#life is only going to get worse and harder from here

[monstersflashlight]

Commission for Elise

Request: Househusband (Monster) x Chubby Fem Reader x HouseWife Fem Friend: Reader is a big CEO at her own company and because of this she is never home (workaholic). So because of this her partners start to feel neglected and while they try to tell her she doesn’t really understand (not paying attention). This is really all I have for the premise. I didn’t really know what direction to take this so feel free to take it in any direction.

Mastering the CEO

Orc x fem!human x chubby fem!reader || hurt/comfort, sharing is caring, degradation (very light), oral sex, dom/sub dynamics

You arrive home late, as always. You know you promised your partners to be there for dinner, but once again being the CEO of your own company is shitty if you want to have some kind of life-work balance. You are feeling pretty shitty about breaking your promises, and it only gets worse when you open the door and find them cuddling on the sofa.

Your stomach clenches with longing, and they say nothing. Not a single word. You try really hard not to scream, your nerves fried after a long day, and them giving you the cold shoulder only makes you want to hide in the closet and fall asleep for a whole week.

But you are an adult. You are a successful woman, you can totally be assertive about this. You know you fucked up and broke a promise, but you are here, you can fix this.

“Hey! I’m sorry I’m late, work was very…” You try to explain as you approach them. You want to throw yourself across their laps, sharing some of their warmth after a killer day.

But your wife is not having any of that. “Always is, isn’t it?” Your wife comment makes your jaw clench, a spark of fury mixes with the uneasiness in your heart. You can’t snap at her, you can’t. She did nothing wrong, you try to repeat yourself.

“Huh? Are you okay?” Your husband says when he looks at you, he’s frowning, worry looking bad in his precious green face.

“Yes. Nothing happened. I’m… I’m going to bed,” you finally say when they do nothing to make you feel welcome in their cuddle pile.

You turn to leave when your wife mutters: “As always.”

You frown, turning around and snapping at her: “What do you mean by that?!”

And that’s all it takes for her to snap back. “You are never here anymore! We barely touched in the past month! It’s like you aren’t even a part of this marriage!” Her words cut so deep you have to rub your chest, trying to alleviate some of the pain.

You are speechless, gaping like a fish as she stares at you and your husband stands silently to her side. You can see his hand going up and down her back, comforting her. You almost want to cry, you want some of that comfort, too. You wanted to argue, to tell her to fuck off, but seeing them across from you like you were an outsider made your insides crumble.

“I… I…” You have no excuses. “I’m sorry,” you finally let out, a sob stuck in your throat and tears filling your eyes.

“Oh shit,” your husband says at the same time your wife lets out a sob of her own.

And before you realize, you two are crossing the distance and hugging as you cry your eyes out against each other. Your husband, being the emotional stunt orc that he is, just stands close to you two, patting your backs and mumbling sweet words that mean absolutely nothing. You almost want to laugh, but you can’t stop crying. After all the stress and anxiety, after all the extra hours and not touching your partners in so long, you feel a little bit more than touch starved.

“I’m so sorry, I’ve missed you guys so much, but I… I can’t. There’s so much to do, and I can’t do it all, and the naga from accounting left and, and…” You are trying to explain, but your words are muffled on her neck as she rubs your back softly, mumbling love words against your head and making you cry harder.

Your orc husband takes that as a sign that he should join, his big arms coming around the both of you, squeezing you together and grunting as he pulls you up a few centimeters just because he can. You let out a wet laugh, and your wife does the same.

“Are you better?” She asks you, her hands groping and hugging and pinching every part of you she can reach. It’s like she’s trying to make sure you are real, that you are there with them.

“I… I should be the one asking that,” you tell her with a chuckle.

“I’m okay, it’s been very stressful weeks. But you are here now, right?” You nod, sniffling. She coos at you, and your insides do a flip. Her eyes darken as she pulls back from you, and you know exactly what that means. When she says: “You need to be punished for neglecting us,” you already expected it, and your pussy is getting wet.

There’s only one possible response to that: “What do you want me to do, Mistress?” You look intensely at her as she pulls back completely, grabbing your husband’s hand and pulling him along. They walk to the bedroom, and you follow like a lost puppy.

She stands in the middle of the room when she announces: “You are going to eat me out, and then you are going to suck his dick… And when we are done, if we feel charitable enough… we might let you come, too.” Her words make your blood boil, and you want nothing more than to fall to your knees and comply with her orders, but not coming? You’ve been tortured enough by work.

“What?! I can’t come?” You try not to sound too offended, but you fail miserably.

“If you are good…” Your orc adds with a smirk, his tusks glistening under the soft light.

“That’s not fair,” you say with a pout.

“Don’t talk about what’s fair when I haven’t seen your pussy in over a week because of your crazy work hours,” your husband’s tone is dark, almost dangerous. You always forget how dominant he can get, and how fucking much you love it. And it only adds to your wife’s dark eyes, making you want to whimper. “Get naked, now,” your husband orders.

You comply, rushing to get your suit off your body, getting your bra twisted in your arm and almost falling in your hustle to get it out. They only stare at you, making you all kinds of embarrassed, which only adds to your growing arousal. They take off their pajamas, and all three of you are looking at each other, drinking the other’s nakedness.

But your wife is not exactly patient. “On your knees, is time for you to pleasure us,” your wife order leaves no room for arguing.

You fall to your knees in front of them in a second. That’s harsh, and you almost want to tell her that, but you don’t, you do as told and cross your arms behind your back. She pulls back, sitting on the edge of the bed, a few feet away from you.

Her next order catches you prepared: “Crawl to me.” You are more than happy to obey that one, especially when she opens her legs and you see how pretty her pussy is. “Hands behind your back, honey. You can suck and lick, but you can’t touch.”

You launch yourself to her, face first on her pussy, licking and sucking and going completely berserk on her. It’s fantastic. She tastes like home, and when your husband pushes the tip of his green dick against your cheek, you can’t do anything but to pull back for a second to give him some attention, too. It continues like that, alternating between sucking your wife’s clit and your orc’s tip, making both of them moan as you get increasingly desperate.

Their taste, their touch… They are driving you crazy as you give them what they asked for. But it’s not enough, for neither of you. Your orc starts grunting, his big hand coming around his shaft as he starts jerking himself next to your face. You look up at him, tongue out and eyes hooded. He curses, and grabs your hair, directing your face back to your wife’s pussy. You eat her like you are starving, but not three seconds later he’s pulling your head back and jerking himself furiously over her center.

As soon as he comes, he kneels behind you, groping and touching every inch of your body. His big hands make you feel almost little, but he never lets you forget how much he loves your rolls and your big breasts, the curve of your hips and your soft belly. He caresses and gropes like he’s worshiping you, and it’s so distracting you stop licking your wife for a few seconds, enticing a low growl from her that if you didn’t know better you’d thought she’s the orc one. But no, your pretty human wife is pulling at your hair and redirecting your mouth right where she wants it.

You feast on her, using every trick you know to make her fall into pieces. She comes against your tongue, her juices mixing with your husband’s come, making everything sticky and perfect as you devour every little drop of pleasure and desire off her.

They are panting, your wife’s hands in your hair, your husbands on your boobs… “Can I come, please, Mistress? Please, Master?” You look at them as you beg, your eyes are teary and your pussy is clenching painfully over nothing, your husband’s touch only making it harder for you.

“Get on the bed, it’s our turn now,” she says darkly. “You better call in sick tomorrow, we’re going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to go to the office tomorrow.” Her eyes are dark, and her smile dangerous, and the way your husband pulls you up and throws you to the bed only makes you let out an embarrassing screech before there’s hands and mouths all over you and you are crying out their names.

[schizoidalia]

Sometimes I get so pissed off I want to kill myself which may seem counterintuitive but does immediately end the situation for me thus meaning I've still ultimately won

[kira-akira]

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

[loves0phelia]

Hi! I don’t know if you’ve watched part 2 of outer banks yet, and if you didn’t this request is a spoiler!!

Can you do JJ Maybank’s sister seeing him die and Rafe is just watching her break down and he’s comforting her while she cries in his arms? I’m sobbing over JJ right now 😭

Thank you!

Gone

Summery: outer banks season 4 episode 10/the anon

Words: 1.6k

Warnings: SPOILERS, death, grammar mistakes.

A/N: i also sobbed, i cant believe it and thank you for requesting love youuu.

The sandstorm hit suddenly. The air was thick, nearly solid with dust. You stumbled forward as the wind blew strongly, You screamed, begging JJ to come down before something terrible would happen but even if you pulled the scarf tighter across your nose and mouth every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass making it hard to speak. 

Everything was clouded and your goggles were smeared with sand dust. It was impossible to see your brother who was up high on that statue trying to find the blue crown you, the pogues and Rafe have been risking your lives for.

“Come down JJ!” You screamed as loud as you could, hoping he could hear you over the screaming wind. 

A surge of panic rose in you, he wasn't listening, only going higher and higher to reach the top.

“Hurry please!” You screamed again as the sandstorm was getting worse and worse. Squinting your eyes you could see JJ finally descending the statue after a while, carefully holding on to the rock.

“JJ, holy shit are you okay?” You rushed forward to him as he stumbled around frantically.

“I'm good! I'm better actually, I'm great. Look!” he yelled over the storm and held up the blue crown, it felt like a dream having it in front of you.

“No way, you found it” You both looked down at the dusty historical crown in silence for a second, sinking in it the victory that was so rare when it came to you and your twin.

“We got it!” He cheered, pumping his fist, jumping into place from all the adrenaline. The victory cheers didn't last long though, the next thing you knew shots were fired at you from the group who wanted to steal what was rightfully yours.

“Run, run, run” JJ shouted behind you as you ran through the sand blindly and desperate to find shelter.

The sandstorm roared with life around you, Yours and JJ's footsteps vanished almost as quickly as you made them, erased by the wind.

You coughed, your lungs stinging as you struggled to run down the stairs you had found leading inside the monument. 

But suddenly, a shadow appeared out of the storm. A strong hand gripped your forearms and in a sudden movement, your back was pressed on your “father's” chest, an arm around your neck holding on tightly, cutting your airflow and a sharp blade pressed into the side of your face.

“JJ!” you called out, trying to get out of his grasp.

“Let her go!” JJ shouted, his voice trembling with anger. He lunged towards you trying to rip you away from him but he only pressed the blade harder making you cry out. But Groff only shook his head.

You cried, struggling, and your heart pounding as Groff’s grip tightened. You fought against him, but his hold was unbreakable.

“You’re just like your mother,” Groff hissed, his gaze cold and unmoved. “Always standing in my way. Well, this time, you’re not going to stop me. Give me what I want”

“Let her go” He begged.

“If you had listened, we wouldn't be here JJ, you could have had everything. WE could have had the life we deserved as a family. All three of us. But now you get nothing. Nothing at all” Chandler pants like a maniac.

“I already have everything,” JJ says, shaking his head in disbelief. “I have everything I ever wanted. You want the crown? Sure, take it. I don't want it. Just let my sister go.”

“Give it to me, hold it out” He reached toward JJ for the precious object, his grip on you not loosening.

In a swift moment, an exchange was made. Groff grasped the crown, and JJ pulled you out of his arms.

“I got you” JJ breathed out with relief, like a weight was removed from his shoulders. He hugged you protectively. Holding your head against his shoulder like a shield. But then again, the victory was cut short.

“JJ, y/n” you were interrupted by the voice of your father, his call made both of you separate and turn to face him, JJ’s body still shielding you from further harm.

“It's a shame…you and I” You furrowed your brows and a gasp came out of your mouth when the sound of flesh being pierced rang out. 

“You should have given me the rope” Time was moving at a slow pace as the scene unfolded. Groff twisted the knife in JJ's stomach before pulling it out rapidly and running out into the desert.

"JJ!" You screamed, your voice raw with terror. You saw JJ stumble back, his hands flying to his side. Dark red blood was spreading through his shirt and across his fingers, and the sight of it hit you like a punch to the gut.

The world narrowed to the scene in front of you as you watched JJ fall, his face contorted in pain. 

“No, no, no” you cried, desperation thick in your voice.

You rushed to JJ’s side, catching him just as he stumbled. He looked up at you, his face pale and stained with tears.

“It's okay JJ, it's okay” You pressed into his wound, shaking terribly, sobbing when he let out a pained groan.

“No, please” you murmured, pressing your hand over the wound in a desperate attempt to slow the bleeding. “You’re going to be okay. Just stay with me, okay? Stay with me.”

“Hey, hey,” He whispered, his voice breaking. “Take care of the others for me, okay?”

“No! No” Your breaths shakes, your chest tight with sadness.

“I love you, y/n. You're the best sister anyone could ever have.” His gaze was beginning to drift, his eyes unfocused, and the strength in his grip was fading. Panic clawed at you.

“I love you, please don't go” you begged, but it was pointless he was already gone.

“No! No, no. Please! JJ, please” you shaked his shoulder weakly.

“John B!” You screamed, your chest burning from the lack of oxygen your lungs were getting.

“Pope! Rafe!” Your hands gripped your brother refusing to let go.

“Please JJ!” Your heart shattered completely, a part of you gone forever. Your brother, your twin, your best friend, the other half of your soul, gone. 

“Please” You pressed your forehead against him, your tears falling over the blood-soaked shirt.

The pogues came running towards you, sinking to their knees, calling out to him, crying, sobbing, mourning.

Everything in you gave out as you held onto him, you couldn't even fight when hands grabbed onto your shoulder to bring you away from your brother's corpse.

Your body fell limp into Rafe's lap. His hands held your body up as if he was your lifeline. 

“It's gonna be okay” He whispered against your forehead but you barely registered any of it, only sobbing, and screaming in pain against him. 

The Pogues stood in a tight circle, all eyes fixed on JJ as if somehow their stares alone could bring him back. But no one spoke, and in the heavy silence, the truth crashed over them, settling deep in their bones. JJ was gone.

Kiara’s shoulders shook, a small, trembling motion that quickly overtook her entire body. She fell to her knees, hands pressed to her mouth as she fought to hold back the sobs. 

Pope was beside her, his eyes frantically looking over the scene, he didn't want to believe any of it, as if it was a cruel joke.

John B stood, rigid.  His fists were clenched so tight his knuckles were white, and his jaw was set, teeth gritted as he tried to hold it all in, to keep the pain from breaking him apart. 

Rafe's arms wrapped around you gently, his hand resting on the back of your head as he let you fall into his chest. You buried your face in his shoulder, the grief and sorrow pouring out in waves as he held you.

He didn’t speak of the rivalry, the old wounds and the bitterness between your families; none of that mattered now. At this moment, all he saw was your pain, and he was there, his own heart breaking a little as he watched you crumble.

When the sobs finally subsided, leaving you weak and exhausted, Rafe pulled back slightly, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with something you’d never seen in him before—softness, understanding. 

“It's okay,” he murmured, his voice a promise, his hand gentle as he brushed a stray tear from your cheek. “I’ve got you.”

You sat on the sand as a fire crackled in front of you, you had just buried him, the silence was thick nobody wanted to believe the truth. 

Your head pounded, even when you were softly laying on Rafe's legs using them as pillows. His calloused fingers gently rubbed your hair and you tried to concentrate on the movement in an attempt to forget about the previous moment but you failed.

“Groff said he was going to Lisbon” Rafe whispered above you, making your eyes open and looking up at him. His eyes met yours and he continued.

“If he was my friend or my brother… I would go after the guy that just killed him” The mention made your heart burn but he had a point.

“He's not wrong” Kie whispered, agreeing with your inner thoughts. You snuggled against Rafe's legs one last time before sitting up and leaning your head on his shoulder. 

“JJ would already be on his way to kill him if it was one of us,” you said and everyone's eyes snapped towards you, those were the first words you had spoken since it happened. 

“He'd get even,” John B added.

“Let's get revenge,” you said, your voice more confident than it was before, you felt a hand grasp onto yours and slowly you turned your head to face Rafe. He nodded and tightened his grip in a comforting way, never letting go.

Send request please xx

[yanderenightmare]

Okkotsu Yuuta

♡ TW: noncon, yandere, kidnapping, bondage, revenge, bully reader 

♡ FEM reader

Thinking about the major power trip Yuuta went through once he figured out how to control his cursed energy. 

Here’s this loser who’s been bullied all throughout life for being such a loner, who suddenly gains unlimited and unsupervised power to do whatever he wants. And he’s never once stood up for himself out of fear that Rika would take it too far—but he’s fully in control now and free to do all those things he’s been too scared to do before.

You used to be one of those bullies back in the day—one of those pretty girls who would laugh and sneer at him while other goons would do their worst of swirlies and wedgies and gut punches. He hasn’t seen you in years already, but there hasn’t been a day he hasn’t thought about you. Old, twisted emotions of hatred and want brewing in the darkest pits of his gut. He can still remember that evil look of glee in your eyes each time you’d say or do something horrid.

He wonders if he has that same awful look in his eyes now as he stands over you—terrified, lying in his bed with your hands and feet tied.

He doesn’t even remember how he got you there. He must have blacked out completely, and yet, the knots of rope are tied so neatly he must have known what he was doing.

You’re in what you wore to bed—a pair of panties and a little crop top. He’s actually never seen a girl so bare before—only two flimsy articles away from being naked. It makes him blush—big and dour-eyed, scanning every curve of your smooth skin, feeling his throat get tight.

Your mouth’s taped shut—he isn’t interested in anything you’d have to say. But he’s left your eyes. He can’t tell if you recognize him. But the fear within them makes him feel so good he’s never been harder in his entire life.

Still, he doesn’t know if he can go through with it. It’s a strange feeling—how your shivering and tears make him feel both ashamed and yet so very horny he might cum in his pants just from looking at you. 

He thinks of the you from back then—what an absolute bitch you were—all your mean words and hard glares, ugly comments whispered in your friend’s ear while looking down on him, giggling behind a hand as if it were some big secret you were talking shit—as if you hadn’t just poured rotten milk over his head in front of everyone.

Yeah… you deserve this.

You try worming away from him once he crawls on top of you, but the way he’s tied you makes it a pointless struggle. It should make him feel worse, but oddly enough, it just makes him want to touch you more. Your skin is so soft it gives him chills, manhandling you just the way he sees fit. 

It seems crazy to him that something with teeth as sharp as yours can also look like the sweetest thing in the world. To anyone else, he must look like the bad guy. But he knows, and you know—you’re no victim.

With your hands tucked under your back, you’re completely pinned beneath him as he straddles your legs. You whine, but he pays you no mind—carefully lifting your top up further.

His body sags with a sigh at the sight. They’re even more perfect than he’d dreamed, and they feel even better in his hands—soft and squeezable.

It’s so fucked up—you have the ugliest personality he knows, and yet you're just as pretty as he remembers. He hates you, and yet you’re the only one he wants this way.

He bends down and wraps his mouth around your nipple—it’s perky and warm and makes him groan with a shudder—rocking his clothed bulge against your thigh with a string of moans.

He can’t believe your pussy is just a thin little layer of cotton away—waiting for him just beneath a pink print of cartoon bunnies. He doesn't know why, but he really likes that more than the black lace he’d expected. 

Suppose it makes you fit the role more—his prey.

Just knowing he’s going to fuck you makes him feel like the most powerful guy in the world. He wants to make you cum until you can’t even remember your own name.  He wonders if you’re a virgin, too, but he doubts it.

“I’ve seen you had so many tongues down your throat, it wouldn’t surprise me if you’ve had dick just as much.”

But that’s okay. He’s going to make sure this time is special. 

His body drapes yours with all its weight as endless thoughts of what he’s going to do to you flood his head. He moans, making drool spill over your chest where his mouth covets your breast while he keeps rutting into you—he’ll make you feel so good you fall in love with him.

And it’s sad how the thought alone instantly makes his boxers fill with stickiness.

And it’s only sadder as the post-nut-clarity hits because he’s left with a heavy feeling of grief for not having filled your womb instead. 

♡ OKKOTSU YUTA masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[kooktrash]

TEMPEST ☆ jeon jungkook

summary: you’ve always considered your life to be more mundane than you would like to admit. it was a constant cycle of the same things over and over again that when you meet jeon jungkook at a bar, of all places, you didn’t expect to see just how much he would change your life and those around you. he’s got an air of mystery around him with his charming good looks and a violent past that you slowly begun to unravel when it feels like everything is going perfect.

☆ genre/au: obsessed!jungkook x college student!y/n [afab, she/her]

☆ 31k words [😭]

warnings: soft yandere. smut. jk is a little delulu. toxic. manipulation. gaslighting. underground streetfighter by night, gym owner by day. he’s intimidating and a huge asshole to everyone but y/n—hes aggressive but he hides it. calvin klein jk. spoiler: he slutshames oc’s bff but she’s snakey. depictions of violence [streetfighter, aggressive, he beats a man with a brick deadass, and physically assaults someone]. He’s not a good guy. dom/sub/switch themes but not intense. rough sëx. multiple rounds. oral [both recieving]. missionary. riding. needy and clingy jk. possessive jk. jk is good at pretending. jk has familial problems. severe abandonment issues. unprotected smüt but also only for one round [they go for two]. oc is aware of his red flags but does oc care?

tempest by deftones

There was something about someone seeming unattainable that always seemed to draw him in the most. It’s almost like he enjoyed making things harder for himself, like he wanted to make a game of it. Of course it wasn’t a good thing for him to do this especially not when it was at the expense of another person’s emotions but he couldn’t help it. When someone as beautiful and bright as the person across the bar from him catches his attention, how was he not supposed to want them for himself?

You didn’t look shy, maybe just quiet, or mysterious would suit you better. There was a sense of wariness around you that he could spot from a mile away with the gaze you used to eye the crowded bar. Everyone here looked more rugged, a mix of band tees, leather jackets, motorcycle boots and smoke clouding the air. Even the women around were more fit for a place like this with their deep shades of red lipsticks, low-cut tops and tight jeans whereas you seemed to illuminate in a different light.

“When you said you wanted to get a few drinks, this isn’t what I thought you meant,” you said with distaste as you spotted a reddish-brown stain on the cement flooring of the bar looking eerily similar to washed up blood. It made your fingers tighten around your small handbag and the pink pepper spray you had inside it. You pressed your legs more firmly together, deeply regretting the satin miniskirt you wore and how little it covered you from behind. In your defense, you thought you would be going to a relaxing lounge bar with expensive champagne and servers dressed in suit and tie… not some run-down bar on the wrong side of the tracks.

“It isn’t? I could’ve sworn I specified,” your best friend lied with a grin as she took your hand in hers and directed you to the bar, “And it’s fine, we’re meeting some guys here tonight and you’ll start feeling comfortable soon. Just don’t look so prissy, Y/n, you might get robbed.”

“Or worse than that,” you mumbled to yourself as she leaned over the counter without a care of how her tight dress raised from the back and smiled flirtatiously at the bartender. You circled your arms around yourself in an attempt to appear smaller and more closed off—also hoping to hide the exposed parts of your torso. While she did most of the talking, you took in more of the area with a faint scrunch of your nose, clearly displeased by it all.

It was somewhat small, beer posters and neon signs on the wall. The bar was a long strip filled with scary men with tattoos all looking at you and your friend. There were a few tables here and there, dart boards on one side and a couple pool tables scattered around too. It was technically a one-story building aside from the lofted area that only seemed big enough for another pool table or two and a line of slot machines. The lighting was dim but not dark and maybe that’s what made it so easy for you to notice the eye contact you made with someone else.

He was… intense. He had the structure of someone you would find attractive but the look in his eyes nearly drew you away with just that. It was hard to pull away from it and it made your heart race. It wasn’t the look you gave someone on accident, it was purposeful and long, one that demanded to be noticed. He held a pool cue in his hands and was with a group of men you could barely make out but there was no denying he was more focused on you than whatever happened around him.

“You made it!” A voice cut into the blur of noise that you had tuned out, and suddenly your attention was taken away from the stranger. You looked at the two guys in front of you, brows scrunched with confusion as you studied them. They couldn’t have been more opposite from the man you just looked at with their pastel colored button-ups that screamed of years spent in a Fraternity. Still, not the type who would come to a place like this.

“Sorry we’re late, I take full blame since I forgot my wallet and had to drive back for it but I’m here now and I’m hoping I haven’t missed anything,” one of them said to your friend, as he pulled her into a hug and his hand slid down to her waist. Sieun smiled, “No worries, we haven’t been here long anyway.”

She turned to you with her hand pinned to his toned chest and pressed to his side, “Y/n, this is Rowoon.”

“Hey,” the guy said with a cocky nod of his head before looking at his friend, “That’s Jisoo, he’s a good buddy of mine.”

You raised an impressed brow but looked at his friend who seemed to have a quieter, more toned down nature that made you feel a fraction less uncomfortable. Maybe he didn’t care to be here either.

A familiar whooshing sound followed the movement of his pool cue as he aimed for a solid green number six and watched the ball sink into one of the holes. He couldn’t help but smile knowing how close he was to winning and only two more to go. With careful calculation to how he could make it in, he rounded the table looking for the best angle.

Facing the same direction as another earlier occurrence, he looked up for a second, searching the crowd below him with a quick sweep. The light he had found earlier was dimly lit behind a pair of lean shoulders that had his eyes narrowing. The guy’s back was to him and he towered over you obnoxiously that he could barely make you out. You weren’t at the bar anymore, now you were tucked away at some far table, smiling at whoever you talked to and he quickly did the math. Your friend and you had suddenly become four, two noticeable pairings that had him wondering if the pretty girl from earlier was taken. If so, how does he go about that obstacle? Does he still take his chances for a little bit of fun?

“Hurry it up man, I’m gonna piss myself already,” his friend, Hoseok, nearly cried as he shook his leg, tightening his grip on his pool cue. Jungkook didn’t say anything as he looked at you one more time, eying suspiciously at the sight of your smile disappearing and an awkward glance toward your friend replacing it.

He angled himself with the cue and aimed for a yellow number two before looking over, hardening his gaze as he watched you hold a hand up to the guy as if asking for some distance. He shot the cue without meaning to, and failed to notice how he pocketed the 8 ball too soon and lost.

