#i still have the playlist i made on spotify of songs i thought they would perform

[misshoneyimhome]

willy the swiftie is my favorite! what fic would you write for him since cardigan is his favorite song?

Oh babe, this sparks so many ideas ❤️ I suppose it really depends on whether William is more of a lyrics kind of guy or a melody kind of guy—does he actually pay attention to the lyrics and feel a connection to the story, or does he just enjoy the vibe, letting the soothing sounds help him relax 🧘🏼‍♀️?

I can absolutely picture him being the latter, which gives such cosy, lazy sofa vibes. The two of you lounging on the couch with a film or TV show you’ve both seen so many times that there’s no need to pay much attention. His thumb softly tracing circles on your arm as you lean against his chest, both of you simply enjoying the stillness and each other’s company.

But if he’s the type who really listens to the lyrics, trying to understand the meaning and connect with it, then that could inspire such a different moment -

➼｡ﾟ

Cardigan I William Nylander ✐

William Nylander wasn’t the type to dwell on the past. Sure, he’d occasionally get nostalgic about his childhood in Sweden or reminisce about a big hockey win from years ago, but he was more of a live in the moment kind of bloke. Unless it involved hockey stats, line combinations, or plays, he didn’t overthink much.

But over the past few weeks, something peculiar had started to happen. A specific song kept cropping up—first on the radio in his car, then in the middle of a shuffle on his Spotify playlist. Cardigan by Taylor Swift.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it. It was catchy, sure, but not the sort of song he’d usually pay attention to. Yet, for some reason, he found himself letting it play instead of skipping it. And then, one evening, as he sat alone in his Toronto flat after practice, the lyrics stopped him in his tracks.

“And when I felt like I was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said I was your favourite.”

The line tugged at something deep inside him, stirring a memory he hadn’t allowed himself to revisit in years. He leaned back on the sofa, staring out at the city lights, the words echoing in his head.

“You drew stars around my scars, but now I’m bleeding.”

A sharp pang spread through his chest—unexpected, almost like his heart had skipped a beat. And just like that, your face appeared in his mind, vivid and unshakable.

He thought of you.

The way you used to look at him with those eyes that seemed to see straight through him, past all the bravado and the hockey jerseys. The sound of your laugh when he’d tease you about your so-called “armchair coaching,” only for you to throw some obscure stat back at him to prove him wrong. The way you’d made him feel like he was more than just a player, more than just a number on a jersey.

He hadn’t let himself think about you in years. Not since that last argument—the one where you’d accused him of caring more about hockey than you, and he’d said you deserved someone who wouldn’t have to split his life between love and a career.

But now, as the song played softly in the background, it was as though the lyrics were unlocking something he’d carefully tucked away. He thought about the way you used to call him “Willy” with that teasing lilt, the way you’d sit beside him at the rink, bundled in scarves and gloves, cheering him on.

He thought about how much he missed you.

William ran a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself for letting his mind wander like this. It wasn’t like him. He was the sort of guy who kept moving forward, who focused on the next game, the next goal, the next win.

But as Cardigan faded into the next song, the weight in his chest lingered. It wasn’t just the music. It was you. You had always been there, somewhere in the back of his mind, like a favourite cardigan tucked away but never truly forgotten.

And for the first time in years, William allowed himself to wonder: Did you ever think about him, too?

[pporappippams]

i can’t believe they have the nerve to send me this like i didn’t waste an unnecessary amount of money on tickets last year just so wayv could perform TWO (2) songs like kill urselves

[reiderwriter]

♡ Forever Only ♡

Week 3 of my Playlist series

Summary: You thought you wouldn't see him again, at least for a while, but Spencer Reid finds you, and he has questions.

Warnings: smut, 18+ minors dni. Penetrative sex, voyeurism, fingering, multiple orgasms, semi-protected sex, creampie, almost breeding kink, like if you squint, slight angst, dom!Spencer Reid.

A/N: First smut of the series! This one is based on one of my top songs of 2023, everyone say thank you, Jaehyun, for releasing the closest K-pop is ever going to get to 00s R&B. I hope you all enjoy it 🥰

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Of all the places you'd been where you thought of Spencer Reid and your paths crossing again, you never expected it to actually happen here.

The club was lit so low, so you didn't really expect it to be him, your ex-something, not quite boyfriend, far from nothing, situationship maybe? But there he was.

Not just him, but all of them. The BAU, minus their bosses, were all dancing and drinking at various points around the club, having fun but still being vigilant.

You're surprised you notice him before he notices you, but you're not surprised that it doesn't take him much longer.

You're not exactly here to blend in with the crowd.

The low-cut dress with the lower-cut bust line is already getting as much attention as you'd expected it would, and that doesn't go unnoticed by Spencer as he finally drags his eyes over to the commotion you've made in the corner.

“I don't know you,” you tried to politely explain to the creep who'd blocked you in with one arm. “I'm just waiting for my friend, please leave me alone.”

“Let's have some fun, baby, you, me, that body you're hiding under those scraps of fabric. I'll make you scream, I promise.”

You'd scoffed the first few times he'd made similar remarks, but he was tenacious, and he didn't understand the word “no,” and was vaguely unfamiliar with “leave,” “me,” and “alone” too.

You'd scanned the room for a friendly face and had locked eyes with the man you'd been waiting six months to meet again. Perfect timing.

Of course, he'd picked up on your discomfort and walked your way, and of course, he'd bought back-up.

“Y/N, you should've sent me a text when you got here!” Emily Prentiss expertly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a hug, as the man was forced to let you move.

“Sorry, I got a bit sidetracked,” you mumbled, still feeling the weight of the creeps gaze on you despite your newly inherited guard dogs.

“Come on over to the table, baby girl, we got bottle service. I'm going big tonight.” You tried to thank Morgan as well, but the smile you sent him didn't reach your eyes as you consciously avoided Spencer's gaze.

“You know these people, babe?” The stranger from behind you put a hand on your waist as he pulled you back a step, leaving you stumbling wide eyed until your back was to his chest, shoulders unconsciously rounding into a protective stance as you tried to shrug hum off.

“For the last time, let go of me. I don't know you, and I don't want to know you. This is your last warning.” You rounded on the man, turned your back to the other three agents, and tried to calm your thoughts to see his next reaction.

“Stuck-up bitch, I said you're coming home with me tonight.”

You made sure his last attempt to grab you was his last attempt to grab any woman as you flipped him onto his back, your fellow agents behind you pulling their guns and handcuffs to helpfully lead him out of his hunting grounds.

You'd hadn't wanted to see Spencer Reid again so soon, and you certainly hadn't wanted to enlist the entire teams help on a serial rape case, but it wasn't your final decision to make.

And honestly, you'd been glad for the help in the take down, with your office so understaffed.

After reading the creep his rights, seizing the date rape drug he'd planned to slip into your drink later that night, and the knives and rope in his card that he was planning to also use on you, you were just thankful that you had all the help you could get.

Now that you were back at the station at 4am, with nothing but aching muscles from handing the nearly 200 lbs man his ass to him on a platters and aching feet from doing it in heels, you wanted nothing else than for the last week to erase itself.

Six months absence from the BAU wasn't long enough to fall out of love with Spencer Reid, and you never thought it would be.

A year was all the time it had taken to fall head over heels for the man, and you'd assumed you could reverse that in the same time, so you'd left.

It wasn't a leave of absence but a strategic departure to a task force in Rapid City, where rape numbers were spiking. You were still doing your job, that was the important part.

You changed into your comfortable clothes in the locker room and grabbed your bag, ready to head out for the night, picking up your keys to head home. You only got two steps out of the room when you ran into him.

“Early start?” He joked, looking at you again with that hesitant half-smile he'd worn the entire week he'd been here.

“Late night.” You replied. It had been a joke you'd developed after so many unusual shifts, so many 3am run-ins where neither of you could find the effort to make actual polite conversation so you'd said the two sentences and sat in amicable silence, often rested against each other as you let exhaustion carry you through the night.

“Can we talk? We're leaving in the morning, and I…” he struggled to find the words, jaw clenching and releasing the way it always did when he couldn't put his emotions into words just yet.

“Sure. But not here. My apartment is a five minute drive.” He nodded and followed you out of the building as you primed your heart to shatter into pieces again.

The drive home was quiet and peaceful, too late for natural traffic, and too early for the morning commute to begin. You made it home in record time and led him inside the apartment you'd chosen.

You flipped the light switch and kept you back to him while you completed your daily routine, trying your best to ignore that he was standing in your doorway. You tried not to be curious about what he could tell about you from the doorway, what the lack of decoration meant, how different it was from that cosy box room three blocks from his apartment, how cold it seemed instead.

So you kept your eyes off him to not have to answer the questions he'd likely have.

“So what did you want to talk about, Spence?” You almost cursed yourself for how easily the nickname slipped from your tongue. You'd heard JJ call him that a few times your first week in the office and assumed it was something everyone used for him. The way he flushed red when you said it the first time was engraved in your head, those first heavy beats of your heart alerting you to oncoming danger.

You grabbed two bottles of water from your fridge and walked back to your living room, where he was still stood taking things in.

“Spencer?” You asked again, holding out the bottle.

He took it with a small smile of thanks, and you led him over to the sofa, urging him to talk again.

“What did you want to talk about?”

“You… you didn't say goodbye.”

You knew this was coming, but you hoped he wouldn't have the courage to ask you the questions you knew were about to arrive at your door.

“I'm coming back in six months, Spencer. I didn't say goodbye because it wasn't going to be goodbye.” You'd turned this excuse over in your brain enough to know it was a weak argument, but you hoped your friendly smile would reassure him.

“You didn't tell anyone you were leaving until you were gone. That hurt a lot.”

“I didn't want to hurt you. Everything was just so fast. I had to take the offer immediately, or they would've moved onto someone else. You understand, right, Spencer?” He sat back, resigned, and nodded again slightly.

But a silence built up as he stared at you, and your hands got all sweaty the way they always did when he paid attention to you. You couldn't just stare everywhere else until he broke the silence again.

“How is Rachel? I haven't heard from her in a while.” You blurted the words under the weight of his gaze.

And you knew you'd said too much in those two sentences.

You'd first introduced Spencer to your college roommate after you realised you were in love with him. You'd spent a year at the BAU, and you thought he felt the same way, too.

You hadn't said anything, but you ate together at his apartment weekly, and you went on outings - dates, you'd thought they were dates - to museums and movies. He'd slept over at your house once, and you'd never felt happier than waking up with his arms wrapped around you.

So, of course, you'd taken him along to a party your friend from college was throwing. You'd nearly introduced him as your boyfriend, and looking back, you were glad Rachel had cut you off before you could.

“Is this the famous Spencer Reid? You're cuter than I thought you'd be.” You saw the flirtatious spark in her eyes, heard her tone, and felt uncomfortable.

You felt even worse when she took his hand and led him off to introduce him to more of your friends without a glance back at you.

For the first hour, you were worried about him, knowing that he never did great in social settings. You contented yourself by catching up with old friends, nursing a glass of wine, and trying not to follow him around the room with your eyes.

You'd given up and sat miserably in the corner for the next hour before you'd decided you wanted to leave. This time you'd had to track him down.

It wasn't that you'd found him in any compromising situation. He was just sat on the couch, smiling and talking to her. But when you said you wanted to go home, and he'd agreed to drive you back, she'd grabbed his hand.

“So Tuesday, 8 pm, right? It's a date." He nodded and said his goodbyes, and you wiped all of the emotion off your face so you didn't break down right there.

He talked to you as he drove back, but you could only nod and hum in response.

You shrugged off his concern as you walked into your apartment alone and let your heart break.

You were in Rapid City the next week.

“Your friend from college? I'm….I'm not sure.” He looked genuinely confused down at you as your lungs capsized in on themselves.

“Oh, right.” You nodded again and forced out a yawn, desperate to get rid of him before he could climb back into your heart again and roost there.

“You didn't keep in touch with her after you moved?”

“We had… a disagreement.” It was a kind way to put what had happened. You'd sent her one text asking her what all of that was at her party, and she'd sent you a paragraph back the day of her date with Spencer calling you pathetic and lonely and jealous. And then she'd blocked your number.

“That sucks. She seemed nice.” You couldn't help but scoff at his words, completely forgetting your plan to ask him to leave. Of course, he thought Rachel was nice. He'd been half in love with her by the end of that party.

“What was that for?” He asked, the words spilling out quickly as his eyes narrowed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Nothing. It's late, Spencer.”

“I don't think it was nothing. Why are you asking me about your friend? Why would I know?” He was on the edge of his seat now, and you needed desperately to put some space between you. You stood up and stretched, moving to clean up a pile of papers you'd left on your coffee table that morning.

“You certainly seemed interested six months ago, Spence. I just assumed there was a second date after that first one. My bad.”

You moved to your kitchen, bit he followed you.

“What do you mean? Y/N?” You weren't listening though, instead organising and cleaning things at a quick pace so your brain didn't have to focus on his question.

“Y/N, look at me. Please.” He stepped closer his chest nearly against your back as his hand found your wrist.

It was involuntary, but you relaxed into his familiar grip, your body finally content, and now it was back in his arms.

“Or don't look at me and just listen to me. I don't know what you're talking about, but I never went on any date with Rachel. I wasn't interested in her like that, I was interested in-” He stopped short, frustration ebbing his voice off as the silent words hung between the two of you.

You finally turned around to look at him, and you could see the hurt in his eyes.

He whispered his question again.

“Why didn't you say goodbye?”

“Because my heart was broken, Spencer. Because I took you to meet my friends and I thought I was going to introduce you as my boyfriend, but instead I got ignored the whole night and then you arranged to meet with her and she called it a date. I loved you, I love you and I couldn't say goodbye because then I'd have to hear about it. About how you were happy without me, when I was lonely and broken without you.”

You didn't know you were crying until the tears his your lips. He wiped then away, but they still tasted salty as you licked your lips.

“I didn't come to work for a month,” he confessed. “After you left, I tried to give Hotch my resignation letter. He wouldn't tell me where you went. I came back but it wasn't the same without you.” His forehead rested against yours, noses touching as his words came out barely above a whisper.

“I can't come back, Spencer. Not until I don't feel this way anymore.”

He didn't miss a beat before pressing his lips against yours.

“Don't.” He said between kisses, pinning you against your kitchen counter as he gripped your waist in one hand. You didn't pull away, even as you felt your hot tears flow freely.

“Don't stop loving me. Please.” His voice broke as he pulled you in for a hug, wrapping his arms tight around your back, pinning your hands to his chest as sobs wracked through your body.

You'd held onto this pain for a year and it was all spilling out now.

He looked at you again and started kissing each tear away, lifting you up until your legs were wrapped around him, and he was as close you you as he could possibly be.

“Love me forever. Please.”

You pulled his head away to look at him again, searching for reassurance again that this wasn't going to be one-sided.

“What about you? If I love you forever, which I don't think I have a choice in, how-”

“I love you. I loved you then, I love you now, I will always love you. I don't know how it wasn't clear when I followed you around every second of the day.” He kissed you with each confession, looking angry at himself that he'd never said the words before.

“I asked your friend how I should ask you to be my girlfriend. She had a lot of ideas and said we should meet up and talk about it. I didn't know…” He cursed, not quite as quietly as he'd attempted to. The strangeness of it shocked a laugh out of you, the rumble of it vibrating through your chest. He still held you tightly, but he looked at you again, getting out of his head.

“What's funny?”

“You tried to quit your job to look for me.”

“You moved to South Dakota instead of asking what we were.”

“You kissed me before you told me how you felt.”

“You kissed me back and then you laughed at me.”

“You swore!” You laughed again, and you were sure that he was going to have to put you down this time. You were laughing so much.

Instead he pulled you tighter into his arms and walked out of the kitchen.

“Is this the bedroom?” He asked nodding towards the closed door.

Your laugh quieted at the charged question, until your eyes found his lips as you nodded.

“Good.”

You let him lay you down on the bed before you pulled him in for another kiss, this one more fiery than any you'd shared in the kitchen as he hovered over you on the bed.

“Spencer!” You gasped as his hands trailed under your shirt. You regretted changing out of that small dress now, regretting the amount of fabric between you and him as his hands glided up to your breasts, mouth pressing kiss after kiss into your neck and collarbone.

He nestled his knee between yours and climbed fully over you, pushing your legs open as he showed you where you were going next. You moaned as your back arched into his touch, rubbing yourself against him but still needing him closer.

“I love every sound you make.’ He whispered as his other hand worked its way under the sweatpants you'd thrown on earlier, silently pushing them down your legs as you lifted your hips to help him once again.

His mouth connected with yours again after he got them to your knees, hand pressing flat against your stomach as you finished off the job.

He laid next to you, pulling his lips off your own as you trailed after him. But his eyes weren't on you anymore. You followed his gaze to his hand and watched him slip his fingers under your panties as he began to tease your sensitive parts.

You whimpered slightly as the contact, as he gathered some of your wetness and ran his fingers up and down your sensitive parts.

His lips found your ears. “Just like that. I want to hear you just like that. Whimper for me, Y/N. Beg for me. Let me know how much you want this.”

You gasped as he started rubbing slow even circles around your clit, his body still rolled to the side so he could watch intently the pleasure on your face.

It was near voyeuristic, his eyes focused on your face, the pants of air escaping your lips, the way your nipples had hardened, and had become visible through your shirt.

You hadn't been able to wear a bra with your dress earlier, you wanted to explain, but you couldn't find the words.

“Look at your body reacting to me. You need me to make you feel like this.” He whispered, lowering his head to press a chaste kiss over your clothed nipple. “Right?”

“Yes, fuck, yes Spencer. I need you.”

“Here. Can you feel how much I need you, too?” He grabbed your hand in his free one and pulled it over his erection, instructing you silently on how to hold it and rub it.

“I can feel it, Spencer. Please, please fuck me.” Your voice felt alien to yourself. You'd never had that high of a sex drive before, so you'd never thought you'd ever have to beg for it. But there was something in the tender touch of Spencer's fingers that has you desperate to feel him inside you.

“Do you have condoms?”

“No.”

“Birth control?”

“Yes, yes, please, Spencer. Please, I don't care.” His pace had picked up, his fingers moving slightly rougher than before, but you knew you were close as he kept massaging your sensitive clit.

You knew you were going to cum before you felt him inside you, you knew you'd want to cum again. You were going to be forever insatiable because of this man.

He kissed his way across your skin as he peeled your shirt and his clothes off, leaving your panties for last as he watched you grind your cunt into his fingers.

“I love you,” he whispered In your ear as he stroked his cock, watching your body convulse as you came just at his touch.

He kept his lips close to your ear as he entered you during the throes of your first orgasm, whispering again when he had slid his entire length into you. “And you're mine.”

You were intoxicated by his touch, cum drunk as he began thrusting and you wrapped your legs around his waist.

He nipped and sucked at your neck, listening to you moan and whimper as he pulled out and entered you again and again, head thrown back into the sheets of the bed you'd been too eager to climb underneath.

A few minutes of thrusting and he gripped your waist and sat you up on his cock, moving his hands to your thighs as you wrapped your arms around his neck as he bounced you steadily on his cock.

“Shit, Spencer, you're…so…deep,” you pulled him in closer, burying your head in his neck as you deafened as embarrassing squeal.

You came again on his cock as he used you like a flashlight, his own pants and groans soundtracking your breathless orgasm.

“That's it, good job, Y/N,” he cooed at you, lowering you back onto your back and thrusting shallowly through your convulsions. When you'd recovered slightly again, he gently pushed your legs up, stretching you so your knees were as far back as they could go, splayed open so they were almost touching the bed.

His forehead rested against yours again as he held you in place, keeping his eyes locked on yours as he snapped his hips into you with long, quick thrusts that had you gasping again for the breath he was forcing out of your lungs.

“I love you. And you are mine.” He said. “I love you, and you are mine.” The words were a mantra to him as he worked himself to the edge.

“Yes, yes, I'm yours. I love you, I'm yours, Spencer.” He came with a whimper, releasing inside of you and collapsing gently into your arms as you readied yourself to hold one another for the rest of eternity.

[layuhsblog]

Hi, I'm not sure if ur still open to requests (I'm so sorry if ur not >_<) but could u do some princess treatment with nct dream bcz I've genuinely just thought of them spoiling their gfs🫶🏻

NCT DREAM GIVING THEIR S/O PRINCESS TREATMENT

its not too princessy and more domestic and 'nct dream as boyfriends'

reqs are still open, ask away babies

idk how to write diff stuff for diff members but i tried and i hope you like it. definitely very fluffy tho. and YEP THEY'RE DEF THE SPOILING THEIR GFS TYPE

warnings: very fluffy, suggestive at some places, very crack, a bit imagine based as well, i think i swore once? i dont remember, some members are too short I'm sorry i was having writers block also ITS LONG.

also cus its so long its unedited.

members drabbles under the cut

Mark:

• I feel like if you're dating Mark, your house will never be quiet, whether its with his chaotic unhinged questions, his jokes, him singing or producing songs or just his playlists playing in the background. especially if you're the type to always need some kind of background noise while doing chores- he'll make you like a thousand playlists for every mood, every chore etc.

He'll even make you a personal playlist with secret songs only meant for you to listen, even if the lyrics are highly unhinged like;

"Yoyo my girls cookin, and she's hella goodlookin yoyo" just for you to laugh at his silly antics even when hes away for too long.

• I dont see him as someone who'll get you flowers cus I feel like he will get sad when they die. He'll stay up at night when youre asleep finding origami videos to make you paper flower bouquets. Each date a different type of flower. Even goes out of his way and googles what flower signifies what feeling, literally befriends a flower shop owner.

• He once called them at 4am to ask what flower means "I'm sorry, I messed up. Please don't break up with me." The phone hung up on his face ofc. Your argument was about mint chocolate and pineapples on pizza. You obviously wouldn't break up with him for that. (He hopes)

•You definitely have a specific closet filled w those paper flowers. He has never given you a handmade bouquet of your favourite flowers cus he plans on doing so when he proposes to you, hiding the ring at the bottom of the bouquet. AHH IM SOFT

•Personal Spotify, he'll sing you to sleep whenever you tell him to, whatever you tell him to.

•You once had an argument with him in public and he asked you how he can make you forgive him so you made him sing 'Welcome to Miami' infront on random strangers

•OH I FEEL LIKE. If you're on a picnic. He would take help from his members (the 127 hyungs. Dreamies are hopeless I'm sorry) and make you both a bento. Imagine your surprise when you opened the picnic basket and saw two lunchboxes one was spiderman and the other was hello kitty.

"Mark, this is so cute. But yknow I like spiderman too right?"

"WAIT WHAT DUDE, YOU DIDN'T TELL ME. YOUR FAVOURITE MOVIE? YOUR FAVOURITE SPIDERMAN? OPINION ON NO WAY HOME."

I've said this before and I'll say it again, Mark's the type of boyfriend to snatch a jar from you, tell you he got it and fail miserably. Most of the time when you DO have a problem opening a jar and you go to him..he gulps nervously.

"I, have to go to the bathroom. Be right back."

"Mark- ...you took the jar with you.."

You know where this is going.

"JOHNNY HYUNG, QUICK LOOSEN THIS JAR SO I CAN IMPRESS ____"

"LOOK BABE, I'M SO STRONG."

"Baby, I know you asked Johnny to help. But thankyou! Yes you're very strong."

To sum it up, being with Mark is dorky and comforting and you love that man with all your heart.

Renjun:

•I see Renjun as the type to do princess treatment stuff with you together.

•Like Idk how to explain it- you both spoil eachother. Your nighttime skincare takes you both HOURS because instead of doing like sane people, you do it on EACHOTHER, explaining every step of your routine to the camera (the mirror) in a fake accent.

•If he sees you painting your nails, he gets offended because he's your personal nail tech.

I definitely see him as the type to tell you,

"Gurl, that watermarble is a disaster. Let me do it for you." and he does a better job than you.

"Silly girl, this is why you should always let me do your nails. Don't even bother."

•He's adorable, if its your birthday or you achieved smtn big at a job or at uni he would celebrate it with you. Decorate your room with pink balloons and stuff, get you a tiara and a sash- like a true princess, get you a pretty dress to wear. Click your pics and share it on his close friends story.

You love it. You saved that same tiara for his birthdays and achievements and crowned him your princess. CUTIES

•Allows you to do his makeup while you're sitting on his lap on one condition, you don't click pics.

Once he grows into it though-

"Hey! Blend that foundation properly, my neck and my face are two different shades."

You show your puppy eyes to him he's cracking. Lets you take as many pics as you want, doesn't say shit when you post it. He's soft for you.

•I dont see him as a very verbally expressive partner, he'll show you through his actions, like the one time a family member of yours was very sick and admitted in the hospital while he was on tour.

•You were continuously crying on call and it was late where he was. He knew you had trouble sleeping for a few days as you were staying at the hospital with them. He flew in to surprise you and had a mini date in the hospital cafeteria. He made sure you ate and you both took a walk around the building after dinner as he comforted you and gave you advice on how to deal with everything going on.

He stayed in the room, looking after your family member as you showered and slept soundly after forever. You felt bad as he was jetlagged and tired but he scolded you and forced you to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of the door opening and the nurse greeting your relative the next morning. There was a note propped up on the couch you had slept in,

'Had to fly back baby :( Call me anytime and I'll be there. My girl comes first always, I love you<3'

•Oh your family loves him btw, he had also got a get well soon card and a bouquet for your relative.

You were gonna marry this man, you were sure of it.

•Overall he scolds you when you don't take care of yourself and always puts your needs first before his and trusts you fully to do the same when he needs it, and you will<3

Jeno:

•This is so random, but I really see Jeno as the type of boyfriend who bakes for you?

