#his parents stopped checking in and asking if he needed money. they wouldn’t have found him. his only friends were online too

[dumbfucksystem]

do you guys think anyone remembers to put flowers on airplane’s grave…

[harryspet]

Fic or Drabble whichever you wanna do.

Dark bsf Rafe taking advantage of vulnerable pregnant reader. Maybe her parents kicked her out? Or her baby daddy left her. Or whatever u see fit.

(Sorry if that sucks I just love ur work sm 🩷)

homestead | r. cameron [p.1]

[warnings] dark!rafe cameron x pregnant!reader, farmer!rafe, pogue!reader, implied jj x reader, kidnapping, future NONCON/DUBCON, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

word count: 3.6k

In which you reach rock bottom after JJ gets arrested and your first love returns to save the day.

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A boy. 

You looked down at your eighteen-week ultrasound picture and smiled weekly. You and JJ were having a baby boy, and you’d found out completely by yourself. Pope had offered a million times to attend one of your appointments, practically begging a few times because he didn’t want you to go alone. You always rejected him, as the idea of going with someone else never felt right. 

The Heyward’s had already done so much for you by letting you live in their spare bedroom for, basically, your entire pregnancy. No matter how much Pope tried to tell you that they didn’t mind at all, you saw in their eyes that the last person they wanted their son to be friends with was JJ Maybank’s baby mama. You promised them you’d be able to save enough money to get your own place by the end of your pregnancy. 

So far, your day job at a retail clothing store and the late shift you worked as a waitress at The Wreck made you enough to keep you afloat. Pregnancy check-ups and ultrasounds were an expense you weren’t initially expecting and you hated that you were contemplating skipping the next few visits to save money. Besides that, appointments meant you couldn’t work and you needed all the hours you could get. 

The picture reminded you of how much hard work was left, but the feelings were bittersweet. You were so excited to meet your little boy, no matter how small he was at the moment. If JJ’s case would move a little bit faster through the system, he could be there for the big day too. Everyone in Kildare was biased against him, knowing his father too well, and you knew the system would be biased against him as well.  

You were grateful for Pope and for knowing someone else loved JJ as much as you did. JJ wasn’t hard to love, but he was a complicated person, and your relationship seemed to bring out the darkest parts of him. Pope saw his dark side, but …he wasn’t there the night he got arrested. 

You didn’t know someone could yell so loud or be so angry. The two of you were living with his Dad, and the first few months were relatively peaceful, mostly because Luke would usually go out at night, get wasted, and crash on some other part of the island. You and JJ usually played house, taking turns making dinner for each other and sleeping together side by side. 

A week before you realized you were pregnant, Luke came around asking JJ for money that JJ “owed” him, and of course, JJ refused him. You knew he’d been saving for months to take you off the island for your birthday, and he wasn’t giving that up. The fight escalated, with both sides verbally tearing each other down. As soon as Luke mentioned JJ’s mother, there was no stopping JJ. 

The fight had already moved from the bedroom to the kitchen to the porch, and then the men wrestled in the yard. JJ would’ve killed Luke if the police hadn’t come. When he got taken away in cuffs, he was a bloody, swollen mess that you didn’t even recognize. 

It became even messier when Luke decided to press charges against his own son even though they’d both been arrested. You then decided that Luke Maybank was heartless and wouldn’t ever see what you saw in his son. 

It was the weekend, your one day off, and you’d chosen to spend most of it walking to the nearby department store after your trip to the clinic. The Heyward’s wanted to spend the day out on the water but rides on the boat were starting to make you extremely sick. Besides that, you hated fishing and It was one of the hotter days of summer but you’d chosen a lightweight t-shirt dress. Well, dresses were starting to be the only thing that you fit correctly with your growing stomach. 

You tucked the picture you were holding into your purse as you made your way inside. For the past month, you’d been working up the courage to go down the baby aisles. Yet another thing that felt completely wrong doing without JJ. Cara had also offered to help buy you things but you told her every time that you were waiting until you were closer to your due date. You’d hold off from nesting until you were sure that JJ wasn’t getting out. 

Slowly, you looked over every item. Cribs, diapers, breast pumps, baby formula, bottle warmers, and bibs. It was all so overwhelming and you knew getting everything would be expensive but the price tag didn’t quite register to you until now. You had no idea how you were going to pay rent one day and afford all of the things your baby needed. 

You picked up the cutest crib mobile decorated with rocket ships, stars, and planets, and your heart skipped when you realized it was over a hundred dollars. You’d have to work an entire shift to earn that. 

“Y/N?” 

You turned towards the deep voice and the mobile tumbled from your hands, “Shit,” You cursed as you went down with it, hoping you hadn’t broken it because you couldn’t afford to buy it. Rafe Cameron pushed his cart to the side and hurried to help you, “I got it,” You said quickly as you turned away, handing it back on its display. 

Then you really looked at him. The boy you’d been so obsessed with in highschool was not a boy. His light brown hair was longer than you remembered but was tamed by a baseball cap. His white t-shirt and jeans didn’t match the version of him you had in your head, but, honestly, he looked better than you remembered. 

He smiled, rubbing the stubble on his face, as he seemed to take you in. If Rafe looked ten times better, you probably looked ten times worse than you used to. You felt huge although people just started taking note of your bump a couple weeks ago and your hair was messily gathered away from your face. Your dress was not name brand, in fact, you remembered buying it from the exact store you were standing in and you wore boots that used to belong to JJ now that your feet were starting to swell. 

“Hey,” He said.

You breathed out, “Hi.”

“Congratulations,” Rafe glanced at your belly and you wanted to crawl inside your own skin, “I guess?”

“Thanks,” You nodded, “It’s . . . complicated.”

The sad part about being pregnant, unmarried, with your child’s father sitting in jail was that people had no idea what to say to you. 

“How are you?” He asked after you went silent.

“I’m good,” You forced a smile, “How are you?”

“Better now that I’ve ran into you,” His smirk was the exact same as you remembered, “You shopping for the little one?”

“Browsing,” You said, “Didn’t quite realize how expensive all this stuff is.”

You looked at him for understanding before you remembered you were talking to – Kildare’s richest bad boy, “You still keep all your little friends around?”

“Yeah, we’re all a bit spread out now, though. I’m staying with the Heyward’s right now.”

You weren’t quite sure why you were exposing your life to him, but part of you wanted him to know that you were fine, that you had made the right decision choosing JJ over him, and that you were still figuring out life, but you’d be happy. 

“Oh, so it’s Pope’s baby?” The smug look on his face made you realize he was teasing you. 

“You know exactly whose baby it is, Rafe,” You shot back, your eyes rolling back.

You turned to walk away but he grabbed you by your arm, “Y/N, I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I’m sorry, Honey.”

You quickly pulled your arm away from him, folding your arms in front of your chest. You looked over his cart, seeing it was filled with miscellaneous things, but the only thing you could recognize was a massive back of dog food, “You got a dog?”

 “A few,” he said, placing his hands in his back pockets, “I use ‘em for animal herding. Wrangler, Sadie, and a few puppies.”

“Animal herding?”

“Yeah, I got this place on the mainland. I just came through to see Wheezie. I promised she could have one of the puppies before I sold the others.”

“You got a place on the mainland?” Your eyebrows raised, and you tried to keep your mouth from gaping, “Puppies?”

He nodded, laughing lightly, “Had to get my shit together after I got out of rehab and living with my Dad and Rose, it was just never good for me. Still working for him, but I’m just better on my own, you know?”

“I didn’t know you went to rehab,” You said quietly, still trying to process the information he was relaying. 

“A few times to be honest but I’ve been clean for a year,” He admitted while looking a bit closer at you, “Is there anything you need right now? I can help.”

“No, I couldn’t let you do that,” You shook your head quickly, “I’m fine.”

“You never like to accept help, do you?”

“I don’t need anything right now,” You assured him. 

“Hmm,” Rafe huffed, “Can I at least give you a ride, Y/N?”

“How do you know I don’t have one?” 

He gave you a knowing look that made you want to punch him. He was new and improved Rafe, but he was still an asshole, “Well, I also came to look for a new living room rug, and I could use a woman’s perspective. Help me, and I’ll give you a ride back to the Heyward’s.” 

“Whatever,” You shrugged before you began walking, “Fine.”

In his eyes, you could tell he thought he’d won. 

This was so wrong. So, so wrong. JJ would kill you. JJ would kill him. This wasn’t high school anymore, and you weren’t the insecure girl vying for the rich bad boy’s attention. Besides that, you’d always been an option for Rafe. JJ always chose you despite where you came from; now you might have a real chance of having a family. 

You blamed the way your body heated up when he spoke your name on your racing hormones and on the fact that you’d been separated from JJ for months. 

Rafe said he only came to main island to visit Wheezie, but as the weeks passed, you realized he’d found a new reason to visit. At least two times a week, he came in to the Wreck to order food and talk to you. Not only that, he practically texted you daily checking in on you. 

“Why the sudden change?” You asked him one night when closing time was closely approaching and you’d served all your tables, “I mean, I know you hated JJ but I didn’t think it would get in the way of, you know, us.”

“It’s my biggest regret after getting to know you again,” He admitted and the look in his eyes made your heart sink, “But I didn’t really know what I was doing when I was younger. I was so stupid, all I cared about was getting my Dad’s approval and I spiraled when that inevitably didn’t happen.” 

He had a way of making you question all of your own decisions. 

“Ward definitely wouldn’t approve of me now.”

“I told you I don’t care what he thinks.”

“Or what the entirety of Figure 8 will think?”

“Not at all,” He said.

“I care what my friends think.”

“You’re different than them now,” Rafe reached across the table to grab ahold of your hand as his blue eyes stared deeply into your eyes, “You have a great responsibility on your shoulders now. You have to do what’s best for you and the baby. That’s it, fuck what they think.”

“They do want the best for me,” You whispered, tears stinging your eyes.

“They want JJ for you. And he’s sitting in jail right now.”

You pulled your hand away, looking out the onto the dock and dark water. 

“You don’t even know how you should be treated,” Rafe said mostly to himself.

“What does that mean?”

“It means–” He stopped himself, but his skin was flushed with red and you sensed he was calming himself down, “I just think you deserve better.”

“And you’re going to walk into my life after all these years and save me? I can do this by myself.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” Rafe leaned in, “JJ’s going to get out but things aren’t going to get better.”

“Why would you say that?”

“It’s true, he’s a fuckup. He won’t get a good job and there’s a good chance he’ll go right back,” That tipped you over the edge and your chair scraped loudy on the ground as you stood up, ‘“I’m sorry. Look, I’m sorry. I can drive you home.”

“Pope is coming to get me.”

You didn’t spare him a second look as you walked to the back of the kitchen. Until now, he’d refrained from putting all the weight of his judgement on you but you knew all a long he thought you were making a mistake. He’d been through a lot but he’d never struggled like you and JJ had. At the end of the day, he’d always had Ward’s money to fall back on. 

He just hated JJ and he was doing his best to get in between the two of you. 

Two weeks later, you were standing outside the Kildare County Jail, not because you were visiting JJ but because he was being released. Luke dropped the charges against him, and they released lower offenders due to overcrowding. You watched a few reunifications and waited on a cold bench in the lobby; blue hydrangeas in a small bouquet sat neatly in your lap. Your dress was also blue and printed with daisies. He had no idea the two of you were having a boy, and it was your sweet idea of telling him. 

You’d blocked Rafe’s number just that morning after ignoring his messages and calls. He was wrong. Even if he was calling to tell you that, you didn’t want to hear it. They never specified how long it would take to process him but you started to doze off after waiting for two hours. An officer in beige uniform tapped your shoulder lightly to wake you.

You were still hopeful and you expected to see JJ right behind him, “Hello, ma’am. Unfortunately JJ Maybank cannot be released today.”

“What?” Your eyes widened, “Uhm, why?”

“I was informed that additional charges have been filed against him.”

“What do you mean additional charges?” You asked, concern raising in your tone, “Who can I talk to?”

You when through every channel of communication possible, searching for answers. They couldn’t possibly expect you to leave like nothing happened. You found out from another officer, after heavy begging, that they filed another battery charge against him involving another inmate. Somehow, in the two days that he knew he was getting out he managed to catch another charge. 

“Could I at least visit him?” You’d asked and they told you he was in a segregated unit now and not allowed visits. 

You felt your heart physically break. When it fully started to sink in, you left to get fresh air. You walked for a long while until you started to panic. You sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and through teary eyes you tried to search for Pope’s number. What would you do now? Go back to the Heywards and continue to accept their charity? You were kidding yourself thinking you could do this alone. 

It felt like a rejection. You’d never had a real family. JJ knew that and yet he’d left you all alone again. 

You let your phone fall to the side, deciding you wanted to be miserable by yourself and you didn’t want to burden his family any longer. You threw the flowers into the street before your head fell in your hands and you finally let yourself cry for the first time since JJ had gone away. 

The bouquet you’d carefully put together lay discarded in the street and you had no care about the mud that was probably staining your dress now. Just as your chest started to tighten unbearably, you heard the low rumble of car engine and a shadow seemed to drape itself over you. You heard someone calling you, telling you to breathe, but your body wouldn’t obey the instructions. 

Your baby needs you to take a breath, you told yourself but the thought of your baby only made your guilt worsen, “I’ve got you,” You heard that familiar voice say. Being in his arms was far from familiar but your body didnt protest when it felt itself lifted in the air and placed on soft leather. 

The next time you looked up, you felt the car moving, and you saw the sun setting through the window. You felt a hand on your thigh rubbing soothing circles but you felt more paralyze than anything, “Try to take deep breaths,”  You heard him say but your body wasn’t yours to control, “Everything’s gonna be okay now. I’m going to take care of the two of you.” 

You were not in the squeaky twin bed at the Heyward’s house when your eyes peeled open the next morning and you realized that quickly. You saw wooden beams overhead and walls painted a soft cream color. You turned your head to see sunlight coming through lace-curtained windows. As fast as you could move with the extra weight, you pushed the comforter off of you and moved over to the window. It offered a view of rolling fields and distant trees, the greenery stretching as far as your eyes could see.

Looking back around the room, you saw a sturdy, antique bed with wooden nightstands on either side. A handmade quilt with vibrant patches of red and blue sat on top of the bed. Plush pillows piled at the head of the bed. On top of one nightstand was a well-worn book and a framed photo of younger Rafe with a blonde woman beside him. 

On the other nightstand was a vase of freshly picked wildflowers. You remembered your blue hydrangeas, and yesterday’s events came flooding back to you, “Fuck,” You cursed, and your eyes found the bedroom door. Before thinking about walking towards the door, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the large mirror, sitting on top of a wooden dresser. You were dressed in a white silk pajama top and bottoms, a tiny sliver of your belly poked out the bottom of the shirt, but otherwise, they fit you perfectly. All you could do was curse, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You moved quickly towards the door, but it opened before you grabbed the handle. You covered your mouth as a shriek left your lips.

Despite your startled appearance, Rafe appeared calm. His hair looked like it had just woken him up, and he wore a simple T-shirt and gym shorts. He closed the door behind him, acting as another barrier to your escape, “What the fuck, Rafe?”

He shushed you, “You need to stay calm,” He warned you, “There’s no point in getting riled up.”

“I was having a panic attack and . . . and you–”

“You needed to get away,” He raised his hands as if to show he wouldn’t cause you harm, “I took you home with me.”

“You took me home with you?” You spoke back to him, “I have a home. Why didn’t you take me back to the Heyward’s?”

“That’s not your home, Honey, and you know that.” 

You shook your head, “You don’t get to decide that. Where’s my phone?”

“It’s wherever you left it,” Rafe shrugged, “You know, when you were having a panic attack on the side of the road. Alone and pregnant with absolutely no one looking out for you. Imagine if it wasn’t me who found you.” 

Rafe looked annoyed like it was you who was crazy in this scenario. You tried to ignore the thought of him undressing you and putting you in these new clothes. The idea of that became harder as you watched his eyes trail from your feet, higher and higher, “Jesus Christ, you don’t even know how precious you are,” He came closer until you were stumbling back onto the bed, “I want you to stay here with me.”