“Well that was shit,” Namjoon sneered as he pushed off the high table he was leaning against and took Jungkook’s cue from him, “I thought you were better than this.”

Hoseok practically ran to the nearest bathroom as he won the round and Yoongi took his place, “Wow, he really is about to pee himself.”

“Whatever,” Jungkook huffed as he looked toward the staircase, “I think I’m gonna get another drink, go on without me.”

“Bring me one,” Yoongi called out but Jungkook was already heading down the steps, shouting back a quick, ‘Get it yourself’, and disappearing.

“Brat,” Yoongi muttered under his breath as he took the small chalk square and rubbed it on the tip of his cue.

“No, I don’t think I owe you anything, actually,” you said with an annoyed sigh as you looked up at Jisoo. What you had hoped would be a somewhat comfortable night quickly turned left when you realized the two guys Sieun invited were nothing but entitled law students wanting to get their dick wet. You should have recognized it sooner, it would have saved you all this time if you just went home instead of following along with your best friend’s ploy.

It had been alright at first but then the drinks became a couple too many and suddenly the nice guy you thought Jisoo was became an arrogant manchild who’s upset you won’t let him grind against you for a song.

“Come on, don’t be such a bitch about it, it’s just dancing,” Rowoon said, apparently attempting to play matchmaker for his best friend to get some tonight too. Your brows raised in disbelief before looking down at Sieun who seemed stunned. She was leaning against him with his arm secured around her waist and she made no move to pull away from him either.

“Y/n,” she bit her lip nervously, “You are acting kind of stuck up, they’ve been buying us drinks all night.”

A scoff left your lips, “Because they wanted to, Sieun. I never asked nor did I promise anything.”

“Whatever man, it’s not even worth it,” Jisoo said as he looked at his friend, “I knew you were going to have us hang out with spoiled bitches tonight.”

“Is that a way to talk about a someone standing right in front of you?” A deep voice cut in from a couple feet away and it took you all a moment to realize they were talking to Jisoo. You looked behind him at the man from upstairs, throat tightening in surprise by his darker aura up close. He was attractive, godly, and you couldn’t deny it when he stood near you now. He looked down at you with that familiar gaze from earlier and only looked away when Jisoo processed his intrusion.

“Hey, why don’t you turn around and mind your business, bro,” Jisoo said with a scoff. You looked at Sieun with worry but her eyes were trained on the stranger as he glared at Jisoo.

“I can’t when you’re shouting out your business for anyone to hear,” Jungkook said with a tight smile, “It just sounds like you can’t handle rejection, bro.”

“Is this guy bothering you?” He asked you in a gentle tone, not caring for the eyes on him as he grew closer to you, “I was just at the bar and I heard some of what he was saying and… well, I just couldn’t stand by when he disrespected you. I didn’t feel like it was right.”

“Yo, why don’t you fuck off already?” Rowoon asked as he pushed Jungkook by the shoulder, “Don’t create a problem where there isn’t or I swear I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” Jungkook asked as he stood straighter, “You’ll stick up for your buddy here? Because if that’s the case I can call a couple of my friends down too and make it a little more fair.”

As if called upon, they looked up to where Jungkook pointed and met Namjoon’s glare. The three were still playing pool but found what was taking Jungkook so long and looked down. You looked up too, mouth dry with anxiety as you turned to Sieun but she seemed intent on sticking to Rowoon’s side. The safest thing to do was to get away from a suddenly messy situation and take your friend home but she was more interested in talking Rowoon down instead.

Jungkook just smiled as he took a step back, “But that’s not necessary, I really just wanted to check on if she was alright or not so I can leave you guys alone now.”

You waited for the stranger to head back to the bar to speak and all you could do was call out to your friend. “Sie—“

“Whatever, fuck this shit is lame,” Jisoo huffed once the stranger was too far for earshot, “You guys do what you want I’m going somewhere else.”

“Yeah,” Rowoon said, trying to pry Sieun’s hands off him, “It’s gotten dead here anyway. I got what I wanted so let’s have fun somewhere else.”

“Wait for me,” she said giddily and you scoffed. She still wanted to go with them? “Sieu—“

“Look, if you don’t want to come out with us that’s fine but I’m not going to be rejected just because you aren’t into your guy,” she rushed to say as she began to walk away from you, “Call Jin, or an Uber and text me when you’re home.”

You looked taken back, surprised by her tone and it had your eyes narrowing with a sense of annoyance. You watched her walk off without you, completely surprised by her audacity to just leave you alone at a place you were clearly already uncomfortable at. You assumed you would be meeting up with others tonight but not somewhere like and not people like those guys. Sieun knew all along what she was dragging you into and wanted to paint you like the problem when you didn’t follow along to everything. They called you a bitch for fuck’s sake.

It was obvious what she said had been somewhat of a bluff considering she looked back at you like she still expected you to follow after her. Instead, you stood back looking indifferent to her departure and waited till she was out of sight to let yourself worry.

The spring night air was still chilly, too cold to be outside waiting for an Uber in the clothes you wore and you didn’t want to stand out there alone anyway. Your best bet was to wait at the crowded bar and pray no one put anything in your drink or something.

Jungkook was evidently surprised to see you alone out of the blue and sitting on the stool next to his, not bothering to even look his way as you focused on your cell phone. He couldn’t help but bite back a smile, thinking of what he should say and how he should say it. You barely reacted to him earlier but that wouldn’t stop him from trying. It was all about timing and patience.

“I’m sorry for butting in earlier,” Jungkook said in a gentle tone that drew your attention toward him, “It wasn’t my place at all and I should have just ignored it but I heard them go on for a while and no one was doing anything to stop it and I guess I just acted without thinking.”

You didn’t say anything for a moment, simply looked at him as if debating if it was even worth your time to respond. With a polite smile you said, “It’s fine, but thank you.”

“No problem,” he cleared his throat, “But uh, you shouldn’t surround yourself with guys like that.”

“Trust me I don’t,” you sighed, “It’s the first time I’m meeting them and it’ll also be the last. Sorry you got dragged into it.”

“I didn’t,” Jungkook said as he looked down at his drink thinking of what to say, “I uh… well, I saw you earlier and I guess it was the perfect excuse to talk to you. Does that make me seem like a hypocrite? Here I go trying to save you from being hit on while I wanted to do the same, shit.”

His suddenly shy and flustered demeanor amused you in a way you hadn’t expected. His exterior was rough with his tattoos, dark clothing and obvious chiseled body underneath. He also sported facial piercings you rarely get to see in person and he didn’t seem like the type to blush yet here he was with red cheeks and a nervous smile. It made you more keen on talking to him, made you feel flattered to leave him in such a state if you were being honest.

“I think I would have preferred if it was you instead,” You confessed, remembering back to the eye content you two held with each other when you first got to the bar. He had definitely taken notice of you from the beginning.

Your response caught him off guard and he had to stop his eyes from trailing down to your lips just to see how they looked when you said it. A smirk threatened to show as he sat straighter, “You’re making me blush. I’m Jungkook, Jeon Jungkook, I mean.”

“Y/n,” you said shortly as you looked at his soft rounded eyes that stared back into your own with curiosity. They were focused entirely on you again, “L/n.”

Y/n.

Y/n.

“So Y/n…” he swallowed dryly, “I see your… friends are gone, what are you going to do?” He sucked in his cheek to keep his expression still as he watched you crane your neck out with an exaggerated sigh. In all honesty, it was the perfect amount of exposure for him to press his lips to your delicate skin and leave a soft trail of kisses in their wake.

He wasn’t sure how to explain it, but you were so appetizing like he wanted to have a taste. Just one.

“I’m not sure,” you admitted as you looked down at your phone, “I’ve just been waiting for my ride to get here, but I should probably get going now.”

“Can I walk you out?” He asked. All it took was a simple nod of your head for him to be getting off the stool, stretching a hand out to you and helping you down. You took a moment to adjust your skirt that had risen when you were sitting and let him take your hand once more as you walked out.

It’s so strange knowing that if Jisoo had acted better, there was a chance you would be walking hand and hand with him instead. What was stranger was how your eyes had been on Jungkook at first too.

Eyes followed behind you like they had when you arrived and it made you nervous all over again. There was one thing to know people were looking at you, it was another to know people were glaring at you. Even if it wasn’t maliciously it felt like a lot to be stared at in a room you had never been in. Not to mention half of the men here gave you the serious creeps and now that you weren’t distracted by conversation, their wandering eyes were more noticeable.

“I’ve never seen you here before,” Jungkook stepped back to say into your ear over the loud music, essentially pulling you closer to him, “You don’t look like the type to hang around these parts.”

“Is it that obvious?” You asked, walking a little bit quicker to stay close. He slowed his walk to match yours better and cleared room for you to walk ahead of him as you went on, “Are you?”

“Am I?” He asked with slight confusion before he could fully process what you said and in an attempt to brush it off, he simply said, “Every now and then if I want something more lowkey.”

The two of you made it out in one piece but the red tesla Uber X that was supposed to pick you up was still a couple minutes away and it was cold. You wrapped your arms around yourself immediately after the cold hit and your teeth chattered loudly that he couldn’t help but look down at you. He didn’t want to grab you but he didn’t want you to freeze either, so he stepped closer so that you nearly touched and tried blocking you from the direction the chilly night air was blowing.

“You don’t have to wait with me, you’re probably cold too,” you said between trembling teeth, nearly jumping in place to warm yourself up. Jungkook just smiled as he looked down at you, “And leave you out here all by yourself? No thanks, I’m feeling fine, you’re the one who looks like you could use some more warmth.”

“I’m fine,” you lied, leaning into him without meaning to and feeling the body heat radiate off of him and cast you with a hint of warmth you desperately needed. If you had forgotten about Sieun ditching you for two guys, you remembered now and very clearly at that. She was probably off having fun and doing what they want while you practically froze outside.

“Come here,” he whispered gently, taking the initiative to just go for it and pull you into his arms. You were hesitant to let a stranger touch you — no matter how attractive he was — but it was just for a short moment while your Uber was a couple blocks away. You tucked yourself into him feeling his hands run up and down your arms as if to offer you further warmth and hugged you close.

You stayed against him for as long as you needed to until your ride was finally pulling up to where you stood and confirming you were their customer.

“Get home safe,” Jungkook told you and without thinking, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a goodbye before getting in the car with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown his way like it was nothing.

It took Jungkook a moment to bounce back. His face felt flushed and warmer than necessary and he stood at the end of the street watching the red Tesla drive off with his newest infatuation inside it.

“See, he didn’t leave.”

“Aye, Jungkook, mind telling us where you’re headed?” Hoseok asked as his friends from upstairs followed him out the club, “They thought you were ditching us for some chick.”

“Where’d she go anyway?” Yoongi asked, staring down the direction Jungkook was still facing, “And where’s her little friend? She was cute too.”

He thought about you for days. The very little amount of information he learned the other night played on a loop in his mind and he tried to dissect every little thing as if it’d help get closer to you. He hoped for anything that could fill the space of deep regret. How stupid could he be to not ask for your number?

It was such a rookie mistake and it made him want to gnaw at his skin. He had the chance to try and pursue it further and he had been too distracted by your innocent kiss to think properly. There were so many chances where he could’ve asked for your number but instead he just blanked. And how could he let himself be so distracted?

He’s hyper aware of his looks and how easy it was for him to charm someone but he never did anything about it. Every now and then he might indulge in time spent with someone else but anytime it started feeling a little too intense for his liking, he would end it quickly. Usually, he didn’t have to make the first move and people come to him. It makes it easier to turn them down that way too but he acted on impulse when he cut in. He wanted to get closer and once he’d done that he forgot how to act apparently.

How could he not ask for your number?

“You nervous?” Namjoon asked as he helped Jungkook wrap his hands with gauze. He was silent while Namjoon worked around him and it’s rare to not see him readying himself for a match. Jungkook could barely hear him speak as he listened to some rock song on full blast through his headphones. His mouth was practically sewn shut with how tight he held his jaw in place and his leg bounced with adrenaline.

When Namjoon freed one of his hands, he knocked the headphones off and looked at his friend, “What?”

“Are you nervous?” Namjoon asked again with a smirk this time, “You’re zoning out on me more than usual.”

“I’m trying to concentrate,” Jungkook said as he looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror of the locker room. The room was ugly green from old fluorescent lights and it reeked of sweaty gym equipment making it feel gloomy. It made him feel dirty.

He thought about you and your pretty outfit, the way it hugged your shape promiscuously in all the right places but also felt shy. Maybe that was part of your charm aside from your strong eye contact. You presented yourself shyly but he had a feeling that wasn’t the full truth of it. As if underneath your worrisome exterior, you had enough confidence to not need attention on you—even when you already have it. At least that’s what he thought when he saw you down in the crowd for the first time.

You had gone from someone attractive he had caught a glimpse of to someone he wanted to talk to. All you had to do was catch his eyes with yours and you had him thinking about you for days. When you willingly stepped into his arms and kissed his cheek, it had actually made him flustered. It was unexpected and cute, made his heart race just a little. Is that why he couldn’t let you be? Was it because his heart raced annoyingly while his head told him to let it go?

Stupid.

He was so stupid to let you go.

“It’s time.”

Namjoon gave him a reassuring pat on his shoulder and the two left the room ready to start. He played with the tape over his eyebrow piercing as he began to feel the slight rush set in when he was readying for a fight. The crowd was loud and cheering on whoever they were betting and most had a tendency to bet on him.

The opponent across from him was taller with broader shoulders and bleached blond spiky hair. He was glaring at Jungkook like he was trying to intimidate him but he just walked onto the mat calmly. The cheers around him grew louder, all chanting his name knowing he’d be taking home another win tonight.

The fight was going to be simple tonight, no eye gouging specifically but aside from that, no rules. He preferred them that way, he could practically do anything he wanted to win and he used everything he had, every time.

Just one, simple round.

”Look, I swear I didn't invite those guys again, plus Jimin is already here,” Sieun promised for the third time tonight as she pulled you closer to the front of the line where security was checking ID’s and taking fees. After nearly a week of ignoring her because of how she ditched you the past weekend, you grew bored of it and when she reached out to you, you responded. She does a lot of things to annoy you but you never care much to stay mad especially after knowing her for a couple years now. You were originally roommates your first year and developed into friends quickly after that.

She's more of a party girl than you are but it’s never bothered you before, even when some of the men she chooses to surround herself around are questionable. In all honesty, you don’t know how many friends she has aside from you and Jimin.

“I thought you guys were gonna cancel on me,” your friend said as he met with you two at the front. It was loud with flashing club lights and music that blared through your eardrums. He looked uncomfortable with everyone around but he tried to mask it with a smile.

Like yourself, Jimin rarely chose to go out so you would often find yourselves hanging out while scrolling through Sieun’s many posts of how great her night was. It was a choice and that’s why he was so hesitant to agree this time around. You practically had to beg him to join after Sieun begged you to come along too. There was some sort of underground ‘rave’ tonight at some abandoned warehouse not far from downtown and she had been buzzing about it for days.

You don’t even know where she heard of a place like this and when she waved the pink flier in front of your face, you were worried and curious. Now you find yourself surrounded by sweaty bodies drunk and high off who knows what while you try to anchor your worrying thoughts on your friend.

“I got you drinks,” he said, handing you both a cup, looking you up and down quickly and shifting his gaze away nervously. Sieun took hers and looked around, “Oh my god it’s so loud in here. There’s so many people, isn’t it fun?”

“Just don't run off like last time, we can’t afford to go looking for you again,” Jimin added, remembering back to the last time she got the two of you to come out with her. It was around Halloween and she left to go take shots with someone and before you knew it, she was gone. Her phone was in your purse after whining that she didn’t have pockets and it wasn’t until the next day you found out she made out with some guy before he paid for her cab to go home telling you how she blacked out.

“Jimin, don’t act like my dad and let’s just have fun,” she said, taking his hand in hers, trying to get his limp fingers to lace with her own, “I’ve got my two favorite people tonight.”

“Let’s take a shot then,” Jimin said with a sigh, letting go of her hand and turning toward you, flustered. You couldn’t help but laugh, “You’re such a pushover, y’know.”

“Yeah, whatever, it’s hard not to be when I’m friends with you two,” he joked as the three of you walked to the bar, “And just for clarification, I’m more of a pushover when it comes to you.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” You asked playfully as you got to the bar first, leaning against it as you waited for the bartender to notice you.

“Last weekend when you showed up at my door and crashed on my bed,” Jimin reminded you of the Saturday before. In a slightly tipsy mistake, you had been too annoyed with Sieun to do anything thoroughly and when you scheduled an Uber it was to Jimin’s place not yours. It had been the last saved address put into the app and you hadn’t cared to notice your mistake until you were so close to his apartment that there was nothing you really thought to do. It didn’t help that you had been distracted by the events of that night and the small moments with a handsome stranger.

“You let me in, you could’ve turned me away,” you joked knowing that he never would. You woke him up out of his sleep with a phone call asking to be let up and he tiredly let you kick him off his bed making him sleep in the living room. The next day you told him what happened [leaving out certain parts ] and he ignored Sieun because you did and he forgave her when you did.

A scoff left his lips, “Like I ever could.”

“What can I get you guys?”

You looked away from Jimin quickly, unsure how to feel after his mumbled words and quickly told the bartender what you wanted. An audible sigh was heard from his lips as he turned to Sieun, ready to feel her prying eyes mocking him silently like she usually did when the three were together. She seems to think he’s just your little shadow but he’s not.

“Where’s Sieun?” He asked suddenly, shifting his gaze back to you, “Did she go to the restroom?”

“I don’t know,” you said with a shrug, grabbing your card out of your wallet to pay, “She didn’t say anything?”

“Oh my god,” Jimin huffed, “I’m gonna look around real quick, just stay there.”

In all honesty, Jimin was kind of thankful for Sieun’s disappearance. He could take a moment and rethink what was on his mind. Tonight was not the night to ask you out, especially not at a place like this and not with Sieun who he was sure had already drank a little bit before getting here. She was a good girl but sometimes she was reckless and he cared about her too so he left to find her and escape you.

The warehouse was in decent condition for being turned into a club like this and big enough to get lost in. It was shameful to admit how easy it was for Jimin to get lost.

After the fight, Jungkook had a heavy sense of adrenaline still coursing through his veins. His win was a given and with a promise to buy his friends drinks tonight, he went out to celebrate, landing himself at the same place as you for the second time in his life.

One might think it was just coincidental that they both attended the same place a second week in a row or you could look at it from a different perspective. Once again, Jungkook was given a second chance. You had been on his mind for days and it must’ve worked some string of fate to bring you together again and he couldn’t let that go.

You haven’t noticed him yet but he doesn’t blame you. The place was huge and dark so even if he sat across the squared bar counter, you couldn’t see him past the bottles at the center and the bartenders checking each side. He could only see you because of one of the strobe lights that kept casting you in a green glow. He recognized your features quickly and was reminded all over again of the strange trance you seemed to put him in.

Jungkook wasn’t oblivious to the guy you had been talking to for a while and unlike last time, you didn’t seem uncomfortable at all. You seemed to enjoy his company and when he left in the same direction your bitch of a friend did, you looked sad. He watched and waited while you did, the minutes passing by and still standing alone he couldn’t take the sight of it any longer.

Jimin and Sieun took forever and the longer you stayed hogging the bar while people tried to order, the more uncomfortable you got being alone. It’s the only reason why you chose to go and find your friends yourself, hoping they weren’t off arguing somewhere.

The last thing you wanted to do was get through the thick crowds to find your friends when you could barely see through strobe lights and random flashes of blue or red. Faces blurred together with deep shadows that barely let you see anyone clearly and your cell service was awful right now. It left you at a stand still, unsure which direction to take and annoyed by it.

In the mix of unfamiliar faces, one began to change and it didn’t take long for you to recognize him. Jungkook didn’t shy away from your soft glare, looking at you with a glint of adrenaline. His heart was pounding in his chest making his mouth feel dry in surprise. He closed the space between you, taking in your appearance in front of him and with an urge to smile, and shyly pointed out, “You again.”

“Me?” You questioned dumbly, still trying to wrap your mind around this coincidence. How is it that you’ve run into this stranger twice and so suddenly? Sure, you thought about him briefly and you assumed that was the end of it.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” Jungkook said. Your brows furrowed together and he’ll admit your look of confusion hurt him a little. Had you already forgotten all about him and was he just making a fool of himself this time? As he waited for you to respond, his nails pushed into his palm in a closed fist trying to ease his nerves.

“Why?” You asked, barely giving him any sort of response before it was his turn again. You too thought you’d never see him again yet you asked because you wanted to know his reasoning.

Despite his growing anxiety that he was the only one who couldn’t get you out of his head, he smoothed his tone and said, “Because you make me nervous.”

“You’re lying,” you said with the hint of a smile that encouraged him to keep going.

“I’m not,” Jungkook admitted truthfully, a soft look in his eyes as he said, “And you have no idea how mad I was that I didn’t get your number.”

When you didn’t say anything it made his smile falter, “Or did you already forget all about me?”

With a roll of your eyes, you released a small sigh and shook your head no. If anything you were forgetting your search for your friends because he was too distracting. A new smile spread across his features and he looked down at your full hands, “You plan on drinking all that yourself?”

It’s obvious they were for you and your bitch of a friend [who he remembers clearly ditching you for guys who insulted you], and some guy. Something inside him is asking who the guy was and if it was someone he should worry about being in his way but he’s decided to ignore it. Until you make it known that you don’t like his interest in you, he’s not planning on stopping.

You looked down at the drinks he was referring to and without thinking, you thrusted one toward him, “No, why don’t you take one?” As you juggled the three drinks in your hands, he was so close to grabbing one when a group of drunken people pushed past you to the bar, pressing you toward him.

His focus was on keeping you upright and in his arms rather than the three red cups that were crushed between you, or the cold liquid that spilled down the front of your dress. A soft gasp left your lips, stumbling into him as he held you up but locked eyes with one of the people who bumped into you. The guy didn’t even bother apologizing and that annoyed Jungkook even more. He looked up at Jungkook, feeling his glare on him that you didn’t even seem to notice as you worried more about the front of your dress being drenched in alcohol.

“Hey” Jungkook said over the loud music and the guy scoffed, rolling his eyes and attempting to follow his group. He moved to stand in front of him, same height but bigger build and said, “Don’t you think you should apologize?”

The guy tried to ignore him but Jungkook made it hard. He stood in front of him, little space between them and it was so obvious he was intimidating him. Jungkook watched the guy look back at you as you tried to dry off the front of your dress, he muttered a useless apology. You rolled your eyes, turning to Jungkook instead as you said, “I’m gonna go dry off.”

He let you walk off without much of a worry as he looked around. Your friends were nowhere to be seen and you left to the bathroom so he had a moment to think of what to do. He wanted to be somewhere you could easily find him, or that he could easily find you. At his feet, a bright screen lit up on the floor capturing his attention and without hesitating, he leant down to pick up the phone, recognizing the familiar wallpaper he had seen nights ago when you sat at the bar with him. Two notifications were stacked at the top and he couldn’t help but read them.

jimin: we’re upstairs

jimin: come

The phone has a passcode but he could still read the messages and without thinking, he cleared the notification away and followed after you.

He was not going to miss his chance again.

It took you minutes to dry off alone in the washroom, annoyed by the entire thing. Aside from getting soaked with the stench of alcohol, you were once again reminded that you’ve got no idea where your friends are. You liked seeing Jungkook but you’re still feeling alone somewhere you’re not used to. You need to call either Jimin or Sieun and bitch them out for leaving. Once you finished dabbing dry as much of it as possible, you felt around for your phone.

Your eyes widened suddenly, realizing it wasn’t with you and you felt the unbelievable weight of fear making its way into your fear wondering where it went. You rushed out of the packed washroom to start your search and came to a full stop as you stepped into the dark hallway.

A smile spread across Jungkook’s face, holding your phone up and waiting down the hall for you to find him. Your hands circled his as you took it from his hand, “Oh my god, thank you.”

You quickly checked your notifications screen for any sign that your friends were still alive and rolled your eyes when you found it blank. If they weren’t going to reach out to you then whatever, you were just going to do what you want. You tilted your head to the side in thought, looking up at him and asking, “Dance with me.”

“Okay,” he smiled warmly, holding your hand and letting you lead him to the music, already swaying your hips to the sound of the music. He let his free hand find the curve of your waist and pulled you toward him happily.

“You’re so pretty,” he said against your neck, soft touch tracing along your hips as they molded against his to the rhythm of the song playing. When your hands touched his all he could think about is how soft they felt. His fingers were rough and bruised from all the fighting he’s done while yours felt more delicate.

“Do I still make you nervous?” You asked playfully, turning to face him, your chest against his as he kept his arms secure on your sides.

“Extremely,” he looked into your eyes, “Especially right now that I’ve got you here with me again.”

Now, before anyone pegs you as the type, you’ve never been one to do things on such a whim. Usually, it took more to get you to show interest in a guy enough to want to sleep with him and that’s why this was so confusing. All you wanted to do was act out and get your hands on Jungkook.

Your decision was sudden and the only reason why you had the courage to tilt his chin down and press your lips against his. Jungkook was quick to respond, eager and hungry to taste you on his tongue. His arms circled around your waist, pulling you so close that it felt suffocating.

“Mm,” you hummed, pushing against him to catch your breath, “Was that too much?”

You both had shaky breaths that left you panting for air. Jungkook didn’t bother to respond as he leaned in for another kiss. This time around, Jungkook kissed you with more purpose.

The first one was on impulse, you kissed but did you really feel anything? He was too rushed and nervous to kiss you right that it felt shallow. Of course it still left him breathless with excitement but he wanted to feel it. When he kissed you the second time, you couldn’t help but gasp in surprise. Jungkook was a good kisser, his lips were surprisingly soft and once you got used to the feel of his lip rings, you kinda liked them. You didn’t even think about everyone around you.