•its just a you and him thing. When you started dating, you were at his dorm and got hungry and night. So he decided to make you a mugcake? It tasted like rubber but you ate it anyway ans reassured him that it was really good. (It wasn't)

HE WAS DETERMINED TO ACTUALLY LEARN HOW TO BAKE FOR YOU.

•Y'all know that guy on tiktok who bakes for his gf?? THAT'S HIS INSPIRATION RIGHT THERE.

•Experiments each recipe on Jaemin before making you try it. Why do you think Jaemin hates strawberries? Its HIS fault.

•Yknow how...Jeno is so buff and sexy?? His favourite part of going to the gym is sending you post workout bathroom mirror selfies. (YES THAT IS SPOILING. SHUSH)

•He also definitely seems like the type to call you princess. If you hate that nickname? He doesn't care he'll call you anyway cus you ARE his princess. You eventually grow into it.

•Definitely the type to wake up no matter how late it is if you need anything. You're hungry? He's up and running ready to cook, go to the convience store or order food for you. Anything his princess wants. You got your periods? You think he already doesn't have your necessities stacked in the dorm bathroom already? Pads, tampons, everything- even if you're on cups, he'll always keep them ready for emergency purposes and incase the other dreamies have their girls over and they need it. Your bf is a gentleman yes. You love it.

•PASSENGER PRINCESS PRIVILEGE. You'll always be connected to the Bluetooth. You never have to drive ever in your life again. His favourite part of driving is you screaming out the lyrics of ur new favourite songs.

He will never tell you how tired he is of listening to the same song over and over and over again. Even if his ears feel like bleeding from listening to the same song again, he'll hold back his tears and just smile. He loves you but he's not a big fan of your music.

"CUS TONIGHT WILL BE THE NIGHT THAT I WILL FALL FOR YO-"

"For the love of GOD- Y/N IF I HEAR YOU SING THAT EMO ASS SONG ONE MORE TIME I'M ACTUALLY GONNA RIP MY HAIR OFF."

"You're so quiet babe, what's up?"

"Huh, nothing... just focusing on the road.. You keep singing, I love your voice hehe."

•Yknow how much it annoys him, youre testing his patience to see when he'll tell you to stop. He wont tho babe, he's getting tortured, stop please. (I unironically love that song)

Haechan:

•I think he's the most princess to ever princess which is why he's perfect at giving princess treatment.

•Also hes very clingy, wont leave you alone for even a minute.

•One time you were cutting fruit with a new knife you had just bought and cut your finger on it. He was so annoying with it;

"NOOO MY BABY GOT AN OUCHIE! NO DON'T TOUCH IT. I'LL GET A BAND-AID. DON'T MOVE."

"Hyuck, its just a small c-" He pecks your lips to shut you up and runs to his room. He runs back and to your surprise shows you a hello kitty band-aid. You laugh at that to which he pouts and claims that "it hurts less with this specific one"

Doesn't even let you wash the cut yourself. He washes it for you, puts antiseptic and lastly puts the bandaid on your finger.

He proudly admires his work and when you thank him he "kisses your ouchie" to which you cringed out for a solid five minutes.

•He's the type to say, "I GOT IT" to everything you're about to do.

Opening a jar? He's got it. Opening your apartment door after a date? GASP YOU JUST GOT A MANICURE, HE'LL DO IT. Reaching for the shelf to grab a mug? He's got his Johnny hyung to get it for you cus he can't reach it either.

•He absolutely thinks it's his job to make you laugh. You literally cannot laugh at another guy's jokes now. Mark is an exception tho, he'll fite you for Mark. How dare you not laugh at a stupid joke Mark made.

•Speaking of fite, He'll let you win all playfights. This is how you know shit is srs between y'all. Haechan is competitive. But he'll let you win. I know its an unpopular opinion.

•Especially if you don't have much in common with Haechan and start showing interest in gaming and ask him to teach you, he'll go very easy on you. Yknow, set his pride aside, let you win a lot of games before actually becoming competitive with you as well. Still he won't ever admit it even years after being together- if you have a particularly bad day, he would let you and not make it very obvious, even if you call him names and make fun of him for being a loser, he'll just have a lovesick smile on his face and stars in his eyes as you're doing a dorky winner dance for beating him.

The 127 boys are very proud of their maknae, he's surely grown a lot. You're both still incredibly immature but they love you together.

•Oh the only down side is you're always competing with Renjun.

"Blink twice if you love Renjun and Mark more than me"

*blinks twice*

"We're done."

"NO. I LOVE THEM BUT I ALSO LOVE YOU. DON'T MAKE ME CHOOSE PLEASE."

•You love him too much to get mad at the fact that he still didnt choose you

Jaemin:

here we go..

my bias wrecker.

•YOU CANNOT DENY He's going to be the best boyfriend ever.

•You want to put ribbons on him? he bought you those himself. the pinkest of pink ribbon for you to tie his hair, biceps, _anything_ with.

•He loves making you flustered.

•Will check up in you every second of the day.

"Did you eat yet? Slept properly? Drink enough water?"

•Nags at you like a mother.

•If you're studying for exam or just working from home in general he'll pop up to check in on you every five minutes with coffee, freshly cut up fruits, chocolates etc.

•If you're too busy to eat, he will pull a chair and sit beside you, stare at you while you work and feed you occassionally.

•When you're tired he'll give you a massage and draw you a pretty bath with rose petals and scented candles and stuff.

•He cannot say no to your puppy eyes. He loves cats but you're the reason he has three.

•Also the type to get jealous of the cats, AND you if you're not giving him attention. He doesnt know whether he wants to be at your place or the cats'.

•HE COOS AT YOU. A LOT. ANYTHING YOU DO. "AIGOOO MY BABY IS SO ADORABLE *insert incoherent wooing noises as he pulls your cheeks* and you're just there like- '🧍😀'

•If you're on a date, you don't even have to ask. He'll already have his camera ready, suggest you cute poses and click pictures for your Instagram. He'd stay up late to edit them himself.

When you're with Na Jaemin you cannot have a blank looking Instagram.

•Overall hes the sweetest and absolutely adorable but he also has a babygirl to take care of. (He himself is a babygirl)

Chenle:

•Oh hes SPOILING and hes SPOILING BADDDD

•Another one to call you princess.

•I saw a reel of him asking his nephew for a kiss before handing him money. THAT'S SO ADORABLE OH MY GOD MY HEART HE'LL DO THAT WITH YOU TOO.

•Even if you're not the type to accept gifts or ask for money he'll MAKE SURE you get used to it because he JUST LOVES SPOILING HIS PRINCESS

•If you're going for a spa or to get your nails done or any type of self care activity and you DONT ask him to pay, he gets mad. he'll sulk, wont talk to you.

"What's the point of being born in a rich family and working hard to earn a living if my girlfriend doesnt want to spend my money?😔"

"CHENLE, I CAN BUY MY OWN GUM FOR GOD'S SAKE. HOW BROKE DO YOU THINK I AM?"

•He loves you so much. Every night when he does his skincare, you're sitting on the bathroom sink and hes doing your skincare as well.

•Another nagger who will ensure you're hydrated and wellfed, keeps track of your period.

"Hello?"

"Open the door, I know you're on your period, I got you heatpacks, pads and chocolates. Let's watch Hamilton and cuddle."

"Lele, marry me."

"Pick your diamond, baby."

AAAAHHH I AM GOING FERAL.

•But, we all know chenle is so much more than just a rich guy, he'll sing you to sleep and stroke your hair whenever you're stressed

•He may be mean and nagging and annoying sometimes but hes such a huge huge softie for you its crazy. Everytime you walk into the room, its all music and wind blowing and time slowing for him. Cliche lover boy and I'm here for it.

•He loves you so much, if you pout at him he'll be on his knees at your service doing anything and everything you tell him to...even aegyo.

"HEY YOU TOLD ME TO DO AEGYO, YOU CANNOT CRINGE OUT NOW. I'M CUTE!!"

Jisung:

•MY BOY PAINTS YOUR NAILS FOR YOU, MESSILY

•He also tries to learn how to cook for you. The first time he cooked, the food tasted like dish soap cus he thought vegetables had to be cleaned with soap.

•Eventually gets better and cooks very comforting meals. They taste like home, you love it. Yknow the type of food that's not too fancy but its warm and make your heart feel full.

•Thats also what loving him would feel like. He wouldn't go OUT and extreme but whatever he does is warm and fills your heart with love for him more everyday.

•Occasional flowers, gets you chocolates/cookies/ice cream everytime you hang out.

•Lot of movie dates, he'll always let you pick the movie. You'll always be the small spoon

•Oh he always pulls your chair at a restaurant. Also has a habit of putting his hand under your shirt and just holding your stomach when cuddling, makes him feel closer to you. Same with hugging, when you hug his hand peeks under your shirt so hes touching your bare back. It's nothing sexual, it's just intimate.

•He would always purposefully leave his hoodies at your place so you dont have to steal them. He's too shy to admit he left them on purpose. Also does it cus if you stole his hoodie, his poor heart wouldn't be able to handle it. It would probably combust into flames.

"You forgot your hoodie at my place."

"Oh shit, well its okay, you can take it. I don't wear it much anyways." and you're just there thinking,

'That's your favourite hoodie man, you'd rot in it if you could.' You don't tease him about it though. Its cute to you that he trusts you with his favourite hoodie.

•He's the type to be jealous of your plushies but then would also go out of his way to buy more for you. He gets sad if you buy new ones.

In his logic, if he buys them for you, he's the father and the kids will be loyal and know their place. But if you buy them, they'll be too greedy to share you with him. Oh please, he talks to trees don't tell me things like these wouldn't cross his mind.

•He loves it when you ask him to pay for dinner cus you usually split the bill. He realised he loves it a BIT TOO MUCH, makes him feel all alpha-protecter, big boy and would start demanding that he pays for dates more often.

Unlike Chenle he's cool with it if you don't like it, he'll turn it down a notch.

•He just wants you to be comfy and he'll always stick to his boundaries while also keeping an eye on you, making sure you're okay, comfortable and happy with him.

-

[onlyswan]

dreamboat | jjk (2)

summary: aboard the dreamboat, jungkook finds himself drawn to a beautiful stranger who appears to be drowning in melancholy. weeks later, he sees her face on the other side of the aquarium at his apartment building’s lobby. he soon learns that it’s not fate’s grand romantic plans that brought you back to his life. / (alt.) / a shipwreck and a dreamboat form an unusual bond in an aquarium.

non!idoljk x f!reader (jk is a business major who works at the amusement park ; oc works at the call center) / strangers to lovers / fluff, angst, suggestive / chapter wc: 15.9k / total fic wc: 30.8k

warnings/content (for full fic): is it an onlyswan fic if nobody cries? ; smoking ; making out ; mention of nude art ; mention of flashing ; panic attack ; a ghost cameo lol ; s*x scandal ; abuse of authority ; harrassment ; jk throws a punch once ; oc drives a motorbike without a helmet once ; vminjin + yeontan cameos :3 ; tae and jk are the same age tho

<- part one (wc: 14.9k) | spotify playlist (open to song recs <3)

note: yaaay full fic is out 🥹💕 i’ve been so attached to these two for the past month i’m gonna miss them sm :( reblogs and feedback are appreciated i’d love to hear your thoughts 🥺 p.s. it does get pretty heavy so pls take care of urself while reading 🫂 hugs and kisses

—

jungkook lets out a big yawn, removing his glasses so he can wipe off the sleepy tears from his eyes. his phone pings with new text messages and he peers down at the table to read them. 

  01:18am

stop texting.

why are you still awake? you have that big presentation tomorrow. 

you need your brain functioning at full capacity so you can answer the prof’s questions.

he types out his response.

  01:20am

i want to sleep too but i’m not yet done practicing 🥲

if you’re on a mission to make him fall hopelessly in love, it would be safe to say that you’re succeeding. instead of being a distraction, here you are showing concern for his health and motivating him about his studies. he’s not used to having this kind of dynamic with the people he likes. usually he’d be stubborn and stay on his phone, but he puts it down so he can refocus on his slides. he’s excited to do his presentation well and gush about it with you at the end of the day.

twenty minutes later, a rapping at the door disrupts his concentration. 

“he better not be drunk.” he grumbles on his way to the door.

no one else would disturb him at this time but taehyung. 

but it’s not taehyung.

it’s you. 

“i didn’t wake you, did i?” 

“no, no- i was still-” he takes a glimpse at his messy desk. “practicing for the presentation… uhm, i thought you were at work?”

“we don’t have work today.”

you nonchalantly bring out a glass full of green goop from your back, encouraging him to take it.

“here, drink this.”

he stares at it in bewilderment as he slowly accepts it. “what’s this?”

“bedtime smoothie.” 

you sense his disgust and foreboding.

“there’s bananas and cherry juice in there.”

that knowledge emboldens him to take a sip. he licks off the mustache it leaves on top of his lips. “hmm, not bad!” 

“i told you so.” you send him a tight-lipped smile which disappears in two seconds. “do you want some help practicing?”

“oh, that’s right.” his eyes widen. “you’re good at speaking!”

he steps aside so you can pass through the narrow entrance. 

“please come in.”

jungkook is compelled to make himself clear. he hasn’t invested on a shelf. never found the time. his room may look like a mess to an outsider’s eyes but he has an organized system and he’s incredibly resourceful. 

“jungkook… you can’t live like this.”

is it that bad?

his jaw slacks when you pick up a plastic bag on the floor and begin throwing in the scattered empty cans and bottles of caffeine on and around his desk, including the one he hasn’t finished drinking yet. that— he won’t win defending.

“you’ll die at this rate.” you rebuke him calmly. “do you even drink water?” 

“of course i do!” he proceeds to drink the smoothie you made for him. “but you drink a lot of coffee too.”

“not anymore,” you head to his fridge after dumping the plastic bag in the trash. “i’m already adjusted to my job… i’m taking these.”

you bring out the two remaining cans of energy drinks and stuff them into the pocket of your hoodie. 

“you can’t just take them!”

you ignore his protest. “is the smoothie good? you like it, right?”

his shoulders deflate in defeat. he takes another gulp and swallows, nodding happily. “i like it.” 

“then i’ll make you an energy-boosting one when you need it. i received fruit baskets at work. they’d only go bad if i try to eat everything alone.” 

“sounds like a sweet deal,” he grins. 

he’s definitely not complaining. the artificial flavoring of the energy drinks pale in comparison to the real thing. 

“okay, let’s get started then.” you pad over to his desk. 

you hand him his laptop which is displaying his powerpoint before making yourself comfortable on his chair. 

he stands infront of you awkwardly. “we’re really doing this?”

“we are,” you reply curtly, sinking further into the chair. it’s a pretty big chair, even for him. it’s endearing to see you play around with it. “are you nervous? you can’t be nervous.”

“i’m not,” he lies. “i’m a professional!” 

you have no idea that you make him more nervous than having forty other people in the same room. 

he sighs. “hold this for me then.”

you take the glass into your hands, sipping a little. he clears his throat and pretends that didn’t affect him at all. 

“okay, let’s start… good mor-”

“wait-” you shake your head, demandingly waving your hand to the right. “wrong slide.”

—

 

“where are you? i thought you were going to help me with my project?” 

jimin, a friend he met through a school organization two years ago, begins coughing dramatically over the phone. “jungkook, i’m sorry. i’m feeling under the weather.”

jungkook grimaces, stopping on his tracks to berate him. “hyung, i can hear the dj music!”

“ah, yes…” he can practically hear the wheels in jimin’s brain turn. “actually, i’m about to leave the club! since i’m not feeling so well.”

“wow,” he huffs out a laugh. “you’re really terrible.”

“i’m serious! let’s reschedule tomorrow. i’ll buy you dinner so we can catch up too.” 

“fine,” he blows a loud breath. 

“i love you, jungkook-ah.” jimin proclaims with exaggerated affection. 

he makes a noise of disgust. “you’re really drunk.”

“oh, why aren’t you saying it back?” jimin angrily questions him. 

“maybe i will, after you buy me food.” 

“okay,” jimin cackles. “i’ll see you tomorrow then.” 

“okay, goodbye.”

he drops the call, still uncertain whether jimin was lying or not. either way, he gets a free meal and he no longer feels the need to complain.

he shrugs and continues his journey home. 

that is until he inhales the unmistakable scent of smoke from the alleyway. 

again, it could be anybody, but there’s a peculiar feeling that won’t let him move forward. deja vú is what they call it. it is often described as bittersweet, but jungkook is nervous. scared even. 

he doesn’t want his gut feeling to be right. 

he knows what your sobs sound like, their effect on him and his heart that is awfully weak when it comes to you, but he wants to be wrong so badly. 

right then and there, jungkook faces a dilemma.

those who hide do not want to be found. 

he has the choice to keep walking, pretend that he was never here. that it doesn’t hurt him to walk away. he can do what he failed to do the first time and not jump in to interpret your crying as a cry for help. 

he stands there like a fool waiting for the stars to spell out the correct answer for him to read. 

unfortunately for him, life doesn’t work that way and there isn’t even one to wish upon. 

you flicked his forehead and erased his memories. if he makes the same mistake twice, then maybe he can use that as an excuse to lessen the burden of regret. 

—

 

you flinch and lift your head in fear when something bumps against your knee, but that fear soon morphs into an entirely new fear when you perceive the person sitting infront of you. 

your bloodshot eyes make out jungkook’s features in the dim light. 

you’re no stranger to that look. you know what you look like. the cigarette tastes terrible, it doesn’t smell better with liquor either. there are teardrops on the ground and your sobs are caught in your throat and they come out as hiccups. you wouldn’t even dare to call yourself a mess, because scattered pieces of a broken whole float on the surface and sometimes miraculously wash ashore. you’re at the rock bottom being eaten alive and you’re not going anywhere else. 

“just walk away,” you croak out, pushing him away with the hand not holding the cigarette. 

he doesn’t budge. you don’t know if it’s because you’re too weak or he’s too strong. 

“i can’t leave you like this.” 

“you can,” you argue. 

“you don’t have to be alone. i’m here.” 

he holds your arms, coaxing you to recognize the sincerity in his eyes. those wide doe eyes, always shining when you reflect on their irises. you wish they could stay that way forever. you wish you could be at peace with that. 

“you can confide in me. you can use me. whatever you need to feel better. ____, please.” 

“you can’t help me.” you bluntly assert. before he begins begging. before he says more swoon-worthy words that would break down the walls you’ve built. “i appreciate the thought, but nothing you can do will make this better.” 

god knows that you’re yearning to hear them, but you still don’t know how much of it you can trust.  

“maybe i can!” he interjects. desperately. his grip on you tightens a little. it steadies your body as your mind and heart fall apart, but you feel suffocated. 

“jungkook, i don’t want to fight right now.” 

“if you just let me try, ____. i’m here for you. i swear i won’t pass judgement or-”  

“you can’t! okay? you can’t!” you break down, uncontrollable sobs making your words less coherent. “you’re just wasting your time!” 

with every morsel of strength you have left, you force yourself to stand up. an unnamed object clatters on the ground and you shove jungkook to the ground without meaning to. 

a combination of hurt and shock flashes across his face. you become racked with guilt.

however, this is what you wanted. this is for the best. you’re supposed to live a quiet life and not get too close with anyone, but you don’t cause a person this type of pain, and you don’t feel this guilty about it, if your hearts were never intertwined. 

you should be the one to walk away. 

every step you take to escape from him is heavy. you’re confused by the contradictions between your mind and heart and the last thing you need right now is confusing. what else can you do but run? 

jungkook wraps his arms around you from behind, stopping you on your tracks. 

“what are you doing?” 

the world stops for a little while.

“let g- let me go!” 

you struggle out of his embrace, and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed he let you go so easily. 

“you think a hug’s going to make me feel better and fix my life? are you that naive…? wow, i envy you. if it was that easy, i wouldn’t be at this fucking dumpster with you!”

maybe you’re even angry that he did, pounding away at his chest with rigid fists to break his heart too. your throat is painful and rough from screaming but the thought of losing your voice doesn’t occur to you. apparently, you don’t care that you’re burning your lungs either. the world may very well end at this moment because that’s what it feels like. you have nothing left to lose but this vessel— and this vessel is heavy, worn-out, and incurable. 

you’re an overflowing sink of adrenaline rush, shaking and tearing apart at the seams.

“i never would’ve ruined my hair with this- this stupid color. i wouldn’t be getting cursed at by bigoted strangers because they hate my accent…” 

your forehead collapses on jungkook’s chest. a string of sobs follow the words that were forcefully uttered against your better judgment. you would’ve been fine after a smoke and a good cry, not processing anything so you can settle with being numb instead of jaded. 

“i’d still be studying. i’d become a doctor. i wouldn’t give a fuck about fishes and what they can and can’t eat.” 

—

 

for the first time, your laugh stabs him in the chest instead of making his heart flutter. 

“i’d be living a good life not being bombarded by someone who-” you hit his chest with every word spoken with gritted teeth. “wants to be the fucking hero. i don’t need you!” 

there’s no way. you don’t mean that. you’re just angry. jungkook convinces himself in his head as he openly takes the hits. he did say you could confide in him—use him—and you’re doing it right now. he just didn’t know he’d have to grow thicker skin on the spot to be what you need.

your icy glare pierces through him and renders him motionless. 

“you can’t do anything, so please, don’t feel bad for me.” you sneer. “it’s making me feel bad for you.” 

—

 

you’ve stormed off and jungkook stays right where you left him, wiping away his tears. the last time he cried was when his ex-girlfriend broke up with him. that was over a year ago, it only dawns on him now. 

you’ve been the only person in his mind since that one sunny june day. 

where he stands, the autumn winds are getting colder and the winter is fast approaching. 

just as fast your lives were weaved into a blooming wildflower did it also begin to wither. 

jungkook does want to save you, but he doesn’t want to be a hero. after all the time you’ve spent together, do you sincerely see him as someone who values self-interest most of all? the truth did come out, the snide truth, a bitter pill he can’t swallow. you don’t want to be here. he can’t save you. it can’t be possible when he’s part of the picture you can’t stomach to look at. 

“hyung,” he tries to be strong but his voice wavers, echoing the wretched state of him. “are you still at the club?” 

“i’ll turn on my location.” jimin responds without question, which jungkook is thankful for. “call me when you’re near. be safe, got it?”

“yes, hyung,” he ends the call. 

he inhales sharply, hoping that would alleviate the weight on his chest and allow him to move his feet. the heavy smell of burnt chemicals still hangs in the air. even after everything, he’s envious of the discarded stick of drug on the ground for having touched your lips. 

jungkook turns to leave, but is interrupted by a small object caught underneath his shoe. he picks it up for inspection— a blue lighter hand painted with a goldfish. 

he doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry. 

—

 

you woke up with a pounding headache, burdened with immense regret you assume. you deserve it. you don’t remember the exact words you said but you only scream when you don’t know what you’re talking about. you pushed away the only person who cared enough to sit with you in the dark. the line between right and wrong is blurring. you don’t know what you’re doing with your life anymore, if you’re doing anything so that it could be heading somewhere.  

you thought life couldn’t possibly get worse, but here you are anxiously nibbling at your nails as you wait for a man to reply to your texts because you’re scared of losing him.

  08:25am

jungkook i'm sorry about what happened last night i never meant to act that way and hurt you. i was out of my mind

i know you really care about me and i'm grateful for that

please forgive me

  09:13am

[attached image]

you gaze wistfully into the aquarium. the fishes swim around with considerably more energy after their breakfast, and it drives you to wonder if jungkook fed them dinner. last night was the first night you received no messages from jungkook, not even an image alone. 

“i think i fucked it up with your dad.”  

you spot dahlia, and clementine, and coral, and tangerine… blissfully unaware of you drowning in misery.

accordingly, the wildcard emerges from the shipwreck. it swims to you, the glass acting as the barrier that prevents it from kissing your nose. 

it doesn’t do this to jungkook, so you like to think that you’re special. you feel guilty that you failed to treat it the same.

“poor thing,” you hang your head in shame, sniffling. “we haven’t even named you yet.”

—

 

you learned from the new security guard on the night shift that jungkook requested for her to take over feeding for the meantime. three more days pass without any sign or trace of him, and yet you still send him your good morning pictures and you hang out at the lobby waiting for him to come home. 

he has to come home soon. 

he still lives here… right?

  11:47pm  

how long will you ignore me?  

where are you? i'll come to you   

please, let’s talk

 

you jolt on your seat when your phone vibrates with a ping!

  12:01am

jungkook:

meet me at the rooftop

 

you are charged with joy and relief as much as confusion. 

there’s… a rooftop? 

—

 

you stand at the door staring at jungkook’s back, gathering all courage to face him despite your shame eating away at you.

“i didn’t know tenants were allowed here.”

“we’re not,”

he looks back at you, and surprisingly enough, his charming smile melts away your anxiety. you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or bad thing. it’s not right for you to fall in love.

“why are you still standing there?” he chuckles. he sits on a low table with his legs crossed, feet tucked beneath his thighs. he pats the space next to him. “here, sit.” 

with a nod, you close the door behind you. you sit beside him, but with considerable distance, like the first time you sat next to each other. 

“the view is quite nice.”

in consideration of the time, you didn’t expect so many lights. they look like shining stars from where you are, only that you can actually reach for them if you try. you even spot a ferris wheel. although, you’re not certain if it’s from the amusement park jungkook works at.

“it is, isn’t it?”

“do you go up here often?”

“not since the aquarium became our spot.” 

our spot.

you smile to yourself, eyes falling on your lap as you mindlessly fiddle with your fingers. 