“And if I don’t want the same?” You looked up at him. 

“I’ll let you think it over. Give it some time,” He nodded to himself, “Are you hungry?”

You didn’t answer, only stared back, “I’ll make you something. I’ll be right back.”

He turned on his heel, and as you realized what he was doing, you hurried after him. He closed the door, and as you furiously turned the knob, you realized he’d locked it, “Rafe!” You screamed as you pounded on the door, “Rafe, please don’t do this!”

You felt your tough exterior melt away. This was serious. He was completely serious about keeping you here. 

You rushed over to the windows next, throwing open the curtains, and found that they didn’t budge even as you pushed at them. You kept yourself from another panic attack, knowing that Pope would be looking for you right now. You never told him about Rafe … you were so concerned about him judging you that you next rold him. But if someone found your phone, they would know … but you had no idea what really happened to it.

As you started to pace, you suddenly felt a fluttering sensation. You stopped as you felt a tiny kick inside of you, an unmistakable movement that echoed throughout your whole body. Gently, you caressed your stomach. “I hear you,” you said through heavy breaths as your eyes moved around the room. It’s okay. I’ll figure this out. Don’t worry.”

Please let me know what your thoughts and predictions are! Reblog with a comment to be added to my taglist!

[unabashegirl]

Different 3 | College HS

Harry's quiet, routine-driven life changes one weekend when he meets Y/N through a mutual friend at her party. She comes from a superficial, materialistic world with absent parents who believe money solves everything. Despite their differences, something clicks that night, and Y/N can't stop thinking about him.

Author’s note: hello everyone, I am so happy you are all enjoying the last few written pieces that I’ve published.

check out my patreon (starting at $2) and get full access to all 25 chapters, various one shots and much more :)

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What are you doing right now?

He played with the corners of his phone’s cover as he looked down at the message that he had just received from her. They had been talking since the day after her soccer match. Harry unconsciously bit his bottom lip, thinking of a response that wouldn’t sound too nerdy or boring. He had been studying for a test. He was about to sit down and play some video games with his roommate. There was no chance he would admit that he was studying on a Friday evening.

Nothing much🫠

He wrote and deleted the words a few times; hating the way he sound and how uncertain he felt when he was around her. He finally stopped making any sort of assumption and pressed send. He placed his phone beside him before turning on the console. Right before he could grab the control, his phone beeped. Harry closed his eyes for a second and decided to leave it for a few minutes, so he would come across as desperate. That was until he realized he couldn’t concentrate on the game and gave in.

I am hungry

Do you want to come with me to pick up some food?

He smiled like a fool. He hadn’t seen her since that Monday. He wanted to ask her to spend some time together, but he had been too scared of being rejected. He wanted to be with her, but he thought he needed to be realistic. She was way out of his league. Y/N was too special to be with someone so ordinary as him. Although the thought of Y/N becoming his girlfriend made his skin get goosebumps and his heart rate rise.

Right now?

Yes. I’ll pick you up

Ok

Harry quickly freshened up and threw on a long sleeve shirt, some sweatpants, vans, and a beanie since it was starting to get colder. It was a Friday, and he still couldn’t understand how Y/N was free and more importantly willing to hang out with him.

On my way 🚗

“Where are you going?” Ganesh, Harry’s roommate asked, watching him freak out. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes. I’m just going out with a friend” He responded, just as he found the keys to the room.

I am here!😊

“Who is she?” He had never seen Harry so agitated and so different. He was always so collected and calm, nothing ever bothered him.

“No one you know” He lied and shut the room door.

“Hi!” Y/N smiled, turning down the radio as he got into the car. She wore sweatpants and a green t-shirt.

“Sorry for the wait. I couldn’t find my keys” He apologized just as she started the drive.

“What do you want to have?” She asked as she drove down the busy streets. “I could honestly eat anything. I am starving”.

“Anything would be lovely” Y/N nodded as she thought of where they could go and genuinely enjoy it. Somewhere, where they could sit and enjoy and nice conversation and a meal.

“I haven’t eaten anything today” The fridge at the apartment was packed with all sorts of food. Unfortunately, Y/N didn’t like to cook, not because of the act itself, but because of all the cleaning that had to take place afterward. She had made herself some coffee and a sandwich in the morning, but she hadn’t had dinner or lunch.

“When was the last time you ate? Harry asked trying to make conversation.

“This morning after class” She shrugged, “I don’t enjoy cooking. Do you?”

“I do” he admitted with a bit of embarrassment. “I find it quite enjoyable”

“Maybe I should invite you over, so you can cook for me” Y/N joked, but not really. She found it very romantic when a man cooked for a woman.

“How is your knee?”

“It’s just bruised and still sore, but no biggie”  Y/N decided to get some food at a nearby Panera. She was really craving some soup and a sandwich. Plus she found the place very cozy and nice. “Is here alright?” She asked as she parallel parked.

“Perfect” He couldn’t care less where they ate. He just wanted to spend some time with her.

“Would you like to eat here? Or we could pick up and go to mine? It’s just a few blocks away” Y/N offered in case he didn’t want to dine in.

“H- Here is fine” He instantly felt nervous about being at her apartment. Therefore, he preferred to stay at Panera. Somewhere where he knew that he would be able to form complete sentences.

They both got out of the car and Harry stood beside her. He got a whiff of her scent. She smelt like flowers specifically like lavender. He felt like a creep, but the scent was intoxicating. Y/N threw on a white hoodie and then locked the car.

They each ordered a cup of soup with half of a sandwich. Y/N ordered lemonade whilst Harry ordered iced tea. Y/N then took it upon herself to find them a comfortable booth where they could sit and converse. She chose one that was by the window and on a corner. It was nice a private.

���How was the rest of your week? Y/N asked as they finally sat down with their food.

“A bit hectic. I’ve got this test on Monday that has been keeping me up” He shared, dipping his spoon into his chicken tortilla soup.

“I know the feeling,” She said, “You’ve never told me the story behind your accent” Harry smiled and wiped the corners of his mouth.

“My mother and father moved here months after giving birth to me. My father is American, and my mother is very English and so am I. Although I’ve been more exposed to America’s culture, the accent is thanks to my mother. My parents moved back to England when I started college. It was that or getting the divorce” It was all very foreign to Harry. He rarely shared so much of his private life with anyone. He would even go to the extremes of leaving the room when his mother would call just so he could have privacy from Ganesh. Although, it all felt very different with her. He felt like he could tell her his darkest secrets and Y/N wouldn’t judge.

“But they are still together” She loved his accent. It singled him out of the bunch.  She found it very attractive how he could drag the last syllables of the words and how raspy his voice sounded.

“Yes.”.

“Oh! That’s nice”.

“What are you talking about? Your parents are still together too!” He pointed out, opening the bag of chips that came with the meal.

“Sure, but my parents are never home” Y/N shrugged, “Are you close to your mom?”

“Very much”

“I’m not. They spend a lot of time away, but I sort of get it. My father says it’s the sacrifice we pay to keep the type of lifestyle that we desire” Harry could tell that she didn’t believe her father’s words. He couldn’t blame her — neither did he.  He could tell that she had a very lonely life as opposed to what everyone thought.

“Would you like my pickle?” He asked as he pushed it away from the rest of his food. Y/N instantly burst into a giggle. It took Harry a few seconds to understand why she was laughing, but he caught on and joined in the laughter. “What is it with you Americans and your obsession with adding pickles to everything!”

“They are tasty!” Y/N stabbed his pickle with her fork and took it away from him.

“You eat weird things like,” he thought for a second, “Rice Krispies!” He exclaimed. “Whose idea was that?!”

“Take that back!” Y/N didn’t want to admit it, but her pantry consisted of them. Whenever she was in a hurry, she would throw two or three in her purse and call it day. Her obsession came from her mother not allowing her to have them when growing up. “They are so tasty!”.

“Absolutely not. Horrid”.

“Well, unfortunately, this has come to an end” Harry laughed at her exaggeration and finished eating his panini. “So, did you miss me?”

“Horribly” Thankfully he had swallowed all the food in his mouth when she had asked it. His cheeks had turned a tone or two darker and for a second he had thought he was going to be sick. Although, he was quite surprised and proud of himself for his honest answer and without any stuttering.

Y/N felt like her heart was about to burst out of her chest and that butterflies in her tummy. It had been a long time since she had ever felt this way toward anyone. She moves closer to him, to the point where their shoulders are touching. Y/N turned to look at him and was met with his big eyes that she had grown to adore.

“Do you like me?” She asked as she leaned close to him.

“I- I do” his stutter was back, but he didn’t care. He could smell her intoxicating scent again, and it was enough to drive him crazy. Her hand reaches up and to the back of his neck, where she tangled her fingers.

Their noses touched, and their foreheads met.

“Good because I like you too” Y/N whispered then pressed their lips against one other.

Harry closed his eyes as soon as their lips touched for the first time. She kept a hand on his chest for leverage whilst the other remained tangled in his hair. Her lips were just as plump and soft as he had imagined. His entire body froze for the seconds they share the kiss. He opened his eyes as he felt her pull apart, but before he could open them fully, she kissed him again. This time it was more long and affectionate. It was as if there was no concept of time. As if they were the only ones in this world sharing a kiss. They both felt invisible and nothing else mattered.

chapter 4

[the-missann]

Snippet Saturday [2]

From: The Moon, Wolf, and Rabbit

It didn’t seem as if time was even moving inside of the Tsumi’s study, Cassie—after finding nothing of note in the room—asked him something.

“How long have we been in here?”

“Probably a few hours by now. I’m sure it’s nighttime.”

Cassie sighed. “Then I guess I need to head home. I don’t want my parents worrying something happened.” Cassie paused. “Speaking of that, what about you? Didn’t you have work today?”

“I did, but I actually quit.”

“What? Why?”

“Would you really want some deity checking out a book for you?”

“I would assume I wouldn’t know.”

Tsumi chuckled. “I’m kidding. I really quit because there’s no need for me to work a job anymore.”

“What about food or money? How are you gonna do anything anymore?”

He smiled. “I know you have to get home, but mind if I show you one last thing?”

She shrugged. “I guess, what is it?”

“The answer to your question.”

He took her hand and even though Cassie wasn’t sure why he kept doing that, she made no effort to tell him to stop. She was guided to the strange door she noticed when they arrived. Thinking it was decorative, she ignored it; but Tsumi brought her to the door and opened it.

If Cassie could explain what she expected to see, it wouldn’t have been anything like the sight before her. Not even in the shows she indulged herself in had a location quite like this one. It was an ambient room with soft lighting from a moon lamp hanging from the ceiling. The roof of the large room had other astrological figures; the one she recognized was the Libra symbol.

As they went further into the room, what appeared to be star dust filtered through the air. In the large room there was a couch with a big table right in front of it, along with a few items scattered on the table the room appeared immensely cozy. Above them was a short staircase that seemed to lead to a nook Cassie couldn’t see all the way inside.

Her amazement got the better of her and she once more took in the room, losing herself in its appearance. Tsumi watched her like he did before finding her interest entertaining to watch.

“This place is apparently where I lived at one point. I believe you and the mysterious boy we have yet to meet may also have something like this.”

Cassie scoffed. “Like a family home or something?” She mumbled to herself. “I can’t believe that. Why wouldn’t my family know about it?”

“Like I said, we’re not actually blood related to our past selves. As far as I found, my past self didn’t have children.”

“Then maybe someone in my past did. It just doesn’t make much sense that we’re related to our past selves, but we’re actually them. Almost like some kind of broken reincarnation.”

“Or a rewrite?”

She looked at Tsumi’s, taking in his point. “Yeah, that is the only way this would make sense.”

“If that is the case, then it makes sense why my past self felt I was different. That things would turn out differently.”

Cassie crossed her arms. “I still can’t get over this. It’ll never make much sense that any of this is real.” Cassie looked around. “But I guess it is.”

Tsumi chuckled at her and stepped closer to her. “You know how I like to view it? I like to say this was inevitable, but we were blissfully unaware of it. However, the world knew we had something to do with one another and stuck us together somehow.”

“Sounds like some kind of video game.”

“I know. Hard to believe that stuff could be based in some kind of reality.” Tsumi promptly moved on. “But, I’ll take you home now.”

“Oh, if you quit your job, did you move out of your place?”

“Yes, I did. Again, I had no need for it. Especially when I have this place.”

Cassie looked off. “Then how are we supposed to meet?”

He looked at her and grew a look of fondness. “Don’t worry about that. I can find you anywhere you are in the world and if you ever want to find me, it’s as simple as just calling me.”

They stared at each other, and Cassie still couldn’t adjust to the way Tsumi was now. His behavior was something vastly off from his normal and while she wouldn’t say she hated it; she didn’t really know how to respond to this version of himself. She wanted to say something, but she kept it to herself—like always—and instead just nodded to him.

“Alright, that’s simple enough.”

“Right, then let’s get you home.”

[dingusfreakhxrrington]

Icarus

pairing: remus lupin x sirius black

summary: in a world without wizards, remus moves to london in search of something more. it’s there, in a dimly lit bar in 1979, where he meets a troubled singer with a tendency to fly too close to the sun. can he pull sirius back down to earth before he gets burnt or will he learn to let loose and rise through the flames?

warnings: muggle au, band au, gay!remus, bi!sirius,

chapter word count: 798

chapters: 01, more coming soon…

read on ao3 here | masterlist

London was a spectacle. Completely unlike anywhere else. Not one person was the same, each passerby in the street living entirely separate lives while still somehow all remaining connected. It was simply the way of the capital, Remus supposed.

He had grown up moving from place to place as it was what his father’s job had demanded of them. All in all, he had a decent childhood. He made friends where he could and eventually got used to the many final goodbyes as they packed up and moved to a new town. He had parents who loved him and, for a time, that was enough.

By the time he turned eighteen, he knew he needed something more. He couldn’t live in his father’s shadow forever and he had no intentions of following in his footsteps. No, he needed to find his own path.

Against his parent’s wishes, he packed his things and left. Well, it was his father who was angered at his leaving, disappointed that his son would not be joining his company after all.

His mother was sad to see him go but knew it was what he wanted. She had always encouraged him to do what made him happy, even if that advice was now to drive a rift between him and his father. She packed him a sandwich, leaned up onto her toes as she cupped each side of his face, pulled him down toward her, and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead as she bid him goodbye.

That was how he found himself here, moving into a cosy flat in central London. He was lucky to find a place so soon. Lucky to have had enough cash saved up to assure his new roommate that he would have enough money for rent until he found some source of income. His father gave him nothing, of course. He had said: ‘If you want to make a life for yourself then do it. You will get no handouts from me.’ Or something along those lines. So there was no familial support but that was what he wanted. Remus just wanted to prove himself — to find himself.

“Remus? Have you seen my heels? The black ones with the straps?”

The boy, who was curled up in one corner of the sofa with a thick blanket and a book in hand, reluctantly looked up from the page and shook his head. “No. ‘ave you checked under your bed?”

The red-haired girl sighed and turned back to her bedroom and Remus waited for the few seconds that passed before she was calling back saying that she had found them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” she asked as she put on her heels, fastening the straps around her ankles.

He folded the corner of the page and put his book down, knowing he wasn’t going to be able to read until she was gone.

“Nah, I’ve got work in the morning.”

The girl huffed and checked her makeup in the small, circular mirror that hung on the hallway wall. “You’re no fun. Come next time? Please? Marlene has been dying to see you again.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “Lils, you know I don’t swing that way.”

Lily sighed. “I know but she won’t stop nagging me. You’ll come out with us next week though won’t you? You have to party a little on your birthday.”

Remus had been in London for just under two months. He met Lily, his new roommate, the day he arrived. That very day, when she laid down the ground rules, she found out his deepest, darkest secret. Remus Lupin was gay. Her reaction to this, however, was much better than he had anticipated. In fact, she was overjoyed that she wouldn’t have to worry about kicking out another roommate for coming on to her.

“No clubbing.”