Your friends were so far out of your mind and all you could think about is Jungkook. He was intoxicating in a way. You know nothing about him but you want him and you can’t seem to get enough.

“It’s crowded in here,” You gasped for breath as he kissed down your jaw toward your neck. He was unbothered by the people who watched him, more interested in the way your body seemed to whither against his with each kiss he trailed lower. Your words nearly went past him but they registered enough for him to stop and catch his breath. He looked at you with a dark gaze that reeked of desire.

“Do you want to get out of here then?” He asked, sliding his hand down to yours and pulling you through the thick crow. He made his way through the dark warehouse with ease, not once thinking of the friends he was supposed to be celebrating with tonight. He found a better way to celebrate his win and it was with you and him standing outside with his lips on yours.

He wished he could say he remembers how everything happened but he can’t. He doesn’t want to remember the agony of driving to your place without the need to feel you again. He couldn’t keep his hand off you, driving with one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your thigh. It wasn’t enough and he had to bite on his bottom lip to keep from jumping over to kiss you at every stop light. You were too distracted telling him directions to notice the way he itched for more but you couldn’t get the thought out of your head either.

There was just something about Jungkook that you wanted at this moment and you don’t even know why. He was attractive, so attractive that it was hard to believe him when he says you make him nervous. A guy like Jungkook is nervous because of you? You wanted, no, needed to know why.

“Do you want a drink?” You asked him shyly once you were in the comfort of your apartment. It was big for one person and littered with things he wanted to learn more about.

“Sure,” Jungkook said with his back to you as he took it all in. There was a backpack on a chair in the corner of the living room and beside it were a stack of textbooks telling him you were most likely in school. He assumed you’d be somewhere in your twenties, possibly younger than him or even around his age.

There was a wall of framed photos of you with friends, some where you looked obviously younger than now and others that seemed more recent. He found the two people you were with tonight in a couple of them and his eyes lingered a little longer on the guy.

He wasn’t in a lot of pictures but he was in enough for Jungkook to notice. In one of them, it was you, Jimin, and some other guy to your side. It looked like a group dinner and if he goes based off the numerous college apparel he found sported by the group, he assumed it was some sort of class gathering. You looked cute with glasses and it took him by surprise to see how different you looked tonight. You looked good either way but he didn’t know the side to you that these pictures showed and he wanted to.

Like this pretty one where you laid in bed with a cat on your stomach, resting casually and effortlessly stunning. Is that what you looked like in the morning?

“Here,” you came up behind him and handed him a glass of wine. Jungkook took it with thanks and turned to face you, “Wow.”

“What?” You asked with a slight scoff. Jungkook shrugged as he tipped back his glass for a drink, “Is it my pictures? Ignore them, I look horrendous in some of them but I need them for the memories.”

“Wow, as in I’m with a pretty girl who’s been on my mind since the first time we met and I can’t believe it,” Jungkook said, taking a step closer to you.

You couldn’t help but smirk when you watched him set the glass down on the coffee table and walk toward you, “You’re a little too good with your words, yknow.”

“Really?” Jungkook asked, circling your waist with his hands, dipping his head to meet yours, “You think it’s because I’m telling the truth?”

“Is that it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck and let him pull you into him, “I take it you’re not nervous anymore.”

“Terrifyingly nervous, actually,” he whispered, lips brushing against yours teasingly, “Because I still want to kiss you.”

You kissed him suddenly but he was ready for it and crushed you against him. His fingers were shaking to unzip the back of your dress and he had to remind himself to be patient. He doesn’t know what’s going on with him, just that he wants you.

He pressed himself closer to you, tongue slipping past his lips and to yours. Somewhere between the way your tongues danced for control, he had gotten the top of your zipper unhooked and was letting it fall apart along your back. It happened so quickly you gasped and circled your arms around his neck hoping to keep the dress from falling and exposing the expanse of your naked body too soon. He distracted you with his mouth along your jaw while his hands roamed your smooth back, feeling you without a barrier and letting his fingertips buzz with want.

He circled his hands down to your hips, tightening his grip and you got the hint quickly, throwing your legs around his waist as he carried you, not once breaking the kiss. You panted, out of breath, and a little shocked by the pace of it all. You weren’t complaining but you also weren’t expecting him to unzip your dress and hoist you up so easily.

He followed where you pointed and kicked your bedroom door open without a care to how hard it slammed against the wall or how hard he shut it back before he was throwing you onto your bed.

“I usually have more patience,” Jungkook spoke in a low, raspy tone as he reached for the back of his shirt and pulled it off, “But you have to understand, I haven’t been able to get you off my mind.”

You would’ve responded back about how he has been on your mind too if you hadn’t been so distracted by the veins running down his V-line. His abdomen was nothing but solid muscle and his tattoos went farther that you had first originally thought. He had a pretty body, and you were staring at it too hard to articulate a response. He unbutton his jeans, kicking them off and looked at you with a darkened gaze.

As if moving mechanically, you pulled at the straps of your dress, letting it fall off your shoulders and pulled it the rest of the way thanks to his earlier help. It slipped to your feet and he knelt on the bed to help you remove it completely, hovering over your now naked body and staring down at it.

“Now I’m the one feeling nervous,” you admitted in a teasing tone as you pressed your thighs together knowing the only things separated his manhood from your heat was your thin lace underwear and his Calvin Klein’s. Jungkook heard what you said but he couldn’t understand it. How could you feel nervous? why do you close your thighs and try to hide your bare chest from his eyes?

Do you not realize how perfect you are to him? From the length of your legs to the figure he liked to trace with his hands. He found you beautiful from head to toe and with you laying bare beneath him, he could really appreciate it.

Jungkook couldn’t think of the right words for you to know how lovely you looked to him, so instead he kissed your neck, practically pushing your head into the pillows. His hands traced along your sides, caressing teasingly whenever he got too close to your breasts and made a move to touch them but trailing down the last second. It made you arch your back off the bed wanting to feel more and he took it as his sign to keep going.

“Pretty, Angel,” he whispered softly, kissing your neck down to your collarbone, moving down toward your chest. He pressed teasing kisses to the soft mounds, his hands circling the underside and squeezing lightly as he kissed over one of your buds, “So fucking pretty.”

You gasped in surprise when his teeth ghosted over your hardened nipples and soothed the rough feeling with his tongue while his other hand pinched your bud between his index finger and thumb.

His hair tickled your chin and collarbone and you couldn’t help but run your fingers through it, feeling him smirk against your skin and scoot down more. He kissed down your stomach, annoyingly skipped over where you craved him most, and kissed your thighs. When you felt the urge to hurry him along, he knew exactly when to slip his fingers under your lace underwear and pulled them down.

“Fuck,” you gasped ever so lightly when he spread your thighs apart giving you absolutely no way to conceal your obvious arousal. Jungkook loved it, he loved the sight of your exposed pussy to his hungry eyes. He liked that he could see your clit and the slick that huddled at your center, wondering how it would taste when he ran his tongue along it. And he’s never been one for much self control when he really wanted something, so he went for it.

Your legs threatened to shut the moment his tongue made contact with your clit in a long, teasing lick but he held the open. Your immediate reaction to his touch made his dick harden in his briefs and he pressed it into the mattress for some pressure as he wrapped his lips around your clit in a kiss while his tongue swiped over it. It was obvious to you now that Jungkook was highly experienced in pleasuring someone and it showed in how he licked down your folds, collecting arousal on his tongue and coating your clit with it.

Your head sunk into the pillows as you stared up at the ceiling trying to contain the small whimpers that nearly slipped past your lips but it was hard. He was so attentive with his mouth, making sure to tease all of your cunt but making sure to go back to your clit because that’s where you would respond the most. When he looked up at you and found you looking elsewhere with your bottom lip between your teeth, he hadn’t liked it. He released one of your thighs letting it fall over his shoulder while his hand snaked its way along your body, running over your tits and dragged along your neck.

He felt the way your breath caught in your throat when he pulled at your bottom lip, tracing the curve of it with his fingers before pushing them into your open mouth. You curled your tongue around his middle and index fingers, coating them in saliva and gagging lightly when he pressed them a little too deep. All the while, his mouth worked tricks on your pussy.

When Jungkook felt that his fingers were wet enough, he pulled them out of your mouth and felt you pant at the release. He brought his hand down by his face, pulling at your labia and teasing the folds with his fingertips. It was all you got for warning when his lips sucked at your clit and he pressed his middle finger into your wet cunt. Even with just one, you felt tight and he didn’t have to patience to wait before the second one joined.

“Oh,” you moaned helplessly, hand blindly searching the sheets for something to hold before trailing over your thighs until you found purchase in Jungkook’s hair. It was all the guidance he needed to thrust his fingers in and out in rhythm with the way his tongue circled patterns into your clit. You shook your head with pleasure, “I can’t.”

Jungkook didn’t pull back when you squeezed your thighs around his head. Your grip in his hair didn’t ease and he knew you wouldn’t want him to stop now matter what you said so he didn’t. He hooked his fingers into the soft tissue inside your walls, knowing it was your pleasure spot by the way your moans grew.

It was now while he ate out your pussy and fingered you to bliss, that you called bluff on his so-called nervousness around you. No man he claimed to be nervous around you had ever pleasured you the way he has, not this conf

“Jungkook,” you whined, tugging at his hair and dragging a groan from his lips at the sudden pull, “Can’t wait anymore.”

He heard you clearly but he kept going, he kissed your clit harder and fingered you deeper until your walls tightened around them so much that he couldn’t pull them out. He could practically feel the knot forming in your stomach and when he felt as though it could fall apart, he stopped.

An impatient whine slipped past your lips as your legs shook with anticipation for what had been coming and you glared up at him. He was pulling his briefs off, reaching for a condom packet that had been tucked away in his car that he grabbed while you weren’t looking.

“What, baby? Thought you said you couldn’t wait anymore,” He teased as he tore into the packaging with his teeth and brought a hand down to his hard member. You wished you were being dramatic when you thought it was the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen, but it was. It was long, not too thin with just the right amount of girth and he was around average in length. Just the right amount to reach that spot that made your toes curl. He was also clean shaven, the veins down his V-line led straight to his cock and their prominence was mouth watering when he stroked himself for friction.

And Jungkook was well aware of the way your eyes traced down his naked body and it only made him smirk. He worked out so often he probably lived at the gym, he ate an appropriate diet, he was fit and healthy. He worked hard to look the way he did and it was obvious you liked it all. He slipped the condom on slowly, letting you imagine how your own hands would feel curled around him and moaned.

“You can touch if you want,” once again he was teasing you, smirking as he said it and crawled onto the bed.

“You’re kind of cocky for someone who claims to be nervous around me,” you groaned against his lips as you sat up to kiss him, following his lead as he laid down on his back and pulled you onto his lap.

He grinned, guiding your hips to align with his and he could practically feel your pussy take him in. His cock stood straight at attention, directly pointed to your entrance and you teased his tip by softly grinding in it. He took a deep breath, feeling it catch at your hole and without warning, pressed your thighs down and made you take him in.

“Fuck,” you both moaned softly as you sank down his length. You pressed your hands to his chest for support as you adjusted to the intrusion and lifted your hips slowly, feeling the stretch and forcing it away. Jungkook kept his hands on your hips, not moving you but keeping you in place when you began to fuck yourself with his cock. You were hesitant at first, shy as you dragged your hips up but after a while, you began bouncing. Your pace had picked up and you weren’t as careful taking him in when you came down on his cock.

“That’s it,” he moaned, fingers digging into your hips, “Keep going.”

You tossed your head back in pleasure, doing as told and letting him walk you through it as you went faster. You never expected him to be someone who liked when the other was on top but damn did he look good beneath you.

Jungkook’s hair was coated in sweat and he had the arm with the tattoos holding your waist. His lip piercing was pulled between his teeth to hold back his moans and his cock felt so big inside you. The muscles in his abdomen flexed everytime your walls squeezed around him and after a while you didn’t notice that he began to take over.

His hands were now moving your hips for you setting it at a quicker and rough pace for his liking. His hips met yours every time you went down and his dick reached a deeper part inside you when he did so. It prodded at your pleasure spot like it knew exactly where it was each time and when it felt like your arms couldn’t support your weight anymore, he pulled you down.

“So good,” you slurred on your words as you fell against his chest, feeling him fuck you roughly from below and move your hips for you while you hugged him.

“Mhm, baby, you feel so good,” he grunted.m, bouncing you on his cock feeling his orgasm build up intensely, “So fucking tight.”

“Jungkook,” you moaned, “Kiss me.”

He did.

He rolled you onto your back, tired of being stuck below you and nearly folded you in half when he raised your legs up. He kissed you harshly, thrusting back into you with more vigor when you moaned for him.

He can’t remember the last time sex ever felt this good—if it ever felt this way, and he couldn’t control himself. He knew he was close already, his cock was now fucking your pussy with more rhythm and determination to make you cum.

Jungkook’s back flex with each buck of his hips and he trapped you below him leaving you with nothing but pleasure and making you take every second of it. Your jaw fell slack, fucked into nothing but a moaning mess and you clawed at his back, “I’m close.”

Those were the right words to egg him on. He was close to cumming too, and he fucked you like he’ll never get a chance again. He fucked you good and hard like you never had before and your pussy walls tightened around him with anticipation. The feeling had built up from earlier and now there was no holding back anymore. You physically couldn’t stop the crash of your orgasm that wrecked your entire body. Goosebumps rose on your skin, your throat went dry and your thighs shook dramatically around him.

The intensity of your arousal knocked his into action when he felt your slick coat his covered cock in your cum and he fell apart. His body crushed yours under its weight as he pushed into the hilt and held it there, cumming into the comment with a long, drawn out groan in your ear, “Fuck.”

It felt like forever before the feeling of being high left your body and when he rolled off of you to lay beside you instead, you took your first real and steady breath of the night. He laid on his back, pulling you into him and tried to catch his breath, “You felt so good.”

“You’re so hot,” you admitted to his face, looking up at him and how he began to absentmindedly play with his brow piercing as he looked down at you.

The one round had tired him out if he were being honest, maybe it was how you tightened around him heavenly so it simply because it was you he was sleeping with of all people, but he was tired.

He hadn’t expected to feel your hand trace down his lean stomach toward his cock that was still semi-hard and covered in his own cum from when he pulled the condom off.

“We’re not done, are we?” You asked teasingly, pressing a light kiss against his abs, hand finding his dick and circling around it.

Jungkook couldn’t bite back the groan that escaped his lips when you began to jerk him back to hardness, “Not even close, baby.”

5AM

“You’re leaving?” You asked in a tired tone as you watched him sit up from the bed. It’s been hours since you slept with him and you both must have fallen asleep when you were snuggling and now you’ve woken up to him wrestling his jeans back on.

“That depends, do you want me to stay?” He asked and he wanted you to say yes. When you fell asleep in his arms he couldn’t help but to also and it was so peaceful. His usual soreness after a fight hadn’t kicked in yet and he was able to relax. The only reason he woke up at all was because of his annoying phone that lit up from inside the pocket of his jeans.

It was his friend asking for a place to crash. He was going to go home and let Hobi in but instead you woke up with a pout asking if he was leaving. You shrugged, “I mean… I get it if you want to leave, I was just asking.”

Your response kind of hurt him and made him wonder if that’s what you wanted. He looked back at you and the way you laid on your side to look at him. The street lamp hit your window directly and rows of orange light filtered through your blinds and on the edge of your bed. He didn’t actually want to leave but he didn’t want to overstay his welcome. Some people don’t like the morning after and he was going to save himself from getting hurt by someone who might not be too interested too soon.

“I don’t want to,” Jungkook admitted with acknowledgement to the way you looked at the thought of him leaving. It didn’t take more convincing for him to be pulling the covers over him once more so he could lay beside you.

As the days passed, Jungkook stayed on your mind. It didn’t help that your friends felt the need to know everything that happened over the weekend including how you didn’t see their texts. You swore up and down that you hadn’t received anything from them but the next day after Jungkook finally left your place, you called Jimin who scolded you over the phone.

Even now he’s intent on reminding you how you ditched them for some guy. Sieun was more lenient on the matter, “There’s nothing like hooking up with a hot stranger on a Saturday night. I didn’t think Y/n had it in her but from what I remember, her savior was hot.”

The three of you huddled inside a study room that you booked in the library a few days ago. There was supposed to be actual studying going on but instead the three of you were more interested in discussing the events from the weekend. Apparently, Sieun had spotted someone she knew and that’s why she ditched you two so fast. It took Jimin a while to find her but once he did, he appreciated the lack of people on the second floor and deemed it safer and probably more enjoyable than where he had left you. He sent you texts that you never read and with bad connection, his calls wouldn’t go through.

It wasn’t until the morning after that you told them what you had been up to and with who. Sieun remembered Jungkook from what happened with Jisoo and Rowoon and even she could admit he was attractive—making sure to tell you she would have happily jumped his bones too. Usually you’re not as vocal about who you choose to spend a night with but considering the three of you separated on Saturday, it felt like you owed them that much.

“Do you think you’ll see him again?” Jimin asked as he mindlessly jotted down notes from a seminar he missed this morning.

“We're supposed to meet up later for dinner,”you admitted, scrolling aimlessly through your online textbook to find the short questionnaire.

“Ooh, you’re already going for round two? Look at you, you little slut. First you sleep with a stranger and now you plan on hitting him up for more. I didn’t think you had it in you,” Sieun joked obnoxiously.

“It’s not like that,” you tried to say, “It’s just a quick meal… nothing serious.”

Jimin pursed his lips, “Hm, just be careful alright. When’s the last time you dated someone?”

“Oh my god, it’s really not like that, nobody is talking about dating anyone. We’re just going to hang out, that’s it. We don’t even know each other that well,” you told him but he only shared a look with Sieun.

“Was he at least good in bed?” She asked and Jimin covered his ears instantly. Your studying had been long forgotten as you talk about quite literally anything else going on in your life and in a weird way, it felt good.

Usually, you’re locked up in a room studying for the next big exam but lately you’ve been trying to loosen up. You weren’t super big into going out but ever since you ran into Jungkook for the first time it made you wonder why you weren't out having fun like everyone else. You forced yourself out this past weekend and you had the luck to run into Jungkook again, so why shouldn’t you let yourself have fun with someone new? That’s what this was all about, why you’re going out with Jungkook.

Your day went by in a blur probably due to nerves as you anxiously waited for Jungkook. Your last lecture finished late and the sun had already begun to set when you left the auditorium with Jimin who waited outside for you.

“So he’s picking you up?” Jimin asked, taking your backpack off your shoulders so he could carry it. The walk was short to the gate entrance but he did it out of habit and you never argued against it. Jimin has been a good friend to you for some time now and he’s been this way with you. When he gets curious about who you’re potentially seeing, you never think too much about it and always answer honestly.

“Yeah, but I’ll text you later about the project,” You told him, staring out to the entrance trying to see if he was here yet. In an attempt to put yourself out there more, you met Jungkook and it’s been the most exciting thing to happen in a while.

It’s not that you weren’t hit on before or had past ‘relationships’ but none made you feel as giddy as Jungkook does. Usually you’re on your own studying or going to your part time job so making time for someone else wasn’t on your radar until Jungkook. How strange it is that you could quickly change and act interested in someone else. Jimin felt pushed aside as your friend but he didn’t want to think about it. He’s seen you ignore guys so often that it’s taken him by complete surprise to see you show interest in someone who wasn’t him and he’s still not sure how he should feel.

“He’s here,” you turned to Jimin, taking your backpack off his shoulders and wrapping your arms around his neck in an embrace. Jimin didn’t hesitate to hug you back, quickly looking up to find the guy you’ve been talking about. His hold on you didn’t ease as he locked eyes with the guy with shock.

Jungkook was nothing like the kind of guys Jimin pictured you with. He was rugged, rough around the edges and in all honesty, intimidating. How else was he supposed to take Jungkook’s appearance as? He stood against a black Yamaha with his arms crossed in front of his chest staring Jimin down.

He wore a black compression shirt with his tattooed arms on display, black jeans, and shoes. The only color on him was the flash of silver from the shining chain around his neck, his piercings, and the silver Rolex on his wrist. He matched the motorcycle behind him with its silver, chrome rims and a clean engine.

Jimin thought about himself and the other guys you hang around. He tends to wear softer colors and he’s heard too many times how approachable he looks. Jin, who you’ve been close to since you started Uni, was your senior and he always evoked a welcoming smile on his face. He was buff from working out but not scary. Not even the last guy he remembers you talking to wore this much black or drove a motorcycle. What was this about?

“Be safe,” Jimin mumbled as he finally let you go and broke his gaze away from the guy.

“I will,” You waved goodbye and looked at Jungkook, unable to stop the bite on your lip as you looked at him.

Jungkook waited until your friend walked away for his glare to soften, only able to think about the way he hugged you tightly and watched him as he did it. You didn’t fight off his touch either, you enabled it and he wished you wouldn’t. You shouldn’t need to be so affectionate with anyone else now he’s here, especially not another man. He tried to smile when you approached him but all he could think about was where the guy’s hands had been.

They touched your waist, sliding under your cropped knitted sweater just slightly and touching your bare skin. When he let go, his hand had gone down to your hip, one final attempt to keep his hand on you and that meant he knew how soft the denim of your jeans was.

Why did he get to touch you first?

A smile spread across his lips as he eased the lines of irritation off his face the closer you got. Pushing off his bike, he uncrossed his arms and opened them wide, waiting for you to come to him, “Come here, Angel.”

You nearly jumped in his arms, and it made it easy for Jungkook to lift you off the ground in a tight embrace, taking in the soft and familiar smell of your perfume. Jungkook didn’t shy away from showing affection as he left soft kisses against your neck while you tried to keep yourself from losing your footing and with a small laugh, you pushed him back, “Thanks for waiting.”

“Of course,” Jungkook said as he released you, only keeping your hand in his, leading you toward his bike, “I’ve missed you.”

“Liar,” you teased, eyeing the motorcycle before you, “This is yours?”

His muscles tensed when you said he was lying but he tried to let it go and answer your question, “Yeah, why? Are you scared?”

“No,” you shook your head looking over at him, “I’m excited.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips and he lifted up a black helmet with light pink detail around the framing, “Good, because you’ll be riding it more often. This is yours.”

“What?” You touched the helmet as he helped you put it on, “The helmet?”

He nodded with a bite of his lip, “Can’t have you riding around without proper safety. I picked it up this morning, it’s custom.”

You didn’t stop to think about what he said, too excited to get on your first motorcycle. Jungkook had your helmet ordered a few days ago with some added detail he thought you might like. In all honesty, when he left your place the next morning, he submitted the order and began to think of what else you might like. He’s surprised you weren’t nervous and he had thought the helmet would ease you into the idea of letting him drive you around but you didn’t even hesitate to get on. It was cute how excited you seemed and it did things to him.

“Hold me around here,” He said, adjusting your legs to straddle him as moving your arms around his waist, “How does it feel?”

As he waited for you to answer, he felt your hand press against his abdomen, sliding over the ridges of muscle he’s gained in training and toward his taut stomach, fingertips brushing against the belt around his waist. He looked down at your ringed hand catching a feel of him with a crooked smile that you couldn’t see under the helmet. Your head rested against the back as you brought your hands back to where he had them first and said, “Feels fine.”

Tease.

You’re a fucking tease.

Here you are, straddling his bike, feeling him up but hugging another guy. He wants to enjoy it but Jimin is on the back of his mind and it was annoying the shit out of him. He just wanted to be with the person he has feelings for without thinking of anyone else. He has to remind himself you’ve only just started seeing each other, there’s still some things to learn for the both of you.

For him, it was to slow down. He couldn’t jump into it and expect you to give him the same energy, this is why he was hesitant to approach you. He knew he wouldn’t be able to take things slow.

Your first ride on a motorbike had been exhilarating. When you first found Jungkook standing beside it, your heart raced with worry but then you remembered what you told yourself. You were going to try new things and you liked it. Jungkook knew what he was doing and he made you feel safe when he would run a soothing hand along your thigh at a stoplight.

He was a gentleman too. He took your helmet off you when you got to the restaurant and held the door open for you. He pulled your chair out, let you order first and kept his eyes on you and only you. You’ve never met a guy who acts the way he does and it’s a shame.

“Tell me about yourself,” you asked after it felt like ages of him listening to you rant about one of your professors. Jungkook had such a look of patience as he listened but you were tired of talking, and scared you were secretly boring him. You needed to know something about him.

Your food arrived at the table and Jungkook unwrapped your silverware for you, cleared the table and made sure you were taken care of first before saying anything. When he finally did decide to speak, it started with a clear throat, “What do you want to know?”

“Are you in school?” You asked, remembering the night in bed when you figured out your ages through late night cuddles and superficial conversation. You could barely remember what i you talked about because your mind was so clouded and there was still so much to know about him aside from his name and age.

“No, I never went to college,” Jungkook admitted, shifting his gaze toward the other end of the restaurant, “I own a gym.”

“Really?” You asked with surprise, trailing your eyes down to his shoulder muscles, “But you’re so young.”

Underneath the table, Jungkook’s leg had stretched out toward you, foot hitting yours teasingly as he went on, “Yeah, I worked a lot and saved up enough to put a deposit down on a studio. The equipment is old and it’s usually used for kickboxing so there needs to be open space without bulky new machines in the way. I make do with what I got. What are you studying again?”

“Uh uh,” you waved a finger at him, “I’ve been going on and on about myself already, I want to hear more about you.”

“But I could listen to you all day, Angel,” Jungkook said with a smooth tone. You smirked and rolled your eyes, “Nice try but keep going.”

He stayed silent for a moment as you waited for him to keep going, looking down at your plate. A small smile spread across his lips as he said, “There’s not much to know, I’m a boring guy. I've got two loving parents, an older brother I’m close to, and a son named Bam, he’s a Doberman. That’s it.”

”Do they live around here?” You asked, trying to get him to open up more. Jungkook just shook his head no and said, “They live in Busan. What about you? Are you close with your family?”

”Um, not really, they think I’m always too busy so they stopped checking on how I was doing,” You told him honestly, “But they pay for my schooling so I guess that’s a plus.”