“i’m sorry… for what happened.” you pause to swallow the lump in your throat, breathing shakily. 

as ever, it’s difficult to apologize to someone and agree that there are dispensable parts of you. you’re scared that you might cry again infront of him. it never ends well. 

“i-i was having a bad day, and i didn’t want to drag you down with me. but i got overwhelmed by my emotions and i said words i didn’t mean. you didn’t deserve that. i’m sorry.” 

“hey, i understand.” he replies kindly. “it’s also my fault.”

“no, it’s not.” you jump in, not being able to stand him taking blame. “you’re a really good person, jungkook.”

he shakes his head. “i should’ve backed off when you told me to leave.” 

“but i do like being with you.” 

“and you mean that?”

he gazes at you with those endearing doe eyes. you look somewhere else to quell the funny feeling in your heart. 

“of course i do.”

jungkook crosses the distance between you, teasingly bumping his shoulder against yours. “i like being with you too.”

just an hour ago you thought you’d lost him, now he’s here effortlessly making you laugh. perhaps you do take life too seriously, submissive to fear. you weren’t always like this. you wish you could unlearn the new way that you function. 

“so do you forgive me or should i grovel more?” 

“i forgive you.” he rolls his eyes. “i’m not that mean.” 

“apparently i’m the mean one between us.”

“you are,” he chuckles, leaning back and balancing himself with his hands anchored behind on the table. 

for some sick reason, this new position of his leaves you hot and bothered. thankfully, you’ve mastered the art of maintaining a calm demeanor. albeit, it’s not always that you use it for this reason.

“you seriously hurt my feelings back there, you know that?”

“i’m so sorry. i’m really, really sorry.” you apologize more expressively within the more comfortable space the both of you created. “…when is your birthday?”

his forehead wrinkles in confusion at the random question. “why?”

“you’re my friend.” you point out. “we should know these things at least.”

“it’s on september one.” 

“what?!” 

he blinks innocently. “what?” 

“it’s already november!” you point out, taken aback by the fact that you totally missed it. “why didn’t you tell me?”

“you were busy with work. besides, it wasn’t a big deal. i just had beer and meat with my friends.” he shrugs, brushing it off. “when’s yours?”

you rise on your feet, dust off your bottom, and begin marching towards the door.

“where are you going…? yah, ____!”

“i need to do something.” you vaguely inform him, waving your hand. “stay there! wait for me!” 

—

 

“what’s taking so long?” jungkook thinks out loud, scratching his head. 

it’s been fifteen minutes since you left. you couldn’t have forgotten about him already, could you? that might hurt him worse than when you were screaming and punching his chest. he slept over at taehyung’s dorm for a few nights, hoping to find some peace and clarity within a different space, but he was pretty much ready to forgive you when you texted him to apologize, then followed it up with a photo of coral eating. however, taehyung went on and on about his wounded pride, and maybe he did want to see you grovel and feel that he is at some level of importance to you. 

he perks up when the door opens and your head pops out of nowhere, peeking. when did you put on a cap and face mask? did you go out? anyway, you’re so cute, he gushes to himself. 

“close your eyes!” 

“why would i do that?”

“just do it!” you demand with an angry pout. 

“okay, okay- fine!” he surrenders. “i’m closing them now.” 

“no peeking. i see your eyelashes moving.”

“how do you even see from there?!” 

he hears your scoff and the clicking of your shoes as you walk. “you’re not sleek, you know?” 

a series of rustling. a mystery object placed on the table. he gets a whiff of your perfume, powdery and fruity sweet, the next second, you’re tying a silk scarf over his eyes. 

“what’s happening?” he laughs nervously. 

he knows that is not what’s happening, but the impure thoughts enter his mind anyway. 

“i need a minute.” 

you sit beside him, your knee bumping against his. he hears more movements take place. 

“can i remove it now?”

“i said a minute.”

he frowns impatiently. “a minute has passed though.”

“no, it hasn’t.” you counter. “now hush and cover your ears.”

“cover my ears?” he repeats to make sure he heard you correctly.

“yes!”

“why?” he whines. “what is this about?”

“just do it, please?” you plead with him sweetly, covering his ears with your hands as if to demonstrate. 

and since he’s already too deep into this, he obeys your third instruction. he puts his hands over yours, and then you slip away, leaving him covering his ears the way that you wanted. 

“okay, you can look now!”

jungkook removes the scarf over his eyes, and discovers a sight so beautiful, he wants to cry that he can’t permanently capture it in a polaroid. 

this is the first time he’s seeing you in this light, the warm orange glow of birthday candles that paints you spellbinding golden. you’re beaming at him, with a rare smile that reaches your eyes, as you hold up a round chocolate cake topped by fresh strawberries.  

just when he thought it was impossible to fall in love with you harder, you begin singing the happy birthday song. instead of clapping, you sway your body ever so slowly and gracefully. what is arguably considered the jolliest song on earth, you transform into a soft lullaby— the kind that flies you to the night sky and tucks you into bed on the moon, gathers the fluffy clouds and handcrafts them into pillows and a blanket. your voice is light and delicate, sweet as candy. it is an instrument on its own and you do not need anything else. he never knew you were a good singer.

“happy birthday, dear jungkook~ happy birthday to you…” 

this is his best birthday yet, and it’s not even his actual birthday. 

jungkook is stupidly and hopelessly in love with you. 

he welcomes doom, hangs its coat, and pours it a hot cup of tea. 

“i hope you like chocolate. i fought someone for this.” you shyly confess with a laugh. “turns out there’s not many bakeries open at midnight.”

he is speechless. 

his gaze falls on your lap for a moment, where lies an opened plastic clamshell container, two strawberries too small compared to the ones decorating the cake. on the table, a fruit knife sits on top of the cake box. 

you even decorated the bare sides of the cake with half strawberries. he doesn’t think he has seen someone do that yet.  

“i- i like it so much.” he stutters. “you made the cake so pretty.” 

“thank you!” you beam at the compliment. “okay, time to make a wish.” 

he panics a little. he doesn’t know if it’s only a personal or perhaps a universal thing, but he tends to feel pressured when he has to make a birthday wish. he always wants a lot of things. 

“five candles means ‘i’m sorry and happy birthday’ by the way.”

but there is five candles, so maybe he is free to be greedy this time. 

he slowly flutters his eyes shut, and he takes his time to think. after whispering his wish to the universe, he blows out all of the candles. 

“what did you wish for?” 

there is five candles, but he only wished for one thing. 

“if i tell you…” he begins, transfixed eyes tracing down to your lips. “will you make it come true?” 

they part slightly as your chest begins to heave, cranberry stained and inviting. 

he yearns, he craves. he doesn’t want to live with regrets, haunted by the what if’s. all or nothing. you deserve his all. he surrenders everything to your court for the touch of your lips. 

are you thinking what he’s thinking? do you feel the way he does? 

tell him he’s not the only one losing his mind. please. 

and when your eyes lock, there is a palpable electricity none of you can deny. 

“it’s for your birthday. you don’t have to ask.” 

again, the best birthday ever.

without another word, he crosses the short distance, pressing his lips against yours. 

there is no fireworks like in the movies and fairytales. instead, he gets flashes of memories in his mind. all those awkward and comfortable moments, stolen glances, blushing and stuttering, captured images, sleepless nights, tears shed. even the bitter memories inserted make this kiss much sweeter. it’s infinitely better than he could’ve ever imagined. 

he removes his hand tenderly cupping your cheek, also the other that is anchored on the table, blindly searching until he successfully engulfs your delicate hands in his. he holds them, and the board carrying the cake, tightly. 

when you smile against his lips, so does he. you give him a firm peck, so hot that he almost falters on his seat, before breaking away. 

“let’s put this aside first.” you giggle, guiding your restless hands to set it down on the table. “you have chocolate all over your hand.” 

jungkook can hear you, but he’s not listening. he immediately goes for your lips again, and ends up sorely disappointed when you dodge him. 

“whoa, wait. you’ll smear chocolate on my face-”

“you said i don’t have to ask.” he argues.

you narrow your eyes at him.

he hurries with a solution. “i’ll keep my hands behind my back.” and true to his words, he acts as if his hands have been cuffed. 

“that works,” you shrug. 

he is to blame for his nasty torture when you drag yourself closer to him, draping your legs over his thighs and wrapping your arms around his neck. 

you’re practically sitting on his lap and he can’t touch you with his dirty hands. ridiculous.

there is the urge to complain, then lost and forgotten after you seal his lips with yours. he is the luckiest man on earth tonight.

—

 

“will you stay the night?”

jungkook’s cheeks are beginning to ache, but he can’t stop smiling for the life of him. how could he not? you’re lying on his bed, and this time you’re both under the covers. it can’t be more perfect than this, the way you’re mirroring each other. he’s admiring your face and you haven’t averted your eyes from his either. 

at this moment, it feels like nothing else in the world matters.

“if i’m being honest, i’m still scared of the ghost.”

“is he bothering you again?” he quirks an eyebrow, prepared to brawl with a bothersome spirit. he is suddenly aware that the lamp is the only source of light in the apartment. “do we turn on another light?”

“no,“ you chuckle at his reaction. “but he appeared in my dream once after that.”

“what about me?”

“you?” you send him a puzzled look.

he grins toothily. “do i appear in your dreams?”

that earns him a sarcastic roll of the eyes. 

“why is it suddenly about you?”

“i’m helping you get your mind off the ghost!”

“can we just… i don’t know…” you avoid his intense gaze, chewing on your bottom lip. “cuddle?”

this is real, right? he isn’t hallucinating? 

he already made out with you until the two of you couldn’t breathe. surely, cuddling is nothing compared to that… but he has pined for you for months. going from zero to a hundred is giving him emotional motion sickness. like a rollercoaster, but arguably more dangerous. and he shamelessly lives for that. 

“oh, so you got mad at me last week for hugging you but now you want to cuddle?” he mocks humorously. 

“change is the only constant in life.” you say as a matter of fact.

and jungkook isn’t very fond of that knowledge, but if it led you to his arms tonight, then he can try to make peace with it. 

he spreads his arms, and you push yourself close with an arm over his waist, until you’re properly hugging him and he has your body cocooned with his. 

he breathes out a sigh. this is heaven.

“so? have you dreamt of me?”

you make a noise of protest, cheek squished against his chest.

“come on, humor me.” he coaxes you into revelation. “it’s my birthday.”

“…we went on a ferris wheel once.“

“really? were we on a date?”

“i don’t remember.”

“what were we doing?” he continues poking.

“i don’t remember.”

“that’s it?” he grumbles. “you must remember something else.”

you giggle. “it was a long time ago, jungkook.”

“and you didn’t dream of me again after that?”

“stop,” you draw back just enough to see his face. “we have more important things to discuss.” 

jungkook gulps nervously. 

more important things like what? the meaning of that kiss…? um, kisses? the label of your relationship? are you really bringing it up right away like this? he imagined he would be the one to do it. 

“there’s one fish left without a name.”

oh… his face falls. 

“have you thought of one?”

“i have, but…” you jut out your bottom lip. “don’t we decide together?” 

beneath the stoic demeanor you parade around wearing, he realizes that you’re just like everybody else, craving to be held and to spend quality time with someone who makes you feel special. 

he doesn’t hold back on kissing you.

“we will!” he pinches your cheek, which brings out your smile. “i’ll tell you what i think.”

“that goldfish actually reminds me of you.”

“really?” 

you nod eagerly.

“how so?” 

“the both of you,” you giggle. “always follow me around.”

his jaw falls slack, not expecting to be called out like that. you’re having fun with the fact that he’s wrapped around your finger, huh?

“so you want to name it after me?” 

“something like that, but let’s make your name sound cute.”

you hum as the gears in your brain turn. on the other hand, jungkook is not thinking at all, he’s memorizing your face. maybe it’s an artist’s sickness aggravated when faced with the apple of their eye. 

“jung… kook…” you take a long pause, lips left in the shape ‘O’ due to the pronunciation of his name. “kook…?”

“you know, i do get called jungkookie sometimes.”

“jungkookie…?” you slowly repeat the nickname. 

seconds later, your face lights up. 

“then how about kookie? cookie but with-” you draw the letter into the thin air using your index finger. “a ‘k’?” 

jungkook is relieved that you instantly put two and two together. he didn’t want to be the one to suggest it. honestly, rather than a cute vibe, he’s going for the manly vibe. 

“it sounds so cute. what do you think?”

“i think so too!” 

as long as it makes you look this happy, he’d accept any name that you come up with. 

“okay, it’s official.” you return to cuddling up to him. “i can sleep peacefully from now on.” 

was that bothering you? you truly do care for them. he thinks you might care more than he does. 

“let’s sleep…” 

before closing his eyes, he plants an affectionate kiss on top of your head. the truth is he doesn’t want to sleep. if it was up to him, this moment would stretch into forever. as you slip into unconsciousness, he tries his damn hardest to resist it. he yawns, wipes his sleepy tears dry on the pillowcase, caresses your hair and forces his hand to move again when it falls on the bed. 

“jungkook?” 

he hears your voice in its tiniest form yet.

you’re still awake? 

he barely is anymore.

“mhmm?”

“i really am,” he feels a light tug at the back of his shirt, your weak hand forming a closed fist. “sorry.”

—

 

jungkook wakes up at 5am with his stomach grumbling for food. your positions shifted throughout the night and he lies there cuddling you from behind, spending five minutes or so dwelling on regrets. he pictures the cake in the fridge, still in pristine condition, and how different it could’ve been if he didn’t stop himself after three stolen strawberries. 

after that, he thinks about breakfast. rolled omelette would be amazing right now. he just stocked up on side dishes too. only problem is he forgot to buy eggs. 

who goes to the supermarket and somehow manages to miss the whole egg section? 

jeon jungkook, apparently. 

a challenge arises: getting out of bed without waking you up. he isn’t a novice, but he isn’t exactly an expert either. he figures it’s just based on luck, and he’s… very unlucky.

he manages to slip out the arm you’re using as a pillow, replacing it with a real one hoping that you wouldn’t notice the difference in your sleep. a second later and you’re already stretching out your limbs. 

“where are you going?” you utter raspily, swollen eyes from sleep peering at him.

“out- to buy eggs for breakfast.” he replies in a low voice.

you start to harshly rub off the sleep from your eyes. 

“i’ll go with you.”

“there’s no need.” he strokes your hair gently. “sleep more.”

you shake your head stubbornly. “i need to buy something too.”

you drag yourself off of the bed before he can stop you. from your toes down to the heel, you slightly stumble when your feet touch the ground.

“i’ll brush my teeth.”

—

 

once you and jungkook step out of the building, you both find that it’s still before sunrise, but the street lamps are already turned off. everything under the sky is washed with a shade of blue. it feels almost illegal to be here with no other souls walking the streets, but you can breathe a little easier, and you’re warm because jungkook is holding your hand inside the pocket of his jacket. 

what was supposed to be a stolen glance turns into an enamored gaze.

“you look pretty.” 

“so do you,” the two corners of your mouth lift into a quick, shy smile. 

“yah, jungkook!”

that’s taehyung’s voice.

his best friend approaches from the opposite direction, a pomeranian on a leash waddling and wagging its tail beside him. despite the distance, jungkook can already see his smirk poking fun at him. 

count on him to disrupt a perfectly romantic and peaceful moment.

as soon as they meet halfway, jungkook shows him a grimace. 

“what are you doing here?” 

“to return your camera,” he waves the silver film camera, its strap wrapped around his wrist. “i’m taking tannie on a walk so i decided i’d bring it over.”

“okay, give it and go on your way.” 

jungkook snatches it from him, wearing the camera around his wrist as the rightful owner. 

when taehyung finally sets his sight on you, jungkook’s fear of embarrassment instantly kicks in. if he says something stupid, he swears to god— he lets go of your hand in favor of putting his arm around your shoulder, gently tugging you closer to him. 

“you must be ____!” taehyung snaps his fingers when he, at last, recalls your name, which jungkook knows he’s grown tired of hearing. “nice to meet you! i’m taehyung.” 

“ah, yes…”

jungkook senses your awkwardness. he presses his lips into a thin line, sending his best friend a threatening glare that screams ‘i know i’m a hypocrite, but don’t embarrass me.’

“it’s nice to meet you too.” you offer him a polite bow. 

“yeontan seems to like you a lot.” taehyung laughs, gesturing at his dog who is nuzzling its face against your shin. 

jungkook also smiles in endearment. that’s another animal drawn to you for some unknown reason. he can’t say he’s surprised. 

“does he bite?” you cautiously ask.

“no, he’s nice. you can pet him.” 

you nod, bending down to gingerly scratch yeontan’s fluffy ears. “hello, yeontan.” you quietly greet him with a voice so sweet. 

“honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?” 

“must be when she rode the dreamboat before.”

“i don’t think that’s it though?” taehyung tilts his head, still racking his memories for your face. “i think i saw her more recently, but maybe not with pink hair.”

you stiffen beside jungkook, knees going weak out of the blue. you straighten up, but you keep your head slightly bowed down, hair falling over your face. 

“that’s impossible. maybe it was someone who looks like her.” 

“ah, maybe,” 

taehyung rubs the back of his neck, giving in to the theory.

“alright then, tannie is getting hyper.” he snorts at his pet trying to run away but is held back by its leash. “see you around, ____! i’ll see you at work, bro!” 

“sorry about that.” jungkook intertwines your fingers again. “let’s go.”

he moves forward, and you get left behind. 

“____?”

his concern grows when he observes your despondent body language. 

“are you okay?” 

“huh? oh- i’m okay.” 

you snap out of it, but as you walk to the convenience store together, jungkook gets the impression that something is weighing on your mind. 

—

 

jungkook watches you move around the store through the viewfinder of his camera, zooming in on your face when you whip your head around. it fails to capture the countless packs of lozenges you’re hugging to your chest.

“miss ____, who are you buying so many candies for?” 

you blink down at them before innocently staring back at the camera. “they’re for my co-workers. it’s flu season so many of them are getting sick.” 

—

with the sun returning to reign over the vast sky, the shade of blue has been replaced by an orange hue. the two of you walk back to your apartment building in silence. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, if it’s his fault or not, but your mood changed after your encounter with taehyung. 

you’ve decided you want some space and jungkook respects that. the entire time, he thinks about how his hand feels empty without yours. is he being paranoid? he feels like he’s already woken up from a dream too good to be true, crafted out of his greatest fantasies, and he’s going to be thrust into a nightmare— learning that none of it was real. this endless push and pull with you, he’s grown to be somewhat ill at ease in your presence. 

he wants it to go away. 

he moves closer, content with the mere brush of the back of your fingers against his, but that small pleasure is robbed from him when you pull your hand away. 

“let’s stop here.” 

the decisive tone of your voice instantly fills him with dread. 

you turn to face him, and he searches your eyes for any trace of emotion. sadness, or fear, or even humor… but he gets nothing. 

“let’s stop seeing and texting each other.”

and he’s scared most of all when you’re impossible to read. just when he thought he had managed to slither past your walls, he is met by larger and stronger ones with welded spikes.

“what are you talking about?” 

“i don’t want anything to do with you anymore.” 

you said it like it’s nothing. like you haven’t consumed his every thought since he saw you crying and you broke his heart without him knowing your name. like you haven’t been breaking his heart over and over again and he still can’t bring himself to detach from you. 

“what is this joke? it’s not really funny.” 

but he laughs anyway, or else he’d start crying, and you’d want him less. 

“just forget all about me.” 

his muscles tense. even now, he doesn’t know if he’s angry, but he is lost and it hurts so much, and he doesn’t know how else to express it without appearing weak. 

“you think that’s something i can just do overnight?”

“what makes it so hard?” you raise your voice. the venom stings without the bite. “you don’t even know me that well!” 

“then what was last night even about?” he hisses, hands balling into fists. “did you do that just to fuck with my feelings? am i just a game to you? what the fuck is your problem, ____?”

“you told me to use you to make myself feel better!” 

it completely catches him off guard when you stomp your feet and produce guttural screams— it borders on a childish tantrum— you damage your throat in doing so, voice coming out high-pitched and scratched up. 

his jaw clenches, straining to hold back his tears. the sun has risen and you’ve come to your senses. he regrets opening his eyes and acknowledging the morning. 

“it didn’t work— is that what you’re saying? is that why you’re throwing me away?” 

he doesn’t get a verbal answer, but your glassy-eyed stare and labored breathing have answered enough. 

“wow, that hurts…” he chuckles sarcastically. “yah, seriously- i have to give it to you. i’m shocked… you’re good. you’re a good actor.” 

he uses his middle finger to wipe the corners of his eyes, acting as though they are tears of amusement.

“you know, out of everyone i liked… you have to be the most cruel.” 

jungkook’s pride has never been this crushed. he feels utterly infuriated and humiliated. yet another exchange of ‘i should have listened’ and ‘i told you so’ between him and his best friend. he’s also sick and tired of his heart leading him to the opposite direction of the love he deserves. 

“i hope you find some other lunatic who would let you use them too. have a good life.” 

this time around, he walks away, and he would like to think that he did it on his own terms. 

—

 

jungkook loses his appetite after that. he informs his manager that he won’t be able to go to work because he’s feeling under the weather, then he drags himself back to bed. 

your scent has clung to the pillowcase, the sheets… 

it’s unbearable.

despite his lack of energy, he forces himself to set up the extra bed on the floor. he expected himself to have difficulty falling asleep, but the amalgamation of physical and emotional exhaustion pulls him down under.

he wakes up again in the afternoon. he ignores the cake in the fridge, instead snacking on yogurt and crackers while watching a movie on his computer. he takes a long shower after and buries himself in assignments until dinner time rolls in. 

by this time, he assumes taehyung has blabbed about what he saw this morning. his friends must think he’s out here relishing in the honeymoon phase. how he wishes it was true. 

he has that whole carton of eggs but he doesn’t have it in him to cook anymore. maybe it’s best that he surrounds himself with people, disrupt his depressing thoughts with loud chatter, and so he makes plans to go to the street market. 

“wait!”

he sprints to the elevator, managing to slip his arm between the doors before they close entirely. 

under different circumstances, this would’ve been fate instead of bad luck.

—

you stand your ground as jungkook enters the elevator, not sparing him a glance. just like you wanted, he also treats you with indifference. it’s hard to breathe in an enclosed space with him now that he hates you. 

two girls from the eleventh floor enter; they stand infront of you and jungkook.

“did you find the video?” the girl infront of you, with the blonde hair, asks impatiently. 

“wait- i’m looking for it.” her friend, you assume, replies as she is focused on aggressively scrolling and tapping on her phone screen.

“having a sex scandal with your professor? wow, that’s really something. how does that even happen?” 

your blood runs cold.

from that statement alone, you can make an educated guess on what exactly they are talking about, but your brain tries to reject the thought. there are many scandals going around these days. maybe they’re talking about somebody else. you hope they are. does that make you a bad person?

“that’s not confirmed, though. the guy’s face doesn’t show in the video… oh, i found it!”

she presents her phone screen to the blonde-haired girl, and you feel as though gallons of ice have been dumped over your head. through the gap between their arms, you get a good view of your face. of the video you were forced to watch so you could acknowledge your sin… the video that not only damaged your reputation but stripped you away of everything. your dignity, your dreams, your people, the essence of your being. 

you don’t need to look to know that beside you, jungkook is also secretly watching. 

you’re trapped. 

“this was really popular at snu but it suddenly got spread outside. my cousin who studies there said the girl’s parents are like- super rich- and they tried to bribe the university, but she still got kicked out. i think her name is ____?”

you bow your head to hide your face, vision gradually going blurry. strangers drop your name so casually to tell the shortest life story known to man. they discard the majority of the parts, retain and distort what entertains them, and in the end, they decide who you are. 

you knew it was going to happen eventually, but this isn’t how you wanted jungkook to learn.

you didn’t want to be here for it. 

“wow, she’s going at it.”

a scandalized gasp. 

“no wonder men are going crazy over this. even the quality is-”

“insane, right?!” the storyteller whisper-shouts. 

“but… what if she doesn’t know she’s being recorded? getting kicked out sounds a bit unfair, no?” 

“no, no- she even holds the camera when they switch positions. watch!” 

you can’t. you can’t take it anymore. you turn away, squeezing your eyes shut in extreme anguish. 

you don’t realize that you’re shaking until jungkook holds your hand tightly, it’s almost crushing. 

“ah, what are you doing?! turn it off! turn it off! it’s too disgusting from this angle!” 

you look at him in shock, for a split moment you forgot he was there. his features have softened; so does your heart. 

although you can’t exactly figure out how he’s feeling, you’d take anything that isn’t disgust. 

the elevator reaches the ground floor. 

as the girls take their leave, you also attempt to step out— but jungkook doesn’t let you. he grips your hand tighter and he presses the button of your apartment floor. 

“why did you- i need to go to work…” you meant to chastise him, but your voice comes out small. 

“stay a little bit. it’s still early.” he speaks to you softly, wiping off the beads of cold sweat on your forehead. 

when did that happen? 

“no, i need to-” 

you feel dizzy; the walls are closing in on you. the turning of your stomach is bordering on intolerable. you lurch, pushing him away as you clamp a hand over your mouth and gag uncontrollably. you’ve had to experience this humiliation in school hallways, public spaces… in front of your friends, your parents; in the dean’s office. this is the first time your body is having this type of reaction; you feel physically sick, like your body is shutting down. 

he rubs your back as an effort to alleviate your ails. “are you okay?”

you could answer, but what’s the point? you’re breaking down in front of him again. you’re no longer the mystifying neighbor he obviously yet secretly cherishes. he has discovered the missing puzzle piece you could never bury even if you died trying. 

