “How do we fix something that feels so…broken?”

You didn’t have an answer.

The tension followed you both like a shadow inside the flat. The silence between you was louder than any argument you had, and the once-cosy room felt frigid and alienating.

You sat on the edge of the couch with your hands clasped tightly in your lap. While Jungkook stood by the window, staring out at the rain.

“I don’t want to lose you Jungkook” your soft voice broke the silence.

He turned to you with his eyes filled with a mix of sadness and exhaustion. “I don’t want to lose you either, Y/n. But we’re holding on so tightly that we’re hurting each other. It’s like…we don’t know how to let go, even though we should.”

The words cut deep because you knew they were true. You were holding on to the memory of what you both used to be, because you were too afraid of facing the possibility that you might not find your way back to it.

Jungkook was lying awake in bed that night, gazing up at the ceiling. Your steady breathing filled the room, but it didn’t comfort him the way it used to. He felt the weight of your presence, the unspoken thoughts lingering between you like a wall.

His thoughts strayed to your early days together, the late-night talks, the stolen looks, and the times you laughed until your sides ached.

How did you end up here?

When did everything start to fall apart?

a/n; this was loosely inspired by SEVENTEEN’s Fast Pace