“Fine, no clubbing. But you will come out, right? I know a good bar we can go to. Live music, lots of eye candy. Might even find you a bit of fun,” she chuckled and ruffled his hair.

Remus was quick to swat her away and combed a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be there.”

“Great! Well, I’m off. See you later!”

With a hasty kiss to the cheek, she was gone.

Lily Evans was almost more than he’d signed up for. She was a whirlwind, a total force of nature. A complete and utter party animal. Then again, so were most people their age. There was little else to do to pass the time. Unlike Remus, however, Lily always managed to find time to both party until the sun came up and work her arse off for a meagre paycheck.

Relishing in his newfound peace and quiet, Remus resumed his book.

next chapter (coming soon)

feel free to let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist!

[duchesstopaz]

*Trigger Warnings: Descriptions of physical abuse, mental abuse, emotional abuse, parental abuse, verbal abuse, child neglect, threats, anxiety, panic attacks, violence towards children.* Monday, June 19th, 2023 Part 4 6:32pm

When I was 15, I was forced to get a job to pay for all of my school fees. I had to convince my future manager to give me the position illegally because I would eventually turn 16 in 3 months, which was the legal age to work at the time. After I got the job, you told my mom to force me to give her all of my paychecks to help her with the bills and groceries, and confiscated my money to use as an allowance for me. So, when I continued to be your perfect little pawn, then, I would slowly get the money I needed for my school activities. You used that opportunity to stop helping my mother with the bills, even though she made half as much as you, and a little after I was 16, you had 2 new cars and started your impulsive Amazon shopping habit that turned the extra bedroom into the “workout room” that it is today. I wasn’t even allowed to save for a car because I didn’t have my permit, which is because you and mom decided not to teach me until a year later because I wasn’t “making enough to get a car in the first place”. How does that make sense?

I decided to take inspiration from my father and turn vegan during my sophomore year. I had to learn how to grocery shop on my own for my diet, and cook for myself because he didn’t need “his wife” taking extra time to focus on my “unnecessary needs”, which was fine, I learned so much from that time. But, he also asked me questions everyday about the benefits of veganism and the recipes I was making and how much things costs because he wanted to “cut down from 330lbs to 260lbs”. He tried to make me feel antagonized for being vegan and that I was a burden on my mother for it, but also showed interest in it, then all these years later, he’s vegetarian now because he was inspired by me.

When I was 17 and a senior in high school, I didn’t have the motivation to truly apply for scholarships and to college due to my severe depression. No one ever asked or checked in on how that process was going, because it was assumed that I was doing great in school and would go to college, true, but still. I received no assistance searching for schools and scholarships, and it was because of my teachers that I received my full-ride scholarship to an almost Ivy League-level school. I wasn’t even excited when I received it because I was anxious to tell you all. And, I was right to, because you both weren’t even excited when I told you, the interaction lasted 2 seconds. Yet, you both turned around and gushed to everyone who would listen and on social media of how proud you were of me and how hard I worked. You wouldn’t even tell me that yourself.

I told my counselor about some of the trauma that you put us through because I wrote about it in my essays. I also wrote about how I found out that you were beating my mom, after she told me that she wanted to divorce you. I made the counselor promise me that she wouldn’t report it because the abuse stopped years ago, but while I was house-sitting for my mom’s boss, CPS came to the house. I admitted that I talked to the counselor about some things that happened at home, and my mom told me that she was glad that I was staying at that house because you were threatening to kill me.

I was part of the ever-controversial class of 2020. So, before the COVID lockdowns started, I was already planning for prom and graduation. I asked my “parents” for assistance paying for some of the costs needed to have the prom and graduation that I deserved, I guess I should have expected that you would say no. And, it was a slap in the face when you both told me to research how to make my graduation invitations and find a photographer, to not only pay for by myself, but to send to all of my and my mom’s family and to yours. And after the lockdown, and all those plans were canceled, you only threw me a party after my Nana told me she was making me a cake.

James decided to “gift” me his second pickup truck for graduating. Not mentioning all of the functional issues the truck had, and directing me to pay the $3,000 dollars worth of work that needed to be done to it. Then, after asking him if the truck would survive the 3-hour trip to Atlanta, he told me that he didn’t know and that I should continue fixing it. 2 weeks of me starting college, the truck was out of commission and he refused to help me figure out what to do. And a year later, after paying $1,500 of parking fees for a broken truck, he finally came down and scraped the truck, but kept all the money from it. It’s no surprise though, since through my 2 and a half years of college before this “gap year”, I never received any financial support from my adults.

I spent every break trying to avoid coming home. I took advantage of the fact that my college offered to house students who have abusive households over the break. Especially after my first Christmas break, where mom and I had our fight about literally all the trauma that I have endured from my supposed “father-figures”, that she continues to ignore, excuse, defend, and support. When my school denied me the opportunity to stay on campus the summer after my sophomore year, I thought I was going to be homeless. I wasn’t allowed back home after the fight, and I had no where else to go. But, after talking to my dad’s side of the family, I went back to where I grew up to stay with them. Of course, only to endure more abuse and more “conversations” of them defending my dad, because apparently, my whole family is fucked all the way up!

After I returned for my junior year, I thought things were going to be great. I was finally moving on from all the shit that you and everyone else did to me. But of course, scary men still exist, and after experiencing yet another triggering, traumatic event, I was done with this life that I’ve been dealt. Hence, the medical leave, or as most people refer to it, “a gap year”, and moving to New York with my sister, and then, having no choice but to move back home when everything fell apart.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 Part 5

[sadandcha0tic]

More Than a Friend; a short story by me

“Are you sure you don't want me to take you home?” 

“I’m fucking sure, just go already… please.”

“Ugh, fine, fuck you then,” he said, speeding off in his car. He being my boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend, Lewis. 

The reason for that he is now my ex is that I just found out that he has been sleeping with my best friend, Lilliana, for over five months. We’ve been together for six. Naturally, I told him to fuck off. Gotta pretend like I actually liked him and wasn’t just using him so people wouldn’t find out that I’m a flaming fucking lesbian. 

That ended with me, here, in the middle of the parking lot of a restaurant that's a 30-minute drive from my house, with no money and no ride. Shit. I can’t call my brother, he’s working, Mom would kill me, and Dad’s been dead for 2 years. The only other person I can think of is my childhood best friend (now sorta enemy), Morgan. Double-Shit, fuck.  

I call her. Pick up, pick up, pick up!! 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Morgan, it's me, Blair... um, can you pick me up?”

“And why the hell would I do that?”

“Because Lewis just fucking broke up with me… also because I asked nicely?”

“...fine, where are you? And that was not nice”

***

And now, here I am, in Morgan’s car. She hasn’t said a word since she picked me up twenty minutes ago. That is until now. 

“What happened?”

“He’s been fucking Lilliana for more than five fucking months”

“Holy shit, the asshole was sleeping with your friend??”

“I know right!! I don’t blame Lilliana though, she knew I never liked him.”

“Want me to beat him up for you,” she says, smirking at me.

“Nah,” I laughed, “he’d be fucking dead!” 

She laughs, and Shit, I forgot how much I loved the sound of her laugh. I forgot how much I missed this, I wish I had never stopped talking to her. what was I afraid of? We were so close but now… 

“Wanna hang out at my place? We can eat ice cream, watch some movies, and if you want you can sleep over,” she said, breaking the silence I wasn’t even aware of.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” I said, shocked but happy all the same. I smile at her, as she puts her gorgeous long dyed dark red hair into a ponytail. Was she always this beautiful? I thought to myself, but then I push the thought aside, remembering that I had just been broken up with less than an hour ago. That's the only reason she’s doing this, I tell myself, she pities me. Although this doesn't feel like pity, it feels more like… an indescribable joy, definitely more than how I have felt with any other friend. 

***

We arrive at her house, and surprisingly she runs around to open the car door for me.

“What a gentlewoman” I laugh. She just smiles her stupid, goofy smile at me, while holding the door for me to get out. Dear Fucking God, she’s beautiful… Shit, it’s happening again. I like her, don’t I? Fuck…

We walk inside and exchange pleasantries with her parents and little sister, who are on their way out the door, to go to dinner. I check the time, my wristwatch reads 6:45 pm, when they say they will be back around 10:00. Over three hours with just me and Morgan, alone in her house?? Fuck. 

After they leave, she grabs my hand, leading me to her room. I try not to freak out about holding her hand, but my attempts are pointless. She doesn't let go until we are both sitting on her bed, eyes locked. 

She nervously clears her throat and turns to grab the TV remote. Did I make her nervous? No, I couldn’t have, she’s straight… or at least I thought she was. I could have been wrong. I need to stop indulging in these thoughts. 

She turns on this new rom-com movie, but I don’t pay attention to it, I’m too busy staring at her, her eyes, her hair, her lips, her… Eventually, she is gonna notice… I should stop, but I can’t seem to take my eyes off her…

“What?” she says smiling over at me. 

“Nothing… you’re just…”

“Just, what?”

“Beautiful” I whisper, while realizing I’ve definitely been staring at her lips for too long. Her breath catches when she notices, and bites her lip. So many thoughts are running through my head: When she bites her lips and looks at me like that, I wanna be more than a friend. 

Does she feel the same? does she want me back? I wanna be more than her friend...

“You think so?”

“Well… yeah, I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever m-”

She cuts me off with a kiss, a small one, but still, I am so shocked, I just stare at her for a minute, trying to register what just happened. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Now it’s me who cuts her off with a kiss. She tangles her hand in my hair, laughing, as I pull her closer to me by her waist. When we finally break apart, she smiles. 

“Wanna be my Girlfriend?” 

“I have never wanted anything more in my life than the amount of how much I want that. ” I reply, smiling harder than I have in a long time. She kisses me, and God, I feel whole again. 

Word Count: 916

[haletwfic]

New Life

Derek Hale x Reader

Inspired from Teen Wolf Movie Teaser Trailer.

This is just for fun. My grammar is very bad bcs english is not my language.

-

Everything went great right after you graduated from high school. You applied job at local restaurant, Stiles became an FBI agent, Scott worked full time at Deaton’s animal clinic, Lydia went to college alongside with Malia. Derek? He moved to New York before you graduated. Actually the last time you saw him when you all at Mexico. He left with Braeden and leave you without a goodbye.

Oh, you still lived with Noah, Stiles’ father. You felt you owe him everything right after your parents death, he took care of you and let you live with him and Stiles. And you working instead of went to college so you could gave him some money as a gratitude for everything he did for you.

Everything hasn’t the same. You barely hang out with Scott, almost lost contact with everyone, but still manage to call your cousin to check him out. And it’s been three years.

You closed the restaurant because it’s already 9 PM. You walked out and you found Scott stood beside his motorcycle.

“YN!” He looked so happy when he saw you. He approached you and wanted to hug you. You smiled and hugged him immediately.

You pulled the hug. “How’s Deaton?”

He frowned. “I came far away from clinic just to get to you and that was your first question?”

You laughed and so did he. “I know you’re doing good. How’s your parents doing?”

He smirked. “Felt so different having my dad living in my mom’s but I’m happy they’re back together again. What about you and Noah?”

You sighed. “He’s getting old you know. He’s missing Stiles so bad. And that’s why i still live there so he wouldn’t be lonely. At least his nephew got some spark on that house.” “You got something to say to me? Because I’m going home and I’m bringing my car.” You glanced at your car.

“Oh about that…,” he looked so nervous. “Derek is back to town.” He paused. “He still live on that loft, in case you want to know. Alright, see ya YNN!” He left you, and you walked to your car. Damn. Derek is in Beacon Hills?

You immediately drove your car to the haunted building that Derek lived in. You didn’t know why you wanted to get there. What if he lived there with Braeden? You might look fooled if you saw both of them. But you didn’t care. You just want to make sure that Scott wasn’t messing with you. You need to see Derek so bad.

You arrived at his door. Very heavy sliding door. You knocked it softly and he must have known you’re here since he could sense you.

He opened it and kinda startled when he saw you. “YN?” He stood there and made eye contact with you for like a minute. “Come in.” He finally let you in. You notice his loft much brighter than before. And smell fresh like he put some perfume. And also you hadn’t seen any sign of Braeden here.

“How are you?” You asked him a very basic question. Of course you didn’t want asked him about him and Braeden. Stop thinking about her.

“I’m good, what about you?” He asked and gave you the sweetest smile.

You rolled your eyes. “3 years you have been away from Beacon Hill and now you’re back and asking me how am i doing?” You didn’t answer his question and hugged him. “Are you married with Braeden?” That question just came out from your stupid mouth.

Derek laughed. “It’s not funny.” You said it with a flat face. “Because the last time i saw you, you ran away with her.”

“I’m not… married to anyone.” You sighed in relieved.

When you and him were silenced, there was a sound of someone crying. “Who is that? Is there a someone here? Are you watching a movie with someone and there’s a scene?”

Derek didn’t answer and run upstair immediately and you followed him. You shocked when you saw him hold a toddler. “Am i seeing you with a kid or it just a doll?”

He came approached you. “This is Eli, my son.” Your eyes widened when he mention ‘son’ word. “Not with Braeden. I had a girlfriend, Delena, but she died on childbirth.” He definitely could read your mind. But your heart kinda break when he mention he had a girlfriend. “You know where i could find a babysitter?”

You punched his arm. “You just back to your hometown just to asked me where to find a babysitter?” And then you both laughed.

[spikedhe4rt]

idk if you write angst i just saw ur requests are open but if you do write angst how ab Darry x a reader who dies due to a soc i am on my knees i need to feel something

Darry x Reader. Tw: Death, Murder, Violence, Hurt/No comfort

It was a cold Saturday night in Tulsa and I was at the walking to the lot to sleep since my parents kicked me out for the fifth time this month. I had a boyfriend, Darry but I didn’t want to bug him at 3am. I hadn’t told him my parents were abusive since he already had so much to worry about.

I stayed in motels and sometimes at bucks when i had money but I usually don’t because of my shitty job at the dingo. I arrived at the lot and found a “good” spot to sleep on for the night. I was getting as we comfortable as I could when I saw blue mustang pull up in the lot. What do they want? I began to try to hide but I was grabbed and shoved down to the ground. It was bob, the guy with the rings that beat up Johnny before. “Let me go! Stop!” I yelled as loud as I could but no one could hear me. “Shut it greaser!” Bob replied through gritted teeth.

He began to kick and punch me over and over again to the pint I was coughing up blood. He then punched me square in the nose with defining crack. It was definitely broken. I felt myself go in and out of consciousness. I don’t know where I found the power but I kicked as hard as I could nailing bob in the face. The other socs let go of me to help him up so I grabbed my blade from the back pocket. I stood up feeling weak as I held up my blade to defend myself. Bob began to charge at me so I used all of the strength I had left to stab him in the leg. He fell back in pain and I felt relief.

I was proud of myself, Darry always said that my blade would help me in situations like these. Even though I felt weak, I walked over to bob on the ground and nailed him right in the nose. I looked at him with tears in my eyes with a light smirk. I won! I did it! or so I thought. I was standing over him when I felt a strong pain in my side, I looked down to find a blade in my side. The other socs. The blood started to seep into my shirt making a huge stain. I doubled over in pain and collapsed.

“DARRY!, HELP SOMEONE PLEASE” I yelled, voice cracking in the process. I couldn’t get up or move at all I could do was yell for him, someone, ANYONE. I started to lose conciseness and I couldn’t feel my gash anymore. I knew this was it, the end. I spent my last breaths starting at the night sky starting to brighten with sunlight or so I thought.

Darrys POV:

I woke up to the sound of my alarm. I decided to get up early to cook even though It was my day off since the gang was coming over. I went into the kitchen to make some eggs, pancakes, and bacon. Everyone’s favorite especially Y/n’s. Shes usually here at his time already but she probably had something to do first.

After I finished, the gang started to pour in to come eat. Once we finished eating, Two-bit turned on Mickey in the living room so we soon sat down to watch. I decided to sit on recliner and read the paper instead. Y/n still hadn’t arrived and I wasn’t the only person who noticed because Dallas soon said “Wheres y/n this morning?” Everyone shrugged. “I have no idea. Have you seen her lately?” Pony asked Dallas in reply. “No I haven’t since she stayed with me couple days ago” We looked at him in shock.