“did you enjoy it?”

“what?”

you wish he would stop looking at you with those big, sparkly eyes. at this moment, they’re making you feel small. 

“the video. was it fun watching it too?”

the silence is suffocating.

he utters your name. he doesn’t know what to say; you don’t know what you want to hear either.

“it doesn’t change the way i see you.”

“bullshit,” you spit out— a knee-jerk reaction. 

“look, i-i don’t know what happened but this isn’t right. you don’t deserve this. you can sue ever- wait! ____!”

the elevator opens and he chases after you, effectively blocking your path.

he has officially wore you down. 

“it’s not me,” you declare near to tears instead of pushing him away. “it’s not me, jungkook. i d-don’t know how they- they did it. i know it looks so real but it’s not me. i swear-”

and as an act of desperation, after months of having given up on proving it’s all some sort of well-orchestrated deception, your hands come up to the buttons of your blouse.

“it’s not my body.”

“no no no- you don’t have to do this! this isn’t right!” jungkook freaks out and binds your wrists with his hands, unwillingly using his strength on you when you fight back. he anxiously glances at the camera monitoring the hallway. “stop, stop-”

“i just need one person to believe me.”

“i believe you, okay?” he captures your wrists in one hand, the other tenderly caresses your cheek. “i believe you. i promise.”

he cradles your head on his shoulder, hugging you so tightly it almost feels like you’re one person.

“when the girl said you might not even know you were being recorded… the terrible thoughts i had- like what if he…” 

it’s too much alone in his head. he can’t bring himself to say it into the universe.

“but you didn’t get hurt, right? nothing like that happened? it’s not even real.” he sniffles, holding you tighter as if that is still possible. “that’s a relief… i mean- this, this is bad, what happened to you is. but i was scared.”

you remain there, dumbstruck and motionless. the line between standing and letting jungkook carry your weight has blurred. 

you wish he would never let you go.

—

 

jungkook brings you to his apartment, sits you down in the kitchen, and takes out his birthday cake from fridge. he conveniently finds two pairs of chopsticks in a plastic bag on the table and offers you one, which you accept without thinking. you think he understands that you don’t want to talk about it but you can’t be alone right now either. 

chocolate is supposed to help raise one’s spirit, doesn’t it?

well, it tastes delicious, and jungkook is with you. you feel a little less shitty. 

he can’t sit still, though. 

he cracks open the eggs he bought this morning into a bowl and starts chopping up vegetables to be mixed into it. all the while you sit and watch in silence. no, in peace. the rhythmic tapping of the knife against the chopping board is like music to your ears. even the sound of the oil crackling as he pours the beaten eggs into the frying pan. 

you abandon the endorphin-inducing treat on the table. you saunter over to jungkook in search of something else more associated with love, sneaking your arms around his torso. a tidal wave of relief washes over you. this feels more like resting, and you can’t believe you’re saying this, better than drugs. as it turns out, you’ve been homesick for a body you haven’t touched. a hug can’t fix your life, but it may convince you that it’s possible to survive an unfixable life. 

however, the key difference between jungkook and nicotine is that you can’t simply have jungkook because you want to. 

what he has unleashed upon you is greed.

“i’m sorry,” the more you apologize, the easier it becomes, but you’re also growing sick of it. “i didn’t mean what i said. i was scared of your reaction when you find out so i pushed you away… i keep taking you for granted. i’m sorry.” 

“it’s okay, i understand.” he rubs your forearm comfortingly. “just don’t do it again… it really hurt.” 

“i like you too.” you confess like you’re running out of time. 

you no longer have room for apprehension. you can’t gamble with your chances once more when there’s not much left. 

“i wasn’t playing with your feelings. up until earlier, i thought i’d never be able to let you know, so i’m doing it now. i like you.”

a chill runs along your spine. it feels immensely intimate— how jungkook slowly takes a hold of your hand and guides it to his soft lips, pressing a long kiss to your skin. 

“i like you too, a lot.” his laughter makes his body vibrate, waking up the slumbering butterflies in your stomach. “incase i haven’t made it obvious enough.”

—

“will you stay?”

you nod your head as you joyfully munch on your fresh homemade meal. “they’re already forcing me to use my vacation days anyway.”

he makes a noise of surprise. “you’ve never missed work?”

you shake your head no.

“rude clients aside, i like what i do. it helps me keep my mind off…” you wave the radish-bearing chopsticks. “things.” 

he only nods, ruffling your hair affectionately. “you should eat well, okay?”

“you too!” 

you feed him a big bite of your omelette, and then rice, and then kimchi. 

it results in stuffed cheeks and aggressive chewing, but you look especially happy watching him eat. jungkook assumes that it’s just how you express your affection, and it’s euphoria to be at the receiving end. 

—

you found your way back to where you were last night— jungkook’s warm bed. comfy pajamas and tangled limbs. everything went to shit after you left, so if you were to get stuck here forever, he wouldn’t disapprove. 

he listens to you talk as half of his mind is preoccupied by innocently kissing every inch of the exposed skin of your face and neck.

“i’m going to the salon tomorrow.”

he inwardly groans against your neck when your fingers card through his silky yet messy hair, twisting and tugging.

“what color should i color my hair? red? orange? brown?”

“red sounds really great?” he draws back in excitement. “but i’m going to miss your pink hair. how did you maintain it for so long?”

“i only chose it because it doesn’t look good on me.” 

“that’s ridiculous!” he exclaims.

you snort. “i thought if it doesn’t fit me then it would seriously change the way i look.” 

“then you were very wrong. it fits you so well.” he passionately insists that you see yourself from his point-of-view.

“you’re ridiculous.”

you don’t believe him, but he still earns himself a kiss on the lips. 

“have you ever thought of getting a lip piercing?”

“why?” he fails to hide his smug grin. “would it look good on me?”

“mhmm, i imagine so.”

you lazily trace his lips with your thumb. it’s suddenly making him dizzy. 

“should i get it then?”

“nope,” you reply with finality. “too many girls would fantasize about kissing you.” 

he bursts out laughing. “isn’t that too much of a stretch?” 

“i’m a girl! i’d know!” 

“so you’re the jealous type, huh?” he cockily quirks an eyebrow.

“i’m not,” you scoff.

“possessive?” 

“maybe,” you shrug.

“cool,” he chuckles. “you want to keep kissing?”

you don’t answer and instead you meet his lips halfway with a tug at the collar of his shirt. you’re an amazing kisser; his brain goes haywire once you tilt your head and you kiss him deeper, tongue sneaking in for a taste. he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else again. 

as the tension escalates into something hotter, your wandering hand manages to slip under his shirt, teasing and caressing his skin. fuck, he feels like he’s running a fever. however, when your fingers begin tracing and teasing the waistband of his calvin klein boxers, much as it feels heavenly and stirs something feral deep within him, he has to pull away. 

not too fast. 

he doesn’t want to overwhelm you. he’s afraid you’re not thinking straight.

“are you free this weekend?” he asks as he catches his breath, tongue swiping over his swollen lips. 

“saturday night,” you reply with a drunk smile. 

“since you granted my birthday wish, shall we make your ferris wheel dream come true?” 

your smile fades away a little. “where you work?” 

he nods, but he senses your hesitation. “but we can go to a different one, if you’d like.”

as your silence stretches, he also begins to regret having asked you in the first place. after what happened only hours ago, you must not want to go out in public and risk reliving that experience. 

“…doesn’t it bother you that your friends may have seen the video already?” 

at that moment, taehyung’s voice rings in his ears.

‘honestly, ____ looks familiar to me. have we met before?’

his heart breaks upon the sight of genuine fear swimming in your eyes. he dips his head to press a kiss on your forehead, and he hugs you tight. and tighter. he doesn’t pray much, or ask big questions, but he despises it when bad things happen to good people. he wants to protect you, but how?

“i’d tell them the truth. i’d fight for your case.”

“but what if they don’t believe you…?”

—

a deafening crash resonates in the break room as taehyung’s body slams against the lockers before collapsing on the floor. 

“ah, seriously! i said it’s not her!”

“what the fuck, dude?!” taehyung yelps as he sits up, putting a hand over his assaulted cheek. he’s more offended than hurt if he’s being honest.

as it turns out, it does bother jungkook.

taehyung’s phone landed a few feet away from him. the video is still going, and unlike the people in the elevator, he didn’t have the courtesy to keep it muted. obscene moans and sounds of skin slapping repeatedly play from the speakers at a low volume. 

“it’s so clear, look! how can it not be her?!” 

“it’s edited! it’s ai, you fucking idiot!” jungkook scowls at him. 

he picks up the phone, teeth gritted in anger as he exits the video and discovers that it’s posted at an adult website. the view count has reached five digits and the comment section is flooded. he knows this isn’t the only place it’s posted. hell, other people could have it downloaded. although it’s not your body, it’s still you being violated and lusted after. he feels sick to his stomach. 

“you should’ve said that from the start!” 

he looks away for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut, hard, hoping that would erase the explicit images and thumbnails from his memory. after gathering himself together, his eyes zero in on the report button. 

he clicks ‘submit’ before he crumbles, weakly sitting down on the chair. 

taehyung rushes to his phone that was tossed carelessly on the table. “ah shit- the screen is cracked!” 

if this is how he feels, then he can’t even begin to imagine how you feel. 

he stares at the floor, eyes unfocused. the world goes on and his back remains hunched over as he struggles to make sense of what he should do. 

—

 

when you were called over to the human resource department, you didn’t exactly prepare yourself to watch your alleged sex scandal on a 21.5-inch computer monitor. the light from the screen reflects on your skin. you have to harshly claw at the skin of your knee to stop it from anxiously bouncing; you force yourself not to also gag when the you on the screen chokes and gags. 

“was this reported to you,” you swallow the lump in your throat, shifting your stare to the man in suit and tie. “or did you find it on your own?” 

“miss ____,” he leans in on the table, clasping his hands together. the golden band around his finger shines under the dim lighting of his office. “do you even understand the kind of trouble you’re in?” 

“am i being fired?”

“but you don’t have to be.” he bares his teeth as if he’s delivering good news. you long to destroy his face and his condescension with your bare hands. “i believe we can agree on an arrangement.”

“what do you mean…?” you ask carefully, grasping the tiny bit of hope that what you have in mind isn’t what he meant. 

“i think you know what i mean. you’re smart.”

your heart drops to your stomach when he side-eyes the screen.

“do you expect me to beg for my job and do the same things i did in the video?” 

“why?” his tone then becomes threatening. you begin to hear your heartbeat thumping loud in your chest. “you won’t do it?” 

but if you allow yourself to be intimidated and treated less than a human being worthy of dignity and respect, then you may never be able to forgive yourself. 

your sharp eyes and your cutting words make up for its trembles.

“you’re right, i’m smart. i know you don’t have enough grounds to fire me. you seriously think you can manipulate me this easy?” you contemptuously push over his name plate, the bronze metal tumbling and clashing with the wooden desk. “you’re not qualified for this job.” 

your dismissal of his authority bruises his ego. he holds you in a hostile glare.

“if i were you, i would stop talking. right now.” 

“or what?” you challenge him. “you’ll hit me…? what would your wife think when she hears about this conversation?” 

his face is contorted with anger and frustration, but he is visibly holding himself back from doing something else that would damage his career. 

“i plan on suing the people who are responsible for this. i’d appreciate it if-” you gesture at the monitor. “you can delete your copy too. i’ll clean my table and leave.” 

“you have a real attitude problem, you know that? you need your eyes opened to the reality of life.” the alarms in your head starts blaring when he slowly gets up from his seat. “i think i know what i need to do to fix it.” 

“don’t you dare touch me.” you grit your teeth, tears welling in your eyes as he circles his desk. “i will kill you.” 

he squats on the floor beside you, wearing a mocking grin. you want to move away, but the chair is too small, and you’re determined to show him that you have no fear. 

“you’ll kill me?” 

he grabs a fistful of your hair, tilting your head back, and a scream is ripped out from your throat. the pain is mind-numbing; if he does it long enough, your guess is that you’d surely faint. he forces your head to the direction of the monitor. 

“who you should be killing is the man who put you in this situation.” 

you close your eyes. you try not to let him get under your skin, but the tears rolling down your cheeks are your self-made traitors. 

you have. in your head. a million times. is it truly a man? is he even alone? 

as you tiredly re-open your eyes, you unleash the pepper spray you’ve been holding under your thigh and begin spraying it all over his face. when he collapses on the floor, screaming and clawing at his own skin, your hand also falls limp over the armrest. you take a deep breath, blinking at the mess you made with heavy eyelids. 

does it hurt that much or is he simply dramatic?

you’d stay and enjoy his demise, but you decide he’s not worth your time. 

“____, come back here!” 

“oh-” you freeze on your tracks. 

you pull the lace of your company id over your head, hurling it at his face. he rolls over with an agonized groan. 

“i quit!” 

you unlock the door, dry your tears, and walk out of his office with your chin held high.

—

you stand at jungkook’s door, staring down at your shoes. you’ve been contemplating on whether you should knock or not. you want nothing more but to crawl into his arms, but a part of you is holding back. is it right to drag him into your world? you’d hate it if he becomes infected by your sadness. it broke you to pieces when he cried because he thought you were hurt. what would his reaction be if finds out what happened tonight? 

“____!”

jungkook approaches with a plastic bag from a 24/7 restaurant nearby. judging by his tousled hair, he must’ve just woken up from a long nap. and you think to yourself—he’s so handsome—as he walks over to you and you scramble to collect yourself. 

“have you been waiting long? sorry, i had to buy dinner.”  

“i just got here.” you deny. 

“is that so?” he stops infront of you, eyeing your outfit. “is everything alright? you’re home from work so early.”

“i went home.” you force a smile. “i’m not feeling so well.”

it takes everything in you not to cry when he starts stroking your hair with the gentlest hand. 

“what’s wrong…?” he frowns. he worriedly presses the back of his hand on your forehead, then your neck. “you are a bit hot.”

“i think i just need some more sleep.” you dismiss the topic quickly, throwing your arms around his neck for the hug you’ve been yearning for since you walked out of that office. 

his free arm wraps around waist, pulling you taut against him. he doesn’t ask you anything. like you, he closes his eyes, and he nuzzles his cheek against you, not taking any second for granted. 

  —

  you spend the remaining days before saturday locked up in your apartment, withholding the fact that you quit your job from jungkook. with work gone and social media apps wiped out from your phone, there’s not much to do. just like always, you feed the fishes and converse throughout the day over the phone. they eat less and less as the weather gets colder. you bring up the growing size of the fishes and he agrees that they should be moved into a bigger tank soon. he sends you photos of him bored in class and you send him photos of you in bed. every second that passes by, you feel guilty for holding on to him until the very end. 

you greet him with a radiant smile, opening the door just enough for him to see your face. you can tell that he styled his hair, sprayed on more perfume than usual. he looks absolutely dashing. it almost makes you mad. 

“are you ready?” 

you can feel the crushing weight of everything that hides behind the door. your clothes, your shoes, your self-care, your stacks of medical textbooks… your entire life packed in boxes and bags. 

jungkook was right. out of everyone he liked, you must be the most cruel. 

—

he doesn’t take you to his workplace, and instead brings you to their largest competitor. the amusement park is swarmed by locals and tourists alike, waiting for the firework show to commence. you hide your face with a thick scarf wrapped around your neck. you’ve been waiting, freezing, in line for over an hour, but you don’t mind it at all. it only means more time spent with jungkook. 

you take turns in biting on the pretzel he bought to get rid of your boredom, happy and content in your shared bubble among the hundreds of voices within the vicinity conversing all at once. you become the other half of those lovey-dovey couples people cringe at in public. every now and then you and jungkook mimic a stranger’s voice, or the instrumental music from the nearby rides, and you laugh until your tummies ache. he hugs you to warm you up and you reward him with a kiss on the cheek. 

“your hair looks even prettier in person.” jungkook compliments you with stars in his eyes. 

“thank you! it turned out better than i expected. i’m really happy about it.” you gush, confidence renewed. you eat the last piece of the pretzel happily. “red or pink?”

“okay, red does suit you better,” he admits. “but i still think you were also beautiful in pink.” 

“since you’re always saying that, i’m starting to believe it.” 

“you should, because it’s true.”

“have i ever told you that you’re handsome?”

he shakes his head with a half-amused, half-sheepish smile. 

“well, you’re very handsome,” you declare playfully, but you believe it a hundred percent. 

“thank you,” he bursts into a fit of giggles, and it delivers you a special kind of joy— making him happy.

“lemonade?” he offers you the drink he’s holding. 

you slot the straw between your lips, taking a few sips. your eyes widen in surprise, also delight. “it’s hot?” 

“it’s good, right? i feel so warm.” 

he sips on the drink himself. at the same moment, the line begins to move. 

“oh! it’s our turn!”

he grabs a secure hold of your hand, not allowing a slither of chance of you slipping away from him. you give out your tickets, and the remains of them returned, one of them jungkook takes and the other, you slide into the pocket of your shoulder bag.

“oh, it’s too high-”

your nervous pondering is interrupted by a yelp, thanks to jungkook effortlessly lifting you into the moving cabin with his hands on your hips. with a boyish grin, he jumps in after you. 

—

he curiously watches you set up your phone on the parallel side of your shared seat, you and him filmed by the front camera and displayed on the screen. he chooses not to say anything, but he is pleasantly surprised that you are the first one who initiated on recording this memory. 

once you fix it into the perfect angle, you return and sit beside him with a hint of satisfaction painted on your expression. but as soon as the the cabin quakes mildly, it morphs into nervousness. 

“it’s okay, it’s normal.” he strokes the back of your head, reassuring you. “are you afraid of heights?”

you scoot closer to him, and he forgets how to breathe for a moment when you innocently lay your hand just above his knee. “i try not to be.” 

“i was going to suggest the rollercoaster next, but maybe not.”

once again, the cabin moves, causing a whimper to emit from your throat. your nails begin to dig into his thigh, their sharpness dulled by his denim pants. 

“anything but that- i have bad memories with the rollercoaster.”

“maybe i should sit on the other side to balance ourselves bett-”

“stay!” you quickly pull him back down, resulting to another shake. “in my dream, we sit next to each other.”

“oh,” his lips shape into a smirk. “anything else i should know about?”

“you had your arm around me.” you bat your eyelashes.

he does as you request, hugging you to his side.

“like this?”

you shake your head with a sound of disagreement, moving his hand from your arm down to the curve of your waist. 

“you suddenly remember everything.” he remarks with a teasing squeeze of your flesh. 

you sheepishly smile, shrugging. “eh, i remember this much.” 

he loves moments like this— when your innocence rises to the surface and allows him a glimpse of your purest parts. they completely contradict everything your brain leads you to think is for your protection. you don’t want to be alone, and you do want to be held.

amidst his bittersweet musing, the night sky begins to be lit up by a sequence of launched explosives, shooting off glowing embers that descend slowly through the air. 

he jolts on his seat and clings to you as a result.

“ah, that scared me!” he whines in annoyance.

you spare his scaredy-cat moment a short giggle. you barely pay him any mind; you didn’t even look at him. jungkook decides to watch the fireworks from your wonder-filled eyes. the colors soar across your irises— he can’t really differentiate the silver and the gold; there’s also blue and green; a lot of red. 

his view from here is one-of-a-kind. he temporarily mistakes you for a painting. brings out his phone. snaps photos of you like one instinctively does in an art gallery. 

the mortification only sets in when your eyes meet the camera and upon realizing, you give him your dazzling smile. 

“you should watch the fireworks too.” you scold him lightheartedly, redirecting his hands outside. “they’re amazing.”

and he obeys you. 

for a short while.

you catch him longingly gazing at you sooner the second time around. he likes that he doesn’t need to look away anymore because his feelings are already out in the open, and most importantly, reciprocated. he catches your eyes flicker to his lips. he swears this is the most romantic scene of his life. will anything ever come close? you cup his cheek in your delicate hand, bringing your plush lips to his. he wonders how many times you also hesitated to kiss him before. how long would it take before he has kissed you more times than he didn’t?

 

—

jungkook is glued to his phone, walking at a slower pace behind while you search the spacious parking lot for your motorbike. 

the wicked reality he stole you from momentarily waves at him as a reminder that ignoring it doesn’t make it disappear. a notification from a fan that says they found a clip of your video on another social media platform and reported it there too. a notification containing the link. he clicks on the app and finds that his latest video has reached almost half a million views. 

technology has gone too far. how is there no law for this yet??? someone's life is ruined 

what is this. you've totally ruined the video for me

jungkook!! when are you going live again?

everyone stop spreading the video around!!!!!!!!!! report it if you see it!!!!

but how come you suddenly made a ten min vid talking against ai so passionately? do you know this girl personally?? haha

lol? he already talked about ai in a live before. his follower would know that he knows a lot about editing and technology too. hes using his knowledge for good. stop assuming

it was obvious from the start ㅠㅠ the expressions look a bit unnatural. this is unsettling.... i feel so bad for her

um .. am i the only one who doesn't know about this

you're better off not knowing 😭

it's gone viral recently

how? it's all over my feed

his temples throb with a threat of an incoming headache. he can only hope and pray that he didn’t do more harm than good… and by some miracle you don’t find out about this, at least not before he is prepared to see you mad at him again. sharply inhaling, he swipes out of the comment section and tucks his phone back into his small crossbody bag. 

“wait for me!”

he jogs to catch up to you, hurling himself to your back. you are both nearly knocked over if not for him throwing his strong arms around you. 

“you’re so hyper. are you a puppy?” you groan. “go put your helmet on.” 

“this hurts my pride. i said i’m not wearing it again!” 

he is, once again, left with no choice when you forcefully shove your only helmet over his head. 

“calm down, nothing bad will happen anyway.” 

“this feels so wrong.” he continues complaining. “everyone i know owns an extra, just so you know.” 

“well, i never planned on riding with a passenger.” you pull down the visor, sealing the deal. “hold on tight, okay?”

—

how often do you see a man on the road sitting at the back of an expensive motorbike that his cool girlfriend drives? jungkook wishes someone could take a photo and send it to him as a memento because being that man is pretty darn fun. except for the part that you’re not wearing a helmet and he’s also freaking out in the back of his mind, especially when the vehicle tilts even at the slightest. 

but yeah, fun. 

until the rain starts to come down and he ends up numb from the freezing cold. 

your driving speed decreases. you move farther into the center of the lane to avoid the slippery paint on asphalt. 

“jungkook, remove my glasses.” you instruct him urgently. 

“okay!” his arm freezes in the air. “wait, where do i put it?”

“fuck, anywhere. over my head!”

 —

owing it to your driving experience and extreme carefulness of your passenger, you park at your designated parking space safely. by the time you do so, the rain has become a downpour.

“run!” you shout as you both begin to brave it. 

for the record, jungkook tried. 

his shoe slides against the wet and slippery ground and a startled scream leaves his mouth as it all happens too fast. he lands on his butt, but loses balance again and ends up completely lying down in the middle of the parking lot. 

“jungkook!” 

alongside the fierce raindrops, your frantic footsteps bringing you to jungkook contest in creating loud splashes. you get down on your knees, forcibly shaking his frame with yet another call of his name.

“are you okay? where are you hurt?!” 

garnering no response, you resort to giving his face weak slaps. 

“stand up. this isn’t funny.” 

his ears catch you blowing out a sigh, layered underneath is the most adorable growl he has ever heard— reminds him of a tiger cub. there is the lightest trace of smile on his lips as you carry his head over to your lap with utmost gentleness. 

“jungkook!” 

you wipe his rain-soaked face with your rain-soaked hands as if it would do something. he dies of laughter inside. 

“are you being serious right now?!” 

he slowly cracks one eye open, and then the other, greeting you with the most gleeful giggle. he’s so stupidly happy it’s almost painful. chest-restricting. doesn’t help much when you hit his chest, rightfully so, and he laughs harder. 

“ugh, you’re so annoying!” 

his upper body tumbles over again to the wet ground when you return to your feet. the view from here is not that bad. he is losing half his mind from the cold and his eyes are blurry from the rain. it presents itself as the perfect opportunity to say something cheesy about going to heaven, but would an angel nudge him with their foot and say “stand up. we’re totally going to get sick now, you jerk!” before running away? 

in jungkook’s defense, he checked the weather forecast this morning. it’s painfully clear to him now that they lied. the two of you are dripping all over the floor mat in front of the building’s entrance doors. there is no other choice but to wring your clothes here to minimize the trail of mess you will leave behind when you go up to your units. 

you’re squeezing out the water from your hair. he is left with a white t-shirt sticking uncomfortably to his skin as he does the same with his sweater.

the earthy and distinct smell of the rain clings to the air, and therefore, everything.

“jungkook,”

“yes?” he cranes his head to your direction and your eyes connect.

“don’t get sick.” 

“i won’t! i’m healthy. i only get sick once a year.” he boasts with a grin. 

given the length difference, jungkook’s method is messier than yours— he shakes the water out of his hair like a puppy. 

“okay, rude-” you chide at him, flinching away from the shower. 

“oh i’m sorry!” 

didn’t think about that, he winces. 

“aquarium after showering?”

—

“worms make me queasy.” you make a noise of disgust as you dispose of your plastic gloves. 

“but clem loves them.”

“true,” you return beside jungkook, who is watching your five beloved swimmers with pure fascination. “but not as much as coral does.” 

“sometimes i wonder if they’re getting tired of seeing our faces everyday.” 