The two of you stayed and talked long after the plates were cleared from your table and you couldn’t remember the last time you had a good conversation with someone. Jungkook was a lot softer than his appearance let off. He was sweet and caring and he seemed to listen to every word you said intently your first impression of him as someone tough and intimidating was slowly beginning to dissipate. Jungkook only allowed himself to come off this way but he was into you. He wanted you to know he can be a good guy and so far he thinks he’s done a good job. You’ve been all smiles this entire time and he’s loved every second of it.

If he could, he would stay here all night just listening to you go on and on about anything that interested you. You had his full attention, nearly making him miss the person behind you. He recognized him right away and his lips curled in a knowing smirk when the guy spotted him.

“Looks like they forgot to take out the trash,” the guy mumbled under his breath as he passed by the table you occupied with Jungkook. You couldn’t help but turn at those words, wondering who said that and locked eyes with a tall, good looking guy. Your brows furrowed with confusion, unable to tell if he was talking about you and Jungkook but as you looked up at Jungkook, he was watching the guy closely.

“Do you know him?” You asked under your breath as Jungkook motioned for the waiter to bring the check now. He shook his head, “No.”

”Good for nothing, I’m telling you, and he doesn’t fight fair,” the guy spoke from a table not too far from where you two were, ‘I bet the next time, I’ll take him and he won't be running his mouth like he did last time.”

Jungkook couldn’t help back the scoff that left his lips and he tried to hide his annoyance from showing on his face. All he wanted was to have a good night with you and now someone from his past has decided to unexpectedly rui it. It wasn’t even anyone who mattered, just some guy he fought against a couuple years ago. The guy is still bitter that his trash talking left him with a broken nose and dislocated shoulder. It’s obvious he hasn’t learned his lesson and now that he’s seeing Jungkook again, he’s reminded all over again of the physical pain he put them through and thins this time would be different.

If jungkook really wants to, he would show the guy that time hasn’t changed anything and that he could easily still wring his neck if he chose to. The guy should feel lucky that Jungkook is here with you and doesn’t feel the need to cause a scene.

“Ready to go, angel? It’s getting a little crowded here,” Jungkook’s tone was strained as he tried to sound unaffected by the guy’s remarks but in reality, he was pissed. It was one thing for the guy to run his mouth but to do it when Jungkook is clearly trying to enjoy himself with someone?

“Sure,” your energy was down as you looked back to the guy and the people he was with. They were staring over at you with dark gazes that send a shiver down your back.

“One chance and I’ll knock his fucking teeth in,” the guy said, “Then I’ll take his bitch while I’m at it.”

The last comment seemed to have Jungkook frozen in place. You watched him turn back to the guy with a tense jaw and dead eyes as if in warning and it left you feeling worried and confused. It’s obvious he does know this guy or else why would he be saying those things just to get a reaction out of him? What were you supposed to do in this situation?

“Kook?” The nickname slipped from your lips before you could stop yourself and for a second you thought it had gone unheard until he turned to you with a gentle smile. Jungkook completely switched out of his hardened expression as he walked to your side, sliding his arm around your waist and said, “Let’s go.”

”You okay?” You asked as the two of you made it out of the restaurant in one piece. Jungkook’s motorcycle sat perfectly in the parking lot, waiting for you two to get on it and Jungkook pressed you against it.

Your arms went around his neck without question as he leaned in to plant a soft kiss against your lips, “Of course.”

He pulled away shortly, meeting your gaze, “Let’s get you home.”

In the back of your mind you knew something was off about the entire thing that happened at the restaurant but you weren’t sure how to bring it up—if you even could. The guy was talking about him, and you, and what he said raised questions that you wanted answers to but Jungkook wasn't going to give them to you, especially not tonight. His entire demeanor changed even if he tried to pretend like it didn’t but you saw right through his tense face and deep, jagged breaths. It was messing with his head but you couldn’t ask him about other things so soon. For all you know, that guy did Jungkook dirty and he had no desire to open up old wounds.

Plus, you’ve only known him for a short time so why bring it up? Over time if it mattered, he’ll tell you, you think.

Jungkook dropped you off at your apartment with a kiss goodbye and a promise to call. You didn’t even have time to stall and see if he would come up to stay the night before he was speeding off with a roar of his engine. You went upstairs to unwind, wondering what had bothered Jungkook so much about the guy. He seemed to have good restraint or else he would have acted out at the restaurant but he also could’ve been acting calmer because you were there. What would have happened if the guy caught him alone?

It took him hours to get over it, and even then, he wasn’t actually. If anything he was just pleased to know he could do something about it without putting you in the middle and that’s why when he pulled up to the address he scribbled, he couldn’t help but grin with excitement.

“You found it?” Yoongi asked through his car’s Bluetooth. He switched out his bike earlier to look less suspicious and began his search for that lowlife.

“Yeah, he just got home,” Jungkook muttered quietly as he watched the shittalker, Minho, get out of his red Nissan. He left his garage open and gave Jungkook a good view of the garage door opening and closing behind him as he entered the house alone.

“You should’ve heard what he said about Y/n, hyung,” Jungkook said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. He called you a bitch just to see if it’ll rule him up and if there’s one thing he hates, is disrespect someone he’s with. He was supposed to ask you to be his girlfriend tonight, officially, yet here he was pulling his black hood over his beanie clad head and sliding on a black face mask.

Yoongi released a sigh, once again being reminded of you. Jungkook had been going on and on about you like a lovesick puppy for some time now and Yoongi was just waiting to see when he would act up. In truth, Jungkook’s never been in a real relationship, only short flings but he never fully gave anytime the time of day. He was always distracted and uncaring so when he started talking about you and how he wanted to be with you, it was hard for Yoongi or the others to believe it.

Now here’s Jungkook more bothered by the fact Minho referred to you as a bitch than all the trash talking he had been doing. He was about to do something reckless and Yoongi couldn’t help but support it, knowing how much his friend needed to get out of his system before something worse could happen?

What could be worse than Jungkook tracing the guy’s footsteps into his house with a brick in hand?

Who knows.

“One more minute,” his voice was low and gentle, as he whispered against your neck. His cold hand traced along your exposed waist and pulled you closer to his embrace.

“Jungkook,” you said with a sigh, reluctant to leave your side of his bed, “I’ve got a presentation at nine that I have to prepare for.”

After dinner with him, you had been home trying to unwind and call up your friend to work on the project together. You stayed up past midnight trying to finish it and when you received a call from Jungkook asking to be let up, you had debated saying no. Whatever happened at the restaurant had raised some questions but in the end, his smooth talking got him in your bed for the rest of the night.

Your words held little sway against the relaxation of your body against his and feeling the light warmth of his kisses lingering on your skin. His lips trailed down your collarbone, bunching the small top you wore to bed and to your exposed navel. The touches there wouldn’t last long before he was back to your shoulder, soft kisses decorating your skin. It felt so intimate even if it was so harmless. You turned your head to face him better and he took it as a chance to kiss the corner of your mouth gently, “We’ve got plenty of time.”

He wasn’t even asking for sex, he just didn’t want to leave your bed yet knowing he wouldn’t be able to see you all day. He locked his fingers around yours as you shook your head no, “I’m meeting my partner early so we could run through lines one more time.”

“Do I know them?” Jungkook asked, eyes looking down at yours as you laid beside him. Despite still sounding calm and relaxed, there was something off about his tone. You thought about his question for a second, debating if you should tell him or not.

“Yeah, Jimin, he was with me when you picked me up earlier,” you said as he finally loosened his hold on you enough for you to get up. He watched you leave the bed in nothing but your top and a lacy pair of underwear, making your way to your closet as he made himself comfortable on your bed.

He watched in awe as you came back out and dropped the clothes down on the foot of the bed while beginning to undress what little you wore. You carried on your usual morning routine and turned the TV on to the first thing that played for some background noise.

“Last night around 11:00pm, a neighbor heard strange noises coming from a residential area in __ district.”

“Y/n,” Jungkook called your name as he stared at the remote you tossed onto your vanity. You were slipping on a skirt you deemed appropriate for your presentation and looked at him, attempting to zip up the back on your own.

“Help me?” You asked before he could say anything else and he sat up to just that, listening to the news playing quietly.

“It wasn’t until this morning that the brave neighbor knocked on the door of Kim Minho’s place early at 6:00am, checking to see what the noise was.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” He cleared his throat awkwardly, “Would you um, w-well, I want you to— go out with me? Like, maybe start dating, officially.”

“Officially?” You turned to him with a playful grin, shoving him back on the bed softly, “As in?”

“The 24 year old was found unconscious lying in a pile of what appears to be his own blood with blunt force wounds on multiple parts of his body.”

You made an attempt to turn to the television, finally feeling it pique your interest but Jungkook pulled you onto him with one swift tug of your skirt and said, “Girlfriend, I want you to be mine.”

“Kim has been transported to the local hospital where they attempt to bring him back to a stable condition. That is all the news we have as of now but we’ll get back to you as soon as more becomes available.”

“Okay,” you smiled, straddling his lap now in nothing but your skirt and bra, “But I should finish getting dressed.”

Your now boyfriend had an evident pout on his face as you quickly kissed him on the lips before pulling yourself off him. He watched you finish getting ready, making himself comfortable on your bed before saying, “Change the channel or something.”

The room he locked himself into was filled with gloom. There were no family pictures on the wall or any sign of a happy childhood like yours. Instead there were empty picture frames nearly identical to the ones that adorned your apartment that he soon planned to fill with pictures of the two of you together. So far he’s only got one picture and it’s of you laying in bed together.

Your head was resting on his bare chest as he kissed your hair and took the selfie. You looked so cute to him and every time he looked at it, it would make something bubble in his chest. There’s no way for him to truly explain the depths of his feelings for you and where they sprouted from and they only seemed to grow stronger the more he thought about you.

You’re just everything he’s ever imagined and he’s not being dramatic at all. Whenever he thought about the perfect person for him he always imagined someone like you. You were the craving for his sweet tooth. If he were coffee, you’d be the sweetener.

His world has been so black and blue and finally explosions of other colors were clouding his life. No longer was he just thinking in the negative, he was thinking about the positive and how that was you. He’s decided he’ll become a better man for you, someone who truly deserves you even if he already thinks nobody else does but him.

Life has been so unfair to him and you have been the only upside to it so how could he not want to keep you for himself? You understand him, or at least the version of him he’s told you and he’s sure that over time you’ll understand the real him.

Yes, he’s been hiding things but it’s been for the best. He can’t just introduce his full self to you and expect you to be alright with everything he’s done. He has to ease you into his faults and hope that you’ll love him for him.

The first night when you asked him how often he goes to that shitty bar, he was passive. He answered your question without telling the full truth and he thinks that lately that’s all he’s been doing. When you asked him about his family… he was truthful.

His parents were loving, and he does have an older brother. Were they loving to him necessarily? He would have to say no, but you didn’t ask him for clarification. You simply asked about his family and he answered. Of course he left out the part where he was kicked out when he was 15 for getting into too many school fights. In his defense, thinking about that still hurts him.

It was obvious he’s always been a troubled kid but for his parents to just turn him away the second it gets too hard? They were fine with all those times he would steal the car or smoke behind the school building. What difference did it make when he put his hands on someone? Maybe they were upset he wasn’t more like his brother, his perfect brother.

Student council president.

Top of his class.

Accepted into the best schools.

Caring.

Jungkook could be caring. He’s proven it with you. He stepped in when you needed help, he offered you company when you were ditched by your so-called friends, he listened to every word you said with such devotion.

In the back of his mind he imagined his family, and how they would feel to know he’s finally found someone who cares about him. And yes, he’s aware his hyungs care about him but even then it feels superficial at times. Hoseok was partially at fault he got ran out of home. He was the one always helping Jungkook train and start problems when he felt like it.

But Hoseok was also the one to take him in. He’s the one to put clothes on his back and all Jungkook had to do was release all the pent up anger from over the years and win a fight for him. That’s it.

And he can’t act like it’s a burden. It’s gotten him money, and his gym studio [which wasn’t a lie], it’s gotten him opportunities he couldn’t imagine before. Plus, he’s an angry guy and it helps get it out of his system. Now all he can be is loving and sweet to the person that matters to him, you.

You were just so perfect to him and he can’t explain why.

There was a chance he wouldn’t get to see you today and it was eating at him. When he got home from some of his boxing lessons, the first thing he had done was call you to see what you were up to. You couldn’t even answer the phone because you were studying and only promised to call him when you were done. It’s been an hour now and he’s finding it hard to believe you’re still at the campus library.

As if the thought of you had magically made you reach out to him, his phone rang and he answered so quickly, “Hey.”

“Hey,” your voice sounded airy like you were exhausted, “I just got done and I’m about to leave now.”

“Really?” Jungkook shot out of bed, looking over at his dog, who lifted their head up with piqued interest, “Should I come over? Have you had dinner? I could pick something up on the way.”

“My place is a mess right now,” you admitted as you walked to the exit, “How about I come to your place this time? I’ve never been there and I want to see how my boyfriend lives.”

Jungkook looked around at his bedroom, “You want to come to mine?”

“Sure, why not, I’ll get to meet Bam and maybe get more of that homecoming of yours,” you were smiling, your playful tone making his heart flutter, “I mean it’s only fair.”

“I—okay,” Jungkook stood up, searching around for where to start, “But it’s nothing special. Are you going to spend the night?”

“I can, I just need to stop home and pack some things,” You told him, taking a right to the closest train station.

With the promise of you finally seeing his place, Jungkook grew frantic. It’s not like he lived in a dump, he was decently well off but… he doesn’t pay attention to it at all. He’s overly clean but it’s so spotless it doesn’t even look lived in. Your place was filled with things that reminded him of you. Books, vinyls, posters, even your choice in culinary set seemed exactly like you.

His place looked like a blank slate. All he had was the punching bag in the corner of his living room, the matching motorcycle helmets, and the now framed picture of you on his bedside.

When you were dropped off in front of the duplex, you weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into. The place was big with a garage below the main floor you could only assume had his motorcycle and car parked. It was clean and well kept so when he answered the door, you hadn't expected anything less. Of course you didn’t expect it to be so bare either.

“Am I getting a tour?” You asked looking around the living room to a plain black couch, flat screen tv, dog bed, and punching bag. On the entrance table were your helmets but aside from that it felt pretty gloomy. Jungkook scratched the back of his head, “Sure, uh, well you’ve seen the living room…”

He led you down an empty hall toward the master bedroom and stood at the doorway as you looked around. His lip was pulled between his teeth and he was worrying away at it the longer you looked around.

“Wait,” You walked off, sitting on the edge of his bed as you looked down at the frame, “This is cute. You need to get a look at me before falling asleep?”

“Obviously,” Jungkook tried to say with a relaxed chuckle as he joined you on the bed, “When I can’t get the real thing.”

“Well it’s nice to see I’ve made it as one of the very few essentials in your home design,” You joked, pulling him closer to the collar of his shirt, “It’s cute.”

“You're one of the few people who have ever said that to me,” Jungkook said with a chuckle, leaning into your touch and brushing his lips against yours.

“Good, let’s keep it that way,” you pressed your lips to his, kissing him softly, “It sounds so cringy to say, but I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he said. He took you to your classes before leaving to the gym earlier but it felt so long ago. He really did miss you and to hear you say the same things to him, it did things.

“So, I actually wanted to talk to you,” you mumbled between kisses, sitting up in his bed, “I’m going out with Sieun this weekend, but I just wanted to let you know.”

You waited to see how he’d respond, if he would act upset or annoyed. Most guys tend to get jealous and possessive but you were hoping he was different. You weren’t doing anything behind his back so it’s better to know where you stand now. If he asks to go out with his friends, you wouldn’t get upset, you’re only hoping he’ll feel the same.

“Sieun?” He questioned, looking away from you for a moment. The same bitch who chooses a guy over you? The one who seems boy crazy? “It’ll be fun, and just call me if you need anything.”

His response caught you by surprise but you tried not to dwell on it, a smile spreading on your lips as you hugged him, “Thank god, I thought you were going to be one of those guys that throws a fit whenever their girlfriend goes out without them. Can we take Bam for a walk now?”

Jungkook didn’t say anything, simply smiled a tight smile and hugged you back.

He had been dreading the weekend. His friends were all on his line asking him to go out and get drunk with them but he was too nervous. He was too scared thinking about you and what you were doing to try and relax. Yoongi had to try and physically drag Jungkook out of his apartment and even that hadn’t been enough for him to ease up.

He loved going out with the guys, it usually entailed drinking, money, and some random girl to occupy his interest. Now all he could think about is where you were and what you were doing.

“Kook, come on you’re better than this,” Namjoon said as he tried to hand Jungkook back his darts, “What’s on your mind?”

“Y/n is out drinking with a friend of hers,” Jungkook said, checking his phone for any notification, “And she hasn’t called or texted me since she left.”

“Isn’t that good?” Hoseok asked with a chuckle, “She’s off doing her own thing and you’re doing your own. I’d kill to be with someone who wasn’t blowing up my phone anytime I’m out.”

“Seriously, I get about five texts from Jia everytime I’m out with you guys,” Yoongi said as he took a drink of his beer, “But I gotta say, I’m surprised you let her off her leash. I feel like lately, you’re latched to her side.”

Jungkook looked up from his phone with hardened eyes as he looked at his friend. He’s not sure what Yoongi meant by that but he didn’t like what he was possibly referring to you as.

“Whoa, careful there. Jungkook’s got actual feelings for Y/n, you can’t go calling her a bitch or anything,” Hoseok said jokingly. The two never held much respect for anyone but themselves but it never bothered Jungkook this much.

“Now I didn’t say that,” Yoongi responded with a laugh.

Namjoon watched as Jungkook’s jaw tensed and he was quick to try and intervene, “So how long has she been out? I feel like we just barely got you out of your house.”

“A couple hours now,” Jungkook said, choosing to ignore his other two friends, “She left long before I did.”

“Who knows, maybe she’ll be calling you up soon,” Namjoon said as he tapped his beer bottle against Jungkook’s, “Until then just try and let loose.”

Just as the sigh in agreement left Jungkook’s lips, his phone began to ring.

When you called him, telling him how much you wanted to see him, you hadn’t expected him to answer so quickly. All it took was for you to tell him the address of the club you were at before he was showing up in search for you. It was cute how quick he was to see you.

“You okay?” Was the first thing Jungkook asked when he found you among the mix of people. His arms circled your waist and you threw yours around his neck in greeting, taking in the musky smell of his cologne and nearly growing weak in the knees. He held you up with a strong arm as he looked around to who you were with.

“Yeah, I’m great, do you want a drink?” You asked, already trying to lead him to the bar but he shook his head no.

“I’m not drinking,” he said. He had barely drank half of one beer when you called and now that he’s seeing you, he’s decided it’s better he stays sober. You were very obviously intoxicated but not to the point where you were making a mess of yourself. He could just tell from the way your eyes glossed over and your slurred words. You called him to take care of you.

“Y/n,” Sieun called to you as she held up another shot, “One more.”

He watched you take it from her hands and down it back, scrunching your face in disgust as the warmth traveled down your throat. You chased it down with soda to wash away the taste and he held you upright. He didn’t want to sound pushy but he had to ask, “How much have you had already?”

“Not too much,” you said, leaning against him, “Five, maybe six drinks, Sieun?”

“And two shots,” Sieun said with a laugh as she looked up to Jungkook with curiosity in her gaze, “But come on Y/n, isn’t it time to finally introduce me to your new guy?”

You smiled, pulling Jungkook closer, “Right. Jungkook this is my best friend, Sieun. You might remember her from that first place we met and… Sieun, this is my boyfriend. Isn’t he so cute?”

“The cutest,” Sieun said looking at him, “You said I could sleep over right?”

You nodded your head, sniffling slightly as you blinked away your blurred vision. Jungkook held you tighter as he turned to look at you, “Are you ready to go?”

“Maybe,” you admitted, feeling the sense of nausea begin to set in.

“We’ve been drinking for a while, she might have had one too many at this point,” Sieun said to him but he wasn’t listening to her. Instead he was reading your face to see how you felt, “You want to go home baby?”

You gave a weak nod and it was all it took for Jungkook to step up. He led you out with your friend close on his trail and helped you into the front seat. He buckled you in and kept your head from rolling to the side while your friend got in the backseat.

“Thanks for picking us up,” Sieun said as Jungkook drove off, “You seem like a good guy.”

Jungkook just nodded in acknowledgment, silently driving to your place and taking your hand in his. Now that you weren’t standing and actively moving, your energy seemed to have died down. You looked tired now and he wondered if you were starting to get a headache.

“Was it just you two all night or did someone else join you?” Jungkook decided to ask. You were half asleep and he wanted to ask you instead but he was too impatient to wait. Plus, he didn’t want you thinking he was worried.

“Just us two, you should’ve joined us,” Sieun said from the backseat, “It would’ve probably been more fun.”

No it wouldn’t have. All Jungkook would be able to think about is how annoying he thought she was and it would be evident on his face.

“Next time,” Jungkook lied as he pulled up to your building. He turned the car off and walked to your side, opening your door and helping you up. When you raised your arms to him, he couldn’t help but lift you all the way to your apartment. He took your keys and unlocked your door, leaving it open for your friend to follow as he led you to your room.

“Kooky,” you whined, falling onto the bed and lifting your leg. Jungkook didn’t hesitate to help you out of your heels and get you into something else to sleep in.

He kind of liked that he was getting the chance to take care of you.

“Can you get me some water?” You asked, making yourself comfortable in your bed.

“Of course, Angel, I’ll be right back,” Jungkook said, softly caressing the side of your face before making his way out of the room. In all honesty, he had nearly forgotten Sieun was over until he was in the kitchen. She seemed to know where the extra blankets and pillows were and made her bed on the couch. She was in a skimpy dress and too tall of heels which she was struggling to get out of and looking at Jungkook, “Once again, thanks for picking us up.”

“Well I wasn’t just going to let Y/n find another way home,” Jungkook mumbled to himself as he opened your cabinet for a glass. He had already assumed he’d be picking you up if Sieun ditched you.

“You know, you’re a lot cuter than I remember,” she said with a laugh as she kicked her heels off. She got up from her spot and made her way to the kitchen as Jungkook filled your glass, “It’s a shame, Y/n found you first.”

Jungkook couldn’t stop the curl of his lips in disgust as he processed what she was saying. He looked over at her, “Meaning?”

“I just mean… you’re not usually Y/n’s type,” Sieun tried to say, her drunken speech more prominent, “I saw you that first night too.”

He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, “Was that before or after you laughed when those guys called her a bitch?”

“They were joking, and I told them off after,” Sieun said, invading his space to grab a cup for herself, “But it was kind of hot how quick you were to jump in.”

Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at her in disbelief. He couldn’t believe she was trying to hit on him while you were in the other room. He was finding her more and more disgusting.

“You’re kind of a slut, aren’t you?” Jungkook asked with a slight chuckle, seeing her taken back expression.

“Excuse me?” She asked, her cocky smile gone as he insulted her suddenly.

“You. You’re a slut, right? I mean that’s what I’ve picked up,” Jungkook said with a shrug, “Why else would you be trying to hit on your friend’s boyfriend in her house?”

“I wasn’t h-hi—“

“You weren’t?” Jungkook asked, “So should I just get Y/n out here so she could listen to you too?”

Sieun had nothing to say at this point. She had in fact been hitting on him, or at least trying to see how far her teasing could go before he stopped it but she didn’t expect to be called out like this. Jungkook didn’t seem to care that she stopped and had begun to think about what was going on as he continued, “Now, if you ask me, I can’t tell you why she would want to be friends with a trashy whore like you but I guess that’s not for me to figure out. All I can really tell you is to stay out of my fucking way and don’t bother talking to me again.”

With that, he left her alone in the kitchen trying to process what had just happened.

“I think I drank too much,” you whined tiredly when your boyfriend made his way back into your bedroom. An amused smile pulled at his lips as he handed you the glass of water and sat on your side of the bed, “I’m never drinking again.”

“Okay,” he whispered, only half-believing you and smoothing his hand down your side when you groaned about a headache, “Did you at least have fun?”

Jungkook just seemed to be too good to be true. You had never met, much less been with, a guy who seemed to have everything together the way he did and it was still hard for you to understand it. Not to mention the fact that he treated you so well and always has since you first met, it’s just hard to believe. What was his deal?

Maybe you were being paranoid and thinking that something bad was bound to happen soon but that had to be the case. Never once has anything ever worked out for you as well as your relationship with Jungkook has and you can’t let it go. You’ve been with him for weeks and he hasn’t made a single slip up.

He always texts back fast, and calls you when he’s free. He’s always putting effort to see you and just takes care of you over all. He does a bunch of little things that make your heart flutter like bringing home whatever sweet you told him was your favorite, or cooking you something for dinner when you’re not in the mood to do it yourself. He lets you pick the movie or song and rarely makes you pay unless you beg him to and he’s always showing how much of his attention he has.

He's too perfect, sure there’s still some things you don’t know about him but he’ll tell you over time, hopefully.

“Are you coming to dinner tonight?” Jimin asked over lunch on Friday. The cafeteria was full with college students and the two of you occupied a small table close to a window.

“I have to work but if I can get off early then I might,” You admitted, mindlessly scrolling through your Instagram. You looked up at the third chair beside you and asked, “Where’s Sieun? I feel like she’s been M.I.A for the last couple of days.”

“I don’t know, she probably forgot she had a project due and is doing some last minute work on it,” Jimin said with a shrug, noting her absence, “Or she’s tired of seeing you all lovey dovey when she can’t keep a guy around.”

“Don’t start with your little remarks, Chimmy,” you waved a playful finger at him, “Sieun is happy doing what she wants.”

“Yeah but that’s because it’s her only choice. Do you think if someone showed actual interest, she wouldn’t want to settle down?” Jimin asked, making you look at him skeptically. You didn’t want to talk about Sieun behind her back but he made you think.