I decided to say something. “Why was she staying with you Dallas?” I asked with high suspicions. “Her parents kicked her out for the fourth time this month, you didn’t know?” I was shocked, she would’ve told me if that was true, wouldn’t she? “What?!” I yelled out in worry. “I thought you all knew that?” Dallas asked confused. “Obviously not Dal” Johnny said shyly. “We should go check on her” Soda suggested. We all sat up to leave. I guess I looked very worried because two-bit and Steve came up to give me back pat and say “Were sure she fine Dar” I gave them a nod and put on my jacket. We then all head out the door.

We decided to walk to her house since we all couldn’t fit in my truck. We were all walking past the lot when pony tripped on something. “You ok little bud?” I asked helping him up. Steve looked down to see what he tripped on, his eyes widened when he saw what it was. “Is that y/n’s hat” he asked sounding scared out of his mind. I let out a shaky breath, feeling the deja vu of what happened the day we found Johnny in the same predicament. We were all scared to turn around, fearing that we’ll see the lump a body like how Johnny was. “Yea it’s hers” Dallas replied to him. I started to look around frantically looking for her, hoping to not find her on the ground. I stopped when I saw her passed out near a abandoned car in the lot.

We began to run to her, I thought that she was just beat up like Johnny but I was wrong. When we got to her, she was worst than Johnny. She was covered in bruises and blood. I dropped down to my knees in tears. Pony saw her and began to become sick. “Y/N!? Y/N!?” I said shaking her but she didn’t budge.

I picked her up and saw that she had a huge cut in her side, shirt covered in blood. I began to cry even harder not caring about the others saw me. “Y/n baby c’mon, this isn’t funny, wake up baby please” I said voice cracking the process. “Darry I think shes gone, we need to call someone” soda said sadly. I ignored him and continued to try to help her. “C’mon , Y/n please don’t die on me. I need you, I LOVE YOU!” I said knowing that she couldn’t hear me.

It was over, she was gone. FOREVER. I never got to tell her I loved her, that I wanted to marry her, that I wanted to have kids with her. I felt like my whole had ended. I felt like I failed her because I couldn’t protect her from her killers. I cried and cried to the point I felt weak. It was all my fault, I killed the love on my life. [END]

I hope this met or exceeded your expectations. I hope you enjoyed. Im always open for requests, including angst, fluff, and smut. :)

[xxiamtiebrousxx]

Hi! Uuuh I've been reading your stories for a while now and I was wondering if I could request a platonic TF2 mercenaries with a Gopnik S/O? A gopnik is basically a young and spunky Russian hoodlum, they're like scout except russian so they're annoying in some ways but still kind and quirky, if the mercs are tired or annoyed S/O usually brings something of a "Peace Offering" or well something small like a cool rock or maybe a bag of food just so the mercs don't get mad at them, S/O is chill out of battle and become friends with the mercenaries up until the mercs ask about their family lofe which suddenly S/O turns cold nd very hostile, they'll snap at the mercs until the topic is changed, its as if the very mention of fmily triggers them

One day after a long while of knowing the mercs or when S/O is drunk they spill their childhood, they had to live through poverty with their family in russia with their parents and baby sister but one day when trying to escape the country they are sent to a gulag, spending a couple of years there until they're 13 when their father gets killed during a revolt S/O, their mum and baby sister escape to the U.S, but both their mother and sister end up dying during the trip so S/O is the only one to make it to the states, their story his the mercenaries in the feels but it hits Heavy the hardest, seeing this spunky, funny and tough Gopnik cry while telling their story

You can ignore this if its to angsty I just got this idea a few minutes ago so I was wondering if you could do it

This was a little hard to write but enjoyable!

Mercs x Gopnik! Reader

A/n: Sorry if it seems I'm stereotyping, I'm not. I did a little bit of research on the internet. If there's anything incorrect, please let me know so I can correct it! WARNING: A bit angsty

Scout:

Scout found you wrestling with someone in an alley. He stopped to watch. You beat them down and took back the bread you had stolen. Scout stopped you. You cursed at him in Russian, kicked both his shins and ran away. The following day, Scout was waiting for you in the alley. You were careful to approach him. You didn’t know who he was and you didn’t trust him either. What if he was here to steal something from you or worse? You were ready to snatch his wallet away from him and run for the hills when all of a sudden, Scout pulled out some money.

“Go buy you some lunch,” he said. He stuffed the dollar bills in your hand and left. After that, you kept coming back. On some days, Scout wouldn’t be there. You thought you did something wrong, like insulting his hair or something. Probably you joke around too much about him being fatherless and he got hurt, emotionally. You didn’t like talking much about family since yours was gone. On your way to the base, you found a sparkling rock and took it. You found out he was merc long ago, but you didn’t mind. Scout was surprised you managed to find him. He rambled about your arrival, a bit annoyed about this. To shut him up about coming onto a dangerous battlefield, you gave him the rock. The plan actually worked and he shut up.

Since Scout agreed to create an allowance for you, you spent the money on paying bills and booze. He’d come over to check on you. You were rambling in Russian about something. Scout chuckled. “Enough booze for you,” he said. You smacked his hand away.

“Nyet,” you answered. “I need more.” You gulped down the last drops and wiped your mouth. “Scout, have I ever told you about how my father used liquor to clean our wounds since we couldn’t afford medical alcohol?” Now this was strange. You never, and Scout knew you never, talked about your family. During your time living in Russia, you had a baby sister, mother and father. You were poor and couldn’t afford much. Your father was part of a revolution that failed. You and your family ended up getting thrown into a gulag. Scout held your hand as you started to cry.

“We don’t have to continue, you know,” he said. You shook your head. You had to finish the story. When you were thirteen years old, your father got killed in another revolt. You managed to escape with your mother and sister. Your destination was the US, but they never made it. As a punk, you sure cried hard. Scout hugged you all night until you calmed down. He never left your side.

Soldier:

Soldier was minding his business when he heard you arguing with the baker. He was just here to pick up some bread. Soldier was not about to walk into a fight. He would join in it if it got physical, but he wouldn’t walk in on it. You slammed the entrance door and gave the baker an unkind word in Russian. Soldier didn’t think much about what just happened, but he noticed your hand reach for his back pocket. He felt a small tug and you ran off with his wallet. Soldier was furious. Engineer tried to calm him down but he was so bent on revenge, he managed to find you. His intentions changed when he saw the conditions you were living in. To help out with the rent, Soldier moved in. It took some persuasion, but you let it happen.As revenge though, you annoyed Soldier as much as you could.

“Ugh, who covered the toilet seat in mayo?!?” Soldier exclaimed. He came out of the bathroom.

“Eto byl ne ya (It wasn’t me),” you replied. Soldier fumed with anger and marched into his room, slamming the door. You did cover the toilet in mayo. You knocked on Soldier’s door after five hours of waiting for him to come out.

“Go away!” he yelled.

“I brought bread and a bucket,” you answered. It was a peace offering to make up for the mayo. The door opened. Soldier’s hand reached out for the bread and bucket, which you gave him. He calmed down. Yes, you were annoying, but you were also caring. Even if you got drunk a lot. He took care of you. Especially when you got emotional. You never liked talking about your family. Today was different. You started bawling and filling the room with tears.

“Hey, what’s wrong, cupcake?” he asked.

“I just miss my sem'ya (family) so much,” you cried. You dove into your story. Your family couldn’t afford anything. You lived in the dumps, but got by. There was hope you were going to make it to a new life. You helped save up to leave but you and your family got thrown into a gulag. It was hard. You used to be happy and cheerful once, but the gulag changed you. Your father joined some men who were planning to escape. During the revolt, he died, but you escaped with your mother and sister. They didn’t make it far though. Halfway during the trip, they succumbed to their sicknesses. You had to make it to the US alone. “And that’s why I don’t open up,” you said through tears. Soldier patted your back.

“Don’t worry my little comrade, I won’t let anyone take you away,” he said, hugging you.

Pyro:

You were trying to outrun some gangsters that were chasing you. You owed them some money you never paid back. You jumped over the fence that surrounded the base and landed on Pyro. You begged him desperately not to be burned. He scared away the gangsters and offered you a place to stay in case they came back. It was an offer you wished you could’ve denied but was forced to take. Pyro was very gentle and caring with you. You tried to scare him off with your annoying self but it didn’t work. Trying to scare him off with some cool tricks, like blowing fire out of your mouth using a match and vodka, didn’t scare him off. Pyro was amazed by that trick.

“B'yus' ob zaklad, ya drakon v drugoy zhizni (I bet I’m a dragon in another life),” you said. Pyro nodded his head. “Vhat do you think, podzhigatel (firebug)?” Pyro was a fun fella to talk to. He took interest in everything you said or brought him, like a geode you found lying around on the battlefield. He enjoyed it when you brought him flammable things. One thing he would constantly ask was about your family. You told him to shut up about it. You were mean about it. Pyro knew you were holding something back. You found you passed out on the couch, a bottle of scrumpy in hand.

“Mmph (Y/n drinks)?” Pyro took the bottle out of your hand. You mumbled something, turning to the other side.

“Pochemu ty dolzhen byl uyti (Why did you have to go)?” you asked. “Mama? Papa?” Now this was interesting. Was this the secret you refused to tell Pyro? He sat down next to you. You told your whole story as you slept. Your father used to be wealthy until he lost it all. He struggled to make ends meet. You tried your best to keep everything moving on. You were thrown into a gulag for crimes against the government. Your family soon followed. For years you suffered there, blaming yourself for everything. Your father didn’t like how you beat yourself up about that and led an unsuccessful revolt. He granted you, your mother and baby sister’s escape. You made it to the Americas. Not your first choice, but it was good. Until they got sick. It was hard to take care of your mother and sister. You turned to the mafia for money and help. You tried to get medical attention for them, but it didn’t work out. Your mother and sister died. And you owed money. If it wasn’t for Pyro, you would’ve been killed.

“Mmmph mmph,” he mumbled. Pyro stood up from the couch and gave you a kiss on your forehead. When you woke up, you found the same geode Pyro had given you on the coffee table with a note that read, “Stay strong.”

Demo:

You both met at the bar. Demoman was just walking in when you kicked some drunk to the otherside of the room. You had started a bar fight and got away. Demo followed you through the back door. It was just a distraction to get free booze without getting caught. To keep Demo silent, you gave him half your earnings. You hoped to never see Demoman again after that, but he kept coming back. It got annoying. He would always ask for an equal share. You were selfish, you didn’t want to share. At first, you stood up on a crate and raised some bottles over your head. Demo, half drunk, couldn’t reach for the bottles. But you’d always give him his share and run away.

“Bye, you one-eyed korol’ (king)!” you would always yell. Heavy taught Demo the meaning behind his nickname. He’d always wonder why’d you call him king.

“Heya.”

“Privet (hello).” You and Demoman quickly became friends over the course of two months. He’d ramble about his mom back in Scotland, which angered you. You always asked him to shut up about his family. One night at the bar, Demo had to carry you home. You had him come over once or twice in the past and this happened several times. He knew what to do. “Mama…” you groaned. This was strange. You never mentioned or called out for your parents. People eyed Demo. You were crying now. He didn’t want to seem suspicious, so he made the trip back home quick.

“Wake up Y/n,” he said. Your eyes fluttered open. They were red from crying. “What’s wrong?” Demo asked.

“It’s uh, nothing,” you replied.

“C’mon lad, you can tell me.” You sighed.

“They uh, they’ve been dead for a long time.” You told Demo what happened. Your parents used to be rich until they lost it all. You used to be a weak child who got sick all the time. It got worse when you and your family were thrown into a gulag. It was hard there. You were constantly sick. Your father knew you wouldn’t survive. He, alongside your mother, managed to pull an elaborate plan and escaped. You were thirteen when you and thousands escaped. Your mother and father were shot by guards and never made it out. It was just you and your little sister. This time, you weren’t the one sick. She was struck with terrible sickness. She could’ve made it to America, but she didn’t. She passed away before you arrived at New Mexico’s border. Now you were here being comforted by Demoman. He was a good friend.

Heavy:

Heavy knew immediately what your situation was. You were caught sneaking around on the base’s premises. You were a good fighter. You struggled your way out before Heavy came in and gave you a big squeeze that finally defeated you. He was a good hugger. Heavy promised to look after you and make sure you didn’t get into more trouble. You tried to escape several times with no hope. You even touched Sasha! This got annoying quickly. Heavy was stressed out more than usual. You felt bad. This man was working hard to make sure you had a somewhat perfect life. You decided to make it up to Heavy.

“Vot, ya poluchil eto dlya vas (Here, I got this for you),” you said, holding out your hand. In your hand was a small package. Heavy took the gift from your hand. Inside the package was a small glowing orb. You stole it from Merasmus and got away safely. The orb could grant anyone protection.

“Spasbio (thank you), Y/n,” Heavy replied. You smirked.

“I hate spheres,” you said. “Vhy do they even exist? There’s no point.” Heavy laughed at your joke. You were funny when you weren’t annoying Heavy. You were actually good at repairing weapons. You were now allowed to touch any of Heavy’s guns to fix them.

There were times when Heavy would write to his family. You would get very hostile, sometimes you were just angry. Heavy had a hunch you had some reason behind your drop-of-a-hat anger. One day, Heavy caught you crying. It was just after he finished sending mail to his family. He sat down on the bed next to you and patted your back. He noticed a photo in your hand.

“Mozhete li vy skazat' mne, chto sluchilos' (Can you tell me what’s wrong)?” he asked.

“No, I don’t want to tell you,” you replied. Heavy sighed.

“Let me guess, was it a gulag that took them?” he asked. You looked away. “Y/n, Otvet' mne (answer me).”

“It vas,” you answered quietly. Your father was a thief. It wasn’t his fault though. He needed to steal to provide for his family. He was trying to escape the country, but got caught and as punishment, you and your family were thrown into a gulag. You worked many nights and days. You were only a child. Your sister was born there without knowing what the real world was like. Your father blamed himself for your misfortunes. Several men in the gulag planned a revolt. He was killed in the battle. You escaped with your mother and sister. You were only thirteen and you were fourteen when your remaining family died. You had to make it to America alone.

Heavy was crying when you finished your story. He knew what it was like to lose someone. He knew what it was like to suffer there. Heavy hugged you. He would never allow someone to hurt you again.

Engineer:

Engineer wasn’t expecting to get his wallet stolen while shopping at the hardware store. You had gone in, seeing Engy had a wad of money stuck in his pocket. He wasn’t paying attention. You kept your distance and pretended to look at stuff. Engineer didn’t notice you in time when you stole his wallet. A punk like you wouldn’t get away with it. Engineer spent days trying to find you. He found you arguing with a group of people. You flipped them off and cursed in Russian. You were injured from a fight you previously had before arguing with the gang.

“Hey partner,” Engineer said. You stopped in your tracks, rolling your eyes.

“Vhat do you want?” you asked, turning around. “U menya net vremeni, tak chto sdelay eto bystro (I don’t have time so make it quick).”

“Can Ah get my money back?” he asked. You laughed, wiping a tear. 

“Oh, leetle man, I already used it,” you answered. “But, if you want, I can get it back for you.” And indeed you did. After two weeks, you got Engineer back his money. You had made a profit shining shoes and snatching loose change off your customers. Engineer was quite surprised. He thought you were just going to run off and never return. “Schastliv, inzhener (Happy, engineer)?” You began to bring Engineer things. You’d sneak onto the battlefield to give him screws he could use or paintings you put on his sentries.

“So, do you have any family?” This was a question that made you punch a dispenser hard.