“i hope not,” you frown.

after all, they’ve taken over a considerable chunk of your daily life for the past half year. you worried more about their meals than your own. you hated it when clementine and dahlia would get scared and hide from you at the beginning. you worked hard to gain their trust. how long will it take for them to forget you? contrary to the three-second memory span myth, you read that they can keep memories for weeks, some claim months, at least five, or even years. 

“yeah, probably not because they associate us with food.” he chuckles.

“that’s true.” 

he straightens up and drops himself on the couch. while you’re alone, you take your time to prepare your heart. 

you try your hardest to look at every little detail of each fish, anything you haven’t seen before. you always loved the way their tail and fins glide and flow as they swim, reminiscent of long hair blowing with the wind. when they play about the shipwreck, it feels you’re being healed. something broken can still be a source of joy.

“i had a wonderful time, by the way.” you turn to jungkook, making your way to where he is. “thank you for tonight.”

“me too. i was so happy.” 

he squeezes you to his side, dipping to press a kiss to your temple. you never understood people who preferred forehead kisses until you met jungkook. a kiss on the lips meant being wanted, and maybe that was everything to you.

“but i’m buying the extra helmet myself tomorrow.”

“you don’t have to do that!”

while he laughs, you force a smile. 

there’s no point. there will be no next time.

“no but thank you for everything, really… my life has been a living nightmare but- but i felt like a person again when i was with you.” 

you take a pause, willing yourself not to cry. you need to tell him everything you haven’t said so you can live with less regrets. 

“you’re such a kind person. i’m sorry that i always lashed out on you too. just because i was hurting doesn’t make it right to hurt you.” 

“why are you talking like that?” he questions you suspiciously. he masks his nervousness with a tone of humor. “it sounds like you’re saying goodbye.”

because you are…

you’ve never been good at goodbyes. the original plan was to leave in the middle of the night without letting him know, leaving a note was an option. either way you know that you will hurt him, and as an admitted coward, you didn’t want to witness that.

but in the future, when you reminisce about him, you don’t want to be overcome with guilt. and when he reminisces about you, you don’t want memories of you to be tainted with bitter resentment. you hope that when either one of you sheds tears, the pain of loss eventually becomes gratitude for what you had momentarily. 

and so, you take a deep breath.

“i need to tell you something.”

he stares back into your eyes without saying anything. in the duration of that silence, jungkook is able to interpret and predict where your shared story is heading. 

“you’re leaving…”

the end.

you never considered that hearing him say it would hurt much more than telling him yourself.

“when?”

“my flight is in six hours. i’m so sorry.” 

you nearly break down into the tears, but you harshly chew on your bottom lip. you can’t cry, not in front of him. you don’t have the right.

“my parents, they finally forgave me… i can continue studying with their help. but no one wants to accept me here anymore, i tried, everywhere… so i’m going back with them to milan.”

“where they work…” he says meekly. he remembers you mentioning it in passing.

“can’t you postpone?” he tries to spark up even a smallest crumb of hope. he places his hand over yours, squeezing lightly. “even just for a day?”

you shake your head, unable to look him in the eyes, but you flip your hand over so you can hold his. and you do. tightly. and when it doesn’t feel enough, you use both hands and you clasp him in between. 

the silence in between is suffocating.

“when will you come back?”

“i don’t know.”

“i can wait-”

“no, you can’t.” you interrupt, looking at him decisively. “you shouldn’t.” 

with hardened features, he challenges your stare. you’re not scared or intimidated. he’s not angry. he’s just… 

“that’s not for you to decide.”

fighting for you.

you’d be a hypocrite if you said that you wished he wouldn’t. 

“jungkook, please, don’t.”

you throw your arms around his neck, hugging him so he won’t be able to see your face and decipher your thoughts. deep inside, with logic thrown outside the window, where all you can see and feel and touch is him, you wish that he would beg and convince you to stay. 

“you’d only waste your time doing that. you’ll meet someone else…” 

those words leave a bitter taste in your mouth. possessive, he jokingly described you once. 

“don’t say that.” he interjects. 

“you deserve to be happy, jungkook. there is so much more to life.”

“i knew- i-i had a feeling you would leave soon. i just didn’t know when.”

a tear drips from your eyelash; you hug him tighter and wipe it off on his shoulder. 

“i wish i could’ve done more.” he utters regretfully. “to help you. and comfort you. you endured everything on your own…”

“you believed me and you stayed with me. you did more than everybody else.” 

taking away the science of it, it’s common knowledge that a hug has wondrous healing effects. it’s one of those things that we naturally learn through experience, feeling. the hormone and neurotransmitter oxytocin can affect how we feel and respond to pain. studies say that it kicks in for hugs that last at least six to twenty seconds. 

“will you be okay there?” he whispers. he’s gently stroking the expanse of your back and it feels like getting tucked into bed.

by now, you’ve been hugging jungkook for over twenty seconds, and you realize that the time is irrelevant. perhaps what they are referring to are the hugs you wouldn’t mind staying in forever. 

“i’m scared,” you confess. “but i’ll be okay.”

a glimpse at the aquarium and enters a silly, gutwrenching thought. 

“you know… maybe in another life,” you peek fondly into a future that may very well never exist. “we’re old and married, and we have a big pond instead of an aquarium.”

jungkook draws back and stares you down with his tearful eyes. 

you clear your throat, face going warm with regret. “sorry-”

“you’re impossible-” he mutters before leaning in to kiss you. 

you’re frozen at first, mind going blank, until he’s kissing you deeper, gripping your waist tighter, with intense emotions you’ve never felt him express before, and you are forced to remember that this kiss is a goodbye. 

your hands around his neck fall over his shoulders, and you grant him the power to let you fall into the abyss where nothing else exists but the two of you. 

you stop worrying about the time ticking. 

you do not think about pulling away. 

he is the one who breaks the kiss and your heart is broken. 

his gaze is heaving with longing as does his aching chest. “why can’t it be in this life?”

you think this is when the gravity of the situation comes crashing down on you. jungkook is once in a lifetime. he is the person you will dedicate a memoir to when you reach the point in life where the only thing left to do is to look back. revealing the closet full of skeletons of who you were and who you will never become. he will be the subject of your what if’s, the other main character of the alternate version of your life story. the cynics will clamor, your time together was too short for it to have meant something, ignorant of the most lamentable grief— and you will envy them for it.

the corners of your mouth are lifted into a wistful smile. “fate made us meet at the wrong time, when i’m the wrong person for us.”

  —

when you arrive at your apartment, you are deprived of the privacy to break down. your brother and your family driver, mister lee, have only begun hauling your bags and boxes. you try to ignore their presence, head straight to the bathroom, but as always, your brother doesn’t allow you peace. 

“are you seriously bringing your motorbike too?”

you take a deep breath to compose yourself, but you still end up gritting your teeth. “it’s mine.”

“it’s too expensive to have it shipped-”

“shut up, you’re not the one paying for it.” 

you turn on your heel, but you become rooted into place when you hear jungkook’s name. 

“that boy you were with- jungkook, is it?”

you face with him a look of suspicion, eyebrows furrowing. “why do you care?”

he casually leans against the kitchen cabinet, hands tucked into his jeans’ pockets. “he must genuinely like you a lot to make that video. the tide has turned because of him.”

“wh-what are you saying?” you sputter. “what video?”

he narrows his eyes at you. “you don’t know what i’m talking about?”

“are you fucking with me again?” 

“yeah- okay, nevermind.” he dismisses the topic, straightening up to pick up one of the boxes that will be carried to his car. 

“moon!” you irritatedly shout his name, throwing the first thing that your hand touches. the comb hits his back before falling on the floor with a smack. “what is it?!” 

“god, ___! it’s nothing! forget about it!” he barks, going straight for the front door with two boxes stacked in his arms. “go and make sure you didn’t forget to pack anything. i don’t need you nagging me when a package gets lost on its way to milan.” 

you’re obviously having a hard time. can’t he go a little gentler on you? 

“and cover your face.”

“does it matter? i’m already leav-”

“dad asked for it— not me. just do it, ____.”

you weakly slump back against the wall. you have no fight left in you today. you’d like to commend yourself for making it this far, surviving the worst of the worst and having the courage to come out of the tunnel, but you fail to make the distinction between being strong and becoming jaded. 

“ma’am-” mister lee offers you a handkerchief. “i found it in one of the drawers. did you mean to leave it behind?” 

you shake your head, and with a cold, shaky hand, you take it from his open palm. 

once the tears begin to slide down your cheeks, there is no more stopping them. 

as a sign of respect to you, he also leaves the room. 

you choke back a sob, clutching to your chest— the handkerchief you were never sure if you were given or you stole. 

—

jungkook’s tears glimmer from the lighter’s dancing flame. after several clicks, he manages to light up the cigarette. he isn’t innocent–after all he’s already an adult—but it’s a habit he makes an effort to avoid. surely, he can give himself a pass today, though. he’s heartbroken, and he feels pathetic enough hanging out in the alleyway you frequented. 

he blankly stares at the lighter you believe you lost due to your carelessness. thinking back to your words from earlier, he’s furious at how calm you appeared. it was an easy decision— leaving him behind.

the rain has stopped, but raindrops collected by the roof still trickle to the ground and clang against metal pipes.  

with trembling lips, he exhales the smoke— a sob threatens to be ripped from his throat and he roughly covers his mouth to stop it. 

what could possibly be the lesson he’s supposed to learn from this pain? 

he didn’t know where else to go. at his apartment, he’d feel you leave. at the lobby, he’d see you leave. he’d go far, but he doesn’t want to be too far. until the very end, he is at your disposal. 

you could’ve been the one. no, he desperately wanted you to be the one. if you had stayed, he would’ve loved you as often as he breathed— but your paths intertwined only to be unraveled. 

some sadistic tool, fate is. what was the point of finding you again? 

a passerby’s fleeting shadow blocks all sources of light casted over jungkook’s secret place.

you wear your only carry-on, a duffle bag, around your body. 

you cross the street with unhurried steps. 

as you climb into your getaway car, jungkook flicks off the ash from the cigarette held between his fore and middle fingers. 

the tires roll over the wet asphalt, leaving behind a hissing echo. your brother’s car follows suit.

thirty-five, thirty-six… jungkook anxiously counts the vehicles he hears driving away.

was one of them you? 

…are you gone?

[zepskies]

Lost on You - Part 10

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Supe!Reader

Summary: 1983 is a big year for you. You’re finally chosen to join the ranks of Payback, led by the most (in)famous supe in the world: Soldier Boy. He’ll never admit that he’s trying his damndest to figure you out. You’ll never admit that he’s actually growing on you. But the problem with this game is deciding who’s the predator, and who is prey.

AN: And we’re back! In today’s episode, we have a very special guest. 😉

Also, just so you guys know, my podcast interview with the Idling in the Impala podcast is now live! For all the timestamps of key moments, fic recs, and SPN writer shoutouts, see this post (you'll find the link to the video there too).

Song Inspo: “Wicked Game” by Chris Isaak

Word Count: 6.5K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, angst, drug use, PTSD, violence, and another big reveal…

🎵 YouTube Playlist || Spotify Playlist

🎙️ Series Masterlist

Part 10: I Need a Hero

Revenge could wait for one more day.

It all can wait, Ben thought. Despite how vehement he was yesterday, today, he was reminded of how good it felt to sleep in a warm bed with a beautiful woman. 

He laid there behind you, on his side. He’d woken up to the sound of music somewhere downstairs, maybe in the dining room.

What time is it? It was hard to remember to keep track of that now, even with the digital clock on the nightstand. It was only midnight, but to his body, it felt like morning.

You were dead asleep. Occasionally you let out soft hums, and other semi-arousing sounds. His lips tugged upward.

Still moans in her sleep.

He drew down the comforter and sheets slowly from your back. He was greeted by smooth skin, except where some marks had been made permanent. His fingers traced carefully over a rough, scarred patch of skin above your hip, as if you had been tased there repeatedly.

His jaw clenched. He could still remember the sounds he used to hear—your screams through the walls of the compound. He remembered when you eventually stopped begging for it all to stop.

“You’re saying this is my fucking fault?!” he said. “Yes! It is your fault. Because you’re too much of a mean, callous, arrogant, entitled, selfish, fucking asshole to see that everybody hates you!” you spat. 

For so long after that day, he hated you. He told himself that he didn’t give a shit about whatever was happening to you, because you clearly didn’t give a shit about him.

But the long months wore on to longer years, alone in the dark. Too often, your words would rattle through his head, reach through his chest with ragged claws. No matter how much he fought it, all he had time to do when he was alone, was think.

He vacillated between stubborn, angry indignation, and rethinking every interaction he had with you, with Countess, the rest of the team, and beyond. Slowly, he allowed himself to retrace his steps. If only in his mind, he began to regret certain things…at least where it came to you.

Ignoring you was both harder and easier, since he couldn’t see you.

That all changed a few days ago.

Eisenstein returned to his cell, but this time he wasn’t alone. Two guards held you bound and gagged. You were just as shocked to see him as he was you.

It felt like he was suspended in time.

He saw the signs of aging in your face, but it didn’t matter. Even now, you were beautiful.

The spell of it broke when they threw you down onto the metal table usually reserved for him. He saw now that they had you in a straitjacket to keep your hands covered. The anger built inside him, almost incandescent in his veins.

“What the fuck is this?”

 The doctor held a glass syringe in his gloved hand. He drew closer to you with slow, measured steps.

A realization soon dawned on Ben, no matter how much he didn’t want to admit it. He saw your terror, the way you wordlessly pleaded with him, asking for help with your eyes.

Part of him still hated you, but he couldn’t take it. He wouldn’t allow this sick bastard to hurt you again. Not right the fuck in front of him.

You were still his.

His hand traveled down your bare shoulder, over the gentle slope of your side, and down the curve of your hip under the covers. You shifted and hummed, edging toward wakefulness. Ben settled in from behind, protectively embracing his body around yours in a perfect fit. He began kissing along your neck, slowly.

“Hmmm I’m sleeping,” you said, keeping your eyes closed. He smirked. His lips became more insistent, along with his hand spanning your thigh.

“Wake up, then,” he said. He teased the shell of your ear with his tongue, dragged your earlobe between his teeth. You shivered.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” you retorted, smiling.

Ben huffed. “Yeah, keep being a fucking brat. That’ll get me to stop.”

His beard rasped against your skin as his lips found a path down the column of your throat. Acquiescing to open your eyes, you sighed, tilting your head back to give him more room. Meanwhile, his cock pressed insistently against your ass.

You smirked and shifted your hips, grinding back against him. “Maybe I like working you up.”

“Oh yeah?” He moved your thigh over his to spread your legs for him. There the warm, blunt tip of his cock pressed at your entrance, nudging you open with shallow thrusts. You moaned in response, reaching back to slip a hand in his hair.

You were a wanton little thing, he thought, even as he reached around to bury his fingers in your pussy. Already finding wetness between your folds, he gathered some of it and rolled your clit smoothly between his fingers. You gasped his name, your hips bearing down against him.

He took the opportunity to sheathe himself all the way inside you, until his hips were snug against your ass. You made a sound of pleasure that had his balls clenching on reflex. Your voice was a curse, even without your powers.

For once, he fucked into you slowly, with long, unhurried strokes that still managed to rock the bed. Ben was surprised the frame and springs hadn’t given up yet.

“You’re fucking mine, you hear me?” he said, close to your ear. He punctuated his words with deeper thrusts. “Say you understand.”

“Yes,” you agreed on a gasp.

“Yes, what?” He laid more tantalizing kisses along your neck and jawline. “Tell me.”

“I’m yours,” you said, in a coarse whisper. Ben claimed your lips in a kiss, before he kept moving inside you in languid strokes.

You were a moaning mess, your eyes squeezed shut. You grabbed at your breasts and kneaded them yourself, rolling and pinching your nipples. He strummed more insistently on your clit, until he felt your inner walls finally start to throb around him.

Your orgasm hit you in a slow, long wave as you pressed your face into your pillow. And you clenched so impossibly tight on his cock, it triggered his release as well. His arm curled around your middle and pressed you tight against him as he uttered a sharp grunt. He finished hot inside you, panting heavily into your neck afterward.

“Well, good morning,” you quipped, despite trying to catch your breath as well.

Ben’s hazy reverie broke into a chuckle. He dropped a lingering kiss onto your shoulder.

“It’s the middle of the night,” he corrected.

You shrugged. “Whatever.”

When he pulled out of you, you shivered a little. He rolled onto his back, and regardless of the mess in the sheets, you turned over to rest your elbow on his pillow, leaning over him.

“I should probably tell you something,” you said.

He eyed you in suspicion. “What now?” 

You smiled and laid a hand on his chest, dragging your nails through the fuzz there.

“My family’s from Brooklyn, not a small town in Indiana,” you confessed. "Made it up to make me seem more...down to earth. Doe-eyed and likeable."

Ben’s brows shot up. He took a moment to process that information, then he shook his head.

“Fucking figures.” His arm lowered to curl around your lower back, caging you against him.

“I grew up in a brownstone that we had to share with two other families,” you said.

“So you were broke.”

“Yep. When I was born, my family spent all their savings to contract with Vought, to give me Compound V,” you explained. “Their plan was something like, if I became a famous superhero one day, I’d bring us out of our shitty life.”

Ben sighed, shaking his head. “So they pimped you out to Vought.”

“Essentially,” you said. You paused. He could see it was difficult for you, but you talked more about your life—the expectations from your parents, the training, the grueling schedules and the robbing of your childhood. 

“When my mom died, I…I realized just how much they took from me,” you said, gazing up at him. “Isn’t that horrible?”

Again, Ben shook his head. His hand had been caressing up and down your back, but it stopped now. Part of him was still reluctant, but he told you about the biggest lie of his life. That he hadn’t grown up poor or struggling. That his father practically owned half of Pennsylvania, and Ben had been a spoiled rich kid. He’d also gotten kicked out of boarding school after starting a fight.

“My father said I wasn’t worthy of his name,” he said, with a wry turn of his lips. “So I went out, talked to some of his golf buddies in the War department, and got myself into the Vought program. I became Soldier Boy.”

You listened with rapt attention. Not interrupting him, just giving him the time he needed to find his words.

“When I came home after the war, my mother was just as proud as she’d ever been,” he recounted. But he didn’t smile. “My father took a good look at me, maybe for the first time in my life. And you know what he said?”

You gave him a questioning look, silently prodding.

“He said I took a short cut. ‘A real man wouldn’t have cheated,’” he said.

When he eventually met your gaze, you at least didn’t look pitying. Just understanding.

“I guess we both have daddy issues, huh?” you said.

Ben shook his head. Then he eyed you. “You don’t look that surprised by all this.”

You smiled, a little sheepish. You stroked your thumb across his chin.

“I can sense when a man is lying to me, remember?” you said pointedly. “I clocked you a long time ago, pal. Mostly any time you told some fake war story... You didn't fight in the war, did you?”

He frowned in offence, even though you both knew he couldn’t deny it.

"I was there," he said.

You gave him a knowing look. "Ben."

"I fucking would've, all right, but by the time I got there it was pretty much..." He waved a dismissive hand. His brows were crunched along with his worsening frown. You felt his embarrassment, and as a result, his agitation. You were glad to finally get the truth in his own words, but you didn't want to work him up in that way either.

You tried softening him with a kiss to his cheek. You rubbed a soothing hand over his arm.

“So what do you want to do when we get our lives back?” you asked, purposefully changing the subject. “After the whole payback thing.”

Ben sat up with you against the headboard. His upset slowly faded away with your ministrations, your gentle touch, and his expression fell into contemplation.

“I always thought I had time, but uh…I thought I’d eventually settle down. Have a couple of rugrats of my own. Raise a family,” he said. “Thought I could do it better than my old man.”

You tilted your head at him with a certain measure of surprise. Out of everything he might’ve said, that one didn’t occur to you. Although, with his upbringing, you supposed it made sense. You smiled.

“You might have a few of those out there somewhere,” you said.

He chuckled. “I've always thought so.”

He looked at you in a way he hadn’t before, a bit gentler, with something else you couldn’t name. Your face warmed as something fluttered in your lower belly.

“So tell me then. What do you want?” he asked.

Once you worked through that bit of nerves, you thought about his question. It took you longer than you thought it would to come up with an answer, but when you did, it was the most honest thing you could think of.

“I want to be happy.”

He paused, not expecting that answer. Then he nodded, with a short hum.

You sighed. “Okay, if you really want to go after Vought, I think I have an idea of where we should start.”

I can’t believe it. This thing still fits me pretty well, you thought. You twisted in the mirror to examine yourself in your old black and violet supe suit, though you didn't bother with the mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was already with your generous host, sat with widespread legs on the couch while he smoked a large blunt. His smoke coiled out lazily.

“You gotta believe me, I didn’t know what they were planning,” said Arthur Cohen. AKA: The Legend. He had been forced into a chair, though Ben hadn’t bothered tying him up. The man knew better than to make a false move. He was a decade older, and lucky for him, even wiser.

His penthouse apartment in New York looked more or less the same. Hit records and old successful movie posters adorned the walls, like a true has-been.

“Yeah, you said that fifty fucking times already,” Ben snarked. “What you haven’t said, is why.”

“To be honest, I never asked,” Arthur said. His expression soured. “Stillwell and Stan Edgar shivved me out of that decision, those uppity fucks. Then they got me fired on some technicality.”

“Allegations of embezzlement, or so I heard,” you said, reentering the room.

Arthur raised a finger. “Not true. That money was well earned backpay.”

You rolled your eyes.

“You know I know you’re lying, right?” You approached the men and crossed your arms. “What’s the lay of the land now?”

“Well, Stillwell’s the new me. Stan’s the new CEO. They disbanded Payback after you disappeared. The others are either working new gigs or are in early retirement. But I heard Vought’s working up to creating a new team.”

You nodded and shared a glance with Ben. He looked a little too chilled out right now. Apparently, Arthur had the good stuff.

“Before we jump into the frying pan with this, I want to go see my family,” you said. “Would you…want to go with me?”

Ben blew out more smoke, gesturing at Arthur. “I’ll keep this one company until he finds our old team. Make sure he doesn’t fuck off to Rio.”

You felt the sting of disappointment, but you sighed and agreed.

“Just…wait for me to get back before you go anywhere,” you said. You saw Ben prickle a little at being “told” what to do. You lowered down to his lips.

“Please?” you said, plying him with a kiss, and a gentle squeeze of his hand. “I’ll be back soon.”

He tightened his hand on yours. His gaze drew over you, briefly with more clarity through his high.

“Fine,” he said. “Be careful.”

You nodded with a smile, giving him one more kiss goodbye.

Your father was the longer drive north than your brother’s house in Queens, so you headed up to find the former first after borrowing a car from Arthur. According to him, your father had moved upstate to Albany after your “death.” 

Now, you understood why.

He lived in a two-story house on a whole acre of land, complete with three cars, a pool, and oh yeah, his new girlfriend. She looked good hanging off his arm in Atlantic City, as you saw from a picture on the wall—after you broke into the house, that is. To be fair, they’d left the sliding glass door open in the backyard.

Your dad was dressed like he just got home from the golf course, walking over from the kitchen to the living room. He dropped his glass of wine in shock when he saw you standing there, admiring the only framed picture of you, your mother, and Chris on one of the display shelves. Glass shattered across the hardwood floor.

“Hey, Dad,” you said. You turned to him, not bothering to hide your disdain.

He gaped for a few seconds as he tried and failed to make his mouth work. He pointed at you with a shaking hand, your name finally falling from his lips.

“It’s a beautiful place,” you said. You gestured widely at your surroundings. “It’s nice to see that you finally got what you wanted.”

He tried to go to you, to embrace you, but you held out a hand. Your lips trembled as you fought the onslaught of your emotions. If he touched you, you might not have been able to control your actions.

“Did you give any of the settlement money to Chris and his family? Or did my death just make you rich,” you asked.

Your father’s eyes closed. He released a heavy sigh before he was able to meet your gaze again.

“He wouldn’t take any of it,” he admitted.

Your tears stung in your eyes as you smiled a little. “Sounds like him.”

“Where have you been?” he asked. “Are you okay? Do you need help?”

Again, he tried to get closer to you, and again, you held him off.

“The only thing I need from you is to keep doing what you’re doing,” you said. “Keep living your life like you no longer have a daughter.”

With that, you stalked out of the house and shot out the door, back to your car, no matter how much he called out after you. You got into the driver’s seat and beat the wheel once, twice, venting your frustrations. But you forced yourself to take in deep breaths to calm yourself. You wiped the tears from your eyes.

He wasn’t worth it.

You wondered if you should go see Chris though. Would it be safe for him and his family? Was Vought watching them as a contingency, if you ever escaped?

You weren’t sure. You rucked through your purse lying in the passenger seat for the weird “cell” phone Arthur had lent you. You wanted to check in with Ben first, before you went anywhere else.

You started to dial, but a gloved hand shot out and injected a needle into your neck. You startled at the sharpness and the feeling of a chemicals rushing through your body. Your eyes darted to the rearview mirror.

All you saw was a blurry, black mask.

Meanwhile, Ben was fucking plastered.

He had been ever since you left yesterday morning. In his unrest, he’d moved on to a handful of whatever opiates Arthur kept in his medicine cabinet.

Christ I’m fucking bored.

He glanced down at the phone in his lap. The one Arthur gave him, along with a list of numbers that had been taped to the fridge. The first number on the list was the cell phone you were carrying. Ben read the rest of them.

Pizza place. Chinese. Swedish massage—hmm, there’s an idea. Handy man. BEST escort service…

Ben rose a brow. An inebriated smile curved his lips.

“What makes it the best escort service?” he asked, and loudly. Enough that Arthur came over from where he’d been making calls in his office, trying to find the rest of his former teammates’ whereabouts.