“I don’t know, it’s not in her character, I don’t even know what kind of guy she likes,” you admitted, slightly embarrassed to say. Assholes.

She usually likes the bad guys.

“Do you think she’ll go later?” You asked, attempting to change the subject.

“Probably, Jin’s gonna be there and some other guys she’ll want to flirt with so I don’t see why she’d miss it,” Jimin said, watching you begin to pack up your things as you finished eating. He followed suit and the two of you carried your trays to the drop-off station.

You rolled your eyes at what he said but didn’t deny any of it and looked at the time on your screen, “I’ve gotta get to my lecture but I’ll see you later?”

Jimin waved you off with a goodbye, letting you run off in one direction while he took the other and left the lunch room alone.

“Where’s Y/n?”

The scream he let out was high-pitched and squeamish, he had a hand supporting his beating heart as he looked at Sieun with widened eyes, “Don’t sneak up on people like that. She left to her next class, why? You avoiding her?”

He meant it as a joke, not caring much if the two of you talked either way. He can’t count the amount of times he has to pick sides between your arguments. He usually bounces between you until one of you says something he agrees with and waits for everything to be square for the three of you to talk again. Sieun bit her lip instead of responding and that was a clear give away that you were.

“Why?”

“I mean, I’m not avoiding Y/n, like I’m not mad at her or anything,” Sieun said as she walked with Jimin, “I just… I don’t know ever since she started dating Jungkook—“

“Oh, fuck no, I don’t want to hear it,” Jimin said with a laugh, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.”

“I’m not! I mean I was, but I’m not. I swear,” Sieun confessed, “He creeps me out.”

“What do you mean?” He asked with piqued interest. Sieun let out a sigh as she shook her head, “I don’t know he just seems… intense.”

And cruel.

And brutally honest.

And aggressive.

Jimin couldn’t help but let his eyebrows knit together with confusion as he looked at her, tempted to ask her to elaborate. Before he could even think to ask her to explain, she was quick to say, “I just want to know if he’s coming tonight.”

“I don’t think so,” Jimin said, stopping in his tracks, “What’s up with you? Did something happen?”

“No,” Sieun rushed, “But I’ve gotta get going. I’ll see you later?”

Jungkook had canceled his plans tonight for your sake. He had decided to tell Namjoon he wouldn’t be fighting so that the two of you can spend time together and he could possibly bring up the thought of his fights to you. He needed to think about what he could lie about still and what you should know. If you handled the idea of these ‘sanctioned events’ then maybe you’d be fine with him doing them. Maybe you’ll want to see one live and clean up his wounds after. He was trying to think of every possible outcome before bringing them up to you.

What he hadn’t expected was for you to tell him you have plans that didn’t involve him at all.

“So you’re going out?” Jungkook asked as you talked over FaceTime. You had him set up on the computer as you sat around your part time job doing nothing but talking to him.

“Not really, I’m just meeting up with some seniors for dinner. We’re all good friends, you can come if you want. I’m sure they wouldn’t mind,” You told him, flipping through some magazine you pretended to browse. You weren’t paying close attention to his facial expression and the way it hardened.

“Are there gonna be guys there?” He tried to sound casual like he didn’t care either way but his nails dug into his palm the longer it took you to answer. Usually, he doesn’t ask you these sort of things. He always quietly accepts whatever you tell him so you’re a bit surprised.

“A few, but Sieun is going, and there’s a few seniors who aren’t guys going too,” You told him honestly, waiting for him to say something but he just stayed silent. It made you pay closer attention to him and his tensed jaw.

“Didn’t you go out last weekend?” Jungkook asked with a clear of his throat, “I was kind of hoping we could do something together later.”

“I mean, you can come along,” You tried to reason with him but his tone was slightly different. He seemed annoyed that you had plans and now you’re trying to avoid making him upset.

“Maybe I don’t want to tag along with your friends, maybe I just want to spend the night with you and no one else,” Jungkook said, his tone sounding harsher than earlier, “I didn’t realize I’d have to schedule time to see my girlfriend.”

A light scoff left your lips as you took in what he said, “You don’t, and we saw each other last night and this morning so why are you making it such a big deal that I want to go out with my friends? I haven’t seen some of them in months.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything for a moment and the longer he stayed silent, the more anxious you got. You didn’t want him upset with you but at the same time it's not like you’re constantly leaving him for someone else. He’s with you nearly every night. You talk to him at nearly every point of the day so what's the big deal that you have plans tonight? Finally, you heard him release a sigh through the phone, and muttered out, “Whatever, have fun.”

The call ended abruptly and for the first time since you started seeing him, he seemed to be upset with you.

He threw his phone down on his bed trying his hardest to not seem as bothered as he clearly was. To him it was complete bullshit and he couldn’t understand you at all. Why did it feel like he was the only one putting effort to be in a relationship? Was it his lack of true experience because he seriously thought he was doing fine. He treated you well and never got mad at you but you’re making it hard for him to keep playing nice. He doesn't give a shit about your friends and who you haven’t seen in how long. You haven’t made a single effort to meet his friends or know what he likes to do so it all just seems really fucking unfair.

Here he is trying to be a better person for you and you don’t even seem to care. Instead you would rather go be with anyone but him and. He was not just going to let that happen.

With shaky fingers, he made a call to Namjoon, and retracted his previous statement because he changed his mind. He will go and fight tonight since clearly there’s no reason for him to try and be better for you when you couldn’t care less about him.

It’s not like you could forget the fact that he was most likely upset with you now but you also weren’t going to miss out with your friends. It made you feel selfish but at the same time… you were with him this morning. He slept in your bed and maybe you should have told him you had plans that had been set for some time now but you didn’t think it mattered. He had seemed alright with every other time you were out so why was he so bothered this time around? Plus, you didn’t lie to him. You really are just going to get dinner with some old classmates of yours so is there any real reason for him to be upset by it?

“So I’ve heard you’re seeing someone, have I ever met him?” Your friend, Jin, asked over dinner. You were quiet for the most part, still thinking about Jungkook that when you finally got to the restaurant where everyone else had been waiting for you, you hadn’t made any talk with anyone. You didn’t want to be one of those people that brings your relationship problems out for everyone else to have to go through and maybe you were already overthinking it, but you didn’t want to talk about Jungkook right now.

“No, he’s uh, we met at a bar,” You said simply, stuffing your face with whatever was in front of you. Jin let his brows furrow and asked, “Is he good to you?”

”Yeah,” You said honestly. Jungkook really was good to you and its making you realize that you were probably in the wrong tonight. You should have canceled on your friend because it was so obvious that he wanted to do something together but instead you chose to be stubborn and have it your way, “He’s amazing.”

Jin looked surprised, and turned to Jimin and Sieun, “And what do you guys think about him?”

He’s always been like this, probably because he met you when you were new to the area and showed you around. He’s always had a tendency to act like an older brother with you which you were thankful for until it came to whoever you chose to date. He rarely took your word for it like you’d lie to save face of whatever asshole you’re seeing.

Jimin looked at Sieun, remembering the way she acted with you earlier. She said she’s not avoiding you but she’s made it a point to talk to everyone but you tonight and now that Jin’s looking to her, she can't ignore it any longer. He, himself, does not have much of an opinion on your boyfriend. He knows that he looked pissed off when Jimin hugged you goodbye that one time, but he might’ve dragged it on to push his button too. He doesn't have anything to say about the guy but Sieun made him question if there was something going on there.

She’s been acting strange and he wonders if Jungkook has something to do with it, but his mind goes to the wrong thing. He has to tell himself that Sieun would never do anything that could put you in a bad spot like going after your boyfriend but he cant help and wonder if that’s why she’s been stand-offish with you all day. He doesn't know Jungkook but is he the kind of guy to fool around with his girlfriend’s best friend?

Jimin looked at Sieun expectantly, waiting for her to respond and she shifted her gaze away nervously, “H-He’s cool. He seems to care a lot about Y/n.”

”So are we going out after this or what?” Someone asked from across the table, “It’s a Friday night, we should be out getting shitfaced already.”

”Let us at least finish our food, Tae, not everyone wants to drink more on an empty stomach,” Jin said with a laugh as he pushed your full plate close to you, “Right, Y/n?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I might call it a night when we get done here,” You said, checking your phone to see if you had any missed call or text from your boyfriend.

“Y/n, you can’t,” Another senior classmate, Yuna, said as she called for you, “I haven’t seen you in so long and Jinnie has been hogging up all your attention. Just one drink, yeah?”

“Her boyfriend wont let her, I bet, does he always tell you what to do?” Cai asked with a laugh making you roll your eyes. Once dinner came to an end, you tried calling Jungkook but he didn’t answer, instead the call went straight to voicemail and you were dragged out to another bar.

Jungkook hadn’t been in the mood when he got onto the fighting mats. It was obvious on his face that he didn’t care much for how to fight fair, he cared more about getting his hands on someone and that made him scarier. It’s kind of alarming how one person can affect his mood for everyone else to deal with, especially when it meant fighting someone till he felt like stopping or was dragged off of them.

That’s evidently what had to have happened. His opponent was on the ground, coughing up blood and tapping on the mat wanting it to end but Jungkook just grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him up once more. The guy made a gurgling sound, surprise making him choke on his words and fell hard with a thud when Jungkook pushed him down once more. He kept him down with his hands in tight fists until the bell rang and Hoseok was hopping over to pull him up. Once again, Jungkook was a winner.

“Atta boy,” Hoseok said with a grin as he was made winner and followed after him and Namjoo to the locker room. Jungkook was tired and annoyed that he couldn’t even celebrate his win, even if Namjoon held the stack of money he won from not only the match but the betting too.

“Are you taking us out to celebrate, big winner,” Yoongi asked, the three oblivious to how silent Jungkook has been all night.

“No,” Jungkook said as he threw on a hoodie, feeling a tinge of paid on his shoulder from one of the times the guy was lucky enough to land a hit on him. He would surely raise but it wasn’t dislocated—he doesn't think.

“He’s probably tired of us and wants to go see his girl,” Namjoon said with a chuckle, handing Jungkook his portion of the money and letting him walk off on his own. Jungkook ignored the crowds of people congratulating him and got on his bike, slipped on his helmet and drove home.

He connected his dead phone to its charger before heading to shower and wash off the grime of fighting, the sweat and blood that came with it and try to rid himself of anger too. The whole time he was fighting, he couldn’t seem to let the thought of you go. It really did annoy the shit out of him how it felt like he wasn’t a priority in your life. How it seemed like he was the last one you think about while you’re at the front and center of his. It was unfair. You were probably off sitting at a table with your friends, not even caring about him at all.

When he got in bed he hoped you’d be calling him some time soon. He didn’t want to end the night without talking to you but he didn’t want to call you either. If he called you, then once again he would be the one putting effort into talking and you wouldn’t even care. So instead, he laid in bed with his feet hanging off the bed and his bruised arm thrown across his chest.

He thought about sleeping it off and just talking to you in the morning instead. That way he wasn’t annoyed by your absence anymore and he could talk to you when he was more level-headed but that thought head been instantly thrown out the window by what he found out.

At first, Jungkook didn’t want to believe the picture that was on his screen. If he believed it then he would have to come to accept that you lied to him and that was hard for him to swallow. Maybe he was overreacting, but then he thought about the way his chest tightened, his ribs squeezed around his heart, and his insides churned uncomfortably the longer he looked at it. The veins around his forearm protrude with the force he was applying on his phone, worried the screen would crack or he’d do something to make it stop working.

He needed it to work if he wanted his questions answered. Sliding his thumb across the screen, he went back to his messages, fingers trembling as he typed with urgency.

jungkook: y/n said she was just going to dinner.

hoseok: 😬looks like she lied to u

He had to read over the words twice, three times almost as he tried to think about what Hoseok was saying. You had no reason to lie to him and you both knew it. The two of you were supposed to be working on your relationship and it isn’t good for one of you to lie to the other. It was wrong, very wrong and he did not like being lied to.

Especially not when he couldn’t understand why you would want to lie to him. Even if he had been annoyed you were going out, you didn’t have to lie. You said you were going to dinner but you said nothing about going to the club, especially not with guys around you. Is that why you lied to him? Is that why you told him you would just be grabbing dinner? So that he wouldn’t have to think about the guys you would be drinking with and laughing with like you didn’t care about the boyfriend you ditched?

You were such a fucking liar. He sent one final text to Hoseok, asking where this was and it was the last thing he did before he got out of bed to find out for himself what you were up to.

“How come we’re always the last one’s to know you’re seeing someone?” Cai asked with a chuckle as he stood with you to the side while the others talked loudly about some old professor everyone shared, “Is it because I’m old? Be honest.”

“Oh my god, no, plus you’re still younger than Jin,” You laughed, “And because it kind of just happened. I don’t know, I haven’t been seeing Jungkook for long but he’s honestly great. When you meet him you’ll like him.”

”Well why didn’t you drag him out tonight?” Cai asked, slurring on his words a bit, “It would’ve been nice to meet my competition.”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully. It isn’t the first time Cai has made comments like that but you always brush them off. He was talking to talk, he never meant anything by it and everyone knew it, “I should probably get going soon though, I've been gone longer than I told him I’d be.”

“Who cares, you’re with your friends its not like you’re doing anything wrong,” Cai said pulling at your arm to keep you next to him, “We haven’t had a chance to catch up in forever, he’ll be fine.”

A sigh left your lips as you looked down at your phone to see if he’s messaged you yet but there was nothing. It made you wonder just how upset he was with you and in the end, all you wanted to do was leave and go find him, “I think I should go.”

”Y/n,” Cai drunkenly whined as you began walking away but something stopped you and it wasn’t the arm Cai was holding onto you with. Just a couple yards away, your boyfriend’s familiar cold stare was directed to the person at your side and you couldn’t think fast enough. How did he know where you were? Ours not sure, everything happened so fast and that had been the last thing on your mind.

”Jungkook,” you called out to him as he stormed past you and with a closed fist, hit Cai straight on the jaw. The punch had him stumbling back into the bar table behind him and falling to the floor with a hand on his bleeding face. You cringed with shock as Jungkook kicked his side making Cai curl his body into a ball to stop the hitting but Jungkook didn’t stop.

“Stop!” You cried out, wanting it to end but unsure how to make that happen when Jungkook got on top of him and delivered clear blows to your friend’s face with a relentless amount of strength that not even Jin could put a stop to. A crowd had begun to crowd and bouncer’s were trying to make their way through but some guys you faintly remember hanging around Jungkook got to him first. It took both Namjoon and Hoseok to pull Jungkook off and even then he was fighting against their hold.

You were shaking with worry as you watched Yuna crouch down next to Cai who was covered in blood, you looked at Jungkook who was just seeing red and without thinking, you followed him out, uttering out apologies to all your friends as you did so.

”What the hell is wrong with you?” You asked him as Hoseok dragged him all the way outside.

“Get in your car and go before the cops show up,” He told him, speaking over you like what you said didn’t matter but Jungkook wasn’t listening to him.

“I thought you were just going to dinner!” Jungkook said angrily, sweat coating his hair as he yelled angrily, “Instead I find out you’re getting close with some other guy as if you don’t have a fucking boyfriend!”

“What are you talking about?” You felt like crying as you watched his friends keep him from getting too close to you, “He’s my frien—“

”Right, everyone is just your fucking friend, Y/n. So explain this,” Jungkook showed you his phone screen and your heart nearly dropped. It was a picture of you from inside the club with Cai’s arms around your waist. It had been two seconds of hi trying to get you to dance with him before everyone told him to keep his hands to himself but of course th picture made it look a hundred times worse than it was. You would never cheat on Jungkook nor give anyone the wrong idea and before this mess had happened, you were planning on leaving them and going to him.

“I tried to call you,” you attempted to say but Jungkook wasn’t listening, “Jungkook, you just attacked my friend, do you get that?”

”Oh fuck off, Y/n, why is your friend all over you when you have a boyfriend? Do you think I’m fucking stupid? You lied to me, you ditched me for all of them—“

”That doesn't mean you put your hands on someone!” You yelled back in anger, “It feels like I don't even know you.”

You thought he was sweet. He was calm and caring and although you had wondered if he was scary, you never believed it. He was always so soft it’s you but right now… right now you watched him beat your friend to a pulp and h didn’t look sorry at all. If anything he looked ready for more.

Sirens were going off in the distance, surely coming in this direction and you took a step back from him,”We’re done.”

“What?” Jungkook asked, genuinely surprised, “Y/n—“

”Jungkook come on man, you can't get arrested again,” Namjoon said trying to pull his friend back and you didn’t miss what he implied. This wouldn’t be the first time he would get arrested and it just solidified how little you thought you knew about him.

“Get off me,” Jungkook pushed at his best friend as you began to walk away from him, “Y/n!”

You couldn’t bring yourself to turn around as you headed back inside, ignoring the way he yelled out for you and looked for your friends.

It took two days for him to do something. You left him alone outside some nightclub while he called out for you and you never turned back. You didn’t answer his calls or texts and he waited. He waited two entire days for you to cool off and talk to him. In reality, he felt as though he should’ve been the one ignoring you. This happened because you didn’t prioritize him.

Now, you’ve tried to toss him aside like he didn’t matter to begin with and that is what bothered him the most.

He doesn’t give a fuck about your friends or the guy he left to bleed out on the ground. He cared about you and how you comforted someone else while he was dragged home by his friends. And even with how angry he was at you for trying to end it with him he still gave you time to get over it. He let you ignore him. He gave you the choice and now you’re taking advantage of it. Why are you doing this to him?

“I don’t know man, it was bad, you kind of went crazy,” Yoongi tried to tell him as he watched Jungkook bench press over his weight. The two were at the gym with Yoongi trying to get Jungkook out of this mood he’s been stuck in since Friday. He had this anger in him that wouldn’t disappear and the other night he was so mad, not only at the fighting match but at the club too and he should’ve stopped him. It’s not like none of them saw the signs, it had been so obvious before the fight that Jungkook was upset. Hoseok should’ve never shown him that picture.

“I was fine,” Jungkook muttered under his breath between counting his set, “Do I not have a right to be upset when another guy is grabbing at my girlfriend?”

Ex girlfriend, Yoongi thought but he pushed it aside as he spotted for Jungkook and made sure the barbell was put back into its holder when he sat up, “I didn’t say that but… don’t you think you’ve been taking things too far lately? What happened to that Minho guy?”

“Who cares? I’m tired of these people trying so hard to ruin what I’ve built with Y/n,” Jungkook huffed, “I love Y/n and she loves me too, alright? I’ve never felt this way for anyone else and I’m not going to let these fucking… pieces of shit take away the one thing I have ever wanted. You think I want Y/n to be scared of what I’ll do? Do you think I want her to push me away? No! She has to know that I love her so much I’ll do anything to make sure no one hurts her or gets in our way. That’s it.”

Yoongi wasn’t sure what to say anymore. He would never do anything to go against his friend, he’s known him too long and knows too much about what the kid has gone through to ever turn against him but… for the first time, he truly believed something was seriously wrong with Jungkook.

“Is he really okay?” You asked Jin as he joined you for lunch on Monday.

“He’s alright, just a broken nose I guess,” Jin said to the three, “He said he’s not mad, y’know.”

“I know, but I just can’t look at him without feeling guilty,” You admitted, Cai had texted you he was alright after your dozen apologies but you haven’t gone to see him yet.

When you had gotten back inside, everyone was gone and off helping Cai up. Jin took him to the hospital because he didn’t want to deal with the cops either and Yuna and Sieun went with. The only one that had stayed behind was Jimin, hoping you’d be back and away from Jungkook. He took you home and you haven’t been able to see Cai since.

You just couldn’t wrap your mind around it. Jungkook was… he was like a stranger to you. The nice guy you had met was gone and replaced with some monster and it was hard for you to grasp.

Was this the same guy who stuck up for you when Jisoo was upset you rejected him?

The same guy who made you a custom helmet and whined whenever you left bed? He carried you home after a night drinking and took care of you without complaint. Was this really the same guy you saw ignoring the obvious egging of that stranger at the restaurant?

“I swear I’ve never seen Jungkook act like that,” you sighed, biting your bottom lip with worry, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Have you talked to him?” Jimin asked from your side.

“No,” you gasped in shock, “Obviously not, I— he’s tried contacting me but I’m not responding. He broke Cai’s nose.”

“I was just asking,” Jimin said with a shoulder shrug, “The guy’s a psychopath the way he just showed up and did that. He’s dangerous.”

Part of you wanted to deny that and say that Jungkook wasn’t dangerous at all but you can’t. You’re aware something is off about the way he acted and you couldn’t ignore it.

But he reacted so calmly when that guy at the restaurant was trash talking him. He didn’t even look at him and when you asked if he was alright, he said he was fine. How could he assault Cai without wasting a second to think it over? What made this instance different from the other guy? The other guy was actually saying things to get under Jungkook’s while Cai was just being his usual self but photographed in the wrong moment.

“Does anyone remember the news a couple weeks ago? Some guy was hurt in his own home?” You suddenly asked, “Who knows his name?”

“What?” Jin asked with confusion at the change of subject. He wondered if you were still uncomfortable talking about Jungkook and wanted an escape, “Kim Minho or something.”

Don’t ask why you suddenly thought of that but it had been at such an odd time. You had just been having dinner around that neighborhood and suddenly from somewhere around there someone was attacked. You didn’t think of it much back then but now with the way Jungkook had acted with Cai, it made you wonder.

“Alright, well I told Yuna I’d pick her up from work so I should probably get going,” Jin said as he stood up looking at you, “Are you gonna be okay?”

You gave him a brief nod as Jimin stood up too, asking for a quick ride with and it left you alone with Sieun faster than either of you realized. You talked a little during the dinner on Friday but it feels different lately, like she doesn’t want to be around you. Even when Jungkook attacked Cai, she didn’t message you and only tagged along when Jimin made her. It was strange.

“So are you mad at me?” You asked her. Sieun wasn’t looking at you but at the front of the cafe window trying to avoid your stare when you caught her off guard.

“No.”

“Really? It just feels like you’ve been acting different with me lately,” you said, “Is it because of Jungkook? Because of what happened on Friday?”

“It’s not tha—well, I don’t know Y/n. Jungkook seems… he seems like a violent person,” she said to you, “A-nd he doesn’t deserve you and neither do I.”

You looked at her with a sudden racing heart, “Neither do you? What do you mean?”

Her silence alarmed you and it was hard for you to ignore the nervous bite of her bottom lip and shifty eyes, “Did something happen between you guys?”

Now was the time to tell you, while you were still bothered by Jungkook. You had no idea what would come out of her mouth but knowing your friend and her history, it made you worried to find out. You already didn’t want to see him but if something happened between the two of them you can’t imagine it wouldn’t hurt you.

Sieun shook her head, “No. No—I mean, not what you think, but I was drunk and—“

“You slept with him?” You asked, tired of the way she kept stumbling over her words. She needed to just spit it out at this point. What was she trying to say?

“No, but I… Y/n, you’re my best friend and I know what I did was wrong but I did try and flirt with him—he turned me down fast! B-but, I don’t know, he just said some really hurtful shit,” Sieun said with her head down like she was too embarrassed to admit her wrongs.

“So… you were hitting on my boyfriend while sleeping over at my house and he said something that hurt your feelings?” Your tone was cold and distant like you want to sympathize with her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, “What did he say?”

“Nothing, I mean, he called me a slut and a trashy whore and basically told me to fuck off—understandable! I’m really sorry, Y/n, I was drunk,” she practically cried, “I don’t know, he was kind of scary and then seeing what he did to Cai…”

You didn’t say anything and it scared her. Obviously she’s well aware she made a mistake the night she slept over at your place and she seriously regrets it. She wished she wasn’t like this and she doesn’t want you to think you can’t trust her but Jungkook is intense and she doesn’t want you around him.

“Y/n—“

“I should go, I’m gonna be late to my last class,” you finally said with a sigh, raising from the table with your things and ignoring the way she called for your name. To be honest, you just weren’t sure how to take that. Part of you doesn’t want to care because of what Jungkook did to Cai and how it’s better that you just don’t talk to him again… but at the same time, you did have feelings for Jungkook. You wish you could say they disappeared the second he acted like someone you didn’t know but that wouldn’t be the truth at all.

You still want to be with Jungkook and that’s why it hurts you that he put his hands on someone you consider a friend. Not to mention what Sieun said hurt you more than you would like to admit. She’s supposed to be your friend and you know her habits but to find out she would do something behind your back to try and get with your then boyfriend… it doesn’t sit right with you at all.

And it’s annoying how much you missed Jungkook.

jungkook: can we talk

jungkook: ik u don’t want to see me but I miss u

jungkook: u haven’t talked to me in days

jungkook: im sorry

jungkook: can i come over to talk?

Days.

He watched days go past him and you still wouldn’t talk to him. It was getting ridiculous at this point and it was harder for him to be patient. Did you seriously mean it when you said it was over? Did you think he’d just let you walk away from him and have to suffer knowing you won’t talk to him ever again?

Not once since the two of you have met did he think he gave you any reason to want to end things with him and it’s hard for him to believe you’ll end it over something like this. He was upset that you lied to him after knowing he was already upset about you going out and then you dump him like he was in the wrong?

Frankly, he doesn’t give a fuck about what happened to your friend. He doesn’t care if the two of you were close or if he beat him on the floor till he was dragged off him. He doesn’t care if the guy is suffering or if your relationship with him is cut. You are with Jungkook, he should’ve been your first priority the same way you are his. He shouldn’t have to worry about other guys wanting to get with you. He’s loyal to you and he deserves the same so how is it his fault that he reacted in such a way? The picture was enough proof that you didn’t have boundaries with the people around you and all he did was help you set them. Why are you so upset with him because of it?

And it wasn’t fair for you to ignore him and not want to hear his side of things, it bothered him more than anything. He tried being patient, tried giving you time and not show up at your door every hour but he was left with no other option. It’s been hours since he pulled up to your apartment, waiting to see what time you would get home and it’s beginning to get to him.