“Don’t ask that again,” you growled. Engineer was taken aback. You were usually chill and goofy, not hostile. He was curious though. Why did the mention of family anger you? He kept asking and asking and asking, until one day you finally snapped. “Otlichno! Ty khochesh' znat'? Nu, ugadayte chto! Moya sem'ya mertva (Fine! You want to know? Well, guess what! My family is dead)!”  you yelled. Tears streamed down your cheeks. Engineer had poked the beehive. The Texan gave you a hug as you cried into his shoulder. You wailed about how you lived your entire life poor. Your parents worked hard to escape. Patrol guards caught you leaving and threw you into a gulag. Your parents tried to break you out but they got thrown into the gulag as well. You worked hard, devising a plan to escape, but never actually put it in motion. Your father found the plans and put it into motion. He escaped with you, but died due to his wounds. Your mother made sure you and your sister were on the boat out of there. You kept in touch with her, but your mother soon passed away from sickness. You and your sister lived in New Mexico for a while. There was a shooting though and your sister was killed. You were alone, until you met Engineer. He patted your back and dried your tears.

“There, there, honeybee,” he said in a calming voice. “Ain’t no one gonna hurt ya anymore.”

Medic:

“Otpusti menya, sumasshedshiy doktor (Let me go, you insane doctor)!” Medic carried your screaming self over his shoulder. He had caught you stealing medicine from his cabinet and selling it on the streets as drugs. He was very angry. You never thought you would get caught, but now the entire team watched as you kicked your arms and legs while being carried to the medbay. Medic decided to take you on as an apprentice so you could make up for how much medicine you stole. You didn’t like it one bit. You were dragged along to battles. 

“Watch and learn,” Medic would always say. While he went off to harvest organs, you went off to search for cool stuff. You “found” some delicious baked goods and brought it back to Medic as a snack. He appreciated this. Unfortunately, you got caught stealing the food and you were almost thrown in jail. You cracked your knuckles, rolled up your sleeves, and learned how to bake. Medic enjoyed eating your treats.

“Baking is a whisky business,” you said with a smile. You always cracked jokes about your baking (or Medic’s medical license) that had him laughing loudly all the time. All boozed up, you were funnier. But even boozed up, you told secrets you never wanted to tell anyone. Medic would never mention the word “family.” The first time he said it, you freaked out. He dared to never mention or ask about your family ever again, until one particular night. Medic was returning late from a last minute mission. You were drinking a little too much that night.

“Guten abend (Good evening), Y/n,” he said, closing the medbay door. He had finished telling Scout good night.

“Znayete, vy kak odna bol'shaya sem'ya (You know, you are like one big family),” you slurred. “You’re lucky.”

“Vhat do jou mean?” Tears started welling up in your eyes.

“I-I used to have family too,” you said. You were crying out an ocean now. Medic rushed over and started patting your back.

“Calm down Y/n,” he said. “Vhat happened?” You explained you used to live in a gulag. Your mother had to take care of your sickly father. He wasn’t working and your mother couldn’t get a job. The family couldn’t pay off debts and so you were forced to work in a gulag. You were thirteen when your father and mother worked together to bust the family out. Your father was the distraction while your mother took you and your sister out of the country. Your father was killed in the action. Your mother was wounded, so was your sister. They never left the country. You were on your own. Medic handed you a tissue. “Don’t cry,” he whispered softly. He wiped your tears. “Jou have me now, I won’t let anything happen to Jou, I swear.”

Sniper:

Sniper went into town to get some takeout for the team. They were getting ravenous for food. You were lying in an alley, wounded. You had previously fought a gang that owed you money. You lost the fight, but at least you got your money back. Sniper was walking back when he noticed you on the ground. Your stomach was rumbling loudly, that’s the first thing he noticed. You were wiggling your limp body to the trash can, hoping you could lift yourself up from there. Sniper approached you. You looked up at the hunter and frowned.

“Chto vam nuzhno (what do you need)?” you asked.

“Need help?” Sniper asked. You shook your head. Your stomach roared again. “Seems you’re hungry, mate.” You noticed the food in his hand.

“Give me a fry, will you?” you asked. Sniper grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to your feet. You ate everyone’s food on the way back to the base. From there, Medic tended to your wounds. Sniper returned you back home. He never thought you’d find out where he worked and visit him. He was scouting the area with his scope when he found you roaming around, a lunch box in hand. He waved you up to his nest. You apparently brought Sniper homemade food to make up for the dinner he gave you. You came every afternoon with food. Sometimes it was takeout or leftovers from the previous meals. In your lunch box were words scratched into it. It read “Priyatnogo obeda. Lyubite mamu i papu (Have a delightful lunch. Love mama and papa).” Sniper asked you about the writing. You got angry and threw the lunch box at the wall. It was damaged a bit. Sniper had it repaired for you.

“Hey, mate, it’s me,” he said. It took two weeks to get it fixed and now he was returning it to you. You opened the door and hunched against the doorway.

“Vhat?” you asked. You looked at the lunch box in Sniper’s hand. “Come in.” There were bottles of beer littered everywhere. You were drunk. “Oh hey, you have Mama and Papa.” You took the lunch box out of Sniper’s hand. You started sniffing. “I haven’t seen them in forever…” You started to cry. “It’s been so long,” you sobbed. Sniper awkwardly hugged you.

“Do you need to talk?” he asked. He didn’t know how to deal with these kinds of situations. You started wailing about your life. It didn’t seem like it, but you grew up poor as a child. You were happy, with your family. Life seemed perfect. But then you and your family were placed in a gulag. You had to work to pay off your debts. You tried to make the best of it. There was a revolt planned by other workers. Your father didn’t want anything to do with it. You used the attack to your advantage. Your father made sure your mother, sister, and you escaped. That was the last time you saw him. Your mother carried you and your sister to freedom. She didn’t make the trip. Your sister died just as you arrived in America. You never wanted to go back. Sniper sighed. “We don’t need to talk about this if you want,” he said. You wiped a tear. A heavy burden was lifted off your shoulders.

“Na samom dele, ya by khotel, chtoby vy pozvolili mne pogovorit' o nikh. Ya budu chuvstvovat' sebya luchshe (Actually, I'd like it if you let me talk about them. I'll feel better about it),” you replied. Sniper smiled and nodded.

Spy:

He was not going to deal with another punk. Scout was hard enough to deal with. You were yelling at Spy and cursing in Russian. He had bumped into you and didn’t say sorry. It was annoying. He just walked away. Unfortunately, he found you again wrestling with some other punk. Spy decided to ignore this. You were losing the battle though. You were yelling for help. Spy sighed and turned around. He stabbed the other punk and dragged him into an alley. 

“Pft, I didn’t need your help,” you said, standing up.

“Whatever,” he replied, walking away. After that, Spy made it his duty to watch over you. You knew he was there. You constantly yelled at him to leave you alone. He wouldn’t leave. Eventually, you started bringing Spy stuff you found on the streets. You found simple things, like marbles, old shoe laces, loose change (that you probably stole, Spy assumed), free gift cards (again, that you probably stole), and free, abandoned furniture! You brought it in and built forts with it. Spy proved to be an expert builder at forts. You two were like father and child. It brought back memories (and regrets). But you started to shut out Spy. He wondered why.

He found you drunk, roaming around the streets after returning home from work. This wasn’t a shocker to him. You were usually drunk. Drunker than Demoman. It worried the Spy sometimes. He didn’t mind carrying you home. “Come Y/n, you need to be home,” he said. You snatched your hand away from Spy’s grip.

“Nyet (no),” you slurred. You pointed a shaky finger at him. “You’re not my father and you never will be. My father is (Father’s name)!” you exclaimed. You started to cry. “On umer! On umer, spasaya menya (He’s dead! He died saving me).” Your father used to be a wealthy man, but he gave it all up for your mother. Your family wasn’t rich and that was okay. You didn’t see why the men dragged you away to that cold desolate place they called a gulag. Why did you have to work? Why did you have to suffer? Your father was working a small job so why did this happen? You were thirteen when you escaped with your mother and sister. You didn’t know what your father had planned out. All you remember was running away. But your sister and mother didn’t make it far before they got shot down. You were told to keep running. You never looked back. You knew you would never see your family again. Spy understood why you were ignoring him. You didn’t want to get hurt again. And he was going to make sure you weren’t going to get hurt ever again.

[random118x]

Yandere platonic squid game

Will only upload the first chapter here and the rest will be on ao3, link is here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/34450882/chapters/85737661

Summary: 9 year old Hyun Joo unfortunately found out about the squid game and what’s worse is that everyone loves the little kid, wanting to protect her and make her their daughter.

Maybe she shouldn’t have picked up the phone card from the floor and let her curiosity get the best of her.

What is she supposed to do now?

Chapter one:

You would think a little kid like me wouldn’t be in this situation right now. I was currently in this office staring at the big screen, watching.

One by one, people were dropping down like flies and what I thought was innocent turned out to be deadly. These people were not unconscious but dead, blood oozing out.

I shouldn’t be here, I needed to escape before that man in the black mask would come and get me. I will need to start from the beginning on how I got into this situation.

I was currently at the train station waiting for my train to come. I needed to get home because the others was waiting for me. Let me introduce myself, I’m Hyun Joo and I am 9 years old and I live in a children’s home.

I was in there when I was 4 because both my parents sadly died in a car crash and some miracle I survived it.

Now I’m not complaining that the children’s home is a bad place, I actually get along with everyone. The downside is that no one wants to adopt me because, well I don’t have a reason. I don’t actually know.

I have friends here and this new boy called Kang Cheol is one of them and he’s from North Korea. He’s only been here for a couple of days and I learnt that he has an older sister.

I really didn’t ask for more because when he mentions about her, he gets sad.

I got up from my seat and checked time as I had 20 minutes yet so I decided to get a snack.

When I came back I saw two men playing some sort of game and all of a sudden the guy in the suit slapped the man.

I got scared and hid behind the snack machine watching.

After a few slaps, the man finally won and when the man in the suit opened the briefcase, there was money.

He gave a few notes out and this card to the man and when the man in the suit went, I noticed he dropped some money off the floor.

I could have stole that but I thought not, this could be shady stuff. I may be nearly 10 and still a kid but I wasn’t going to get my butt kicked.

I ran past the other man, picked up the money and rushed towards the man in the suit.

“Excuse me, you dropped this” I shouted.

The man stopped and turned around and gave me a smile.

“Thank you child, if I lost that my boss would have been very angry at me”.

He got his briefcase out and put the money back inside but what the stupid man didn’t realise that a little card went on the floor.

“Until next time” and with that the man in the suit walked away and I didn’t really get why he said that because I don’t think I’ll ever see him again.

I picked the card from the floor and looked at it, it had shape symbols and a number at the back.

What did this mean?

[phantomenby]

Fuhgeddaboudit

ninjettey asked:

Jewelry. The Lost Boys stumble across a Mafia hit(person) GN, who is vacationing in Santa Carla where they wouldn’t be recognized. Mafia person has several rings on both hands, and is wearing expensive clothes. The Boys and this person spent the night talking about their lives.. Paul and Marko couldn’t help themselves and quoted The Godfather once they learned about the Mafia.

I hope this was ok love thank u for requestin <3

Many interesting characters passed through Santa Carla, both good and bad. The boys had seen all sorts of folk in their time there, people travelling from every part of the world, every profession, every type of runaway, every young kid who hated their parents. It was the only thing that made their immortal existence interesting.

Unfortunately with new people came some unsavoury characters and recently crime rates had been spiking with more people going missing, more money stolen and more cars hijacked. Max brought it up to the boys when he found Thorn had been knocked out cold while he was asleep, the last thing they needed was hunters so his boys would be responsible for dealing with them.

It wasn't easy tracking your scent, there were so many mixing in with the town's stench and the sea breeze. At one point they had just decided to ride around town until they came across something suspicious, when they realised the loud roar of their motorbikes was warning who they were searching for they quickly gave up and took to the skies.

After a month of hunting and of Max breathing down their neck they finally found who they were looking for. Spotting the lone figure on the beach burning a body on a bonfire in front of them. As they descended back to the ground they analysed your form.

You weren't dressed like a hunter, lacking in the usual leather and camo they liked to clothe themselves in. The suit you wore was a dusty purple with pants to match, it fit like it was made for you and you alone, most likely tailored to suit your form. Your sharp brown shoes were Italian, quite pricy but you always swore by them, nothing like the best leather to coat in the blood of your enemies. Under the jacket you wore a simple white shirt, it was dotted with specks of blood and you planned on throwing it into the fire before taking a dip in the sea to cool off.

The sand crunched beneath their feet as they landed behind you, boxing you in against the ocean.

Sighing you turned, not appreciating being ambushed like this. Four lads stood before you all dressed like punks with their own unique styles. You stood level with the one in the colourful cropped coat, while the other three stood an inch or so above you.

"Can I help you, boys?"

"Who are you" the icy blonde one went straight to the point, it was a common question and one you always answered differently, no one needed to know who you were. Especially not the local riff-raff in your little hideaway town.

When you first came to Santa Carla it was meant to be a vacation, according to your friend Frank and the boss of your gang back home you worked too much. Always complaining about how you shouldn't burn yourself out otherwise beating idiots who bothered you up would just stop being fun.

But you being you couldn't just do that, so you took up a few hits, some small kills and robberies, the occasional grand theft auto. It was nothing compared to dealing with rivals in the big city. You were smart though and no one should have noticed you, even the crime rates weren't that different compared to the previous thirty years - and yes you made sure to check before you came here.

Yet now you were stood in front of trouble, four punks between you and that tiramisu your neighbour gave you after you convinced her ex to stop bothering her. On paper, it looked like he just left town, but his corpse swinging at the bottom of the bay proved otherwise.

"Who wants to know?" They bristled, the leader growing annoyed as you avoided his question.

"We do"

"Oh yeah? And who are you?" You didn't care, they would be dealt with by the end of the night. You could take 'em.

"Tell us"

"Nahhh"

Pulling out a cigar from your pocket and lighting it up, placing the familiar stick between your lips as you puffed. The tall blonde was watching you, looking something like a Twisted Sister as he stared at your hands, twitching his own like an addict needing another hit.

Paul was only thinking of your rings, yeah the kill would be fun but holy shit did they look cool. His own fingers were always adorned with trophies from his many kills, but they were always cheap, only one had a real stone in it. But yours, they were real, he could see the way they caught the light, pure silver and gold and jewels he could never afford.

"What have you got to hide huh?"

"What have you got to hide"

"Stop that"

"Stop what?"

David growled, eyes flashing, he had been growing more and more annoyed by the day since they had been set to hunt you out. He didn't give a shit about Max but when it got in the way of his own fun he liked to get it over and done with. Now here you were, looking at him with a stupid smug grin and he knew he had never wanted to kill someone more.

"So, why'd you kill him?"

You hummed turning to look at the fire, "Oh. Someone asked me to"

"What."

"What do ya mean 'what', I just told you"

You had killed a human, they could tell from the smell of the guy as his body melted into ash. Hunters didn't kill humans so either you weren't a hunter or you were just a different kind.

"Why," he sighed, clenching his fists, Marko was smiling now as he chewed the thumb of his glove. Good thing someone is enjoying this, "why would you kill a human?"

"A human- what else would I kill a bovine?! Jeez kid are you thick or somethin', you don' just walk up to someone and ask them why they killed someone."

"Well I am and I would like to know why you would kill a human if you're a hunter-"

"Hunter? Son, I have been called many things, but hunter-" sighing you squeezed the bridge of your nose between your thumb and index finger, chanting the mantra of tiramisu then sleep-tiramisu then sleep-tiramisu then sleep, "is not one of them. Listen, kid, I'll do you a favour, get lost and keep quiet and then I won't deal with you just like this guy becoming as charred as a smore beside me. Kapeesh?"

-

Honestly, it could have gone worse. After going back and forth with the one you now knew as David the four of them had relaxed a bit, finding the banter entertaining. Your heavy accent made your words sound funny and all it took was the little curly blonde boy to make a mafia comment before they finally realised what you were. They were more intrigued than anything, mafia folk like you tended to stay in the East, plus you knew alot of cool tricks that the blond devil twins were eager to learn.

Now you were all around another bonfire further down the beach, still smoking your cigar with the occasional hit of a blunt that was being passed between the four of you. It was the most chilled out you had been since this vacation had begun, and the entertainment from the boys was more than enough to keep you goin'.