Arthur raised a brow at him. “You sure that’s a good idea right now?”

Ben shot him a terse warning look. The other man raised his hands.

“Eh, I’m three times divorced. What do I know?” he said, but he sighed and gave Ben a long look. “It just seems to me that you and Sirena got a good thing goin’, that’s all.”

The thought of you managed to cut through the haze of drugs clouding Ben’s mind. He frowned.

“That’s how Missus #1 caught me, with one of my ex-assistants in the jacuzzi,” Arthur said, with a mild grimace on his face. “She got that house in the divorce. Well, that and the kids.”

Ben looked over at him blankly.

Heaving a sigh, Arthur went back to his office.

Ben glanced down at the list of numbers in his hand, and the cell phone in the other. What the fuck was taking you so long then?

He dialed the first number on the list—your number. It rang several times, but you never answered. He called you again, waited a few minutes, then called you a third time. You weren’t answering.

His frown worsened, along with a suspicious prickling up his spine. Fuck...

He'd felt it the moment he let go of your hand, but he'd been too out of his mind to actually listen to his instincts; the same ones that warned him not to let you out of his sight. And more importantly, not to let you go.

He got up from the couch and stormed into Arthur’s office, shoving the door open. Arthur jumped in his seat. 

“What? What’s the matter?”

“She’s not picking up the fucking phone,” Ben said. He paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Arthur didn’t ask him the predictable question: how do you know? He just took in the look on the supe’s face and knew it wouldn’t be wise arguing. He tried calling your father's home, but all the man would say was, "She left. She's gone."

Arthur hung up with the man, and for a long moment, he sat pensively while Ben angrily paced the small office, like a tiger confined in its enclosure.

“It’s possible that Vought knows you guys made it back,” Arthur said. At the dark look on Ben’s face, the other man rubbed his chin with a sigh. “Okay. I’ll try to track her down for ya. In the meantime, I’ve got Countess’s address. Maybe she'll even have an idea of where to look for Sirena.”

He slid a piece of paper toward Ben across his desk. He grabbed it, pointing a threatening finger at Arthur.

“Find her.”

You woke with a groan. You knew a drugging when you felt one, and this was it. Someone had given you a powerful sedative.

You were alone in a white padded cell, lying on a cot. It was all too familiar.

Except for the tall figure in black standing in the middle of the room, watching you. You gasped with a jolt, pressing your back against the wall after you sat up. You almost couldn’t believe your eyes.

“Irving?”

Black Noir stepped closer until he was sitting beside you on the cot. Tentatively, he raised a hand up to touch your cheek with gentle, gloved fingers.

Your shock gave way to anger. You slapped his hand away.

“What are you doing?!” you said sharply.

Noir backed off at once, as if you’d struck him a real blow. He got up, went over and grabbed a dry erase board that had been lying against the far wall, along with a marker off the floor. He wrote something down on it, then he showed you.

You shouldn’t have come back to NY.

You frowned, both at what he “said,” and in confusion. Why wouldn’t he just talk to you?

“What did you expect?” you asked incredulously. “For me and Ben just to disappear forever? To let you keep ruining our lives?”

Noir paused at that. He tilted his head with a long look at you. With your abilities, you were able to sense that he was disheartened, and even angry. He erased the board with his arm and wrote something else.

Do you love him?

You blinked at the question.

“Who?” you asked, even though you knew.

Soldier Boy

Emotion rose high in your throat, but you worked past it with a swallow, and a deep breath.

“That’s none of your business,” you said.

Noir just stared at you, his head tilting forward. The longer he stood there, watching you, waiting for an answer, the longer you prickled with unease.

He erased the board and wrote the same question again. He held it out for you to see, shaking it once in emphasis.

Do you love him?

You hesitated, but you didn’t want to lie anymore, even to yourself.

“Yes, I do,” you said. “I know what he’s done, believe me, but he isn’t a monster.”

Noir’s head twitched. You felt his anger intensify. He dropped the board onto the floor, startling you, but all he did next was slowly raise his hands to take off his helmet. He showed you what was left of his mottled, disfigured face—the burnt skin and the divot in his skull that had never fully healed.

Your mouth parted in shock as tears sprung in your eyes. You tried to avert them, but Noir stepped forward and grabbed your jaw, turning your face up to his and forcing you to look. Your lips trembled, but you met his gaze unflinchingly.

When he seemed to be satisfied, he released you and stepped back. He placed his helmet back on.

“I understand why you hate him,” you said at last. “But you made your choice when you let them take me too. You…you changed everything for me.”

You were satisfied to feel a lance of Noir’s guilt. You had scars too, and most of them weren’t physical.

“I’m not going to apologize for my choices now,” you said, with a firm glare. “So unless you’re going to kill me, you can fuck off, before I scramble what’s left of your head.”

Your eyes glowed with your power. You opened your mouth to begin your siren’s song, but Noir turned on his heel and exited the door, leaving you alone in the cell.

A fucking chimp sanctuary. Really? Ben thought as he broke into the boundary of the reserve. About a quarter mile into the tall grass, he found a large, if rundown country style house in the middle of the woods.

“Yes, Big Daddy. I’m almost ready for you. Just let me heat these up…”

Ben raised a brow, but he gritted his teeth and kicked through the front door. There she was, Crimson Countess in all her glory, holding a set of anal beads.

She gasped at the sight of him, but she ignored the “client” on speaker on her landline phone, and dropped the beads so she could aim a fiery blast at the intruder.

Ben jumped out of the way and tossed his shield. It hit her square in the chest and sent her flying back into the wall, destroying a bookshelf and the dining table. He walked over to it with slow, heavy steps.

She raised her head with a groan, but then, her eyes watered with disbelief…and fear, when she looked up at him.

“Ben?” she said. “My God…it’s really you, isn’t it? You... you look the same.”

“You don't,” he remarked. He lowered down to grab her by the collar of her suit and raise her out of the rubble.

“How much did the Russians pay you, Donna?” he asked calmly.

She struggled to escape, her nails scraping at his gloved hand. He tightened his hold.

“They didn’t,” she admitted. Tears leaked from her eyes under her mask.

“They didn’t pay you anything?” he said through clenched teeth. “Then why?”

You know why, came sneaking voice in his mind. He tried to pay it no heed, but Donna sneered at him.

“Because,” she spat. “I fucking hated you. We all did.”

Ben’s lips pulled at a humorless smirk. His chest prickled with heat. “I should’ve known you were a bunch of sniveling, backstabbing, fucking cowards.”

“Kill me then,” she taunted. “Is that gonna make you feel better? Going to make you feel less empty inside?”

Ben’s chest began to get that nuclear glow, but he managed to fight it down, back into embers.

“Not yet,” he said. He drew her in closer. She held onto his wrist, her feet scrambling over the debris on the floor.

“I need to find someone,” he said. “And you’re going to help me.”

Ben and Donna sat across from each other on her living room couch, with the landline sat between them. The phone was on speaker as it rang. The longer it took, the more annoyed he became.

“This better work,” he said. She gave him a flat look.

Finally, a woman answered the phone.

“Good afternoon. Stan Edgar’s office. How may I assist you?”

“Hi Gloria, it’s me, Donna,” she said. “I need to speak with Stan as soon as possible, please.”

“Ooh, I’m afraid he’s in a meeting.”

“Trust me, he’s going to want to take this call.”

“Hmm, I’m afraid his next availability isn’t until next week. And next month if you want an in-person meeting.”

“Just tell him to call me back asap!” She said, hanging up the phone in a huff. Ben gave her an unimpressed look.

“That was your big fucking plan?” he said.

She huffed. “You think breaking into Vought is going to be easy? Let alone finding that weasel. He’s got the best security money can buy, and by the way, finding where they’re keeping your little girlfriend isn’t going to be any easier. They could’ve stashed her literally anywhere by now.”

You think I don’t fucking know that? Ben got up from the couch with an angry breath. He turned away from her and rubbed at his beard in contemplation. He shouldn’t have let you go anywhere alone.

I should’ve been there. The thought gripped him, deep in his gut. Guilt was an unfamiliar, uncomfortable feeling.

“We’re going to need help,” Donna said.

His bad mood took a turn for the worst. He glanced back at her.  

“What, the rest of the fucking Scooby gang?” he snarked.

“Or you can try going in alone, guns blazing,” she shrugged. Her sharpened gaze met his. “How fast do you think they’ll kill her, just to spite you?”

Ben’s jaw clenched. Donna leaned back in her seat and crossed her arms.

“Or worse. They’ll put you back in a box and ship you back to the Russians,” she said. Her snide smile had him clenching his teeth. “Either way, you’ll never see her again.”

With everything in his being, Ben wanted to fry this bitch to Kingdom Come.

“Get up,” he ordered. “Pack a bag. We’re leaving.”

Donna’s expression fell. “What?"

"You heard me!" he barked, grabbing her arm to pull Donna to her feet. "Get the fuck up."

She struggled against his grip. "Where’re we going?”

“To find those fucking Twins.”

They took her car, a tiny sedan. Evidently, the end of Payback hadn’t been good for Donna’s career. Arthur had told him that, irony of ironies, she now sang at a Soldier Boy tribute act at Voughtland to pay her bills. And as he’d seen earlier, she needed to pad her income in other ways.

She was driving them up to Vermont. It was going to take days, and Ben was already sick of her.

It was a small blessing when they stopped at a gas station in the nighttime. She gave him her credit card to buy some snacks for the road while she filled up the tank. (He took the keys with him as insurance that she wouldn't bolt with the car.)

He returned with a far bigger bag than she expected. She forgot what a human garbage disposal he could be. He tossed the card back at her.

“Your card’s maxed out, by the way,” he said.

She glared at him, but she endeavored to let it go with a sigh, raising a hand to her temple. How the fuck had this become her life?

To minimize being overheard, she stepped closer to him while the gas pump kept going on her car.

“Gunpowder is the easiest one to find next. Mindstorm’s probably hiding in a hole in the middle of the woods some-goddamn-where,” she said, keeping her voice down. She gave her unwanted companion a sly look. “Though I’m thinking you want Mindstorm to stay wherever he retired.”

It brought up an unsavory memory.

After the team turned on him, Mindstorm had been the one to lock his gaze on Ben. For a moment, his feet had been rooted to the ground while Mindstorm tried to shove him deep into his mind. It had given someone the opening to slip a mask of Novichok over his face. He suspected it had been Countess.

Now, Ben turned to her with a glare at her audacity.

“You know, for a massive cunt, you’ve got some brass balls,” he said dangerously. “How the fuck didn’t I see what a vindictive little snake you were from the beginning?”

Donna scoffed in derision.

“I’m vindictive? Says the cheating, lying, bastard,” she snapped.

“Oh, shut your hole. You knew what I was doing, and you didn’t give a shit,” he said with a glare. He leveled a finger at her. “You used me to get exactly what you fucking wanted. Fame, money, and all the perks that come with it.”

Her lips pursed, like she didn’t want to admit it. But if they were airing out dirty laundry, then she wasn’t pulling any more punches.

“Well, I wasn’t the only one. Was I?” she said. “Anyone who ever smiled at you, fawned over you, or sucked your dick was trying to get something from you. Or, they were scared of you. Because you’re a bully. A fucking monster. And sooner or later, Sirena won’t be able to stomach you anymore.”

The thin leash on his temper finally snapped. He reacted, reaching out to grab her by the throat. He was truly thinking about breaking her neck.

Donna choked for air and gripped his wrist. “Without me, you’ll have no one. Good…fucking…luck finding her.”

Ben was furious, but he battled it down, expelling a breath of frustration.

He released her. She coughed and gasped and stumbled a few feet away from him, glaring at him all the while through her fear.

When she was eventually able to stand again, she and Ben shared a look of mutual loathing, but also, of understanding.

It was an uneasy truce. For now.

You were quickly unraveling alone in the dark.

You felt the phantom cold of your old cell. No matter how you rubbed your arms through the leather of your supe suit, you couldn’t get warm. You released a shaky breath and swiped at your tears.

You missed Ben. He had to know by now that you were in trouble, but you didn’t know if he’d know how to find you. Or worse, if they found him first.

You steeled yourself and tried to calm your panic. You counted to thirty. Your eyes flit to every small detail of your cell that you could name: the small crack in the gray linoleum tile, the line of ants slowly creeping along the corner, the brittle wool blanket you were sitting on, laid over your cot.

When your breathing was steady, you tried to think. You didn’t know where you were, of course, but you could try to sense how big the building was.

You did something you rarely did. You cast your awareness outward as far as you could reach.

There were very few male energies, and you only picked up on a few scattered thoughts.

Until you found one. It felt…strong, but young. A kid?

Jesus Christ, what’re they doing in this place? you thought.

What…who’s there?

You heard the voice in your mind, small and afraid and lonely. Before you could answer him, the door of your cell opened to a few familiar faces.

There was an older man in a lab coat that you recognized, but you couldn’t place his name until you read his monogram. Vogelbaum. Followed by Stan Edgar and Black Noir, who came to stand behind you. You knew that if you made any wrong moves, Noir would kill you this time.

Quickly you read their energies as you observed them.

Vogelbaum gave off mild interest in you, but it felt clinical. Stan felt resigned and calculating as he took you in.

“For what it’s worth, I do wish it hadn’t come to this, Sirena,” Stan said. “We didn’t intend for you to get caught up our deal with Russia.”

He may have been telling the truth, but that didn’t mean you cared.

“You’re in the most secure lab we have,” he said, gesturing to your wall-to-wall cell without windows. “No one knows you’re here, and no one will find you.”

You smiled dryly. “So what do you want from me?”

“I want to know how you and Soldier Boy escaped the facility in Russia,” he said, gathering his hands behind his back.

What he really meant was, How did you escape? So we can make the next cell even more effective.

You leaned forward and spat at his shoes.

Black Noir grabbed you by the back of your neck and yanked you back. Your jaw clenched in anger, but you didn’t struggle. Even if you opened your mouth to sing, Noir would snap your neck before your powers had time to affect him.

Stan remained unaffected by your outburst, though he glanced down at his shoes.

“These are handmade Italian leather,” he remarked.

“Even if you find Ben, you’ll never be able to kill him,” you said tersely.

“We don’t need to kill him. Nor will we need to find him,” Stan said. “He’s already looking for you.”

Your eyes widened. Your heart swelled with both hope and dread, though you tried to hide it.

“We have a plan to neutralize him. Several, in fact,” he added, and spread his hands wide. “Until then…welcome home.”

Smug bastard. You glared back at him.

He left, along with Vogelbaum. Black Noir glanced back at you once, then he was gone.

The lights in your cell turned off, leaving you in darkness. You heaved a breath and couldn’t help the tears that found hot paths down your cheeks. You curled your knees up on the cot and held them to your chest.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could pretend the room wasn’t pitch black. You focused your breathing, in and out, until your heartbeat began to slow down from its panic.

The kid, you remembered.

You licked your dry lips and tried casting your awareness out again. When you found the familiar energy from before, you reached out to him.

Hey, are you there? you prodded.

Who the hell are you?

It’s okay. Don’t be scared, you said, and you gave him your name. Are you locked up here?

Y-Yeah.

I’m sorry to hear that. I am too.

How can you be talking to me…in my head?

Well, it’s complicated, you admitted. It’s a new power I’m trying out, thanks to my time as a human test subject.

Something told you this kid knew the feeling.

What’s your name? you asked.

Um…John. I’m John.

  AN: 🤭 Oh, yeah, we're going there.

How did you like getting Ben's perspective on things? And his "forced" team up with Countess to find the rest of the cast of Payback. 😬 What could possibly go wrong?

Next Time: 

Ben hated to admit it (so he wouldn’t), but she had a point. It took him a minute to wrangle in his ire, taking deep breaths to try and calm the power inside him. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t.

This time, it actually did.

His hand fell back to his side, letting the younger man breathe freely.

“Let’s go.” Ben turned on his heel and headed out.

“Where, uh…where’re we going?” Charlie asked, rubbing his sore neck.

“Looks like we’re getting the team back together,” Ben said grimly.

He tilted his head.

“Well. What’s left of it.”

▶️ Keep Reading: PART 11

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Crazier things - What if we're still meant to be? | Katie McCabe x Reader

Where you reconnect with your ex-situationship years later

Woso masterlist | Words: 3k | Part 2

Listen to the song this story was inspired by:

-----

The flight from Barcelona to London was one you had taken plenty of times, but this time it was different. Usually it was to visit your family, or for national team training, but this time around you were moving back home. 

After playing for Barcelona for four seasons, and winning plenty of silverware, you were moving back to the club that you had called home since you were only ten years old. You had come up through the ranks of the Arsenal Academy and had played for the senior team for three years, before making the move to Barcelona.

Your headphones played a random playlist you had downloaded on Spotify, as the plane got ready for take off. Once in the air, a song started playing that brought up a million memories. Memories about the girl that you had not been able to get out of your head since the day you left for Barcelona. You were going to be stuck in the air for a while, so for the first time this week, you allow your mind to wander back to those days.

– 2018 –

The new season was approaching fast. It was your second season with the senior team, and you were no longer the Academy signing. You had made a name for yourself within the team last year, and you were determined to only keep growing in the upcoming season. 

Since there would be some new players joining the team, the team captains had planned a teambuilding session the week before pre-season would officially start. Amongst the new signings, there was another face that was new to you. 

Well, she wasn’t entirely new, she had been playing at the club for a couple of years, and you had watched her play when you were still at the Academy, but the two of you had never met before as she had been on loan last season. Katie was only two years older than you were, but she was definitely a player you looked up to. So, it was safe to say that you were excited to get to play with her this season. 

You met your teammates in the bar that they had rented out, where you’d all compete in a trivia game set-up by the captains. At first you were fully zoned in on the trivia questions, but after a couple of drinks, you only had eyes for Katie. She was sitting a few tables over, but your eyes kept meeting, and each time the intensity grew.

A couple drinks later, you were fully drunk. Something the captains probably didn’t have in mind, but they picked a bar, so you felt like it was alright. As did Katie who had followed you into the bathroom, and didn’t waste any time kissing you once the door closed behind you.

The rest of the night was a blur. You didn’t know how you got home, but Katie had been laying next to you when you woke up. 

Your head was pounding, so you got up and let Katie sleep. Took some medicine and set some ready on the counter for her, while you started on breakfast. 

“What did they put in those drinks?” Katie said as she walked in clutching her hand to her head. “No clue, but take these.” You gesture to the medicine, and set down a plate of food in front of her. 

Neither one of you brought up what had happened, not that either of you had much memory of it to go by. You just moved on like nothing happened.

The next time however, you did remember. It was after the first match that you lost and Katie’s frustrations were high. “Can I come over?” She didn’t mention her intentions in the question, but you knew what she was aiming for. “Yeah.”

– 2019 –

Everyone on the team thought you and Katie were dating. The two of you were attached at the hip, they rarely saw either one of you without the other. You were more touchy with each other than with anyone else, and they would even catch the two of you making out on nights out.

The two of you weren’t together though. You had never talked about what you were. Friends with benefits? Something more? It just was. Thinking back on it now, you would classify it as a situationship. You were young and carefree, and didn’t really care. Until you did.

“Wanna get away this weekend?” Katie looked up from where her head lay in your lap. You would have a bit of time off, and hadn’t made any plans yet, so you agreed. That weekend everything changed.

Katie rented a place for just the two of you that weekend, away from the busy football lives you lived. The trip brought a new level of domesticity with it. Sharing a bed was more than normal for the two of you by now, but the walks around town where she would hold your hand, cooking together, laying cuddled up on the couch while watching a movie.

When you got back from your trip, you found yourself craving the way everything had been on your trip. Thinking back of the memories you shared, you think you had fallen for her earlier than you allowed yourself to admit. 

– 2020 –

You had tried to turn off your feelings for Katie for a couple of months now, but that turned out to be harder than you had imagined. 

Each time her lips were on yours, or you shared the bed, you wished that she was yours. In your mind that was never going to happen though. The two of you had been casual from the start, why would that change now?

You thought long and hard over what your options were, until a different option came onto your path. It had made sense in the moment, so you went ahead with it. Now all you had to do was tell Katie.

“I’m a little nervous to tell you.” You said when she sat on the couch with you. “Well, there is something I want to tell you as well, so maybe we should say it at the same time?” You tried to convince her that that would probably not be a good idea, but Katie was determined, it would make both of you less nervous, so you went along with it.

“Okay after one?” You nodded and she started counting down, “Three, two, one.”

“I am transferring to Barcelona.” “I think I am in love with you.”

You both looked shocked at the other’s confession.

In this moment everything that you wanted could happen, if you had told her that you loved her as well. But you didn’t. You were too scared, and stayed quiet. 

“I think I’m gonna go.” Katie said barely above a whisper. Your whole body was screaming at you to get up and stop her, but you were glued to the couch.

You didn’t see Katie anymore before you left for Barcelona. It wouldn’t be fair to her, you thought.

– Present day –

The seatbelt lights turned on, letting you know that you would soon be landing in London. Thoughts of Katie still clouded your mind. 

You had spent every day of your life regretting not telling her how you felt. She was a part of you that was always missing. The move back to Arsenal wasn’t about Katie, though you hoped you’d be able to apologise for the hurt you had caused her.

At Barca you had become a better player, but a part of you always missed home. You won trophy after trophy with the team, and some personal awards as well. But you wanted to be able to win trophies with the team that was your home. So, you made the decision to transfer back to Arsenal.

When you got off the plane you were greeted by a couple of familiar faces, Leah, Beth, and Kim were standing with a ‘Welcome home Gooner’ banner and big smiles on their faces. They had been your teammates before, and of course Leah and Beth both played for England with you. Still hugging them now felt different than those the past times you’ve seen them. This time it felt like coming home. 

You looked around to see if another familiar face would be around, but were only met with the faces of the strangers around you. “She didn’t come.” Leah said softly, knowing little parts of what had happened all those years ago. You nodded in understanding, of course she wouldn’t come. The girls led you to the car, and drove to a nearby restaurant to catch up.

At the restaurant you try your best to push the thoughts of Katie aside as you’re catching up with your friends, but that turned out to be harder than you thought. It was great being with your friends again, and talking with them was definitely calming down your nerves, but still seeing her again clouded your mind.

Would she still be angry? Was she happy without you? You never got closure after that day on your couch, and that was entirely your fault, so you didn’t blame her if she would never forgive you.

“Earth to y/n.” Beth says, waving her hand in front of your face. “Are you alright? You keep zoning out.” You’re pulled out of your thoughts, “Yeah, sorry, I was just thinking.” 

Beth raises her eyebrows in question, but Leah shakes her head after exchanging a glance with Kim. Beth knows that whatever it was, it was best not to push it after the warning looks Leah and Kim sent her way.

They had just started up the conversation again when your phone vibrated on the table. You look down at the sound that interrupted the story Beth was telling, and your breath catches in your throat.

Katie.

Your heart races as you quickly excuse yourself, and step outside to take the call. 

“Hello?” You’re not sure what to say, so a simple hello would have to do. It stayed silent on the other side of the line, but just as you were about to check to see if she had hung up, you heard her voice. It was soft and hesitant, yet the familiarity of it made your chest ache.

“Hey, I heard you were back.” From how she said it, you couldn’t tell how she was feeling about it. “Yeah, I am. Landed about an hour ago.” Since you didn’t know the intention of her call, you left it up to her. You were the one that left, the one that had hurt her, so you wanted to make sure that whatever happened next, was on her terms.

Katie stayed quiet for another moment, before she shared the reason for her call. “Can we meet?” This time around you were the one staying quiet for a moment. The question hung in the air, heavy with everything that had been left unsaid between the two of you.

“Yeah,” You said softly, “I think that’s a good idea.”

When you walked back into the restaurant your mind was occupied with what you would say to Katie and what she would say to you when you would meet up later that day. Leah noticed you weren’t fully there with them anymore. She narrowed her eyes and shot you a questioning look. 

“Are you alright?” She tried to say to just you, but the table was small enough for Kim and Beth to pick up on it too. You looked at all three of them and then back down to your plate, “Yeah, just it was Katie.”

“What did she say?” Leah tried to push you to open up gently. “She wants to meet.” You felt a tightness in your chest thinking about what would happen when you would. You failed to notice Kim telling Beth off for wanting to ask more questions. They all knew bits and pieces of what had happened between you and Katie, but only the two of you knew the depth of it all.

Kim puts a reassuring hand on your shoulder, “Take it one step at a time. You’re back home now, and that means facing some things in the past, that includes Katie. Not to go all captain on you, but it’s probably best if you face that part before pre-season starts.” You knew she was right and nodded, “Yeah, I will meet her tonight.”

The girls dropped you off at your new apartment. Your family had helped you with getting the whole apartment ready for you, including picking up the car you bought. You settled in the apartment, and started thinking of what you would say to Katie. 

Time passed quickly and before you knew it, it was time to head over to the coffee shop where Katie texted you the address of. You remembered the place, you had gone there often before, even with Katie. 

You found her in the far corner, sipping on her drink and staring out the window. She looked the same, yet different. She looked more mature now, but still that hint of cheekiness you had always loved was present.

She looked around and her eyes softened. It gave you the courage to move towards her. “Hey.” You said softly, sitting down across from her. “Hey.” She replied, her voice just as soft. There was a tension between the two of you, that made a silence fall over the both of you.

One of the waiters came over to take your drink order, and something about that made it all seem so familiar. The two of you stayed silent until your coffee order was placed in front of you.

Katie was the one to break the silence. “You left.” Her tone was laced with a hint of sadness, but not anger. “You left without saying goodbye.” 