To be clear, Jungkook doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with what he’s doing. He’s just decided that he’s going to make sure you have no choice but to talk to him. That’s why he’s been in his car across the street waiting to see what time you’ll be home so he could knock on the door.

What he hadn’t expected was to see you walk to the entrance with a guy at your side.

He told himself not to react. All he needed to do was sit back and wait for you to be alone. He didn’t want to think about who this person was and judging by the work attire—a coworker, he assumed—nor did he want to overthink it. You weren’t standing too close to him or looking too happy talking to him and Jungkook had to remind himself that the longer the two of you stood at your door talking. He was not jealous.

Seriously.

You can talk to whoever you want but while he can’t sleep over the fact that you tried breaking up with him, you seem completely fine. Maybe his vision is skewed but why don’t you seem as affected as he does? Why is he the one feeling tossed aside? Is it because he’s always put in more effort? He continues to put in more effort. And despite it all, you would rather spend your time talking and with literally anyone but him. That’s what he was mad about.

So he sat in his car and waited for the guy to leave and all he could think about was how he would storm over there and make you talk to him and try to work things out. He was going to make you forgive him because he can’t stand being away from you or seeing you with anyone else.

When the moment was right, he got out of his car, crossed the street to enter your building, and knocked on your door.

Your vision of him through the peephole was warped but there was no denying that was your ex boyfriend and you couldn’t contain the drop in your face. For some reason, since Jungkook hadn’t shown up at your place crying for you back, you hadn’t taken him as the type but now here he was, leaning his hand against the door looking through the peephole and waiting for you to let him in.

You were stuck between inviting him in or ignoring him further but you were too curious. You haven’t wanted to even think about Jungkook because you knew you would struggle being around him but you also wanted to see him. You missed him and everything you’ve heard should make you run but you can’t just forget he exists. You don’t want to and he’s tired of letting you.

“It’s late,” you said, using little effort to turn him away.

“I just want to talk,” Jungkook said, looking down the hall with worry, “You’ve been ignoring me.”

He said it so nonchalantly like he didn’t care either way and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “Because we’re not together anym—“

“Says who? You didn’t even give me a chance to defend myself, baby,” Jungkook said, circling the door handle and testing to see if it was locked.

You bit back a scoff in disbelief, swinging the door open in anger and barking back, “Defend yourself against what? I literally watched you attack my friend for no reason.”

“I know, I was out of line,” Jungkook pushed the door open, stepping in quickly before you could regret opening it and closing it behind him, “But… you lied to me. You knew I wanted us together that night and you chose your friends and then you lied about what you would be doing. I even told you how uncomfortable I felt for you to be with other guys when I’m not around and you lied and did it behind my back anyway. Do I not have a reason to be upset?”

“Then, you want to ignore me and act like I don’t matter at all and you expect me to just be okay with that?” He went on, his tone growing harsher the longer he went on, “I’m just supposed to stand back and let you throw me away when I’ve done nothing but try and show you how I’ve felt about you since the very beginning? How is that fair, Y/n?”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, hand touching your forehead to ease an approaching headache as you tried to wrap your mind around everything he was saying. You also didn’t expect to suddenly be put on blast and have to deal with the mess that happened.

“I… you broke his nose—how did you even—how’d you know where I wa—you were so angry! It was scary, I’m sorry for lying but I was going to tell you. I tried calling you and you didn’t pick up!” You stumbled over your words, pacing your living room as you tried to talk, “And either way it doesn’t mean you put your hands on someone.”

He wanted to just scream at you and tell you to forget that. Forget your stupid fucking friend.

“Y/n, please, it was a mistake,” he tried to even out his tone and sound calmer, trying a different route to talk to you and get you to sit with him at least, “And I’ll apologize everyday if I have to but please don’t leave me because of it. I—I wasn’t thinking and all I saw was some guy talking to my girlfriend and trying to get touchy.”

“It was scary,” you admitted, warily as he sat down, taking your hand and trying to guide you to sit too, “I’ve never seen you like that before.”

“I know, and you don’t know how much I regret acting that way but I can’t deal with you ignoring me either, sit down please,” he said in a soft, calming tone. You reluctantly let him pull you down, sitting about a foot away from him.

Honestly, Cai had been acting a little too touchy that night but he was supposed to be one of your good friends and you were just going to move on and play it off like his usual self. It is one of those moments where you could understand why Jungkook was bothered, you do have a lot of guy friends and clearly not all have the best intentions. Does that still give him a right to do what he did? No, but… maybe Cai deserved it a little.

He’s the one who insisted on going out for a drink after dinner. He’s the one who stayed by your side majority of the night and begged you to stay. You’re still not sure how Jungkook knew exactly where you were or what picture but now you could only assume someone he knew spotted you. Maybe it looked like you were playing him for another guy and it sucks that you can understand why that would bother him.

Cai isn’t even mad still, of course he thinks you broke it off with Jungkook [which you did!] but how would he feel to know you’re sitting so close to him after feeling so sorry for your friend?

A sigh escaped your lips as you felt yourself slowly giving in to Jungkook and felt his arms down at your waist trying to pull you even close. You were being stubborn and making it hard for him to move you but he didn’t mind putting in the extra effort, he can just see your walls beginning to break down again, “Y/n, please baby, just stop ignoring me.”

You let him pull you onto his lap and even went as far as circling your arm around his shoulders for support as you said, “Why do you know how to fight so well?”

Your question took him off guard but he wasn’t going to act phased by it, instead he took a deep breath and decided he should be honest, “I box, remember? At the gym, a-and make a little money on the side from it.”

“Is that what you do when you hang with your friends?” You asked and he shook his head no.

“No, I wanted to put it behind me but the other night I went to fight because you wanted to go get dinner,” Jungkook cleared his throat awkwardly, “Y/n, I will put it all in the past if you take me back.”

“And what about what your friend said? About how you can’t go to jail again?” You asked abruptly, shifting away from him just slightly and his arms tightened at your waist, “Why are you keeping things from me but expecting me to be honest?”

“Because it’s different,” Jungkook answered bitterly, “I’m keeping things that I’m embarrassed of from you. There’s parts of me I’m too scared to show you and I don’t want you to run away from me, please. I know I have to work on things but I’ve been trying. I’ve been nothing but caring to you and I don’t think it’s fair that my past, of all things, is what pushes you away. I can’t change the things I’ve done but please, Y/n, I’ll be better. I swear it.”

You debated bringing up the Sieun part now that you’ve thought about it better but honestly, there’s nothing to mention. Obviously you hate any sort of slut shaming but she tried to get with your boyfriend. Jungkook chose questionable wording to turn her down but she shouldn’t have thrown herself at him in the first place, right? You decided you won’t stop talking to Sieun over it because as it seems, your boyfriend turned her down pretty fine on his own and it makes you want to trust him so it’s only right he’s able to trust you when you’re with guys, right? You’re going to continue to talk to Sieun but for now on you’re gonna keep her far from whoever you’re seeing because clearly she doesn’t respect you enough to stay away in her own. There’s just too many factors into being her friend or not and you don’t want to jeopardize your friendship with others because of it.

At some point throughout your rampant thoughts, Jungkook’s soft touch on your thigh hadn’t been enough to snap you out of your daze until you felt it travel higher than before.

“Think about it baby,” Jungkook said, thankful that today was like every other day where you wore your pretty little skirts that made it so easy for his hand to find where it wanted to go. Now, his rough fingers were grazing along the softness of your thigh teasingly, “How good are we together? Have I ever treated you wrong?”

You didn’t say anything, quite literally feeling where this was going and stuck between putting a stop to it and letting it go on. He placed a soft kiss against your shoulder blade, “And you’ve missed me too, I know you have so why act like we don’t belong together?”

He felt the way a gasp caught in your throat as his hand disappeared just under your skirt, teasing your inner thighs now. Your hand fell over his as though you’d push him away if he took it too far but you didn’t. You let the tip of his middle finger press against your pantie clad heat testing to see how far he could go before you stopped him. He just can’t help it, he really had missed you so much and he hasn’t been able to see or touch you in so long. How was he supposed to hold himself back when you’re sitting on his lap? If you were still upset with him, you wouldn’t even want him around you but instead he’s managed to get you exactly where he wants you and that’s in his arms.

“Because we barely know anything about each other,” you said bitterly, your back stiffening with anticipation as he teased your covered cunt under your skirt. You really should push him away.

“That’s not true,” Jungkook whispered against your neck, his other hand joined the one under your skirt and moved your underwear to the side making you let out a gasp at the sudden exposure, “I know where you grew up, what you’re studying, what you look like in the morning, what makes you upset, how you like your breakfast and… and I know the sounds you make when I touch you right here.”

To further his point along, he pressed a gentle touch to where your clit is hidden under its hood. He was pulling reactions from your body that you didn’t expect to give him anymore. There was a slight wetness between your folds now that he teased a finger into, sliding it between your labia until his finger was soaked in it. Then, he brought the same coated finger to your clit, softly pressing circles around it as it hardened with his touch. As he did all this, he kissed along your neck nearly making you forget whatever went wrong.

“But what do I really know about you?” You tried to ask between panting breaths, unable to stop your hips from slowly gyrating against his lap when he touched you with both hands, “You’re the one who has been lying, you never told me about your fighting.”

“I planned to,” he admitted, his hand sliding down your folds gently, middle finger pressing into the puddle of slick he knew your entrance was located at. With the added stimulation to your clit, he could feel your body begin to squirm on his lap and it was making his jeans tighten around his groin as he felt arousal begin to seep into his own body. “I was going to tell you everything when the right time came along, you know that.”

“Jungkook,” you sighed, either in a moan or warning but you couldn’t tell anymore and let your head fall back against his shoulder, bucking your hips to meet his hand. His touch was gentle but firm, his caress along your thigh was teasing and when his lips pressed against your neck, you couldn’t help but spread your legs just a little further.

“Yes, baby?” The length of his finger fit perfectly between your folds, massaging them each time he pulled his finger out of your wet pussy. You had begun to grind against his hardened bulge, dragging your hips against his cock while he fingered you. A low groan bubbled in his chest as he looked at your pretty face, lips parted softly and fucking yourself on his fingers, “Did you miss me too?”

You nodded your head, breathing heavily when you felt him dig his stiff cock against your sensitive cunt. The rough material of his jeans felt surprisingly good against your thighs and couldn’t help but hump against it. His lips brushed against yours, “Say it.”

“I missed you,” the words barely made it past your lips before he was kissing you, making you try and twist your upper body to reach him better and moaned into his mouth when he pushed another finger into your cunt, fucking you with both while his tongue made out with yours.

You didn’t receive much warning to the knot that tightened in your stomach the deeper his fingers felt like they could go, and with the sudden adrenaline coursing through your veins, you couldn’t control the wave of orgasm that hit you. Jungkook knew just how to curl his fingers, tease your clit and kiss your neck. It was unfair to come undone by him so easily. Embarrassing even.

Jungkook was left to think the complete opposite. He felt the way your body gave itself to pleasure, felt your thighs twitch and threaten to close. Felt the way your breath hitched between kisses and how you arch your back off him to fight against the feeling he brought to you. It made his cock jump to know he so easily pulled such responses from you, made you feel good and relaxed. Since the first time, he’s been obsessed with making you feel good.

“Let’s take these off,” Jungkook mumbled in a groggy voice laced with arousal. He tugged at the hem of your ruined panties, finally annoyed by them and pulled them down your thighs, “They’re in my way.”

You helped take them off as he began to unbutton his jeans, kicking them off along with his tight briefs that did a poor job of hiding his erect dick. It nearly peaked out from the hem and he got rid of them as fast as he could. His cock stood at attention, watching the way you had leant forward to toss your underwear aside and he couldn’t help but touch it. His hand was still covered in some of your release but it created a soft glide as he jerked his cock teasingly, “Can you sit on it?”

Jungkook had a strange way of sounding demanding while gentle, he had a way of getting what he wanted. Although you were the one to be so hesitant to even let him inside, the thought has completely left your body as you did as told. You didn’t care for protection or anything in the way, in truth you were beyond turned on and you forgot how good Jungkook made you feel.

All that talk about being done, not knowing anything about him and being scared was for nothing because you took his cock all the same. You both moaned at the raw feel of your walls tightening around his dick. You weren’t at all crazy about sex, but you had it with him often and going without it the past week and a half felt too long. Jungkook knew how to please you, he was a good boyfriend and so fucking attractive it was hard for you to care about his other red flags.

And as if someone knew you were succumbing to your supposed ex boyfriend and how his walls stretched you out, the table lit up with a call displayed on your phone. Your hands supported yourself on his knees as you sunk down on his cock, feeling the way his hands inched up your torso, yanking on your shirt to get it off you.

“Good girl,” Jungkook sighed out when you took him fully, swaying your hips to adjust to his size and giving his cock a squeeze, “Just ignore them, alright?”

You bit your lip, looking at the screen where a group call was waiting for you. It was like a wake-up call about your friends and how intimidating Jungkook was to them. He was aggressive and cruel, but was he? He apologizes for what happened with Cai, and he doesn’t care for Sieun because he’s loyal to you so where’s the real problem? It’s definitely not where he groped at your tits, bucking into your cunt with his thick cock, knowing just what pace you liked.

“Fuck,” you let out a soft gasp when it felt like his dick was reaching deeper inside you as he leant forward, making you hold onto the end of the coffee table for support. Your knees hit the ground and he knelt behind you, arching your back just a little more to feel the way your walls rubbed around his dick during every thrust.

“Unless you want them to know who’s fucking you right now,” Jungkook said, his free hand gripping at your hips under your skirt and fucking you on his cock from behind. At some point he hand flung his t-shirt off and he had a clear view of your ass under the skirt. His V-line seemed more pronounced everytime he bucked his hips into you and the veins leading down his navel seemed to throb to life with all the blood flowing to where he fucked you.

He was clearly bluffing [you think] and it made your eyes roll to the back with pleasure, arching back into him and pushing your phone further away before he got any ideas. You clicked for it to stop, struggling with the way your body seemed to jump with each thrust, and flipped it to face down.

“Fuck,” you repeated, dropping your head down, “No.”

Jungkook couldn’t hide the way his face hardened at your whispered no, surely implying that you didn’t want them to know who you were with. He, personally, didn’t seem to care if they knew he was fucking you so well that you could barely stand. What did they expect? He was patient, he was persistent and he was the only one you should be with at the end of the day. Was it the thought of your friends knowing you were having sex or the thought of them knowing it was with him that you didn’t want?”

Didn’t you want him?

“No? Why not?” He asked, hunching over your back to reach your neck, speaking in your ear, “You don’t want anyone knowing you’re with your boyfriend?”

Boyfriend.

Did you decide to take him back and forget everything else? You could fight back and tell him that he’s not your boyfriend but what if that made him stop fucking you?

Did it make you a bad friend to still be with the one guy who makes you feel things and treats you in ways you’re not used to? Jungkook knew you were close again, and he knew it would be hard to get any real response from you but he tried it anyway, knowing just what he wanted you to say, how he wanted you to say it.

“Right, baby, you’re not leaving me,” Jungkook said bluntly, fingers tracing down your side knowing how sensitive you were to any touch, “You and I aren’t breaking up.”

“Jungkook—“

“You’re not going to try and leave me again, are you?” Jungkook asked with a harsh thrust that had your head falling forward with a moan. He brought his hand to the back of your neck, trying to drag your head up to look at him. “I love you.”

Your hand tapped against the coffee table as if asking for a tap-out but he kept going, feeling how you tightened and recoiled against his cock. You were so close. So very close to cumming all over him and he couldn’t wait.

“Say you love me,” he begged, teasing you with open mouth kisses.

“I love you,” you gasped the quicker he went, feeling yourself close to snapping.

“Say it again,” he thrusted into you deeply, giving your hips no room to move as he trapped you against the coffee table.

“I love you,” you repeated with a moan you couldn’t control.

“Again,” he begged, hands falling to the edge of the table and stuffing you with as much of himself as you could take, your sudden high hitting you like before.

The words could barely form on your lips as you let go, feeling your orgasm reach your entire body. Jungkook waited, clenching his jaw the tighter your walls clamped down on him and before he knew it, he was cumming. His eyes squeezed shut with pleasure as he fell limp against your back, “I love you so fucking much, please don’t ever leave me again.”

You would think that by the way he was acting it was like you were broken up for years, not days, and it reminded you of just how obsessed it felt like he was. His need to talk to you all day, visit you all night, and get jealous whenever your attention wasn’t on him.

He was possessive and a liar but why did he care for you so gently? Why was he so harsh with everyone but you and how could you not want to give in to him?

Even as you felt his cum drip out of you when he pulled out, you weren’t worried about the failure to use protection. In truth you were a little dazed by the entire evening to process what had just happened. Your ex suddenly showed up to your place begging for you back with his dick in your pussy and stars in your eyes. Were you not supposed to give in after all of that?

“Angel,” Jungkook touched your naked back softly, “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” you said looking back at him and the way he still struggled to catch his breath, clearly as equally affected by it as you.

“Come here,” he said lovingly as he helped you to your feet, “You look tired.”

He was smug too, a smile showing as he led you to your bedroom like everything was back to normal and you let him. He washed up with you, joined you in your bed and held you while you slept the night away.

All his hard work had paid off and he was back with you in his arms and no one in the way. Whatever you might have thought about him, about him and the guy from the restaurant, or his secret fighting and how he attacked Cai went out the window. You didn’t care about any of it when you were with him.

Everything had gone back to what he considered normal. He was spending practically every night he desired over at your place and you weren’t pushing him away. You gave up on trying to push him away and you’ve been happier ever since.

You haven’t been honest with your friends about him though, they don’t know how you’re back together and frankly, you would rather keep it that way. Cai is finally doing better but things are still awkward between you even if he says he isn’t mad. At the end of the day, he was assaulted just for being around you, even if he had been too touchy. You’re lucky he isn’t pressing charges on Jungkook and you really don’t want anyone to know how easily you took him back. It made you feel shitty but you couldn’t help yourself. Jungkook does make you feel things you’ve never felt before.

“Are you going to go get it?” Jimin asked as you searched inside your backpack for the sixth time in search of your laptop. You forgot it at home and you only knew this because Jungkook had so kindly sent you a text asking if you didn’t need it today. You were running late this morning due to your boyfriend who wouldn’t let you out of bed fast enough and left it on the counter on your way out the door. You had an online exam in less than an hour and you really didn’t want to have to borrow one from the campus library.

“Yeah, if I run I can make it back in time,” you said with a sigh as your two friends followed behind you.

“Want me to come with?” Sieun asked, clearing her throat awkwardly. Since you found out about how she threw herself at Jungkook, she’s made it her mission to get on your good side again. You could’ve easily ended your friendship with her but then you thought about how funny the situation was. As annoying and absurd as it was that she would even try to get at Jungkook, there was something satisfying to know he didn’t succumb to her flirting. Plus, she apologized and you enjoyed making her have to beg for your friendship again.

“Not really, you’ve got another class soon, don’t you?” You said, brushing it off like you were thinking about the trouble it would cause her. In reality, you knew your boyfriend was probably home early from work, probably video gaming on your couch with Bam at his feet and no shirt on. You really didn’t need that to be what she walked into. They walked you to the bus stop but you found yourself wanting to turn away when you looked ahead. You were too nervous to look at either of them but you could read it in the way that they slowed their pace, they were looking at Jungkook.

Just at the entrance gates stood your boyfriend with his signature motorcycle behind him and a baseball cap lowered over his eyes. He smiled at you, opening his backpack and pulling out your laptop.

You couldn’t hold back the sigh of relief you felt as you walked up to him still feeling nervous. You took your laptop and stuffed it into your backpack, “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean?” He asked with a laugh, taking your hand in his and pulling you closer, “I brought it so you wouldn’t have to go back home for it. I thought you’d be a little more thankful.”

“I am, thank you,” you confessed, unable to help the way you looked back at Jimin and Sieun who stood there surprised at the sight. They couldn’t wrap their mind around the idea of you taking your violent boyfriend back.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asked, lifting his head to look behind you but his vision was slightly obscured by the rim of his hat. He didn’t have to see more to understand what the problem was and he couldn't help but let his jaw clench with annoyance. He had growing suspicions and what it might be and he’s not liking it. It’s as if you didn’t want your friends to see you with him.

“Nothing, but seriously, thanks for bringing it to me. I was just about to start walking home,” you said, hoping to ease some of the tension, “I should probably go and study for this exam because I have a strong gut feeling I’m going to fail. Are you staying over again?”

“Can I?” Jungkook questioned, arm tightening around your waist, “Or are you tired of me yet?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You can come over whenever you want, you know that. But okay—I should get going.”

He caught you before you could let go of him and smiled sweetly, teasingly, “Can I get a kiss first?”

It was such a small favor but it felt deeper than that. His smile barely reached his eyes and he was strongly aware of the audience behind you that stared at him with worry. You haven’t told your friends and it bothers him to know you want to keep him a secret. After everything he’s done to get back with you, you want to hide it from your friends? You thought he wouldn’t find out?

“Your hat is in the way,” you said awkwardly trying to pry his arm off you so you could disappear into the library where your friends wouldn’t ask what was going on. You could feel their eyes glaring at the back of your head and seeing Jungkook was surprising enough, watching you kiss him would be unspeakable.

Jungkook grabbed his ballcap by the bill and turned it around on his head, flipping it so the bill was facing the back and the back was in the front, “Better?”

Your lips parted in a small gasp, practically drooling at how he looked. He made it so incredibly hard to resist him. This time around, he grinned, loving the way your cheeks flushed when he riled you up and without asking, leant down to catch your lips with his.

You immediately kissed him back, forgetting about the people who would soon be interrogating you and enjoyed it. When you pulled back, Jungkook was biting on his bottom lip to keep himself from groaning at the taste of you on his tongue, “I’ll pick you up after?”

“Sure,” you said breathlessly, “But I should really go now.”

“Mhm,” Jungkook chuckled looking back at Sieun and Jimin, not caring about the glares they sent him, “Text me when you’re done.”

He watched you walk away with him satisfied by the look of disgust in their faces. When he looked at Sieun, she looked a little scared, and self conscious. She wrapped her arms around herself as if to hide from the hurt his words made her feel still to this day and looked away quickly. Jimin seemed more annoyed than anything, he couldn’t stand the sight of you with Jungkook and it brought him a sort of smugness. He couldn’t take his smirk as he threw a leg over his bike and put his helmet on.

It never bothered Jungkook what anyone else thought about him anyway. He was always going to do and act the way he wanted and at the end of the day, it didn’t change a thing. You saw how violent he could be, you’ve heard what he’s said and yet you still choose him. You chose him over everyone else and that’s all he’s ever wanted.

::.

gahdamn this shit is so long 😭😭😭 damn near two months worth of writing so bare with me

NO PART TWO cause look how long this hoe is. to clarify, jk is not a good person in this fic but he’s hot and it’s fiction so who cares. I was going for something that radiated romantic dreams and fighting hearts so I’m hoping it landed 🤞

PSA: I will be posting a new Google form for my taglist soon bc I can’t access my old one and ik some of the users are inactive now but who knows when I’ll be able to do that sooooo

permanent taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals @fandems @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @skzthinker @beautywine @lilliankoo @annenakamura @lesoleile @burnahtsw @kooloveys @ku-ku @chaelvrx @minnie-mouser22 @whoa-jo @marvelbun @sunnikthv @kochycooky @acielelyseen @giselleswifeee @ilikeitlikethatt @bangmechanpls @lvr2seok @badbyeyoongi @jaerisdiction @watermelonjuice15 @artmsmaid @xyahrinx @angeleen777 @jooniesxbby @dream-cvtcher @jksjx @kissyfacekoo @joyjunk @caro134340lina @hyunjinswifeee @oldermenluverrr @caro134340lina @olivialeesstuff [taglist is too long so I’ll have to make two versions

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: I Want a Refund || Trey Clover

When the universe dunks you into a dumpster fire of a novel as the villainess, survival is key. Except your husband, Trey Clover, turns out to be such a green flag that it gets a little harder to function.

Series Masterlist

You prided yourself on being a normal, decent person. Maybe even a good person, depending on who you asked. Sure, you weren’t out here saving kittens from trees or solving world hunger, but you did your part.

You recycled when you remembered, held the door open for strangers (if they were close enough, you weren’t that kind of hero), and even tossed bread crumbs to the pigeons outside your apartment every now and then. It wasn’t much, but it was honest work.

So, really, what you didn’t expect was to be completely betrayed by the universe. The betrayal began small, like a mosquito buzzing in your ear: the newest novel you’d been anticipating for months was sold out.

“Are you serious?” you grumbled, glaring at the empty display like it had just insulted your mother. A handwritten sign on the shelf read: ‘SOLD OUT! More in stock soon!’ in cheerful cursive, as if mocking you.

What were you supposed to do now? Go home empty-handed? Waste your perfectly good afternoon plans of curling up with a book? Absolutely not. Refusing to admit defeat, you scanned the bookstore until your gaze fell on the “New and Best-Selling” rack.

One book immediately caught your eye. The cover was... well, something. It looked like someone had raided a middle schooler’s stash of Barbie stickers, splattered glitter over the whole thing, and slapped on an aggressively curly gold font that screamed, I’M A ROMANCE NOVEL!

You sighed. “Fine. How bad could it be?”

It could be very, very bad.

The first red flag was the synopsis. It introduced Trey Clover, the Grand Duke, who loved his spouse, the villainess, with a devotion so pure it made you want to gag. But then came the second male lead, the Prince, who confessed his love to Trey and the villainess, because monogamy was too boring for this book.

And then there was the heroine. The synopsis just called her “the Saintess,” because why bother giving her a name when her only personality trait was being the worst human being imaginable? She appeared out of nowhere, became the Saintess overnight (because logic?), and made it her life’s mission to ruin the villainess’s life while somehow convincing everyone she was an angel.

Oh, and the Prince? The book had him slip on a rock and die halfway through the plot, like the author had a word count limit and didn’t know what else to do with him. The villainess ends up dying too, right aftetr asking Trey for a divorce to "protect him." The ending involved Trey marrying the heroine, despite spending the entire book side-eyeing her like she owed him rent.