"I'm gonna make him an offer he can't refuse" their accents were dreadful, the South Californian twang making them sound like surfers who had hit their heads too hard more than the gangsters of the East.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold."

You had learnt a lot about them, about where they were from and what they did, though you suspected their was something darker they hid behind those boyish smiles. Something inhuman. But many didn't consider people like you human so you didn't care enough to dwell on it. Dwayne had asked you about the theatre and broadway in New York where you spent a good bit of time entertaining clientelle. He was a romantic at heart and told you all the good spots to read a book at, conveniently they were also good places to burn a body since they were so secluded.

"Never let anyone know what you are thinking." Ok so Dwayne's accent wasn't as bad, at least he was talking more since you got to know each other.

David had talked to you about your work since he was satisfied that you weren't here to kill him and his brothers, now he just had to figure out how to deal with Max. He appreciated you even more when you offered to kill their sire will complete seriousness. In turn he told you all about the hidden rules of Santa Carla, the best hiding spots, which cops were dirty - though it was pretty much all of them - and of course the best places to eat.

"So what's it like?"

You turned to Marko as he spoke up, quirking a brow in question.

"The mafia- what's it like?"

"Oh. Well its nice like a family you choose, for most of us anyways I know some of 'em just stumbled upon somethin' they shouldnt 'ave an' now they're stuck there," it wasn't like there was harm in telling them, no one had followed you here and the boys seem smart enough to keep their traps shut.

While there were a few things you had to keep hidden you didn't mind telling them about your own experiences, you were young for even a human, but to them it was like sitting in front of the fire while their gramps told them about the battles of the past. You had experienced a lot, joining when you were in your teens after you started working at one of the local convenience stores in your neighbourhood. All it took was for you to give one of the old boss's kids some free snacks and an offer of friendship before they decided that you were untouchable. Something about the importance of manners and loyalty.

By the time you were graduating high school you had done a couple of jobs, nothing too serious, but you were strong and smart and they saw that as an asset. There were a few times you had almost lost yourself, one of those had happened a little over two months ago, you still had the scar on your abdomen to prove it.

It was only when the blondes started asking about each tiny scar that littered your body did the issue come up.

"So...who shot you?"

Taking one last puff of your cigar you flicked the end of it into the fire, glancing down at the boys who were grinning up at you.

"Fuhgeddaboudit."

[straliaharker]

Little fictlet for Day 2

Steve is currently balancing a sleeping toddler on his hip as he carries a plate corn the the grill. Billy is playing grill master today, having to pull rank on Hopper by reminding him that it’s his house. Hopper backs down and takes the beer Billy offers, heading over to stand by Joyce as she sets the large table in the back yard. Half of the party is in Steve’s pool, the other half is jumping on the trampoline. Summer was coming to an end, in a couple of  weeks the kids would have to pack up and head back to their respective colleges. While the party had gotten together quite a bit, the whole group hadn’t really spent time together. The adults all had jobs and it had been rought to really coordinate something on short notice. Steve had been looking forward to the party all summer, wanting his family together for one day. Billy smiled at him as Steve set the plate down.

“Hey, give Munson his rugrat back, you need to finish getting the sides ready.”

“I know, he’s just so cute, all sleepy and cuddly,” Steve made a pouty face at Billy.

“Go get the food ready, brat.” Billy shook his head with a smile as Steve walked off.

Steve walked over to Eddie and Chrissy, handing their little one over. Chrissy smiled brightly and thanked Steve for getting him to sleep. Eddie took him and rocked him back to sleep as the movement had the little guy stirring. Everyone knew how much Steve wanted his own kids, plus he’d already proven himself to be a good babysitter, so Eddie and Chrissy utilized his talents at least once a week and often during gatherings. He headed back toward the house, stopping to check the smoker Billy had recently purchased, he had a brisket going and it looked to be almost done. 

Steve had been a little surprised by how domestic Billy actually was, but it was understandable. He’d lived in on the outskirts of his own family for so long, never really belong in his father’s eyes. Once he’d got out of Neil’s house he’d gone all in making a home for  himself, and Steve was happy to have been included in it. His own parents had moved, deciding that Steve could take care of himself. They’d been shocked when Steve put on offer on the house, seemingly forgetting he was a trust fund kid. They also weren’t aware of the hush money. And Steve managed to pull one over on them, talking their realtor down to half of the asking price by reminding him that he lived there, he knew all the things that happened in that house. 

Billy had originally insisted on pitching in, but Steve wouldn’t have it. Instead he agreed to let redecorate. Billy got rid of the uncomfortable couches and chairs, he cleared our Mr. Harrington’s office, not before living out his fantasy of riding Steve in the office chair and spreading Steve out on the desk. They sold a lot of the fancy furniture and Steve let Billy put that money back into things for the house. Billy had turned the office into a home gym, and they’d taken over the master bedroom, and finally got rid of the hideous plaid in Steve’s room. 

The house was full of mismatched furniture, things Billy found that felt comfortable. By the time Billy was done the place felt warm, all sterility gone. Steve liked that he could move about the house, didn’t have to worry about expensive art or damaging the leather or italian silk. Billy’s stuff was strewn about the house, it finally looked lived in. Billy had started cooking, dragging Steve to the kitchen to help. They’d spent any days off they had together trying new foods, making meals for the week and just enjoying each other’s company. Billy would hug him, give him kisses and no longer looked nervous. They had made a home. The kids would stop by when they were still here and there was an open Sunday dinner invitation, that still stood. Sometimes it was Hopper and Joyce, sometimes Eddie and Chrissy, every so often Nancy and Jonathan would come. It felt good to have something nice, after everything they’d all been through.

Steve was looking out the sliding door, watching as Eddie chased his son around the yard. Chrissy smiling at her family. Joyce and Hopper were sitting at table, sharing a beer. He liked his life, the darkness finally far away, there had been no incidents in the last few years, Will and Billy had stopped feeling uneasy, El was calm. This was the peace they all deserved. He thought about the cake hiding in the pantry, he was excited. He couldn’t wait for everyone’s reactions, he knew they’d be happy. He and Billy’s adoption application had gone through and in six months time, they were gonna have their own little one running around. His family was finally going to be complete.

[4dtk]

jaehyun as a bf

anon: “your writing brings me butterflies i love it you are so underrated!!!!! would love to request a jaehyun bf headcanons (like the one you did of mark <3)” thank you for the kind words anon <333 hope you enjoy this one!

(a bit of a plug lol but check out NCT 127's ideal r/s headcanons in this post!! i appreciate you checking it out! <3)

brief mentions of sex, but nothing explicitly nsfw!

likes to talk about music with you

especially jazz. there’s a plethora of songs out there with different renditions and sometimes he likes to ramble about who’s rendition he likes best

would play the piano for you if you asked, just maybe not after schedules or something. but usually when you’re free or alone together in the room, he likes you to sit beside him to listen to him play

you guys like to play a little game where he’ll play the chords and you play like a random note to create blobs of music

even if you don’t know how, the way the session always dissolves into giggles is his favourite thing in the world

if you know how to play the piano that’s great too!! jaehyun just likes the unexpected notes that come out since there’s no set melody in his mind

jaehyun needs to have some part of his body on yours at all times. like he has to hold your hand all the time, or a finger hooked around your backpack, or an arm around your waist.

at least when you’re together he does it very often and he’s just. obsessed with you lmfao

it’s also the reason he buys a promise ring when he’s sure of you as a significant other so you always have a part of him with you (his love)

would buy you those lockets for you to put pictures inside. he doesn’t care where you wear it though, around your neck, wrist, ankle, as long as the locket is on your person

he clings onto you like crazy in the mornings. jaehyun’s a heavy sleeper and likes to hug you on his side, so you’re always having trouble trying to pry him off of you in the morning

a bit nsfw: he likes morning lazy sex lol, ngl. jaehyun adores the rawness of your relationship in the morning and the sleepiness in your eyes when you’re gently pushing him away. he knows you don’t mean it but he makes sure you really want it first

loves the sunlight kissing your skin and the slow, gentle movements

so so intimate, he prefers it to the rougher forms of sex, but sometimes he doesn’t have that luxury since they leave for schedules quite often in the wee hours of dawn

for cuddling sense, jaehyun likes it when you’re under his arm and cuddled into his side. classic position but he dies every time inside when you look up at him and there’s this clueless look you have. has the biggest smile on his face after and you have to repeat the stuff you said bc he’s too distracted by how your eyes shine

second hot favourite (more of when you’re making out) is when you’re straddling him. nothing sexual, just like you on top of him when you’re kissing and stuff. he digs it when you’re pulling away for oxygen and he has to lift his body to reach for your lips again

gets flustered from kissing, but doesn’t show it. if he’s found a way to suppress the crazy crimson on his ears (which i doubt) then he will but his words will always contradict his expression

jaehyun can say “are you nervous, y/n?” with a smirk but his ears keep giving him away!!!!

mfer’s hands are shaking too when he trails it over your body. in disbelief you’re his.

sometimes shamelessly moans into the kiss LOL, not too loud but he whines when you pull away, and has to kiss you breathless again

when you kiss him, expect like a long-lasting kiss. doesn’t mind small pecks and stuff but he’ll want to savour your lips a little longer than a mere peck

jaehyun likes your neck too. when you’re hugging his face is always in your neck, placing small little butterfly kisses

you need to look out for him, always. mans always tripping over something at some point. it’s become more frequent now that he has you and my god he’s so unable to keep his eyes off of you that he trips over simple things. he once tripped over nothing

on the daily when he’s not tripping over you, he’s clumsy in a sense where he drops food on the table. he once struggled to tie up his growing hair into a mini ponytail bc it was just too little hair. the hair tie slipped from his fingers and shot itself into your face - those kinds of small small mishaps

it’s endearing but sometimes you can’t help but laugh at him

likes to take you out on impromptu dates. dates that are close by and easy to plan (?) i guess.

not saying jaehyun is a lazy boyfriend but he likes the more candid dates where you decide what to do as you go along. of course if it’s a big day like your anniversary or birthdays then he’d want to plan something out.

other than that, he just either lets you choose the places to go there or you two decide along the way. he doesn’t want to impose options for you and pressure you. if he’s being honest, he wouldn’t know where to go either lol so he just follows wherever you bring him

laughs so much when he’s with you. giggles, deep laugh, whatever you name it. your relationship is very light-hearted and he finds that he’s the one laughing more when you deliver jokes even tho he wants to make you laugh too

i can’t lie… his jokes can be dry sometimes i’m sorry jaehyun 😭 so he backs it up with laughter and has to catch his breath sometimes bc he finds it really funny

you’re not laughing at the joke, rather at his laugh so you might have to tell him that some way or another bc he’ll just keep making bad jokes i’m sorry y’all

he can’t handle the suuuuuper cheesy physically affectionate films or series (with shitty plot) but i feel like if the story’s interesting enough he’ll pay attention. likes bittersweet films too, i feel, gets him thinking

doesn’t mind cliched plots (fake dating / idealist girl meets realist boy / idk any others lol) but would propose something at the end that he thinks will make the movie/series more interesting

jaehyun likes to share his theories with you

unironically wants to learn the la la land tap dance scene with you. he ALWAYS hums city of stars too, no matter what. idk why but it sticks to him, in bed, in breakfast, when he’s doing something random

he did it once on the radio and he received a text from you in break that told him he was humming along to the song

with that said, jaehyun wants to try out the stuff in the rain quite a bit. making out, dancing, lying down, running, he likes that fascination that society has with doing things in the rain

doesn’t like it too much that he’ll get soaked, but as long as you’re with him and willing to do it, he’s all for it

jaehyun would def want kids in the future. wants to dote on them and buy them stuff and whatnot. wants to see them running around the house with laughter while you both struggle to contain the bursts of excitement they have

doesn’t care for the dynamic much. if he’s the one to stay at home to take care of them while you work, he can work with it. if it’s the other way round, he’s okay too

he just worries that if he’s still involved with the entertainment industry, you might have to take a back seat since he’ll be the one earning the money, and he doesn’t want babysitters either.

heart is so so full when he comes back home and you’re just playing with the kids, or singing them to sleep. any sight of you with him is enough to make him melt into a puddle

HAS to hold them even if they’re asleep. wants to always have them close to him while he nudges you to shower or get the food ready.

like jaehyun, he would wanna meet someone in a vinyl shop or bookstore. he knows it’s cliched but the thought of meeting someone when you’re buying something is exciting. anything unexpected for him, he welcomes it

the next few are just random, miscellaneous headcanons: he likes to see you in his clothes, preferably with nothing underneath. just his shirt lol. cheeky man

jaehyun likes it when you shower together (again, nothing sexual, just likes the domesticity)

likes it when you fall asleep on him

will never stop gushing about you to his parents, first time you met them they’re like “he’s told us so much about you!” and he really did

feels comfortable in your presence, no makeup, messy hair, no need for a perfect bod. he’s just jaehyun. jung yuno if you will

adores it when you call him “lover” i mean boyfriend is good, significant other is good, but lover is just chef’s kiss

it is a bit cheesy if you think about it, so it’s not often that you say it. when you do say it in songs when you’re singing it to him, he can’t stop smiling

plays lover, you should’ve come over when he’s on tour bc it’s the closest thing he can get to a replica of how he feels for you

and when jaehyun falls asleep to the song, all he can remember is your honey voice singing it to him. he’ll just have to hold onto it before he can see you again

<3

[cinewhore]

Worth Every Dime

I’ve been reading a lot about the “Dollar Princess” and this story came to me and hasn’t left me alone since. 

A little history lesson: dollar princesses were American new money heiresses in the late 19th century who married normally broke nobility from Britain to receive a higher title while the men got a large chunk of change.

Authors note: starting to do more original things as I felt that fanfic was pushing me to create in a sort of box I did not wish to be in. Yes, there may be some grammar issues but surely they can be overlooked? It feels nice to write something for me again without the strain of all that comes with sharing your creations. Enjoy it or not. In the words of a great scientist: “I didn’t make him for you!”

Audrey Everett was a handful and she was very aware of that fact. It shown in every aspect of her life, from the elegant outfits she wore to the people she occupied herself with. She enjoyed that no one in particular could manage to rein her in. Her parents, however, found it repulsive.

“You mustn’t act so brash.” Her mother would scold after yet another suitor denounced their pursuits for her hand. “You’ll besmirch our name.”

What’s in a name?

Well, for the Everett’s, it was oil. Lots of it.

James Everett knew how to play his hand right and make risks that even the other professionals in his line of work wouldn’t dream of.*Lucky bastard*, they would whisper behind their glasses during a social gathering. How did he get it all? The money, the house, the wife, the picture perfect family?

The American dream.

It’s yours, too, if you could afford it.

While it was enough for James, his wife proved different and she made sure to remind him of his shortcomings every chance she got.

“Our daughter will never marry and be seen as some sort of spinster. Or worse, incompetent! Barren!” Margaret would hiss at him.

Margaret knew both of those things to be untrue for she had hired the best tutors for Audrey and saw to it that her daughter remained pure after she was caught with the boy from the other side of town.

No, Margaret wanted more. She needed more.

The ad in the paper came to her seemingly out of thin air. All her prayers had been answered.

The plan was simple. A title in exchange for a hand in marriage. There were hundreds of British men searching for their American sweetheart and Margaret was going to ride this train all the way to the bank.

“No.” Audrey would later exhale, glaring down her mother from across the table.

“Do not backtalk me. A bunch of other girls have done the same thing and look where it gets them! A noble title, high status, an estate with servants at every corner. You’ll be treated like a princess.”

Audrey steels herself, perfectly sculpted eyebrow raising. “I know what it gets, mother. A piss poor excuse of a man and a cold home.”

Margaret gestures to Ann, pointing to the table. Ann scurries over quickly, clearing the tea cups and half eaten sandwiches while keeping her head down. Margaret is careful as she gets up from her seat, pacing toward Audrey.

“Do you wish to end up alone? Without someone there to take care of you? Do you not want me to be a grandmother?”