Her words hit you hard, but it was true. “I know. I’m sorry. I thought it would be easier for both of us.”

She locks her eyes to yours, “Was it?” You looked down at your cup, not able to look her in the eyes. “No,” You whispered. “It wasn’t easier. Not at all.” A silence fell over you again. The bustling noises of the coffee shop, surrounding you. 

“I spent a long time wondering why you didn’t say anything back that day.” She tried making eye contact with you again. “The day I told you how I felt.” You lift your eyes up to meet hers. Your heart ached.

“I was scared, Katie. I didn’t know how to handle what I was feeling. I signed the contract to escape my feelings, and then you spoke the words I was feeling too and I froze. I’ve regretted not telling you how I felt every single day since.”

Deep down Katie had known that you had felt the same way, but this was the first time she had heard you say it outloud. “Do you still feel the same?”

Unlike four years ago, you were quick to respond. “Yes. Yes I do.” You got nervous at admitting that. “I know a lot of time has passed, and we’re different people now. I don’t know if it’s fair of me to say this now, but I still love you, Katie. I always have.”

Her eyes softened at your confession, as if she had been seeking this information the whole time. Her lips parted as if she wanted to say something, but no words came out. A moment passed, until finally she spoke.

“What if we’re still meant to be?” Her words hung in the air. She asked the question that had kept you awake more often than you’d like to admit. “Crazier things have happened, right?” she added, a hint of hope in her eyes.

You remember the words of your old coach. Take the shot, even if you’re afraid to miss. Your coach may have meant to apply it to football only, but it was a good life motto. “Then we’re crazy not to try, right?” 

Katie was fiddling with her Claddagh ring. “I think I’ve been waiting for this moment.” She confesses. “For you to come back, I mean. I tried to move on, to forget, but it was always you.”

You reach out your hand and place it over hers. “I don’t know what the future holds, but if there is even the smallest chance that we are meant to be, I want to take it. I don’t want to live with regrets anymore.”

Katie puts her other hand down on top of yours. “The last time around, we kind of skipped a lot of steps. If we’re gonna try this again, can we please start from the beginning and take things slow?” Her tone was laced with a new found nervousness. You agreed fully though, you wanted to try this the healthy way. “I wouldn’t want it any other way. Let’s do it the right way this time around.” 

You spend some more time catching up, now that the big conversation was out of the way. When it was time to leave, the two of you stood outside of the coffee shop, ready to say goodbye. 

“Can I hug you?” You asked softly. Katie answered by putting her arms around your neck, and your hands quickly fell to her back. The feeling of her in your arms was so familiar. Her smell was the same as back then, and it brought you back to that all too familiar feeling.

When you stepped out of the hug, you met her eyes which were watery. “I promise to make it all up to you. I’ll be better this time around.” She nodded, “Me too.” 

You gave her another quick hug, “I’ll see you at practice tomorrow.” She nodded, “Yeah, I will see you tomorrow.”

Continue reading part 2

-----

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[0310s]

seventeen and their crush making them a playlist 🎵

summary: friends-to-lovers!!! their reactions when you make a playlist for them. the premise is that you're friends with them and they have a crush on you!

word count: 856

jeonghan

౨ৎ when you send jeonghan a spotify link at 3am, he's puzzled at why you're still awake at such an atrocious hour. he sees the message hours later when he wakes up and finds out you've made him a playlist of japanese songs, comprised of mainly gentle indie and acoustic tracks.

"since you're learning japanese, i thought it would help to listen to music in the same language!" you declare through text. he's genuinely awed you remembered he was learning japanese even if he mentioned it only in passing, and even more touched that you thought of curating a playlist based on his own taste in music. it means that you paid attention to him and what he liked.

jeonghan uses your playlist to study the language diligently, translating lyrics and repeating them out loud multiple times as practice. the next time he sees you, he insists on buying you coffee for a week straight, and he's not accepting no for an answer. he also clings to you like a leech, demanding that you accept his help with literally everything, from studies to getting groceries. later in that week, he also vows to help you with your love life by asking you out on a date. and who are you if not helpless to jeonghan's whims to say no?

jihoon

౨ৎ "so what do you listen to while working out?" you ask jihoon. surprisingly, he listens to nothing. "so you just do chest or legs for an hour and a half straight without a soundtrack to keep you going? you monster, that sounds like literal hell!" you gasp in pure, unadulterated horror. jihoon doesn't think it's much of a problem until you send him a playlist titled "playlist to work out to". he sends you a laughing emoji, thinking it was just a joke based on your conversation from days ago, but when you tell him you made it specifically for him, his entire tune changes.

when jihoon checks the playlist, he notices how it's perfectly an hour and a half, enough time for his work out with minutes to spare for his cool down—now he has to listen to music while working out. you chose the perfect songs: heavy-bass, hard-hitting hip-hop at the start of the playlist to pump him up and relatively calmer songs along the end for when he winds down. he doesn't tell you he's listened to it while at the gym for weeks straight, so much that he's memorized the lyrics to all the tracks as well as the transitions from one song to the next. the rest of the guys at the gym wonder why he's suddenly wearing headphones, only to realize why when they see his phone.

when you mention the playlist to him in passing, jihoon pretends to be normal about it, but when you get all excited about how you based it off the playlists he had on his spotify page, he gets flustered and tongue-tied. he knows you're a kind person, but he falls deeper into you, knowing you'd take the time to do something as meaningful as this for him. still, he's busted when his friends pass by and tell you he's been listening your playlist at the gym for weeks on end. in the end, jihoon's embarrassment is worth it when you ask him out on a date yourself.

vernon

౨ৎ you and vernon listen to completely different genres of music. while you enjoy your daily dose of r&b, vernon's headphones are filled with sounds of pop punk and hyperpop. despite this, you and vernon share your current favorite tracks with each other, taking time to listen to each other's recommendations. you possess a mutual respect for both your preferences and don't feel like you necessarily need to have the same music taste to be friends.

however, vernon's in for a surprise when on his birthday, you hand him a mixtape in the form of a cd with a doodle of you and him on it. "vernon and (y/n)'s mixtape :)," it reads on the cd in loopy handwriting, complete with a smiley face. "hi, vernon," you cheerily say from his laptop speakers. he shivers at the sound of your dulcet voice (cute!!!!). "i hope you enjoy this little mixtape i made you. it's a bunch of songs i thought you'd like based on your music taste! enjoy and happy birthday," you end with a giggle.

on his first listen, he can't believe what he's hearing. you've compiled some of his favorite songs in this mixtape, alongside other pop punk and hyperpop tracks he loves but has never shared with you. there are some songs from the same genres he's never heard of, and he becomes immediately obsessed with them. on his third listen, he still can't believe how you knew exactly the type of songs he'd like. in return, he makes you a mixtape of r&b songs he thinks you'd like. at the end of the mixtape, he confesses to you and nervously asks you out on a date. vernon receives a call immediately from you: "i've been waiting this whole time for you to ask!"

౨ৎ 0310s © 2023 ౨ৎ

[silken-moonlight]

Older Alpha and Human Waitress / Moodboard and playlist

Desmond Lyall

We already had an introductory post for Desmond; however, I wanted to write a little more about him. Desmond's family had been...tense. His father was a man of sternness and coldness; weakness was not tolerated in his house. In the werewolf community, this is viewed as toxic Alpha family behavior. His mother was no different. With both his parents alphas and raised with the same mindset, it had been a difficult environment to grow up in. Desmond was the golden child; he was expected to be perfect. He managed to become a somewhat good person still. His younger brother, William, was not as fortunate. He suffered under the reign of his parents. Back then, Desmond had viewed him as weak. Like his parents, he was disappointed in his brother and his rebellious behavior.

Nowadays, Desmond has matured as a person. Being the Alpha of his pack has made him view things differently. Many challenges and changes have occurred for him over the years. He has come to put his own needs behind everyone else's. He occasionally takes time for himself, but that has become rare. He overworks himself to the point that his beta, Isaac, is concerned about his physical and mental health. He has changed, becoming awfully similar to his father, and he hates that but cannot help it. He is complex and has so many layers that somebody would need to free him. He himself would never find peace on his own; somebody has to guide him.

His greatest and deepest desire is to feel cared for. He wants to be weak, even if he could never admit that. He yearns for something, something that is just his own. He yearns for love and warmth, gentle touches and silly moments. These songs shall display him a little better

The reader/ you

Disclaimer: This is how I imagined the reader. How you imagine them or if you imagine yourself is your Business. This is just 'my' view, please don't see this as Set thing how you should imagine the reader/you.

A little background for the reader: She still lives with her parents, who are both chronically ill. Her parents need her in their lives, and the reader loves her parents; however, their care and constant needs can be suffocating. Sometimes she feels like there is no way out, and she feels guilty for thinking this, since she would do anything for her family. She has lost many friends over this, and the friends that have stayed use her as a free therapist. She has sometimes lost her sense of self, and a deep exhaustion has settled into her. While she always tries to be happy and carefree, sometimes her exhaustion and sadness peak through. She loves to care for others, but it will be her eventual end if no one begins to take care of her.

She is happiest outdoors with her dogs, loving nature and books. She goes skinny-dipping in any river or pond she finds, unafraid of any animals and wanting to befriend every animal in her path. A wild child, as her parents call her, she is difficult to catch. A soul pure and good, her energy is addictive, but many drain her energy.

A/N: This was a lot of fun to do. I love making stuff like this. I hope you liked it too! I thought at first to make a pintrest Board and Spotify playlist. Though I find this solutiin a bit better. How did you like it?

[bryngmemoney]

✁FASHION FLIRT✃

Megumi Fushiguro x Reader

⭑story masterlist link

tw: death joke

Writing at the beginning and in btwn messages!!

🪡Chapter Eighteen: Bro

You looked around trying to see where Megumi was, jumping at the sudden arms wrapping around you, but settling down once you realized it was him.

“Found you.” he let go of you as you turned around to face him. “Don’t scare me bro.”

“bro?”

“Heyyy, you ran away so fast? What’s wrong was I getting boring?”

Oh him. He was still looking for you.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?” he asked, staring at Megumi. He pieced two and two together, figuring that this was the man who was bothering you while you texted him. “Yeah, who are you?” he answered, hoping to get him to back off. “You can just call me Mahito, but that’s too bad. Well, you two have fun then, i’ll leave you alone for now.”

You both watched him get lost in the crowd, sighing after finally seeing him gone. “So, boyfriend huh?” Megumi just looked at you, and although he tried his best, it was still obvious to you how he was trying to fight a smile. “Just said that to save your ass, can’t be your boyfriend after you called me ‘bro’ .”

“Oh my god are you for real?” You almost laughed at his expression. “No, let’s go and get something to drink,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you with him, “and i’m not letting you get lost again, I don’t like weirdos flirting with you.”

“Who are you texting?” Megumi asked, finally recovering from his embarrassment of childhood pictures that you had been showing him from Maki. “Why are you jealous?” you asked. He hummed a little leaning his head into your shoulder. “It’s just a group chat, and Maki of course sending me more photos.” He smushed his face a little more into your clothes, “Doesn’t she have anything better to do? She’s at a party tell her to go do something instead of ruining my life.” You laughed a little.

It was a nice atmosphere, you could hear the music blasting from the main room, but you and Megumi had snuck away into another little foyer room of the house, sitting in the corner on the couch. It wasn’t the most secluded as the rooms around it were still full of people, and there would be others passing by you guys, but a lot less crowded than where you originally had been.

Megumi had gotten you guys something from the kitchen. He wasn’t one much for parties you soon found out by his nature of trying to keep you guys in less public areas. That wasn’t really a problem though, but you were surprised by how much he was attaching himself to you. From what’d you’d previously experienced with him, the only time you remember him being this close was that one time he fell asleep at the movies, and the exception of you helping him into his outfits. You never took him as a big fan of PDA, but maybe this really was moving forward some way.

Author’s Note: thought giving megumi an ex-emo phase would be funny 😊😊😊

made a playlist with songs i think megumi would listen to on spotify lemme know if anyone wants the link

also just wanna thank u guys for all the support you’ve shown this story i really appreciate it :3

hope you guys enjoyed!

Taglist below, feel free to comment or dm me to be added!!

TAGLIST

@iridescentrays @gumimegz @maya-maya-56 @mamafly @lunavixia @swissy23 @coltsgf @m00nglad3-mp3 @etsukis @xosren @qtnfer @oengleli @harek89 @y-sabell-a @morgyyyyyyy @getolvr @liliumaraneae @k3lbade @aiieera @dancedancey @get0sfav @chuyasthighs0 @hyssoplampflickers @kpopanimen @sad-darksoul @vivi-loves-penguins @kasumitenbaz @talkingsperm @nymphsdomain @inlovewithlondonn @rzcnlb @enchantingkitty @fuyuzemi @lysaray @ni-ki-ismyluv @renemy @frumira @mixzimi @miralunaela @dreamxiing @p3achiee @anianurst @nishii28 @arguendo

[joongbin]

Hello there! I saw that your requests are open so I thought of requesting a small thing.it’ll be male!reader who has a personality that matches nana from the anime(seems tough and gothic but is sweet)and is into rock and knows how to play the guitar rlly well and has a kinda long wolf cut hair and is from the hyung line.

Sorry it’s long!!you don’t have to do the request but if you’re gonna do it,take your time and have a great day :D!!!

reader whos like nana, n knows how to play the guitar!

skz x 9th mbr male reader

fluff — no warnings.

STAY loves that you can play the guitar! Occasionally on lives, you'd play one of your favourite songs or a SKZ song. Someone even made an edit of how handsome you looked everytime you played.

Your wolf cut attracted many stays to bias you too, as if you belonged in a band and not a group. Your seemingly tough and gothic look absolutely killed STAY, and loved how you were so sweet to the members!

The members, adored you to hell. You were in the hyung line, so the maknae line viewed you as someone they could look up to - or just someone they really admire. You were sweet, it was just your appearance that made you look intimidating.

Chan loves your taste in music! Your Spotify playlist contained mostly rock music from other bands, which you shared with Chan whenever he asked. He loves listening to your favourite rock songs the most!

You were pretty responsible in the group, caring for the members when they were hurt mostly. Jeongin had injured himself on stage once and you rushed to help him, the other members going to tell the staff. Some stayed to keep him calm and company until staff arrived.

It was a pretty tragic scene for the concert, but Jeongin could still perform, he only had to sit down and sing his parts. You occasional made faces at home, making him laugh while you performed greatly.

STAY loved that! How you cared for your younger members as if they were actually your little brothers. Maknae line adored you, and you were content with that. Jeongin would gladly give you kisses when you ask him to, honestly.

Minho, loved how you were so kind to his cats. His cats loved you, what more could he ask for? Maybe he should just marry you on the spot! Kidding. ..maybe? You would always make fun of his cats, though. Claiming, ‘ they can't understand Korean, Minho ’.

Felix bringing you shipping and finding little red strawberries on cups. (Yes, I'm referencing that scene.) You didn't care if he bought them or not, if he wanted to he could - it wasn't like you didn't have money. He didn't want to buy it, since he thought you didn't like them - which meant there was no point in buying them.

You were usually spotted practicing on your guitar skills - which made Hyunjin sit down and draw you in his notebook, admiring your features. How your eyebrows furrow whenever you mess up, how you bit your bottom lip when you were focused - he was smitten.

Your guitar skills were immaculate, honestly. Everyone loved how you would laugh softly at a note you messed up - not bothered at all. Haters would use some clips where you messed up to roast you though - which didn't bother you at all. Hate all they want, they can't be as good as you.

Especially how you have to practice dancing and singing? Yeah. They can't compete.

[bloatedandalone04]

➪the one where ethan makes you playlist of songs that remind him of you. (requested)

Warnings: fluff, ethan being a cutie and having the biggest crush on you, non-ghostface ethan, more fluff

Word Count: 1.8k | Ethan Masterlist

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine <3

Ethan couldn’t remember the last time he felt like this.

Well, he could as he was still young and it had only been a few years since he had been in middle school. Still, the small crushes he had back then were nothing compared to what he felt now. 

His brain felt fuzzy, his heart sped up whenever those eyes met his own, he would break out into a sweat when he felt the brush of skin on skin. He had never had it this bad before.

And you were to blame.

Your sweet smile, your kind eyes and your bright and carefree personality. How could he not instantly be drawn to you?

Ethan was developing a deep crush on you, and at a rapid pace. 

He sat in his room, his laptop playing some rock band from its place on his desk while he was across the room on his bed. His thumb was beginning to hurt from his countless hours of scrolling through Spotify, subconsciously adding random songs to a playlist - every song in which reminded him of you. 

Cloud 9 - Beach Bunny.

Crimson and Clover - Joan Jett & the Blackhearts.

Compass - The Neighbourhood. 

Someone to You - BANNERS.

The list just goes on and he only decided to stop when he saw how long it had gotten, the top of the playlist reading ‘67 songs, 4 hr 21 min’.

God, he felt like a kid again. 

His last crush was brutal. Ethan never found the courage to ask the cute girl in his homeroom out, making that story end before it ever even began. He never even spoke to her. 

Thankfully, that wasn’t the case with you. 

Not entirely, anyway. 

He talked to you almost everyday, and that in itself was an improvement from his last crush. He even went out on dates with you…sort of. Group outings with Tara, Chad, Mindy and Anika counted as dates, right?

Either way, it was another improvement. If there’s one thing high school taught him, it was that sitting around and waiting for people to come to him was borderline useless; insert the name of the crush he quickly forgot about upon meeting you.

You; the cute girl in his econ class.

You; his sister’s roommate.

You; the girl currently walking straight towards him. 

Shit.

“Hey, Ethan,” you greet in your usual cheery voice.

He smiles back, hoping that he hadn’t gotten too caught up in his thoughts to the point where he was staring at you. He hoped that you didn’t come over here to call him out on it. “Hey,” smooth.

You adjust the strap on your shoulder, tilting your head to the side as you ask, “What are you listening to?”

His brows furrowed before he realized that he still had his earbuds in. Now he knew why your voice sounded so muffled. 

Quickly pulling them out, he stuffs the wires away in his pocket as he shrugs. “Oh, um, nothing. Just a playlist I made,” he simply said, applauding himself for being able to sound so casual when his heart was beating a million miles a minute. 

You nod, looking down at the tiled floor of the hallway. “That’s cool,” you trail off, feeling like you were bothering him with your sudden presence. Maybe you were overthinking it, but the way he talked made you think you were interrupting something, whatever that something was. The last thing you wanted to do was bother him.

Unbeknownst to you, Ethan didn’t think you could ever bother him.

He sounded so closed off just because he was having a hard time coming up with words, the effect you had on him quickly beginning to take over his whole body.

“Um, well,” you murmur and back away, feeling your face heat up in embarrassment at the short lived conversation. “I guess I’ll see you later.”

Ethan’s eyes widened as he watched you turn around. He mentally kicked himself for being so monotone with you and giving you the wrong idea. Fuck, of course he’d accidentally give you the impression that he didn’t want to talk to you when it was actually the exact opposite. “Hey, wait,” he called out before he was able to fully think it through. You turned around, a small, confused smile on your lips. “I actually wanted to show you something. I made it last night.”

You raise one brow and walk back over to him. “You made it?”

He laughs awkwardly, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Yeah, I was bored,” he answered and tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered at the sound of your laugh. “Can I see your phone?”

“Um, yeah,” you grab your phone from your back pocket and hand it to him, confusion still evident on your face. “How are you going to show me what you made on my phone, though?”

He smiles to himself at your cluelessness, putting in your password - he still can’t believe you trusted him enough to give him that - and going onto the Spotify app. “It’s a playlist,” he tells you and your face heats up for the second time. 

“Oh…right,” you nod. “I knew that.”

Ethan shakes his head and hands you back your phone. “I made it for you,” he says. “It’s full of songs that remind me of you.” He hoped you wouldn’t find his words creepy or weird. What was he doing?

You take your phone, tearing your eyes away from his to look down at the screen. It showed a playlist on his account, simply titled ‘For Her’. “Oh, wow,” you say quietly, scrolling through the songs before tapping on the heart icon and saving it to your own account. “Thank you, that’s really sweet.”

His own face heats up in a blush, his eyes meeting yours once again. “No problem,” he says just as quietly. “I hope you like it.”

You smile at him. “I’m sure I will,” your eyes briefly look at his lips before you back away again. “I’m running late, but I promise I’ll listen to it later.”

“No rush,” he calls out as you give him a final smile before turning around the corner. 

It was then when he could finally breathe again. 

-

Ethan hadn’t seen you in a few days. You were busy with work and studying and he had more than a few assignments he had to catch up on. 

You stayed true to your promise and listened to the playlist. However, instead of just listening to a couple of the songs and skipping over others, you listened to every single one. Over and over again.

Thanks to the app’s friend activity being on, Ethan was able to see that you had the playlist on repeat ever since he gave it to you. 

An undeniable feeling of happiness consumed every inch of him, filling him with a sense of pride. He was happy to know that the three hours he spent putting that playlist together weren’t for nothing. 

Thank God for Spotify and it’s weird but very useful features. 

Another day or so goes by before he sees you again, a warm feeling washing over him as you give him a smile that takes up nearly your entire face. “Hey, Ethan!” You greet him like usual, but this time you catch him by surprise as your arms wrap around his shoulders in a hug. “Thanks so much for making me that playlist. Some of those songs are really good.” You wanted to say all of them were good, but also didn’t want to come off as being too forward. 

“I’m glad,” he returned the hug and had to force himself to pull away after a few seconds. “So, I take it you like it?” He knew you did but he also wanted to hear you say it as well. 

“Of course, I love it,” you reply, feeling shy all of a sudden. You weren’t dumb, you knew what 99% of the songs were about - if it wasn’t obvious enough. Each one gave you butterflies, as did the title of the list. 

For her.

You could kiss him right here and now.

 “Good, that’s good,” he says and you try to fight off your growing smile.

“There were some really romantic songs on there,” you trail off, hoping to anyone that was listening that you weren’t reading too much into things. You’d die of embarrassment if you were to confess your feelings to him and have him turn you down. You’d probably cry if he were to say he just saw you as a friend. 

Ethan leaned against the bricked wall of the university, his forearm keeping him balanced as he raised it just above his head. “Only some?” He teased, knowing damn well that all of the songs were romantic in one way or the other. 

Relief falls over you at his voice, his teasing grin only making you believe your suspicions even more. “Okay, maybe more than some,”

Ethan’s smirk turned into a boyish grin at the way your face began to tint red. “More like all of them,” he smoothly corrected you, not entirely sure where the sudden boost of confidence came from, but not wasting a second of it. “You know, I meant it when I said they reminded me of you.”

You feel your face flush at his words, tilting your head down to stop your growing grin. “Yeah, I know,”

Ethan felt like he could fall over at any given second and he was glad his arm was currently doing a very good job at keeping him up right. Still, before he could lose the courage he rarely ever felt, he inched closer to you as he says, “I’ve been meaning to ask you something,”

You don’t dare move or speak or breathe as you wait for him to continue, your eyes never leaving his. 

“We’ve been friends for a while now, and it’s been great. Really great,” he starts and waits for any indication that he should shut up before he ruins something good. When you only slowly nodded, he decided to just go for it. “But I want something more. And I want it with you.”

Your eyes flicker all over his face, butterflies begging to be set loose all over your body as you process his words. Even though you had a strong feeling that you already knew what his answer would be, you still ask, “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying I really like you,” the butterflies had officially been released and your face heats up in both relief and happiness, overjoyed that your feelings weren’t one sided. “Would you like to go out with me?”

You refrain from screaming out a ‘yes’ and instead look down at the concrete you were both standing on. Slowly, you nod and don’t bother to fight off the smile growing on your face. “Yes,” you say and feel your heart skip a beat at the way his tense shoulders immediately lift, a grin taking over his own face. “Yes, I would like to go out with you.”

[damiansgoodgirll]

hey, can you write about damian x reader where she fell asleep without noticing and he cuddles her up in a plane and one of their friends take the pic

yup! i’m so happy writing for damian 🥹

damian priest x reader

Sleeping beauty

you never understood how or why but plane rides always made you tired.

a very embarrassing thing happened to you many years ago while you were on a plane and that kinda made you uncomfortable falling asleep again on planes. you accidentally fell asleep on the person who was set next to you and, instead of being patient or calm with you, that man started yelling and shouting about how you invaded his personal space and how you were harassing him.

that was probably one of the scariest and embarrassing thing that happened to you.

so before going on a plane you started drinking a lot of coffee and eating a lot of candies so you wouldn’t fall asleep in case you were sat next to some stranger.

this time you got lucky because you were travelling with your colleagues and friends from work damian and rhea.

you weren’t a pro wrestler you just worked with wwe, that’s how you met both of them and since day one you all got really close. rhea was like a big sis to you, always pranking you and making you laugh, damian was more like your protector. you couldn’t describe the relationship you had with damian, you were really good friends but you knew he had feelings for you and he definitely knew you had feelings for him. everyone around you noticed that.

“are you ready to go mariposa?” he asked you with a very big smile. he was thrilled when rhea told him you would be flying with them because for some work meeting you missed the flight you were supposed to take.

“yup!” you smiled “i’m just wondering who will be the stranger next to me…” you thought out loud.

“i don’t know…rhea and i got different seats, maybe you’ll be closer to her, let me see your number” he asked you and you showed him your seat “no way, you’re actually sat next to me” he smiled at you.

you were relieved when you heard those words coming from damian’s lips.

“that’s a good thing” you said.