You closed the book slowly, your soul drained of all joy. “What in the fresh hell did I just read?”

But no, you couldn’t let this stand. You were a taxpayer, a contributing member of society. You did not deserve this literary slap in the face.

With righteous indignation burning in your chest, you marched back to the bookstore. You slapped the book onto the counter with a dramatic flair that deserved a standing ovation.

“Refund,” you declared, glaring at the cashier.

“Uh... we don’t usually do refunds on books you’ve already read...” they began hesitantly.

“I don’t care,” you snapped, pointing at the glittering monstrosity. “This isn’t a book. It’s a hate crime against literature. A refund, please, before I start sobbing in public.”

After a long pause—and possibly fearing a customer service meltdown—they handed you store credit. Satisfied but still simmering with rage, you stomped out of the store, muttering to yourself about bad authors, worse editors, and the existential crisis of knowing someone got paid to write that garbage.

And that’s when karma struck.

A segway—a SEGWAY—came hurtling toward you at Mach speed, piloted by a man dressed in full medieval knight armor.

“MAKE WAY FOR SIR SCOOTINGTON!” he screamed, his voice muffled by his helmet.

You froze. Your brain could not process this level of absurdity in such a short amount of time. Was this a prank? A hallucination? Had the book actually been cursed and now you were living out its bad writing?

The segway didn’t stop. It hit you with a solid THUNK, sending you flying backward into a suspiciously well-placed pile of garbage bags.

As you lay there, buried under the remains of someone’s takeout and a very old banana peel, as your vision started to blur, you stared at the sky and thought:

Dawg, why me??

You woke up to the faint chirping of birds and the kind of silence that only rich people seem to afford. Something felt... off. The sheets were too soft, like they’d been spun from angel whispers and a mid-tier deity’s hair. Your pillow was the perfect combination of fluffy and firm, a far cry from the lumpy second-hand abomination you’d bought on sale three years ago.

Your eyes cracked open, squinting against the sunlight filtering through an elaborate, gold-encrusted chandelier. A chandelier. In a bedroom. You lived in a shoebox apartment; your idea of luxury was a lamp that wasn’t from a clearance bin.

You turned your head slightly, and your soul froze mid-exit.

There was someone next to you.

Your brain screeched to a halt, flashing every warning signal it had. Stranger. Bed. You. No.

The only living thing that should’ve been in your apartment was the stray cat you’d nicknamed Gremlin, and he sure as hell didn’t have human proportions or a steady breathing rhythm.

Slowly—painstakingly—you tilted your head to look at your unwanted companion.

It was a man. A very attractive man, sleeping peacefully on his side, glasses perched askew on the nightstand. His hair was a soft mess, his breathing even, and his entire aura screamed gentle husband vibes.

Then recognition sucker-punched you in the gut.

No.

No.

It couldn’t be.

You blinked. Looked again. Replayed every horrible memory of that atrocious novel you had read, and then read again because you hated yourself.

It was Trey Clover.

Male lead. Gentleman. Human embodiment of a warm cup of tea. The guy who was in love with his villainess spouse (you remembered her being dramatic but competent) before the world went full dumpster fire.

Your breathing hitched. You stared down at your hands, and they stared back—perfectly manicured, dainty, soft hands that had never touched a single dirty dish or over-scrubbed countertop.

The reality hit you like a segway knight at full speed.

You’d been isekai’d.

You fought the urge to scream into the pillow. Was this some karmic punishment for returning that book? Was your snarky review in the Reddit thread too harsh? Because this? This was an unholy level of irony.

Trey stirred beside you, his brow furrowing slightly as his hand lazily reached for his glasses. He slid them on, blinking sleepily as his gaze landed on you.

“What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, groggy, and just a little raspy—the kind of voice you’d pay extra to have someone read you bedtime stories with. “You’re staring.”

For a moment, your brain blue-screened. Trey Clover—novel character and now your husband, apparently—was looking at you with concern, and all you could think was: At least he’s hot.

“…Nothing,” you croaked, swallowing down the rising tide of panic. “Just… processing.”

“Processing what?” he asked, sitting up slightly and rubbing his eyes, his entire demeanor radiating "adoring husband" energy.

You clenched the sheets in your fists, trying to will yourself to wake up from this insane fever dream. Unfortunately, the chandelier wasn’t disappearing, Trey wasn’t fading into mist, and your perfectly moisturized skin wasn’t breaking into your usual crusty dryness.

This was real.

And somehow, you were the villainess in a novel you’d once described as "a literary abomination designed to kill brain cells."

The sound of a soft knock at the bedroom door made you jump, nearly upsetting the tower of books you’d been flipping through in your attempt to figure out where in the dumpster fire of this timeline you were.

“Come in?” you called hesitantly, trying to shove the incriminating evidence of your non-villainess-like behavior—a half-written list titled HOW TO NOT DIE TRAGICALLY—under a pillow.

Trey stepped in, balancing a tray of food like he was auditioning for Husband of the Year. His hair was slightly mussed, the sleeves of his button-up rolled up just enough to show forearms that could inspire sonnets. The man was a walking Pinterest board, and it was unfair.

“I brought you something to eat,” he said with a small smile, setting the tray on the table. “You’ve been skipping meals, and that’s not like you.”

You laughed nervously, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. “Oh, um, yeah. Upset stomach. You know how it is.”

Trey raised an eyebrow, his smile unwavering but his eyes far too knowing. “Sure. And I’ll be here while you eat, just to make sure you’re feeling better.”

Oh, no.

You stared at the tray like it had betrayed you. Soup, bread, and some suspiciously perfect desserts that looked like they had been made by the hands of an angel. You couldn’t say no without sounding even sketchier.

“Right,” you muttered, picking up the spoon with the grace of someone about to face a firing squad. As you sipped, Trey watched silently, his chin resting on one hand, his soft gaze pinned on you. The air felt so heavy you could’ve cut it with a butter knife.

“Are you going to go through with it?” he asked suddenly.

You froze mid-bite, the words hitting you like a frying pan to the face. “Go through with… what?”

“The divorce,” he said simply.

You choked on your soup. The spoon clattered back into the bowl as you grabbed a napkin, trying to avoid literally dying of shock. Divorce? Divorce?! That wasn’t in the plan! You knew what happened after the divorce—the villainess died, and you weren’t about to let fate steamroll you into an early grave, again.

“What? No! Of course not!” you sputtered, waving your hands in frantic denial. “Why would I want a divorce? You’re, uh, great! Fantastic! A literal dream husband!”

Trey blinked, his brows furrowing in confusion before his expression softened into something warmer, almost relieved. “You… want to work things out?”

“Yes!” you blurted, nodding with enough enthusiasm to give yourself whiplash. “Absolutely! Let’s work this out. Together. Like a team.”

His lips curved into a rare, genuine smile that nearly melted you on the spot. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to your forehead that left your brain doing cartwheels. “Alright. I’ll hold you to that. I’ll be back for dinner, so rest up until then.”

He left the room, and the moment the door clicked shut, you flopped back onto the bed like a deflated balloon. The pillow muffled your scream of embarrassment as you kicked your feet, equal parts flustered and mortified. What was that? Why did he have to be so sweet? How were you supposed to survive this level of tenderness without combusting?

The door creaked open again.

You froze mid-giggle, legs tangled in the sheets like a caught fish. Trey stood in the doorway, eyebrow raised and looking like he was about two seconds away from bursting into laughter. “Forgot my pen,” he said casually, strolling over to grab the item from the bedside table.

You wanted the floor to swallow you whole. “Oh. Uh. Right.”

He paused on his way out, leaning down to kiss your cheek with infuriating gentleness. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

And just like that, he was gone again, leaving you red-faced, flustered, and questioning every life choice that had led to this moment.

It had been such a nice meal. The kind where the food was good, the company better, and the wine just strong enough to make you feel warm and floaty but not stupid. Trey was smiling faintly at you over his plate, his rare but deeply satisfying I’m enjoying myself face in full effect, and you dared to think, Hey, maybe I can survive this isekai nonsense after all.

And then the restaurant door swung open, and your fragile peace shattered like a dropped wine glass.

The prince had arrived.

Trey’s face immediately darkened like a thunderstorm on the horizon, and you felt yourself lose a year of your life just from sheer dread. The prince was a walking disaster in human form, and you’d been hoping to avoid him like the plague. But the universe clearly hated you because here he was, sashaying through the restaurant like he owned the place.

“Oh no,” you whispered, gripping your fork like it could somehow protect you.

Trey’s jaw tightened as the prince spotted you both, his grin wide enough to make you wish the floor would open up and swallow you.

“Darlings!” the prince cried, crossing the room with the enthusiasm of a golden retriever off its leash. “Fancy seeing you here!”

You didn’t even get a chance to object before he grabbed a chair from a nearby table, spun it around dramatically, and wedged himself between you and Trey, plopping down like he’d been invited. Spoiler alert: he hadn’t.

“Your Highness,” Trey said through clenched teeth, managing to sound both polite and like he was ready to stab someone with a salad fork.

“Oh, come now, Trey,” the prince laughed, waving off the formality. “No need to be so stiff. After all, we’re practically family!”

You didn’t get the chance to ask how that made sense before he grabbed your hand—and Trey’s—planting a wet, sloppy kiss on each. The sound it made was unholy, like a boot pulling free from a swamp. You and Trey simultaneously stiffened, the same thought clearly running through your minds: Don’t cringe, don’t cringe, don’t cringe…

“I simply had to come over when I saw you two!” the prince gushed, oblivious to your visible discomfort. “The saintess—bless her kind, radiant heart—has been dying to see you both!”

You glanced at Trey, who was visibly restraining himself from rolling his eyes.

“She’s throwing a ball this weekend,” the prince continued, clasping his hands together like he was sharing the world’s most exciting news. “And you must come. Truly, it’d be… well, treasonous not to, considering we’re both inviting you!”

Ah, there it was. The veiled threat disguised as politeness. You hated that this guy was smart enough to wield his royal status as a weapon, even if he made everything sound like it came with a complimentary gift basket.

You forced a smile, hoping it didn’t look too much like a grimace. “We’d be honored, Your Highness.”

Trey shot you a subtle look, one that very clearly said Traitor, but you knew he agreed. Anything to avoid another round of Wet Hand Kisses.

“Wonderful!” the prince declared, clapping his hands together. “I knew you two would understand. You always were the reasonable ones.”

He finally stood up, ruffling Trey’s hair in a way that made his eye twitch before striding off like he hadn’t just hijacked your peaceful dinner.

As soon as the door swung shut behind him, you slumped back in your chair, utterly drained. “I feel like I need to bathe in holy water.”

Trey pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering something that sounded suspiciously like, “I should’ve poisoned his dessert last time.”

You stared at him. “You what?”

“Nothing,” he said, picking up his fork like nothing had happened. “Let’s finish eating.”

You could still feel the ghost of the prince’s wet kiss on your hand, and you shuddered. “Do you think we can fake our deaths before Saturday?”

Trey actually looked like he was considering it.

The ball was, against all odds, actually enjoyable. The lights glittered like fairy dust, the music was just the right level of lively, and the wine was strong enough to turn your earlier dread into a warm, floaty haze. Trey was by your side, charming in his tailored suit, and for once, the prince and saintess were blissfully absent.

"Maybe they got lost," you whispered to Trey, leaning in conspiratorially. "Or better yet, maybe they found a better party and decided to leave us alone."

Trey smirked, sipping his wine. "If only we were that lucky."

Your hopes were dashed, naturally, when the prince appeared out of nowhere like some unholy summon. One second you were lifting a glass to your lips, and the next, your arm was being yanked so hard you almost spilled your drink.

“Come now, my dear!” the prince declared, grinning in a way that felt more like a threat than an invitation. “Dance with me!”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were being twirled onto the dance floor. Across the room, you caught a glimpse of Trey being snatched by the saintess, who looked like she had all the coordination of a baby deer on ice.

The prince pulled you in too close, his breath an unholy concoction of garlic and what might’ve been sour milk. You tried to politely lean back, but he just leaned closer, grinning obliviously.

“You’re stiff, my dear,” he said, his voice low and entirely too sultry for someone who smelled like a kitchen accident. “Loosen up!”

Meanwhile, Trey was enduring his own nightmare. The saintess stepped on his foot with her stiletto for the fourth time, and you could swear you saw him wince in actual pain. She was chattering nonstop about something—maybe puppies, maybe world peace—you couldn’t hear over the sound of her heels clobbering the floor.

When the ordeal finally ended, you staggered back to Trey, feeling like you’d aged ten years. He looked equally frazzled, rubbing his shoulder like it had been yanked out of its socket.

“I’d say that was horrible,” he said under his breath, “but I think ‘horrible’ is too kind.”

Before you could respond, the saintess suddenly tripped. She wasn’t even near you—she was all the way across the room—but she hit the ground with a dramatic thud, and her dress promptly ripped down the side.

You blinked. “Wait, what just—”

“I knew it!” she screeched, pointing an accusatory finger at you from the floor. “You sabotaged me!”

The prince, for once, looked baffled. He glanced between her and you like he was trying to solve a complicated riddle. “But… she wasn’t even near you?”

“SABOTAGE!” the saintess shrieked again, her voice cracking.

The original villainess would’ve taken the high road, maybe pretended to be insulted or outraged. You, however, were just drunk enough to find the entire thing hilarious.

You laughed. Loudly.

And to your absolute delight, the crowd followed suit. Quiet snickers turned into outright guffaws as everyone around you dissolved into laughter.

The saintess gawked, looking like a wet cat as she scrambled to her feet. “You’re all… MONSTERS!” she shrieked, before fleeing the room with a level of dramatics that would make even a soap opera jealous.

The prince hesitated, torn between chasing after her or staying to glower at you and Trey. Finally, with a sigh that sounded suspiciously like “I hate my life,” he ran after her, disappearing into the night.

“Well,” Trey said, offering his hand with a faint smirk, “that was… something. Care to salvage the evening with a proper dance?”

You took his hand, letting him spin you onto the floor. The music softened, the crowd fading into the background as Trey pulled you close.

“You look stunning tonight,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear as you danced.

The compliment hit you like a sucker punch, leaving you so dazed that, in your flustered state, you impulsively dipped him instead of the other way around.

Trey laughed, eyes crinkling with genuine delight. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” you hissed, cheeks burning as you held the pose.

But to your surprise, he didn’t protest. He let you dip him, even laughing as you pulled him back up. And when the dance ended, he kissed your cheek, sending your heart into a full-on meltdown.

“That,” he said, his voice filled with amusement, “was the most fun I’ve had at a ball in years.”

The tea party was a picturesque affair, all pastel tablecloths, delicate porcelain cups, and the kind of floral arrangements that screamed wealth and good taste. You were seated with Riddle, Cater, and Che’nya at a table tucked under a wisteria-laden gazebo, trying your best to survive the endless parade of gossip and sweets.

The conversation drifted naturally, like it always did, until someone—probably Cater—brought up the topic of Trey.

“Y’know,” Cater began, swirling his tea with exaggerated nonchalance, “Trey’s been looking at you like you personally hung the moon and stars lately. It’s kinda adorable.”

Che’nya leaned over, grinning like the Cheshire Cat he was. “So deep in love, it’s practically a romantic trench. What’s your secret, huh? Love potion? A really good pie?”

You chuckled, brushing off the comment, but then you glanced across the garden—and froze.

There he was, Trey Clover, the ridiculously perfect husband material that fate had handed you in this bizarre isekai life. He was standing a little ways off, chatting with a few nobles, but his gaze was unmistakably fixed on you.

When your eyes met, he smiled. Not just any smile—a warm, genuine, I-would-die-for-you-and-bake-you-cookies-afterwards kind of smile. It hit you like a runaway carriage.

Your chest tightened, your stomach flipped, and for a moment, the entire world seemed to pause.

Oh no.

Oh no.

You were in so deep.

Like, Titanic-hitting-the-iceberg-and-sinking-to-the-ocean-floor deep.

“Uh oh,” Cater sang, leaning closer with a smirk that could only mean trouble. “I know that look. Someone just had their Hallmark movie epiphany.”

You snapped out of it, cheeks burning. “What look? I don’t have a look!”

“Oh, you totally do,” Che’nya chimed in, his grin somehow wider. “It’s all dreamy and starry-eyed, like you’re in a fairy tale. Which, I guess you kinda are?”

Riddle, ever the straight man in these situations, regarded you with a mix of pity and exasperation. “Please tell me you’re not about to let these two meddle in your relationship.”

But before you could defend yourself, Cater was already leaning forward, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Cay-Cay’s got you covered! Wanna confess? I can totally set the mood—candles, roses, soft music…”

“I—what?” you stammered, still too dazed by your revelation to form a coherent response.

“That’s a yes!” Che’nya declared, clapping his hands together. “Alright, let’s brainstorm. Hot air balloon confession? Dramatic rain scene? Ooh, what about—”

“Absolutely not,” Riddle interrupted, his tone sharp as ever. He turned to you, expression weary. “I’ll make sure they don’t do anything absurd, but honestly, why not just tell Trey yourself? He’s your husband.”

You groaned, sinking into your chair as Cater and Che’nya continued to scheme with increasingly outlandish ideas. Meanwhile, Riddle looked at you like you’d just wired your entire fortune to a scammer and promised to fix it for you later.

Across the garden, Trey caught your gaze again, his brows furrowing slightly in concern at your flustered state. He started to make his way over, and your heart leapt into your throat.

Oh no.

Whatever happened next, you were absolutely not ready.

Riddle had been firm, as always. “A pie,” he said with the kind of authority you’d expect from someone sentencing a man to death. “It’s simple, heartfelt, and Trey would appreciate the effort. Not that I have time to indulge in frivolities like this, but… you’re lucky I know the basics.”

Turns out, Riddle did not know the basics. And neither did you.

What followed could only be described as a culinary catastrophe.

The kitchen looked like it had been struck by a flour tornado, with you and Riddle at its chaotic epicenter. Your attempt at pie dough was a war crime in the making—half stuck to the counter, half to your hands, and none of it remotely edible.

“Why is it stretching?” Riddle hissed, his face as red as his hair, holding one end of the dough while you gripped the other. The elastic monstrosity between you refused to snap, stretching longer and longer like some unholy noodle.

“I don’t know!” you shrieked back, your voice an octave higher than usual. “I followed the instructions! Mostly! Kind of!”

“‘Kind of’ isn’t good enough! Put some force into it!”

Riddle tugged one end of the dough like he was in a tug-of-war with a particularly stubborn ghost. You yanked back, and the dough elongated even further, wobbling ominously in the air.

That’s when Trey walked in.

He stopped in the doorway, taking in the absolute chaos: the flour-streaked counter, the rolling pin embedded in what used to be a bag of sugar, and you and Riddle holding opposite ends of the world’s saddest dough.

“What… exactly is happening here?” Trey asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

You froze, still clutching the dough. Riddle looked like he wanted the earth to swallow him whole.

“We’re baking,” you managed to squeak out.

Trey blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound warm and rich like honey. “Is that what you’re calling this?”

His laughter didn’t help your embarrassment, but the way he stepped forward, gently taking the dough from you and Riddle like a benevolent baking god, did. “Alright, let’s see if we can salvage this. Flour, water… and patience. You two watch and learn.”

You stood back, flustered and hopelessly smitten as Trey worked his magic. In minutes, he turned your disaster into a perfectly respectable pie crust. He even smiled at you both as if to say nice try, kids, and it made you feel oddly warm inside.

Still too mortified to admit the pie was meant for him, you let him finish it while Riddle quietly excused himself, muttering about overdue paperwork.

You did feel for Riddle, poor guy was stuck babysitting the Prince after all. Maybe the dough was sad because of his stress.

Later, Cater and Che’nya were far too pleased with themselves when they found you.

“So,” Cater said, grinning, “how’s Operation Swoon going?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” you grumbled, remembering the dough debacle.

Che’nya’s grin widened. “Lucky for you, we’ve got Plan B: flowers! Romantic, classic, and impossible to mess up.”

You weren’t sure about that last part, but their enthusiasm was infectious. You ended up at a florist with Cater coaching you through every step, from picking out the blooms to tying a ribbon. By the time you were done, the bouquet looked gorgeous.

When you handed the flowers to Trey later, he looked… stunned. His eyes widened, his cheeks turned faintly pink, and his smile was so soft and genuine that you nearly dropped dead on the spot.

“For me?” he asked, his voice quieter than usual.

You nodded, suddenly nervous. “Yeah. Just, uh, wanted to thank you. For everything. You know.”

Trey cradled the bouquet like it was something precious. “Thank you. Really. This means a lot.”

And when he smiled at you again, you realized that maybe, just maybe, Cater and Che’nya’s meddling wasn’t so bad after all.

You were practically vibrating with excitement as you entered the restaurant, rare flower in hand. You’d spent far too much money on it, but it was worth it. Trey deserved nothing less. The merchant had waxed poetic about how the flower symbolized eternal devotion, and you figured it was the perfect way to set the stage for your long-overdue confession.

Trey was already seated at the table, his calm demeanor somehow both comforting and devastatingly attractive. When he saw you approach, his eyes softened, and that sweet smile of his—the one that made your knees weak—spread across his face.

You handed him the flower, and his expression lit up as though you’d just handed him the moon.

“For me?” he asked, his voice full of surprise and warmth.

“Of course,” you said, a little shy but mostly proud of yourself. “I thought it suited you.”

His fingers brushed yours as he took the flower, and before you knew it, you were holding hands across the table. The atmosphere felt perfect—soft candlelight, his warm gaze locked on yours, and your heart pounding like it had just discovered cardio.

This was it. The moment to confess that you loved him.

You opened your mouth, ready to pour your heart out—

And then she appeared.

The saintess, an uninvited hurricane in the form of a woman, swept into the room with all the grace of a bull in a china shop. You barely had time to process her arrival before she snatched the flower from Trey’s hand like a seagull stealing a french fry.

“Oh, Trey, you shouldn’t have!” she gushed, clutching the flower to her chest like a deranged soap opera villain. “How thoughtful of you to get this for me!”

Trey’s face froze in what could only be described as polite murder. His jaw tightened, his grip on the table visibly white-knuckled.

You, however, were already halfway to a breakdown. “Excuse me?” you sputtered.

The saintess ignored you entirely.

Enter the prince, the human equivalent of a golden retriever who’d been hit on the head one too many times. He trailed behind her, clearly regretting his existence. For once, he seemed to grasp the gravity of the situation and awkwardly tried to mediate.

“Ah, maybe I should—uh—just give this back,” he mumbled, reaching for the flower.

The saintess responded by shoving him.

The prince, unprepared for even the gentlest resistance, stumbled directly into Trey’s arms.

Trey, now holding a grown man like a bridal bouquet, froze. His eyes darted to you, silently screaming what do I do with this?

Before he could decide, the prince looked up at him, smiled coyly, and winked.

You might’ve laughed if the saintess hadn’t chosen that exact moment to drape herself across you.

“Oh, my dear friend,” she simpered, batting her lashes, “surely you understand Trey’s affection for me. You’ll support us, won’t you?”

You were too stunned to respond, stuck holding the saintess like an overly affectionate sloth. Across the table, Trey looked like he was begging whatever gods existed for an escape route.

Finally, something in Trey snapped. Gently—yet firmly—he set the prince in his seat like a toddler being put in timeout. Then, without a word, he reached across, grabbed the saintess by the arm, and unceremoniously deposited her in her own chair.

“You’ll have to excuse us,” Trey said, his voice smooth but his expression pure I’m done with this nonsense. He grabbed your hand and pulled you out of the restaurant, not even sparing a glance back.

Oh, and he definitely took the flower back.

In the carriage, Trey was silent, his expression unreadable. You hesitated before asking, “Are you okay?”

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m just… tired.”

“Of what?”

“Of not having moments with you for myself,” he said, his voice soft but full of frustration. “Every time I try to enjoy being with you, someone interrupts. I just… I want you. Just you.”

Your heart practically melted on the spot. Overwhelmed by his honesty, you leaned forward and kissed him—a gentle, tentative gesture that said everything you’d been too nervous to put into words.

Trey froze for a moment, then pulled you closer, kissing you again, this time deeper and with so much emotion that you thought your brain might short-circuit. His hands cradled your face, and the world outside the carriage ceased to exist.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his smile so radiant it made your heart skip. “I guess this means you’re mine?”

You nodded, breathless.

“And I’m yours,” he murmured, sealing the confession with another kiss that left you thoroughly, blissfully dazed.

It was supposed to be a simple stroll through the common garden—just you and Trey enjoying a rare moment of peace. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and you were basking in the warmth of Trey's smile when, out of the corner of your eye, you saw him.

The prince.

And worse, the pebble.

You recognized it instantly—the cursed rock from the original novel, the one destined to send the prince spiraling into a tragic, fatal end. It glittered ominously on the path, as if taunting fate.

The prince, blissfully unaware, strutted forward like he owned the place. He stepped right onto the pebble, his foot slipping out from under him with comical precision.

In that split second, you knew what you had to do. Annoying as he was, no one deserved to die because of a glorified piece of gravel.

You lunged forward, grabbing the prince by the arm and yanking him upright just before disaster struck.

He looked at you, wide-eyed, for all of two seconds before breaking into a toothy grin. “Ah, so this is love,” he declared, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “Fear not, my dear! Your feelings for me are obvious, and I, in my infinite generosity, shall grant you the honor of becoming my bride!”

Trey, who had been watching this unfold with his usual calm, suddenly stiffened. His hand slipped into yours, his grip firm but not unkind as he gently pulled you closer.

“Your Highness,” Trey began, his voice polite but laced with steel, “I think you may have misunderstood something.”

“Oh?” The prince arched a brow, clearly oblivious to the warning signs.

“She's already married,” Trey said, his tone so calm and measured it was borderline terrifying. “To me.”