“If my children are to be raised by you then I suppose I’m doing them a favor by never having any.”

The slap was expected.

“You better learn to fix that attitude and mouth of yours because this is happening, your choice or not.”

Audrey took one look at her future husband and one thing was certain: she was going to eat him alive.

                            ---------------------------------------------

Matilda checked her bags, assuring that everything was in tact. Nothing was amiss as she didn’t have much to her name but it never hurt to be certain.

Fool, she thought. You need to stop acting childish and return home. Shaking her head, Matilda clutches her belongings tightly, looking over her ticket stub. Her trembling fingers rub circles over the material, wearing it down with each passing touch.

The ticket salesmen looked her over twice before handing her the ticket, asking if she needed another. There was no way an unchaperoned woman such as herself was making the trip on her own.

She muttered her thanks, briskly walking off to avoid another form of questioning. Should anyone else ask, Matilda answered them by saying her husband was awaiting her arrival and this proved to be a sufficient answer for most.

The horns from the ship sounded and a startled Matilda jumps onto her feet. The quicker she got aboard, the faster she could get to her new life and leave this messy one behind.

The mixture of foreign languages caressed Matilda’s ears and made her giddy for the world she was preparing to enter. Sure, New York was a melting pot but London was rising from the ashes and she wanted so desperately to belong.

Matilda was lucky that she was able to afford a second class ticket, indulging in the small luxuries it brought her. She was careful not to stray about too much as there were strict rules about where she could and couldn’t be, a natural conformist. It would only be day three of her journey where she would break this rule, scrambling to get to the top deck for fresh air.

The regret and realization began to settle and it reached its lanky hand up Matilda’s throat, helping her empty her stomach and ruined her sleep.

She gasped for air as if it had been stolen from her, hands gripping the railing with loose might. The inky sky stretched on for miles and this is when Matilda knew that there was no turning back.

Sharp whispers break her brief panic and Matilda makes herself smaller as she observes a man and a woman some feet away from her, in a heated conversation. She had half a mind to speak up but the cat had her tongue and was refusing to let go.

From the shadows, Matilda gazes intently as the man grabs the woman by her shoulders, forcing his mouth onto hers. The woman stops in her tracks and it makes Matilda reel backward, afraid that she would be labeled a peeping tom for being present for such an intimate moment.

Before she could sneak away, the jingles of the lady’s jewels adorning her dress causes her to halt.

“..may have my hand but you’ll never have my body or my heart.” The woman spits, struggling in the mans hold.

“If you think I married you for your body then you are sadly mistaken. Do not think for a second that I am without affections but if you wish to keep the title I gave you, you must learn when to be a good girl and take it.”

The irate man makes another advance on the woman but she calculates this and takes a swift step to her left, his foot getting tangled in the bottom of her dress.

Matilda to this day couldn’t accurately recount what she saw as the truth or a figment of her selfish imagination but either way, with a tiny slip, or perhaps it was a push, he went over the railing.

Audrey’s chest heaved as she heard the splash from below, making a careful effort not to look. What she did not see, she couldn’t lie about.

Matilda remained frozen in her position, assessing what to do next. Should she call for help? There had to be some sort of  night patrol. She stopped the thought before it could fully form, not understanding the gravity of the situation laid out before her. There had to be more to this story.

In the span of a week, Audrey Everett had become a bride and a widow.

Gathering her wits and the retched gown she swore to burn after tonight, Audrey begins her descent back to her suite when she stops. The hairs along the back of her neck stand on edge, legs wobbling as she turns her torso. Out of the corner of her eye, nestled beneath a small light, was a figure.

With bated breath, Audrey regards the lady with slight terror and awe. Goosebumps from along her arms, mouth left agape. Their gaze locks, remaining in tact for what felt like an eternity. The rest simply faded into obscurity.

This is the story of how they fell in love.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

LO$ER=?, m | jjk

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

summary: Life is just a path and you walk it. Until Jeon Jungkook. He made you run, sprinting through winding side roads and alleys, fighting, bleeding, losing. Your paths split, but life is made of orbits. Now that they have overlapped once more, his hand is fiercely holding yours and he won't let go again. Nothing matters if he's with you. Thus, you run once more, laughing like you've gone mad.

continuation of 0X1=?, m | jjk – click here to read

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; mentions of sexual assault (not heavily described, however, please note reader is the victim of said assault); actually predominantly fluff; mentions of previous angst; mentions of physical fighting; smut (fem reader, fingering, cowgirl, scratching / marking, penetrative sex); non-idol!BTS - tattooed, previously rich!Jungkook x rebellious!reader (mostly reader's POV, a tiny bit of JK's POV), ft cameo of Kim Taehyung as JK’s best friend and crossover with 'bao, t/m | myg' au

yes, I waited until the TXT's 'LO$ER=LO♡ER' was released to write this XD there's a ton of TXT references as well, enjoy!

--

now playing – LO$ER=LO♡ER by txt

"Jeon Jungkook! Yah! Jeon Jungkook! Come out of that whore's home!"

You were about to remove the groceries from your front seat, but then you stopped at the shouting, peering up at the second story of the apartment complex to see… ah, yes, a young woman yelling at your front doorstep. One look at the imported, Western, black car with heavily tinted windows and you were well aware that the woman in a matching designer two-piece – a ruffled pink suit jacket and flared skirt – complete with immaculately pulled back hair in a half-ponytail must be...

She turned around, fuming, pretty features twisted in rage, and screamed in frustration.

You quickly jerked your head back out of her line of sight and clicked your tongue.

Your boyfriend's ex-fiancé had some lungs on her.

You waited until she finished shrieking like a banshee and peered out to see her spin on her heel and return to pounding on your apartment door with her small, manicured fists. You spotted her beige, black cap-toed slender heels.

Chanel.

Huh.

You stayed in your car.

Reached over to your bag and pulled out the single ice cream you bought to share with Jungkook but, at this rate, you would have to buy another. You pulled off the cap and folded it in half, curving it like a spoon, and began to eat the mango sorbet. Hm, well, it was better this way. Jungkook would probably prefer chocolate or straight up diabetes over mango sorbet.

He would eat pretty much anything though.

You scooped up some of the frigid, melting sweet into your mouth and watched his ex-fiancé shout at no one.

True, you could go up there and throw her down the stairs. But there was something hilarious about this, her beating and howling at your apartment door, completely ignoring the fact that no one was answering it and that she was very clearly causing a public disturbance, all because of her own personal problem.

You glanced up to watch her slide down the door, openly crying now. You pressed the button of your car window to roll it down a crack to listen to her sobbing above you.

"–can't believe you would do this to me... you know I need this marriage... my family's company depends on it..."

You slowed, licking off your makeshift spoon.

"I'll be left with nothing... nothing unless I get married..."

Crocodile tears or not, the woes of the rich did not earn much sympathy with you.

You rolled your window back up, leaving your car on idle for the air conditioning.

It was a mix of previously being constantly berated by Jungkook's wealthy parents that now exiled him over a fucking eyebrow piercing and being a member of the working, lower middle class. For some reason, that latter fact was also offensive to Jungkook’s parents. Everyone was accepting until money got involved. You hummed, eating another scoop. You didn’t like it, but you understood that his parents wouldn’t believe that you have no interest in their money. What you didn't understand was why his ex-fiancé was so hellbent on yelling at your door. From what you could tell, she wasn't ugly. Couldn't she find someone else?

You scraped the last of your small ice cream out and ate it up.

You checked your phone.

Jungkook wouldn't be out of work for at least another three hours. You had found him a job at the local bao shop through your own job as an accountant. You assisted the family in sorting the finances for their small business and personal tax forms. The owner had back surgery and so the daughter had been working there by herself with one other employee that delivered the orders. They wanted to hire another to help with cooking and cleaning, perhaps even open up the front counter again to accept pick-up orders instead of only delivery. However, it was hard to find someone trustworthy and reliable. The best way was through word of mouth.

They won't mind my tattoos?

Whenever I drop by, the delivery guy is wearing a leather jacket, ripped jeans, and has a resting bitch face. You'll be fine. Also, I think the daughter and him are dating.

Jungkook had blinked at you.

You know. In case they disappear for ten minutes, unexplained.

You loved Jungkook's laugh.

He didn't complain or whine for some other job. He only asked when he started and how to get there. You bought him a secondhand bicycle and he was off to work, five to six days a week. Sometimes you would drop him off with your car if was too rainy. Occasionally, when he had to stay late for a large order, the delivery guy would drive Jungkook and his bike back home.

That's how it was here, in the world of everyone else, minus the rich.

The fuck is all this?

Manager gave me a bunch of leftovers. She said I'm a fast learner. Did you know Taehyung stops by there? He's never said shit! He said it was his little secret, that ass–

You smiled as you remembered Jungkook's animated face and annoyance at his best friend for not sharing what he thought was crucial information. Jungkook would speak excitedly, hauling a bag of buns and spilling them over your clean kitchen counter, scrambling to catch them as he explained the different ones to you and how they were made, telling you all the things he was learning and funny stories about customers.

You almost forgot this Jungkook.

It was strange, feeling something after such a long time of feeling nothing, strange to find your time occupied once again by him, when at many times you vowed not to get involved with Jungkook anymore, only for him to show up and make you throw your promises to yourself to the wind, recklessly chasing the anger, wondering, hating, loathing how much you still loved him after he left, recalling him standing there, stone silent as his parents' verbal lashes ripped you to shreds.

You turned the car off, pulling the keys out and pocketing them, not wanting to the drain the battery.

Maybe.

Maybe you were stupid for loving him so much.

Maybe you were as pathetic as the woman up there in some ways.

Then again.

Maybe that was just how everyone lived.

You heard a soft tap by your car window.

You jerked your head to see Jeon Jungkook, in the flesh, peering at you through the glass, clutching his bike. You could see half of his head, short black hair and large, curious brown eyes, nose pressed up to the bottom of your car window. He was wearing his work clothes, light wash jeans and an aqua blue t-shirt, lightly dusted in flour. He pointed up and you noticed his ex-fiancé had switched back to yelling at the door, no longer facing the street.

You shooed him back and opened the car door, eyes wide.

"Why are you home?" you whispered, crouching down to speak to him.

He grabbed your hand, gasping as he gripped it. You shivered at the coldness of his fingers, but there was a warmth in between your and his frozen palms, melting each other.

"Oh, shit, your hand is so cold!"

"So is yours!"

"I was biking! My hands get cold from the wind. What's your excuse?"

You held up the empty mango sorbet container in your other hand, shifting your eyes guiltily.

"And you didn't share?!" Jungkook hissed, his windswept hair giving him a fierce appearance, dismay clear in his glistening dark brown orbs despite trying to sound angry.

You spied his other hand on his bike. There was a large, wrapped bandage on his left forearm. You ticked your chin towards it, furrowing your brows. "What happened?"

"Ack, I burned myself and manager-nim told me to go home early. I told her I could still work, but there were only a few hours left and it seemed like she wanted to be alone with Yoongi-hyung..."

You raised your eyebrows.

"What are they gonna do, bonk in the kitchen?"

"You wouldn't want to bonk me in the kitchen?"

You grinned at him and Jungkook grinned back, eyebrow piercing flashing in the sun.

"JEON JUNGKOOK!"

"Oh shit–"

You scrambled out of your car, locking it, slamming the door as the young woman wailed his name and pointed at you and him, furiously wiping her tears.

"You bitch! How dare you take him from me! He was mine! I had him wrapped around my finger!" She hiked up her skirt and swiftly power-walked to the stairs, looking back to yell more at you as Jungkook placed his bicycle down. "He would do anything for me!"

You raised your eyebrows, again.

Jungkook yanked on your t-shirt sleeve, ushering you to get on the bike with him.

"Doesn't seem like it!" you called back casually, chucking your trash at her, causing the empty ice cream container to smack her in the shoulder and roll across the sidewalk.

"You–"

You cackled and got on the bike, hooking your arms around Jungkook's shoulders and adjusting your feet as she stomped up to you two, conventionally attractive features contorted in rage.

"He was my dog!"

Your eye twitched.

"You were gonna marry a freak who was into bestiality? No wonder you left," you remarked, patting him on the chest as Jungkook burst out laughing, loud and rich, shaking his head.

"You can't do this to me, Jungkook! You can't leave me with that other guy!"

You felt it.

Pause.

You felt Jungkook stiffen under your hands and you turned yourself, hearing the helpless plea in her voice now, throwing herself to the ground, designer knees in common dirt, anguish on her face, tears streaming down her made-up cheeks, sniffling hard, and, with your breath lodged in your throat, you realized she was restraining her pained sobs, so trained in maintaining appearances that it seemed like she couldn’t even cry properly in front of others.

"You can't... you know how they are... I can't marry him, you saw what kind of man he is... that's the whole reason I tried to find another husband..."

There was no more anger in her voice, only fear and dread, and you didn't understand, and yet you could for some reason, for some reason you could see it as if it was tangible, the realness in her enigmatic words. Jungkook's hands tightened on the handlebars of the bicycle, his knuckles turning white, tense shoulders under your arms, and for a second, a moment, an instant...

You thought he might go back.

"You should run."

The crying woman on the ground lifted her head, hiccupping, cheeks blotchy pink, still somehow beautiful.

"W-What?"

Jungkook turned his head and looked down at her. "You should run away, like I did. Find someone who actually loves you. Getting married to me will only make both of us miserable, even if it saves you from that other guy."

She looked from you to him, and you recognized that look in her eyes, jealousy and envy, but not directed at you. It was directed at the warmth between the coldness of his hands and yours, directed at the orbits of his and yours finally overlapping, meeting in the vastness of space once more, his zero and your zero becoming one, not you, but his ability to throw everything away, his wealth, his comfort, the world he knew, all for a feeling she had yet to feel.

"What... what if I can't?" she asked weakly. "What if I can't find what you have?"

Jungkook lifted his foot off the asphalt and placed it on the pedal. He raised his head, and you found his eyes on yours for a brief moment before casting them back down to his ex-fiancé.

"Then keep running. It's better than being married to him, right?"

He began to turn the handles, about to pedal away.

She screamed after him, words choked with agony.

"Love won't solve our problems, Jungkook!"

You held on tight, chest to his back, fingers clutching in Jungkook's shirt, nose in his hair, his warmth under your cold hands.

"It won't!" he yelled over his shoulder, gaining speed with a grin. "But it sure as hell makes the problems worth shouldering!"

-

“Hey! Get back here!”

You snickered and chucked the plastic bag into the basket connected to the bicycle, jumping on quickly, pedaling away as Jungkook ran after you at top speed, breathless and laughing, his black hair flying back, aqua shirt molding to his muscular chest, long legs sprinting after you and the bike, your grinning face looking back periodically to catch his smile, going not too fast, but still fast enough so he couldn’t quite catch up. Golden hour brought out the tan on his skin and his high cheekbones, both of you tearing out of the gas station at high speed, drawing stares and shaking heads, but neither of you noticed or cared, his booming voice calling your name and you sticking your tongue out at him childishly.

“Watch out!”

You jerked aside and sped past a group of five young men with skateboards, two with shorter black hair, one with long black hair and white highlights, one with ash gray hair, and one platinum blond, all very tall, but you didn’t have time to stop and stare at the impressive height of them, turning into a side alley towards to the creek nearby, avoiding pedestrians, Jungkook following close behind until you got to your destination, grabbing the plastic bag in the basket and throwing the bike down, cackling as Jungkook snatched you from the air, his heart racing against your back as you kicked the air, him still somehow effortlessly carrying you despite sprinting so hard, panting into your hair.

“Get off!”

But instead of letting you go, Jungkook held on tighter, fierce kisses into your neck, wiping his sweat all over you and making you cringe amidst your laughter. It was already late, the sun dipping into the horizon, slowly taking its warmth with it. Water trickled meekly down the creek, barely coating the rock bottom due to the hot summer.

“Stop, stop, the ice cream is melting,” you finally gasped out, shoving Jungkook aside, wiping your neck with the back of your hand, pretending to be disgusted, but Jungkook just grinned and seized your cheeks, pressing his lips against yours.