“hey lovebirds! they’re boarding our flight, do you want to go or…?” you heard rhea calling for you and damian.

you both pretended to not hear her nickname for you and you just got on the plane.

when you got seated you realised that it was going to be a 8 hours flight and not even the whole coffe in the world could keep you awake for so many hours. you tried to distract yourself with music, switching from song to song as you didn’t want to annoy damian since he was reading and he looked completely focused on the book.

in reality damian couldn’t care less about the book, he just wanted to spend the flight talking to you but you looked tired and he didn’t want to bother you. what you didn’t realise was how fast the music endured you to sleep, it became almost like a lullaby and not even 40 minutes into the flight you were already fast asleep.

damian saw you sleeping and he decided to cover you with his hoodie, knowing the ac was on and that you would probably be cold.

he switched from the book to his spotify playlist as he was getting bored. rhea was watching a movie but from her seat she had a perfect visual of the both of you and from time to time she would send smirks in damian’s direction.

two hours into the flight you were still sleeping, just in different position. you unconsciously laid your head on damian’s shoulder but he definitely wasn’t bother by it. instead he was amused, he took it as an opportunity to have you closer so he wrapped his arm around your body and kept you close to him.

rhea saw the whole interaction and decided to take a few pics of the two of you to show you once you land. her intention was to help you confess to each others and the pictures she took were the perfect prove to it.

four hours into the flight you decided to wake up but the moment you opened your eyes you felt like you were being held by someone and it took you a few seconds to realise that the person who was holding you was damian. he looked so peaceful while holding you and watching a movie that you didn’t want to move his arm away but you got really uncomfortable in that position.

“oh you’re awake beautiful” he noticed smiling “did you sleep good?” he asked you.

“yes…uhm, i’m really sorry for falling asleep on you…i didn’t mean to” you started to apologize but he stopped you.

“it’s no problem, really. i liked having you closer to me” he smiled at you.

he what?

“are you sure? you can tell me if i made you uncomfortable…i won’t be mad i promise you”

“y/n, princesa, i promise you that you didn’t bother me at all, i liked having you close to me…heck, i wish you could sleep on me evey single night” he went straight into confessing.

“damian i -…”

“it’s okay you don’t have to say anything…i just wanted you to know how i feel” he said to you.

“and what if i feel the same?” you asked him.

“you what?” he asked almost in a whisper.

“damian, let’s be honest, we had this thing going on for over four years…we’ve been best friends but deep down we both know that we wanted for more…we-we we’re just scared to confess i guess…but i really really like you dam” you confessed too and he was to shock to even form a proper phrase that he went just by and kissed you. his soft lips over yours.

rhea was watching all the scene from the other side of the plane and she was internally screaming at the fact that her two best friends finally confessed at each others.

you never thought that the first kiss you would share with damian was going to be close to the sky but you couldn’t wish it in any other way.

[bingwriterxo]

the shakespeare exhibit - part 4

pairing: tara carpenter x reader

summary: in which you take tara on a surprise date

warnings: none

word count: 1700+

author's note: i'm gonna throw up from the fluff

previous part | next part

“So, where are we going this time?” Please not Shakespeare in the park. Please not Shakespeare in the park, Tara thought as she stared up at you, waiting for your response.

You grinned at her. “I can’t tell you! That ruins the whole point of a surprise date!”

Tara frowned. “Fine. Be like that,” she huffed, faking annoyance. She leaned back in her seat, glancing around the subway car at the other riders. There were a few men in business suits, a couple of other teenagers, and…a mime? What the fuck? Otherwise, it was surprisingly empty for a New York City subway on a Saturday afternoon.

She glanced at you, tracing your side profile with her eyes as your own eyes flitted around the car, your leg bouncing up and down. Before she could ask why you seemed anxious, you leaned over.

“I’m still not used to the city transportation,” you confessed. “I usually just walk to the university, or I drive if I have to go somewhere farther away.”

Tara placed a hand on your knee to help your fidgeting. “Hey, it’s okay. Everything’s gonna be fine, alright?” She smiled at you. “I’ve become a bit of a pro at the subway in the past few months, if I do say so myself, so I’ve got you.”

You chuckled. “Oh yeah? Gonna protect me from any bad guys?”

“Oh, definitely.” If I can beat motherfucking Ghostface, I can beat anyone. “You’d be surprised at what I’m capable of.” You tilted your head at her, confused. That’s a story for a later date. “You’re safe with me.” You nodded, and an idea popped into Tara’s head. “Would music make you feel better? That usually calms you down.”

You shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, but I didn’t bring my headphones.”

She pulled her airpods from her pocket and waved them around. “Good thing I never leave the apartment without mine.” She popped them out of her case, handing one to you while she shoved the other in her own ear. Once they were connected to her phone, she scrolled through her Spotify for a song.

‘Saturn’ by Sleeping At Last started playing, and Tara watched as you visibly relaxed, allowing your shoulders to slump, before you turned to her, your eyebrows furrowed. “You don’t like this kind of music,” you said.

She shrugged. “No, but you do.”

Your eyes widened. “You remembered?”

Why wouldn’t I? “Of course I did.” I made a whole playlist full of songs you like, nerd.

You smiled shyly and wrinkled your nose, a blush tinting your skin. “You’re such a simp, Tar.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m changing the song.” Before you could get another word out, ‘Not Strong Enough’ by Boygenius was blasting through the headphones instead. You bit back a smile as the first few cords filled your ears, and Tara stuck her tongue out teasingly at you.

“Jokes on you,” you said. “I like this song, too.”

Oh, I know, she thought. It’s on the playlist.

* * *

“This feels like a kidnapping,” Tara stated as she walked around, her vision blocked out by your hands. Her own arms were waving around in front of her so that she wouldn’t walk into anything or anyone, and her feet were stumbling along as you led her to an unknown location.

“Tara, if I was gonna kidnap you, I wouldn’t have told Mindy where we were going,” you said, your voice close to Tara’s ear, and she shivered.

Wait. What? “Mindy knows? Why does Mindy know?” Why is that bitch always in the middle of my shit? Nosy fucker.

“Because she asked and I told her.” You shrugged. “Plus, I don’t have Sam’s number yet, and I didn’t want her to think I was kidnapping you, so I had Mindy tell her where we were going.”

Okay. That’s fucking adorable of her. “Well, are we almost there? I don’t love not being able to see.”

You hummed. “Two more steps.” One. Two. Tara planted her feet on the ground. “I didn’t literally mean two more,” you huffed. “But I guess this works.” You uncovered her eyes, and Tara blinked at the sudden brightness.

She looked up at the large, white building you had stopped in front of, her eyes widening and jaw dropping. “No way! This is--”

“The Museum of Moving Image,” you said, grinning at her. “I thought you might like it--”

You weren’t able to finish as Tara grabbed your wrist and pulled you into a kiss, her lips pressed against yours as she tried to express all of the gratitude and joy she had in her body. That’s it, she thought. Case closed. She’s the one.

She pulled away, smiling so hard that her dimples were showing and the corners of her eyes were crinkled. “Well, come on!” she exclaimed, tugging you toward the front door. You were still stuck in a daze, your eyes half-lidded and mouth agape. “Let’s go!”

Tara giggled as you staggered behind her through the entrance until finally regaining your footing. You tossed your arm over her shoulders and led her to the ticket booth.

“Two tickets, please,” you said to the guy working at the counter, and he smiled.

“Sure, sure.” He rang you up quickly, sliding the tickets toward you, and when you reached out to grab them, he asked, “You haven’t been here before, have you?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s our first time.”

He nodded, and Tara watched as his eyes flitted down, stopping at your chest for a second before glancing back up at you. “I can tell. I’m sure I’d remember a face like yours.” He winked, and she felt like throwing up.

Does he not see her arm around my shoulders? Fucking idiot. She pushed herself further into your side, scowling at him. He paid her no mind as he winked slyly, and you hummed.

“Do you have a photographic memory or something?” Your eyes widened. “That’d be so cool! I wish I had a photographic memory. It would make learning plays and poems so much easier.”

The guy looked taken aback, his eyebrows furrowing. “What? No, I’m just saying you’re gorgeous is all.”

“Oh.” You frowned. “That’s less cool.”

And this is why you date the oblivious ones, Tara thought, internally laughing at the fact that you hadn’t realized the ticket boy was flirting with you.

“We’ll be going now,” she stated, inserting herself into the conversation and taking the tickets. She didn’t spare him a second glance as she turned the two of you around.

“Well, if you need any help or anything, you know where to find me!” the guy called, and Tara scoffed.

“No thanks!”

“That was weird, I think,” you said once you were out of earshot. “I don’t really know what just happened.”

She’s such a fool. Tara glanced up at you with a smile, and you returned it easily. A cute, adorable, chivalrous fool, but a fool nonetheless.

She patted you on the back before slipping her arm around your waist. “That’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it.” You blushed from the nickname and Tara handed your tickets to an employee, who waved the two of you in.

“So, where to first?” you asked.

* * *

For hours, Tara pulled you from exhibit to exhibit, happily answering any questions you had (there were a lot of them--your extensive knowledge didn’t stretch far beyond literature) and you listened closely, smiling whenever she ended up rambling about something.

The last exhibit was the one Tara was most excited for, and she lit up as she ventured into it, eyes jumping around the room as she scanned different artifacts from filming history. There were microphones, cameras, costumes, projectors--basically everything a film major would love.

“Oh my god,” she breathed out, tugging you toward the closest item. “This is the first ever boom microphone.”

“It’s very…big,” you said. “I thought boom microphones were smaller.”

She nodded, never taking her eyes off of the object. “They are, but they didn’t have much to work with back in the ‘20s.” She pulled away from you slightly so that she could get as close as possible. “Dorothy Arzner decided to put the microphone on a fishing rod during the filming of The Wild Party because there was too much movement on set, so any mics hidden in clothes didn’t work.”

She turned to you, grinning from ear to ear, and chuckled as you furrowed your eyebrows, tilting your head at her. “And Dorothy Arzner is…?”

“She was a filmmaker back in the ‘20s and ‘30s. Plus, she was one of America’s first lesbian filmmakers.”

You hummed, stepping forward and wrapping your arms over Tara’s shoulders, pulling her back into your front. “I see. And is that why you’re so knowledgeable about Arzner’s work?”

“Somewhat.” She shrugged. “She just did so many things for film, it’s hard not to know about her.”

You giggled, and Tara felt it against her spine, her heart hammering at the sound. “I feel how you must feel whenever I talk about literature,” you mumbled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

I could stay like this forever, she thought. Right here, in her arms, looking at this damn microphone. “We’re both nerds, aren’t we?” she asked.

“You’re only just realizing this now?”

She pushed against you. “Shut up.” She turned in your arms, looking up at you. “You’re nerdier. You know that, right?”

You narrowed your eyes, a teasing smile on your face. “If it helps you sleep at night, then I’ll say yes.”

Tara rolled her eyes. “I’ve got something else you should say yes to instead.”

“And that is?”

Don’t stutter. Just…say it. She inhaled deeply and asked, “Be my girlfriend?”

“Wait.” You frowned, furrowing your eyebrows a little. “Are we not already girlfriends?”

“Huh?”

“You told Mindy I was your girlfriend.”

Tara blushed, remembering her slip up from the other night. “I got ahead of myself when I said that.”

You grinned. “Too excited over me? You little simp.”

“If you keep calling me a simp, I’m gonna take my question back.” No I won’t. I would never.

“Sure you would, Tar.” She knows me too well. You giggled and pressed your forehead against hers. “I would love to be your girlfriend,” you said before kissing her. “‘For her own person, it beggar’d all description: she did lie--’”

“Are you quoting Shakespeare to me right now? Right now?”

You blushed. “...Yes.”

[morgana-larkin]

GASP how about any of LAW’s characters x reader and its based around the song “rule #34” by fish in a birdcage. Obviously smut. Listen- that song is wilddd and i love it

Anon, so after listening to the song twice, I had Melissa in mind, thought it would fit a jealous mel perfectly! And I do have to say that I really like the song, something about the chorus that’s just amazing and it’s on my spotify playlist! Not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!

On another note: I’ve added Agatha Harkness to my list! Feel free to send me prompts for any person on my list!

Tutta Mia (All Mine)

Warnings: it’s basically just smut, jealous Mel

Words: 2.15k

Melissa watches as the other teacher attempts to flirt with you, very poorly, but she’s got to give him credit for trying. Then you laugh at whatever he says and she sees that gave him a boost of confidence. He touches your arm with his hand and Melissa furrows her eyebrows when you don’t pull away from him. Melissa looks at her phone and is wondering how much longer this unsuccessful flirting will go on for, it’s already been 5 minutes. She sees and hears you laugh again and she crosses her arms.

You and Melissa are in a relationship, and have been for about 6 months now. The immediate Abbott crew knows but none of the other teachers. Finally the teacher leaves and you go and sit at the table with Barb and Melissa.

“What the hell was that?” Melissa says, arms still crossed.

“What the hell was what?” You ask.

“You flirting back with that teacher.”

“Are you jealous Melissa? And I wasn’t flirting back, I just laughed at the 2 jokes he said that were actually funny.” You say with a shrug.

“I am not jealous, you just shouldn’t be flirting with anyone else but me.” She tells you and you quirk an eyebrow.

“That sounds like jealousy to me.” You say casually and she huffs.

At lunchtime, the same teacher is flirting with you again and Melissa has had just about enough of this. She wants to take you home right now to mark you and make sure everyone knows you’re taken. As well as make you remember who you belong too, oh the things she’s thinking of doing to you tonight. One look at Melissa and you know you’re in for it tonight, and that’s actually making you excited. You really don’t want to use this teacher but at the moment you don’t really care. You actually start to flirt back a little and you see the jealousy pouring out of Melissa. She digs her nails into the table as she’s watching you flirt with him. Barb is watching the scene and rolls her eyes, she knows exactly what you’re trying to do and it seems to be working. Melissa also caught on to what you’re doing as she knows you’d never cheat on her, but she can’t help but be jealous that someone is trying to claim you. Your body is hers for the taking and she’s the only one that can claim you.

At the end of the day, Melissa made a beeline for your classroom and saw you were packing up your things. She walks in, closes the door and walks right up to you. You turn around and you see her come right up to you and kiss you. She places her hands on your hips and digs her nails in you a bit.

“I wonder if I should edge you or make you come over and over and over again tonight.” She tells you with her seductive voice and you shiver. “Hm, you look so innocent right now, even though a few hours ago you were flirting with someone else.” She says.

“I…I-I…” You were trying to say something to her but it got hard when her mouth went to your neck and started kissing it, whatever you were going to say, you completely forgot what it was.

Melissa pulled back and titled your chin so you could look at her. “Whatever explanation you have, I don’t want to hear it. Just know that you’re mine and tonight I’ll remind you of that.” She says, she then gives you a quick kiss on the lips and starts walking out. “You coming? I mean I did drive us both here today.” She tells you and you quickly grab your stuff and follow her out.

In the car, she teases you by rubbing up and down your thigh on the entire drive to her place. At her place, she makes you dinner and proceeds to rub up and down your leg with her foot for most of dinner. After you both digested a bit, she then brings you to the bedroom and she closes the door before spinning around to face you.

She walks over to you and you begin backing up until you hit the bed frame and you fall on the bed. Melissa proceeds to straddle your lap and kisses your lips. She runs her hands through your hair and at one point she tugs it a bit as she pulls back and you look at her. “You’re mine Y/N, and I’ll make sure you won’t ever forget that.” She tells you and you stare at her. “Now be a good girl tonight and do exactly as I tell you, is that clear?” She asks you and you nod. You squirmed a bit as she said that, her calling you a good girl made your mouth dry as all the wetness shot straight to between your legs. She got off your lap and made you move further up near the headboard. As you did, you saw that she got something from the closet and came back and put it in the nightstand.

She straddled your lap again and continues kissing your lips. She moves her hands from your stomach and connects your hands with hers. She then moves her mouth downward and starts kissing all over your neck. She moves her hands from yours and proceeds to take your shirt off as she pulls her mouth away from your neck. She immediately attaches her mouth back to your neck and starts sucking, marking you as hers, just like she wants.

When she’s satisfied with the amount of hickeys on your neck, she removes your bra and flings it behind her, not caring where it lands. She gets you to lay on your back and her mouth goes to a nipple. She starts licking and sucking on it and you keep moaning and bucking your hips. You put your hands in her hair and she lets out a moan when you accidentally tugged on her hair a bit.

She removes her mouth from your nipple and goes to reach in the nightstand. She pulls out a piece of rope. She ties it to the bed frame and then ties your hands so they’re above your head and can’t reach her. She then takes her shirt and bra off and you whine at not being able to touch her.

“Bad girls don’t get to touch, if you’re a good girl tonight then you can touch me all you want after.” She tells you as she gets off the bed and takes your pants and underwear off. She takes her pants and underwear off right after.

The sun has just about set so instead of using the lights, she lights 2 candles and sets one on each nightstand. When you look up at her with the candlelight, it truly is a romantic sight. Melissa gets on top of you and starts grinding your thigh. You whimper as all you can do is watch as she’s restrained you from being able to reach up and touch her all you want.

You knew Melissa has a possessive and jealous side, you’ve never tried to see it to the full extent before, but you’ve seen glimpses when other people try and flirt with you. You’ve seen her send those people death glares and you’ve felt her arm wrap around you where they can see it when they start to flirt. A clear signal that she’s sending them that you’re hers and only hers.

“Sei mia, tutta mia .” She says as she gets close to an orgasm from your thigh rubbing her clit. She comes with a moan, leaving a wet patch on your thigh.

She bends down to kiss you. She runs a hand up and down your leg as she kisses your neck. She starts to bite your neck and you moan and buck your hips. You can’t do anything as she has your hands tied and her body on yours, from feet tangling together all the way up to her mouth on your neck. She trails down and wraps her mouth around a nipple. She licks, sucks and bites it and you’re moaning and squirming underneath her. She does the same to the other one and you don’t know how much more you can take before you need her inside you.

When she’s satisfied with her work on your nipples, she then leaves a trail of kisses down your stomach right to your clit. You gasp out when she reaches where you need her but she just kisses your clit then pulls back. You whine and pull against the rope and she chuckles. She then undoes the rope and tells you to get on your knees and face the mirror while she goes to the closet. You do so immediately and she smiles at you obeying without question.

“Look at you obeying immediately, what a good girl.” She says as she comes back over with a strap on. She then gets behind you and lines the strap with your entrance and then slowly slides in. You gasp out at finally being filled and you look at her in the mirror when the straps all the way in. You see her mouth hanging open a bit and you know it rubbed her clit, she’s just as desperate as you. She starts pumping in and out of you and you have your head down as the pleasure is overwhelming. “Look at me baby.” She says and you don’t do it at first as you’re enjoying the pleasure she’s giving you. Then she stops suddenly and you snap your head up at her. “I told you to be a good girl. Bad girls don’t get to touch or cum. Is that clear?” She asks and you nod. “Good, now look at me through the mirror as I fuck you.” She says breathlessly.

She continues pumping and you look at her through the mirror and she smirks. She continues pumping fast and hard and you’re getting closer and closer to coming. She finds your clit and starts rubbing it fast and that’s enough to send you over the edge, and she then speeds up a bit and then moans out as she comes.

Melissa then pulls out of you, pulls your body up so that your back is pressed against her chest and she puts her head on your shoulder. She then sticks 2 fingers in your entrance and you moan out at the feeling of her fingers in you. She puts her free hand on one of your boobs as she starts pumping her fingers in you. “You’re being such a good girl tonight, I think you deserve to come a second time. What do you think?” She asks and it takes your brain a second to process what she says and then you nod. “Oh no my baby, I want to hear you say it.” She whispers in your ear and you shiver.

“Y-yes, I deserve to come a second time.” You manage to get out and she smiles as she nuzzles her face in the crook of your neck as she continues to pump in you. She then adds her thumb to your clit and you gasp out.

“You’re mine.” She whispers softly and you almost didn’t hear it. It sounds as if she’s trying to convince herself that instead of you. She continues to rub your clit and pump in and out of you. You suddenly then come and if she wasn’t holding you up then you would have fell forward. You take a few seconds to catch your breath and then she moves you both so you can cuddle. “I hope it wasn’t too much for you.” She says as she moves a few strands of hair out of your face.

“No, it was amazing. You know I always knew you had a jealous side but didn’t know it would be to that extent. I mean I barely flirted with him.” You tell her and she laughs.

“I know you flirted with him because my reaction was making you excited. I saw your face.” She tells you and you smile.

“I hope you know I would never cheat on you, I love you too much to ever do that.” You say genuinely and she kisses you.

“I know, I love you so much baby.” She says and then brings you closer.

“Hang on, you said I could touch you all I want after. And I want to touch you everywhere.” You tell her and groans and then goes on her back as you get on top of her.

“You’re going to be the death of me, I just know it.” She says with a giggle.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta

@imaginesmultifandoms

@idonothingalldays-blog

@sexysapphicshopowner

@dvrkhcld

@lilfartbox1

@ricejucie

@unicorniusfallapatorius

@a-queen-and-her-throne

@sleep-deprived-athlete

@og-kxsh-420

@sasheemo

Let me know if you want to be added!

[floofeh-purpi]

Getting Isekai'd?! (Part 4)

Sagau! Genshin Fatui x Gn! Reader (ft. Your bsf)

『Beloved fluffball/s mentioned below! 💜』

@justmare @mc-cos-charm

YEY NEW FLUFFBALL, HIII!!!

☆

Sidenote: CUS ITS BEEN RAINING IN MAINLA HINDI KABA NILALAMIG?! (Song reference lol) 😫

Warnings: Cursing, grammatical/spelling errors, my delulu-ahh brain forgot to write english isnt my first language and im too lazy to edit the other warnings again, me probably switching the povs alot because... yeah, filipino reader maybe speaking tagalog and bisaya, mentions of you having a wound on one of your feet, blood, author's shitty attempts at making you laugh.

【Part 3】

☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆★☆

You eventually woke up from your nap coma with a sore ass throat and a somehow still fully batteried phone. "Ok, how the fuck is my phone still 100%?! 😰 But atleast I dont have to wait 2 hours to charge my phone lmao." You mused out inside your head cus you'd say it out loud ur throat would even more sore than it already fucking is.

"I should've bought a water bottle with me earlier... ☹" You thought as you putted your phone inside one of the pockets of your pajamas and slowly went downstairs and went to the kitchen.

You sneaked into the kitchen undetected by guests. Because all you wanted to do right now was sleep again rest. Anygays, you gobbled the entire glass of water within one go and putted the glass into the sink. "Nah, y/b/f/n's gonna wash them dishes today lmao." You thought before you plugged your earphones into your phone and listened to your playlist while humming softly to the song before going upstairs.

☆

The harbingers heard someone humming in where they assumed is the kitchen before someone passed by the living room still humming and with a tiny-ahh smile going upstairs. "Oh my~ Who was that beautiful person~?" Asked the Damselette. Its true though, you were the prettiest person y/b/f/n met. "That was Y/n. :)" The harbingers and the Tsaritsa's eyes widened at that name. But are still in denial because they need to confirm just one more thing. Denial, denial, denial IS a river in Eygpt 💀🙌

☆

You eeked mentally when your playlist started playing 'Good Looking by Suki Waterhouse' (Recommend listening to it 10000/10) since you dont have spotify premium and you ran out of skips. 😔

You sat down on the chair infront of your desk, which was messier than dogshit. "Omfg im too lazy to clean it up rn 😭🙌" you thought before you grabbed some paper that you totally didnt rip out from y/b/f/n's notebook like 2 days ago before yall were isekai'd and started drawing basically a city. Aka the city you lived in before this fiasco happened.

*Insert your drawing here cus I cant find anything that was close to my imagination 🥲*

After you finished drawing, you gave your arms a very well needed stretch you desperately needed that shit after sitting down with a posture looking like a fucking shrimp if you looked at what you looked like in the side for 3 fucking hours while your earphones were still playing music, "Finally done, im tired again lmao" you thought before you slept on your chair like when its math class 💔 because you were too fucking sleepy to even get out of your chair its comfier that those damned armchairs you'd sleep on during math class. 💀

But then, your foot accidentally hitted the leg of the table so fucking hard, that it caused the sleepiness in you to go *poof* "PUTANG INA NING LAMESA 👹" (Fuck this table) you yelled loud enough for only yourself to hear you held back your tendency to scream out filipino curses loud enough for the entire damn universe to hear you because... well, the people downstairs... Are downstairs...—

You felt your atoms and dna coursing inside you still shaking at the collision of your foot and the table, whats even worse is that the foot was the one that was wounded, which made the pain all the fucking worse.

"Bandages be damned. I need to fucking change these little shits. Bweshet nih. 😔" You cursed out loud as your throat wasnt as sore as earlier we call it mineral water for a reason /jk, you made your way into your bathroom while not walking normally.

♤

You were just drinking some water in kitchen peacefully, and of course your clumsy ass hand somewhat slipped and you accidentally dropped it onto the floor... and your foot. You winced at shards of bloodied glass digging into the flesh of your foot as sat on the nearest chair while y/b/f/n tended to your wound/s OHMIGASH KILIG NAKO AYIEEEEEEE!!!!!

♤ (End of flashback)

You got some bandages which were fortunately on the sink from the last time you changed your bandages and forgetting to put it back to its original place AGAIN, but you didnt give a shit rn. But as soon as you unwrapped your bandages, instead of the crimson blood you were expecting to see on your wound, the blood was... golden.

"...What the fuck?"

☆

YEY FINISHED PART 4!!! My hands are tired from holding the phone but its ok ❤

Filipino readers where u at? 😭

【Part 5】

Published: June 30 2024. 10:38pm.