“I love you,” he breathed.

“Ack, I love you too, fuck, get off–”

-

You two sat on the swings of the empty playground, watching the sun disappear, eating ice cream with the lids of the containers. As predicted, Jungkook got the chocolate that seemed to have everything in it but the kitchen sink. You, on the other hand, got red bean this time.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

He looked up from his ice cream, shoving a large lidful into his mouth.

It was strange how beautiful he looked, even with his black hair sticking up every which way, his cheeks filled with the frozen sweet, the faint rays of sunlight catching the silver of his jewelry – eyebrow piercing, earrings, silver chain around his neck with the compass star pendant – all paired with his oversized aqua blue t-shirt and baggy jeans, still with bits of flour on his thighs from work.

“What did that man do to her?”

A darkness clouded his features even though he tried to hide it from you with a neutral expression.

“Ah… He just… Just wasn’t really the kind of guy who thought of women as people,” Jungkook finally got out, looking away from you. “You know, the kind of guy you really hate.”

“That’s you,” you joked.

“I know I can’t do anything,” Jungkook continued, ignoring your quip and you suddenly regretted it, seeing the way he lowered his hands, exhaling slowly. “I am not responsible for anyone else’s behavior but my own.”

Come crawling back to me on your knees when she reaffirms to you that I'll be the best fuck you'll ever have.

She'll never make you feel as good as I can make you feel.

Enjoy your piranha.

“I’m sorry.”

Jungkook looked up at your sudden declaration.

“I’m sorry,” you repeated, coughing awkwardly. “I’m sorry for saying the things I said about her.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “Don’t be. Just because she was in a shit situation doesn’t excuse her for being a shit person.” He shoved the lid into the empty ice cream container and rubbed the back of his neck, pushing his hair back with a sigh. “Just like how it doesn’t excuse me from being a shit person for what I did to you.”

His eyes shifted away.

“You don’t have to–”

“Yeah, I do,” he muttered, cutting you off. “I’m a fucking loser.”

The streetlights began to turn on, but no one was in a place like this, two adults in a place for kids, stuck wondering what adulthood was supposed to feel like because it still felt like an endless cycle of forever learning and forever running, wandering to find out what the finish line meant.

“I wasted time you can’t get back and I will spend the rest of my life chasing the time I wasted.”

Jungkook sucked in a shuddering breath, hand falling from his hair, rueful smile on his face.

“I can only hope you can put up with me for so long.”

You blinked slowly.

He turned his head, brown eyes finding yours, those irises catching the streetlights like how his jewelry had caught the sun, proving that Jeon Jungkook was, indeed, already adorned with nature’s very own jewelry.

You scooped out the last of your red bean ice cream and ate it, looking away from him.

“Sounds like forever,” you remarked, feeling the chilled sweet cool your heated cheeks, swallowing slowly, savoring the way the cold warmed you in its own way.

“Hm?”

“Sounds like I’m stuck with you forever then,” you said, turning back to him with a smirk. “Kinda sucks.”

He smirked back, cocking an eyebrow. “Yeah. Major suck. Speaking of my dick–”

“Oh, shut up.”

But you said it with a smile and he knew you didn’t mean it.

-

“Why the fuck do you have that?”

“It’s from work. Gimmie your arm.”

“Why?”

You extended your arm, frowning, stopping under the streetlight, one hand on the bike as Jungkook held the black permanent marker with his right hand. He used two fingers to uncap it and tucked the lid neatly into his palm, spinning the marker with the adjacent two fingers to readjust it so that he could write on your arm.

“Do you wanna get a tattoo with me?”

“Of what?”

You looked down to him scribbling on your skin, his own black tattoos standing out, covering his entire right arm and up to his shoulder. You wondered if he would end up tattooing his back and maybe his other arm – but, then again, he kind of needed money to have pay for such large pieces.

“Couples tattoo.”

You looked down when he drew back, grinning, reading the word upside down.

LO♡ER

You raised an eyebrow.

“You want to get ‘lover’ tattooed?” you asked, skeptical, turning your arm this way and that, unsure if you liked the placement on your forearm, near your wrist. “You don’t have any space on your right arm anyway.”

“That’s why I would get it on my left.”

And he curved his wrist to write on the bandage on his left forearm, messily writing on top of it.

LO$ER

Now you raised both eyebrows.

“You want to get… ‘loser’ tattooed onto your body?” you snorted disbelievingly.

Jungkook grinned, recapping the black marker with one hand, tapping the dollar sign on the bandage with the marker lid. “Doesn’t it describe me? ‘Cause I had money, and now I don’t.” He pointed to the heart on your skin. “You love me. I love you. A lover with a dollar sign is a loser, right?”

Laughter and skateboards sped past, five blurs of black along the street, spinning around the parked cars, people yelling after them to stop being so reckless, but you were too busy staring at Jungkook to notice the ruckus, too busy staring at that smile and those brown orbs lit up by streetlights.

“Are you stupid?”

Jungkook’s grin widened, mole underneath clearly visible. “Yeah, kind of. Stupidly in love with you.”

You both instantly pretended to gag, trying to mask your smiles, you shoving him and him shoving back, playful and laughing like mad, falling into him, dropping the bike with a loud clang, swept up in his arms and his kiss, your hands hooking behind his neck, love you, love you, love you, not sure about this whole tattoo idea, but, hell, maybe, just maybe if he annoyed you enough about it.

-

Shit, the groceries...

Are they still good?

The green onions look kind of wilted, but so do you and you're still good... I think.

Shut up.

You didn't need him, but being without him was like being frozen in time.

Not that you had any big dreams or aspirations anyone could be envious about. It always been like that, casually cruising through life, existing for the sake of existing, no real reason needed. It just was, and there was no reason to stop, so you kept going. The path was there, so you kept walking.

But, then.

Jeon Jungkook.

Jungkook made you run.

It's not washing off.

Tragic.

Easy for you to say, you wrote yours on your bandage, 'loser'.

So terrible that you have 'lover' written in you by your lover - hey, pfft, stop! Put the showerhead down!

It was truly by chance to meet him, a moment of terror and then he was there, yelling, get off her, don't fucking touch her, and you didn't understand, didn't understand why some random guy would suddenly intervene between an interaction of two strangers, how could he sense your discomfort and fear, and now he was throwing fists, brawling with not one but three guys, friends of the one who slipped his phone and his hands under your skirt, the stranger smashing the phone with venomous rage, fighting in a dress shirt, slacks, leather loafers, and expensive-looking rings, giving you a chance to escape.

A winner at life.

Not like you, you who let something happen because you froze up in that second, disbelieving that such a thing could happen to you, a nobody, a loser.

He kicked one of them in the knee, growling, a howl followed by the sharp crack during the fight.

You could turn and escape.

Or?

You heard sirens.

You grabbed your protector's flying fist and clenched into it tightly, panicking.

Run!

This was before the tattoos.

This was before the pain.

This was before the piercing.

Jeon Jungkook had whipped his head around at the foreign touch, in this mess because he had witnessed something disgusting and because he simply wanted to fight, just wanted to beat someone up, wanted to cause real pain to someone because he couldn't control his own life, wanted to fight something.

Needed to fight.

A hand around his hand.

Run!

Never once had Jungkook thought about escape.

Not until he saw that face, fear and panic and rage and determination, stunningly beautiful, hand around his hand, not letting go, pulling, sirens screaming in the distance, his legs already moving, following, running, running, running, into the sea of the unknown.

Sinking into it.

Lungs screaming, clumsily flying through alleys, on wings of adrenaline, running after the girl in the white hoodie and red plaid skirt holding his hand, falling, falling, falling, skidding across the concrete, her arms around his, her head buried into his chest, his hands around her head to protect it, hitting a dumpster with a pained wheeze.

The sirens sped past.

He was holding her and she was holding him.

It was chance.

Just chance.

His hands were scraped up, bleeding from the trip and tumble, her white hoodie dirtied and ripped from the fall, scrapes on her legs and knees.

I'm sorry...

It was ridiculous chance.

Just ridiculous.

You clung to this stranger and laughed, laughed like a maniac, laughed like you had gone mad, crying into his dirty navy dress shirt, thank you, thank you, thank you, not knowing you were holding the one who would make you run, not knowing who or how affluent he was, now knowing of how it felt to hold his hand and kiss his lips and hear his laugh, not knowing how you would introduce him to a friend who was a tattoo artist and start his interest in them, not knowing you would sit by him for long hours and watch the art grow on his skin...

Holding him, crying, thank you, thank you, thank you for saving me, leaning against a dumpster as the stranger hugged you tightly, I got you, it's okay, don't cry, don't cry, don’t cry please, rubbing your back.

Not knowing.

Not knowing he would make you zero, not knowing you would be standing there, time and time again, verbally beaten by his own parents as he looked away, unable to fight.

And you would escape.

You would run.

He would come back.

An endless cycle until you broke it.

Then he started the endless cycle again, broken as it was, his whispers to your cheeks, I love you, cheeks that were dried of tears because you were cried out and left with a mechanical heart, I love you, heart to heartless because of wasted time, I love you, time wasted but you still loved him, no matter what you did.

Did that make you pathetic?

Did that make you stupid?

Did that make you the loser?

I love you.

Why did it matter?

Even winners die.

I love you too, Jungkook.

"Get your hands off my tits."

"Why?"

You glared at him. Jungkook grinned and spun you around, hair still a little damp, kisses on your face that made you cringe as your naked bodies tumbled on the bed, him doing it on purpose, your grumble against his kisses, should have known, his smirk against your scowl, thought you knew me well by now, capturing his lips to shut him up, sinking into his arms and the ocean that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you want to run through the maze of life instead of aimlessly walk down the path.

His hands on your face, staring into your eyes.

You looked back, into those eyes that once had everything, but you.

And yet, he chose to lose it all and have nothing, but you.

It didn't really make sense, being in love.

You searched for regret, but there was none to be found.

"Am I forever your waste of time?" Jungkook whispered, breath drifting over your lips.

You smirked.

"Always was and always will be."

I know you said I was a waste of time. But I was your waste of time and that was all I ever wanted to be.

"Let me at least..."

"Ah, f-fuck, Jungkook!"

Your hands faltered a little, rolling the condom down while biting your lip, gasping as his two fingers plunged into you, him moaning at the wetness, thrusting slowly and deeply.

"What, you think I can't feel good with only your dick?"

"No," Jungkook snickered, pulling his slick fingers out of your pussy and bringing them to his face, cocking an eyebrow. "Just want a taste."

You rolled your eyes as he shoved his fingers into his mouth, sucking them off, eyelids fluttering.

"You're so annoying."

He grinned around his fingers, slowly pulling them out and tracing his wet lips.

You narrowed your eyes.

You don't have to take me back. I understand now, you know... I get it. Everyone... everyone will tell you you're crazy and to not to take me back.

I'm not taking you anywhere.

I... I wouldn't blame you. I promise.

Jungkook, please, shut the fuck up.

Your hands on his chest, smacking your hips down, his head thrown back on the pillows, breathless moan at your tightness, matching his sound with your own, stretching yourself out and feeling him swell even more at the pulse of your walls wrapped around him, rolling your hips into his, wet, intense smacks, his right hand flying up and wrapping around your left wrist, watching you through his lashes with effort, losing himself in your pace, no need to ask because you could see it in his face, his open mouth and glazed over eyes, fingers slipping down, curling your nails into his skin.

“P… Please…”

Raking your nails down his chest, his back arching and eyes closing, groaning in pleasure and pain, fucking him into your mattress so hard that the bedframe squealed, setting your jaw and closing your eyes too, savoring his fullness and thickness, sinking into the ocean of pleasure that was Jeon Jungkook, the one who made you feel like no one else, the one who could make and unmake your mechanical heart, funny how that worked, your nails in his skin creating crescents of lust, your eyes snapping open as you felt his chest rise, his back arching, his hands flat on the bed and thrusting his hips up into you, one eye partly open, black hair pushed back, open-mouthed smirk on his lips.

That dark brown orb partly obscured by his lashes, but revealing all to you.

You ticked your chin at him.

“Look at me.”

His eyes fully opening, pupils dilated, hazed over with lust and stubborn love.

“Nothing is more important to me than loving you,” he panted before sinking his teeth into his lower lip, mole underneath flashing, smacking his hips up into yours hard and fast, and it took no time at all, staring at his face and the way the moonlight cradled his strong jaw and toned muscle, catching the low light and bringing out the fervor in his gaze, filling you just right, pleasure blossoming from your core and yet concentrated tightly at the same time, moan of his name falling from your lips, spilling out from your lips and in between your legs, covering him with the sweet scent and harsh squeezes of orgasm, even wetter now, his eyes rolling back, cock twitching, satisfied hiss of your name spilling out with spurts of cum filling the condom, his length shivering inside you, your thighs closing in and holding him in the air so you could feel it all.

His pleasure and him.

I won’t make it to heaven. I don’t belong there.

It’s not like I belong there either, Jungkook.

Are you sure? Only an angel would take me back.

I didn’t take you back. Only your body walked away. Your heart never left me, did it?

“You sure you don’t want to get a couples tattoo with me?”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around how your dumb ass wants to get ‘loser’ tattooed and how you think that’s romantic.”

He pressed his right forearm against your left and grinned, watching you suck in a breath as he pushed into you again, other condom already in the trash, new one on, your right leg against his chest, sandwiched between your bodies.

“But yeah, if you want, I’ll get a ‘lover’ tattoo.”

He paused, blinking rapidly. “Really?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why not?”

“You never wanted a tattoo before.”

Now you raised both eyebrows. “Did you ever ask me before?”

Jungkook looked down at you, hair a mess, smile blossoming on his face, somewhere between giddiness and mania, diving down and showering you with kisses, you smacking his arms and telling him, you’re bending me in half, the fuck are you doing, and he laughed, lifting both your legs now, I’ll show you bent in half, placing them between his arms, leaning down, sinking in as deep as possible, your moan and his moan mixing together.

You’re still here.

Of course, I am, this is my fucking apartment. Ugh, your black eye looks even uglier than before.

You don’t… you don’t want me to leave?

Did I say that? Uh… why are you crying?

F… Forget I said a-anything…

Hey, stop. Don’t cry. Don’t cry, Jungkook, please…

“Fuck, you feel so good, fuck…!”

Your hands in his hair, teasing grin on your face, and he was looking down at you, I love your smug smile, fuck, your fingers combing through his hair, pushing it back and away from his face, letting him see your smug smile without any obstructions, you always fuck me so well, Jungkook, the smile breaking out over his handsome features, breathing erratic and labored, hard and rough and deep, you rising your hips to meet him for every loud smack, exhales and moans blending together, tight, wet, full, your grip on his hair tightening, closer, closer, racing to the edge of the cliff and the edge of the world, Jungkook in your hands, taking him with you, or was he the one who was leading you?

“Jungkook…”

Breathless as if you were running, winded from the pleasure, tightening around him, his head lowering, your name washing over your cheeks in a hot gasp, putting more weight on you, nearly folded in half but it felt better this way, gratifying in how hard he could fuck you in this position, staring into those dark brown orbs, his body on yours, knowing he was yours, always was, always will be, and you were his, always was, always will be.

Head pressing into the pillows, moaning his name again, loud and unashamed, the overwhelming feeling taking over, muscles tense and nerves on fire, pouring it all into the pleasure, pulsing around his jerking length, his moan of your name on your skin, shooting shivering strings of cum into the condom, massaged and milked by the strength of your orgasm, locking him in your embrace and his arms closing in, lips on lips, a fierce kiss dominated by shuddering aftershocks, trembling in each other’s hold and taking the other’s breath away, blazing hot all over even though this frozen world cared about no one.

The kiss lasted a long, long time.

It fell apart slowly, leaving you both lightheaded from the intensity.

“You’re a waste of time, Jungkook,” you whispered, heated. “But you’re my time.”

The side of his lips quirked upward, sweaty, panting, chuckling.

“That’s all I ever wanted to be.”

--

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