The prince’s eyes lit up with excitement, not deterred in the slightest. “A rivalry for their love, then? Excellent! Let the best man win!”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Riddle—ever the voice of reason (or exhaustion)—strode into the fray like a man who had been dealing with this nonsense for far too long.

“Your Highness,” Riddle snapped, looking entirely done with life. “What in the sevens are you doing?” Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed the prince by the collar and dragged him away like a scolding parent hauling a toddler out of the candy aisle.

“You can’t just propose to married people!” Riddle hissed as they disappeared down the path.

Left in their wake, you spotted Cater and Che’nya lounging under a tree, shamelessly munching on popcorn. Cater caught your eye and waved, looking far too entertained by the whole ordeal.

“Did you see Trey’s face?” Che’nya whispered loudly. “I’d give it a solid nine out of ten on the jealousy scale.”

“Totally,” Cater agreed. “Hey, Alfred!” he called to the butler nearby. “Get me a glass of wine; this show’s getting good!”

Before you could decide whether to laugh or cringe, Trey’s hand gently tilted your chin, drawing your attention back to him.

“Focus on me,” he murmured, his gaze locking onto yours.

And oh, jealous Trey was adorable. His usual calm demeanor was tinged with a possessiveness that made your heart skip several beats.

Caught up in the moment, you leaned forward and kissed him, a quick but sweet gesture that left him blinking in surprise before a soft smile spread across his face.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Cater almost spill his wine in excitement, while Che’nya clapped like a seal.

“Now that’s spicy!” Che’nya crowed.

“I need another glass,” Cater sighed dramatically, as if the sheer romance was too much for his delicate heart.

But you didn’t care. Trey’s arm slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and for once, the rest of the world faded away.

The war room was dead silent, the kind of silence so heavy you could hear the shuffle of maps and the scratch of quills on parchment. Every important figure of the empire was present—Trey and you, the Emperor and Empress, military generals whose scowls could crack stone, the Pope looking as though he’d rather be anywhere else, and, shockingly, even the Prince, for once not actively trying to ruin someone’s day.

Strategies were discussed in grim tones. Supply lines, terrain advantages, possible reinforcement numbers—you and Trey were fully immersed in weighing the support your duchy could offer. For once, even the Prince managed to look engaged, though he was suspiciously chewing on the end of his quill like a kid stuck in detention.

Then, like an uninvited storm, the doors slammed open.

“Hellooooooo!”

Every head in the room turned as the Saintess waltzed in, an hour late, as if this were a garden party and not a high-stakes war council. She was dressed in what could only be described as a fever dream of bad taste: a dress so garish and bedazzled it could probably be seen from orbit, complete with absurd feathered accessories sticking out at odd angles like a startled peacock.

“Sorry, I’m late,” she sang, twirling unnecessarily as if this was a runway. “I couldn’t decide which dress to wear. Do you think this one looks good?”

The silence was palpable, charged with a collective secondhand embarrassment that could power an entire city.

You pinched the bridge of your nose, wondering if you could claim an "upset stomach" for the fifth time this month. Then, unable to stop yourself, you deadpanned, “Yes. It’d make a great enemy flag.”

Trey choked on a laugh, quickly covering it with a cough. The Pope crossed himself, possibly praying for patience. One of the military generals muttered something under his breath, hand twitching toward the hilt of his sword. The Prince just buried his face in his hands.

The Saintess, predictably, burst into tears. “You’re so mean! I’m just trying to brighten up this dreary meeting!”

The Emperor looked deeply, soul-crushingly confused, glancing at the generals as if to ask, Does this happen often? Meanwhile, the Empress, seated beside him, was gripping the armrest of her chair so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

Trey sighed and leaned closer to you. “I’ll handle it,” he murmured, giving you a quick nod before standing.

He approached her like one might approach a wild animal, hands raised in surrender. “Saintess, perhaps we could discuss this outside—”

But no sooner had he stepped within arm’s reach did she trip. On purpose.

In what could only be described as an Olympian-level act of self-preservation, Trey sidestepped so swiftly she ended up flailing through the air like a failed acrobat.

She landed directly on top of the Emperor.

The entire room froze.

The Emperor looked down at the Saintess sprawled across his lap with the bewilderment of someone who just found a raccoon in their bed. The generals were wide-eyed, clearly waiting for his reaction before deciding if they needed to draw their swords. The Pope had started sweating through his robes, clutching his staff like it was his last lifeline.

And then, like an avenging goddess, the Empress rose from her seat.

Without a single word, she grabbed the Saintess by her feathered hairpiece and hauled her up like a disobedient child. The Saintess shrieked, limbs flailing, but the Empress dragged her toward the door with a grim determination.

“OUT.”

The doors slammed shut behind them, and the silence that followed was deafening.

Trey cleared his throat, brushing off his sleeves as if nothing had happened. “Well,” he said, returning to his seat beside you. “That was… eventful.”

“Eventful?” you hissed, elbowing him. “She just dive-bombed the Emperor!”

Trey shrugged, lips twitching. “And yet here we are, still alive. I’d call that a win.”

Across the table, the Emperor straightened his robes, trying to reclaim what little dignity he had left. “Shall we… continue?” he asked, though his tone suggested he wanted nothing more than a stiff drink and a nap.

You nodded, biting your lip to suppress a laugh as the meeting resumed. Somehow, against all odds, you managed to get back to planning strategy. But you knew this story was one for the history books. Or at least for drunken retellings later.

The negotiation room was a grand affair, with gilded walls, an impossibly long table, and an air of tension so thick you could slice it with a butter knife.

The opposing kingdom’s crown princess sat across from your delegation, radiating intelligence and poise. Her every word was measured, her presence commanding, and she somehow managed to make a simple quill look like a weapon of mass destruction.

Meanwhile, your prince was... spinning in his chair.

“Wheeeee!”

You felt your soul leave your body.

“Your Highness,” Riddle hissed, his voice laced with the kind of fury only a man on the verge of a migraine could muster. “Compose yourself!”

The prince paused mid-spin, blinking like he’d just remembered where he was. “Right, right. Negotiations. Totally got this.” He picked up a quill and twirled it between his fingers like a toddler pretending to be an adult.

You buried your face in your hands, quietly mourning the future of your kingdom.

Across the table, their saint was the picture of grace, clasping their hands as though ready to bestow divine blessings upon the room. They exuded an aura of peace and righteousness that made you think, Ah, yes, this is what a saint should look like.

And then there was your saintess.

She was currently leaning against the wall, dramatically fanning herself with a peacock-feathered fan that you were pretty sure wasn’t hers. She’d arrived late, claiming she’d been “blessed by the spirits of fashion,” and was wearing a gown so covered in rhinestones that it could probably be seen from space.

You caught Trey’s eye from across the table. He looked entirely too amused, like he was moments away from bursting into laughter. You glared at him, silently begging him to take this seriously.

He raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching upward as if to say, I’m trying.

Thankfully, the Empress had come along for damage control. She sat at the head of the table, calm and unflappable, effortlessly steering the conversation back on track whenever your prince derailed it with comments like, “So, how do you guys feel about dragons?”

When the opposing kingdom’s crown princess suggested an ambassador exchange as part of the peace treaty, the Empress visibly perked up.

“That’s an excellent idea,” she said smoothly. “In fact, we have the perfect candidate.”

You felt a sliver of hope. Maybe she’d suggest Riddle—he was intelligent, responsible, and would undoubtedly represent your kingdom well. Or Trey, whose calm demeanor and charm could win over anyone. Or—dare you dream—maybe even you, since you were clearly the only one in this circus who had a shred of common sense. And the two of you could move away from this hellhole.

“We’ll send the saintess,” the Empress announced, her voice dripping with what could only be described as malicious glee.

You blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

The crown princess on the other side of the table looked mildly alarmed. “Um,” she began, clearly searching for a polite way to decline.

“She’ll be an excellent cultural ambassador,” the Empress continued, her smile widening. “She’s... unforgettable.”

Riddle’s eye twitched, but he said nothing. Trey looked down at the table, probably to hide his grin.

The saintess, oblivious to the underlying implications, squealed in delight. “Oh my gosh, finally! I’ve always wanted to travel!”

The opposing kingdom reluctantly agreed—probably under the assumption that taking her would somehow count as reparations.

When you all finally returned home, the atmosphere was noticeably lighter, as though a glittery, rhinestone-encrusted weight had been lifted off your collective shoulders.

Trey leaned over in the carriage, his voice low and amused. “Well, I’d call that a success.”

“Success?” you laughed. “We basically tricked another kingdom into taking her off our hands.”

Trey’s smile was soft as he reached for your hand. “And we averted a war in the process.”

You sighed, but your heart skipped a beat when his thumb brushed against your knuckles. Maybe you could live with this version of “success.”

Without the saintess egging him on, the prince had downgraded from menace to society to mildly annoying NPC. He still popped up every now and then, offering unsolicited advice on topics he clearly didn’t understand, but Riddle—bless his overworked soul—had finally had enough. As royal advisor, he slapped the prince with permanent probation, effectively keeping him confined to paperwork and far, far away from you and Trey.

Life, for once, was peaceful.

So peaceful, in fact, that you and Trey found yourselves back at that restaurant—the same one that had become the backdrop for two very traumatic encounters. It felt like tempting fate, but Trey, ever the optimist, assured you that lightning wouldn’t strike thrice.

And for once, he was right.

The food was good, the atmosphere was cozy, and not a single insufferable royal barged in to ruin the evening. You both laughed, reminisced, and indulged in desserts that Trey—being the baking connoisseur he was—had plenty of opinions about.

By the time you left the restaurant, the streets were quiet, bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. The air was crisp but not cold, and everything felt oddly serene, like the universe was apologizing for all the nonsense it had previously thrown your way.

As you walked side by side, Trey suddenly stopped.

You turned to face him, confused. “What’s wrong?”

He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he knelt down on one knee, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket.

Your brain short-circuited.

“Trey—”

“Before you say anything,” he began, his voice steady but tinged with emotion, “I just want you to know that despite how things started between us... I’ve never regretted a single moment with you.” He looked up at you, his green eyes warm and sincere. “You’ve made me happier than I ever thought I could be, and if you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life making you just as happy.”

He opened the box, revealing a ring—simple, elegant, and undeniably perfect. “So... will you marry me? Again?”

You stared at him, your chest tight with emotions you couldn’t even begin to untangle. And then you laughed—because how else were you supposed to process the sheer ridiculousness of everything that had led to this moment?

“Yes,” you said, your voice trembling with joy. “Of course, yes.”

He stood, sliding the ring onto your finger with a smile that could have melted glaciers.

And then he kissed you—soft, slow, and so full of love that it felt like the world around you ceased to exist.

Somewhere in the distance, you thought you heard a cat knock over a trash can, but nothing could ruin this moment.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[dont-look-its-embarrassing]

To Be Seen

Azriel x Reader

This is my first ever one-shot or fanfiction type writing on here, so be patient with me bc it will be FAR from perfect or good.

This is purely self-indulgent bc again, I'm new at this and just wanted to write an insert or y/n type little blurb.

Summary; Being the best friend of Feyre when she was human, you regretfully got roped in and turned with her sisters as a tool for manipulation by Hybern. As the sister's find it hard to settle in claiming the attention of the two other bats, you attempt to make Feyre's and the inner court's life easier by flying under the radar and figuring it out on your own. However, are you really as unnoticed as you hope or is a certain shadowsinger entrapped by your caring and soft nature as his heart battles his mind for the third sister or you.

Warnings: None really, mentions of PTSD and anxiety, loneliness and self-help, slow-burn, slight angst with a fluffy ending, reader just wants to be seen but feels like she can't ask

Word count: 2,389

Pt2

The sound of a door opening broke you out of your thoughts as you sat in the drawing room in the house of wind. The gentle crackle of the fire Infront of you allowed your body to sit comfortably within the rather cold season and the book you were just reading sat loose in your lap. You haven't gotten used to your enhanced hearing yet as your now longer and thicker hair gently fell from where you had tucked it behind your ear.

"Y/n?" Your best friend's voice echoed into the room as her footsteps followed. A soft smile spread across your features as she came in, confirmed you where there, and plopped down ungraciously on the couch next to you. "Thank the mother you are here."

Her features where stressed, the worry written all over her face as she took your form in.

"What's going on?" You ask, hopeful to help.

Feyre let out a sigh as she let her eyes wonder to the fire Infront of the both of you.

"Nothing. Everything. I don't know, it seems that everything I do to try and help Nesta and Elaine seems to only make things worse." She rung her hands, a trait she picked up back in the human lands when she was nervous or upset. "It just never seems enough to make them comfortable or to try and apologize for everything that happened."

Your best friend's eyes slightly widened as she took her gaze from the flames.

"How are you? Are you doing okay?" The genuine care and concern oozing off of the female Infront of you reminded you of why you cared so much about your friend in the first place. When she was taken, you had searched high and low for her in hopes to get her back only to have her return happy and healthy with a loving man, or male, doting on her every need. You were ecstatic, and expressed yourself as so, even if it was with fae beings. When you and her sisters were taken, that happiness was put on hold to make sure that you are all where comfortable. Feyre's self-sacrificing nature did always drive you mad, even now when she was so close to being truly happy.

"I'm okay Feyre." She shot you a look, trying to dig deeper and call the bluff you made. "Seriously, I'm here with you and in an amazing place that I could only dream of with great people."

"A lot happened Y/n. A lot happened to Elaine and Nesta, but a lot happened to you." She was right, and it was weird for you to be so put together when the worlds of the other two were falling to pieces. With your more emotional and strong relationship with Feyre, you had been held captive with her sisters yes, but you also took the brunt of interrogation that the wicked king deemed necessary to gain any information of her court. You had put yourself in that position, you knew how awful she would feel about her familial blood being brutalized in such a way, so you took the heat. But, in the end, her sisters still took the change harder and refused to accept their new life, making everyone on edge and overexerting themselves to help.

With one look at your best friend's-tired eyes, you knew that she couldn't handle another burden. More like she shouldn't have to handle another burden.

The word tasted sour on your tongue.

Burden.

Shaking your head a small gentle smile graced your face, and you forced your features to emulate that same energy.

"I'm okay Feyre, really. Aside from some cool new power thing that I haven't figured out, I'm fine. " The breath she released could only register as relief in your mind as she met your smile.

"Okay, and we will definitely start working on that when we are all settled here." Her reassurance did little to reassure that it would be investigated. Again, with the two sisters gaining war altering abilities, your random energy (that had yet to manifest) would be put on the back burner until everyone else was settled. Again, the slight dismissal ached, but you understood the need for others to take precedence.

Giving a little nod, you two sit in silence for a bit just listening to the crackling of the fire and enjoying each other's presence. That is, until a wince rippled across your friends face and she slowly rose.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I think Elaine is out and not talking to Lucien and it's a mess-"

"It's fine Feyre, go make sure they are okay." You assure with the same smile. Giving one last 'thank you, I love you' she was gone like the wind that howled outside the windows. The silence that followed her exit had the ringing in your ears become a bit to unbearable. Removing yourself from the couch, you travel down to your room and grab a quick change of footwear.

Today would be a good day to explore the town, or at least good enough to get your mind out of the dark slump of trying to acclimate to its' new body and abilities.

Making your way towards the door, a small flicker of shadow catches your eye.

"Hello?" You call. You know that Rhys is most likely with Feyre and Azriel is also probably there because of Elaine, so you dismiss it quickly after a moment, chalking it up to just a trick of the light.

Opening the door, the slight chill on the wind has a shiver run through you, but the sun quickly chased it away. Breathing a sigh, you look at the vastness of the stairs below you.

No time like the present.

Taking one step at a time and avid breaks when needed, you would rather not admit to yourself just how much time that trek took. However, upon reaching the bottom, the satisfaction that filled you outweighed the journey. Walking down the streets of Velaris, the bustling normality of the people filled you with ease. As your heels clicked against the stones below, your gaze just missed the little shadow that trailed behind your body.

Taking in the colors and vibrant people, the ease and happiness that covered their faces had the ache in your gut grow more and more. Your mind wandered to if you would ever be that happy and mundane. With everything that had happened so far, the familiar life in the human forest (although had its struggles) seemed like an ideal. It was the lack of routine, lack of knowledge, the newly sprouted life, the misplacement, all of it plus more. You didn't notice your breathing gain more weight and take longer to fill your lungs than it did at the house. You also didn't notice the little skitter of the shadow that had followed you as it raced away towards some unseen location. The heat in your body seemed to increase as the sight of a simple family loving and walking together entered your mind.

Would anyone love you like this?

You couldn't think.

Ducking into a nearby ally, the overhead sheets and covering allowed it to be shaded and darker than the streets 20 feet away. Even then, the darkness of the ally seemed to illuminate with your presence there. However, it wasn't the light, it was the lack of grasp of oxygen you could inhale and the strenuous shaking your body couldn't stop. The tears that fell without your knowledge burned their tracks into your skin and sizzled as they hit the ground. Your body gave way to the spasms that took ahold of you as your mind raced. Burring your head into your knees, you attempted to shut the world out and let your mind slow but to no avail. You wished the darkness of the alley would swallow you whole, allow the sun and light to escape you being seen just this once.

Almost as if your prayers where in fact answered, the light surrounding you died as the darkness of the ally surrounded you. Picking your head up to view what cloud or magical being answered your plea, your eyes were met with those of hazel crouching Infront of you.

"Azriel?" You hadn't met this male for more than a couple days ago. He was nice, offering to go with you places or chat every so often. You had a couple nightly talks with him where you shared some stories between the two of you. Nothing out of the ordinary though, you felt safe around him when he was near. Confusion washed your features and for a moment your brain stopped running in circles and focused on why the male might be in front of you in this very unfortunate situation.

"You're okay." His large hands had gently pried your head from between your own. He Slowly, as if not to spook you further, reached for your hands and took them in his own. As twisted as it sounded, the morbid scarring that littered his skin grounded you further and pulled you back to this moment and out of that forsaken cell and cold water. "Focus on me, breathe."

The ease of your breath returned as the seeming dark cloud that surrounded you peeled back revealing that same dampened alleyway. However, the slight char on the walls and burns on the ground was distinct enough to question. Looking around, more of those marks surrounded you but faded as it got further from you. Opening your mouth to ask, a quick look from the male had you hesitant as he shook his head.

"One thing at a time sunshine." You nod, ignoring the small butterfly that hatched in your stomach at the nickname, but the pain in your head from the little outburst brought you back to reality. Bringing your hand up to caress the muscle between your eyes, Azriel scanned you from head to toe checking for any other possible injuries. "Let's get you back to the house, okay? Have Madja take a look at you and maybe give you something to help process."

Although the beginning of his statement was directed at you, for an answer, the second part was mumbled more to himself.

"Okay." The short response was all you could get past your lips as he sent you a small smile and opened his arms.

Looking at him questionably, he held back a chuckle.

"Have you never flown?" Shaking your head, no, you had never flown before. Winnowed? Yes, but never in the arms of one of the three males residing in the same house at you. The aspect of Azriel being your first had a little flush cover your cheeks. He approached you carefully, scanning your eyes for any aversion to being touched or space invaded. If you didn't just have a literally breakdown in the middle of Velaris, you could've sworn there was a deeper emotion residing in his eyes.

Guilt?

Worry?

Longing?

You couldn't place it and decided not to keep the process waiting. Taking a step towards him, he kept his arms spread out to accompany your space against his.

"Wrap your arms around me." His voice was lowered with your closer proximity. Slowly you brought your arms to wrap around the back of his neck. He waited until you settled there before moving to hoist you up into his arms and walk slightly out of the alley to give his wings more room to take flight.

While doing so, you couldn't help but settle into his warmth as it felt nice against our colder frame. With all the adrenaline wearing off, you were left shivering.

"Make sure to hold on." He noted, which was all the notice you got before suddenly you two were no longer on the ground. Tightening your grip instinctually, you shut your eyes as you could practically feel the male smile at your nature.

"How did you get down there anyway?" With the loud wind it was hard to hear, but again due to the lack of space between the two of you his voice rang clear.

"I walked."

"Down those?" Without realizing the easygoing atmosphere he created, you had peered open your eyes to look down at the stairs you both were currently soaring over. Only a brief look however as you still had some human tendencies and did have a slight aversion to heights.

"Yeah." You nodded and went to shut your eyes once more to finish out the flight, but as you did you caught sight of a new look on the spymaster's face.

Pride.

Landing as softly as possible, Madja was already there waiting for the two of you to arrive. Without thinking, you blamed it on the spymaster's shadows (but grateful they were there). Feyre also stood to the side of her, worry wringing her hands again and you let out a sigh of defeat.

Stumbling out of Azriel's arms, he steadied you, giving a once over before his high lady had shot him an inquiring look. She looked at you shortly after.

"You are never to lie to me again Y/n, you hear?" Her chastising voice was filled with love and worry all the same.

But before you could open your mouth to respond with a thousand reasons why you might, a certain male beat you too it.

"Don't go too hard on her, admittedly we have all been a bit busy to check in." You both glanced back at the male in question as his shadows wrapped around him in song. He has said it was so to promise his attention to fix the problem, which warmed your core.

"She will be okay Feyre." Meeting eye contact with him, he had sent you a small nod of his head and smile before disappearing into the dark.

Your best friend looked at you in question, but a deeper thought was spinning in her head. However, the little throat clear of the healer nearby jumpstarted the next 24 hours of care and therapy from your best friend and the best healers in Prythian. The whole endeavor couldn't tear your thoughts to a certain inner court male and the way his arms felt around you.

Maybe you would be okay.

[vampzity]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ ꒰ 14 DAYS OF KINKS ꒱ ˚₊‧✩ ੈ‧

[ DISCLAIMER: ] MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!! All content under this event/masterlist is STRICTLY NSFW! Minors will be blocked!!! All stories are written with a fem character!

This is simply a timeline of events! Days can be subject to change :) You will find OT8 ateez & some stray kids members! I’m still working on writing skz so that is why all the members aren’t here yet I’m vv sorry :’D

⭐️: author’s favorite

🍓: fan favorite

[ DAY 1 ━━ VIBRATORS WITH WOOYOUNG ] <1.1k>

Watching a movie with your boyfriend sounds a normal task right? Not when your new toy comes into play. Every time you lose focus of the movie, he’ll stop, but when you pay attention the speed only intensifies.

[ DAY 2 ━━ VOYUERISM WITH HAN ] <2.1k> ⭐️🍓

han comes home and hears sounds coming from your room, only to sneak a peek of you touching yourself. so, he watches from the door, trying not to get caught as he gets himself off.

[ DAY 3 ━━ DACRYPHILIA WITH BANGCHAN ] <1.7k> ⭐️🍓

after teasing him through the entire dinner, chan decides to show you what whining really gets you. now you have no choice but to whine at his mercy.

[ DAY 4 ━━ BLINDFOLDS WITH YEOSANG ] <1.6k> ⭐️

you and yeosang decide to spice your sex life up with the tease of a blindfold. you’re touching him, kissing him all over until he’s practically begging for you to let him burst.

[ DAY 5 ━━ FACE RIDING WITH FELIX ] <1.4k> 🍓

felix is so desperate to feel and taste you, to the point where he’s begging you to suffocate him once he when he sees you in that dress. all he wants is to make you feel pretty once before you go.

[ DAY 6 ━━ PILLOW HUMPING WITH YUNHO ] <1.6k> ⭐️🍓

getting your boyfriend’s attention is hard when he’s so busy with his game. you can’t bare to wait any longer, so you resort to humping a pillow in hopes of getting his attention. only now, he’s watching you while you sit there in embarrassment.

[ DAY 7 ━━ SPANKING WITH JONGHO ] <1.8k>

jongho comes home and catches you trying to get off after a week of him being away on a business trip. look at you, so desperate and needy. you couldn’t wait for him to come relieve you? now you sit there, struggling not to make a sound. every time you do, the smacks get harder.

[ DAY 8 ━━ MARKING WITH JEONGIN ] <2k> ⭐️

Jeongin can’t seem to take his eyes off of your body. the way it walked through the halls of your shared apartment, the way you looked so frail in his clothing, even how his arms wrapped around your body. he wanted to eat you and tear you apart. make sure you knew that you belonged to him.

[ DAY 9 ━━ BONDAGE WITH CHANGBIN ] <1.5k>

a little bondage never hurt anyone right? how arousing it must be to have your hands tied behind your back while being fucked like he hasn’t seen you in weeks. oh right, he hasn’t!

[ DAY 10 ━━ COCK WARMING WITH SAN ] <1.9k> ⭐️🍓

while stuck in a winterstorm you decide to keep yourself busy by doing your makeup. of course the two of you make sure to keep the heat on, but san can’t help but want more of your sweet warmth.

[ DAY 11 ━━ SOMNOPHILIA WITH SEONGHWA ] <1.8k> ⭐️🍓

you wake up, restless and needy but still want your pretty boyfriend to get his rest. it won’t hurt to ride him softly while he sleeps right? as long as you stay quiet?

[ DAY 12 ━━ PHONE SEX WITH BANGCHAN ] <1.4k> 🍓

after a long day of work bangchan just wants to relax, but all he can think about is you. he tries to get off only to get a call from you and your complaints about the day you had. your voice turns him on, makes him greedy for you more than before. it’s such a rush getting off to the person who hasn’t got a slightest clue.

[ DAY 13 ━━ BREEDING KINK WITH MINGI ] <1.5k> 🍓

after a long day of baby sitting your niece, mingi can’t help but think what it would be like to see you with a child of his own. to have a mini him running around bothering you… to have you filled with him to the point where it spills out of you.

[ DAY 14 ━━ NUDES WITH HONGJOONG ] <1.3k> ⭐️

your boredom only worsens while hongjoong is working in the studio, leading you to tease him with spicy “i miss you” photos. who knew how needy your boyfriend could be for you that he’d get off right there in his own workplace.

★ BONUS DAYS ★

i’ve decided to collect some spicy twt links for you all hehe 🤭 if you’re comfortable with nsfw links then click away! if not, then that’s ok! this is simply a thank you to everyone who has supported this lovely event and my acc overall! <33

[ DAY 15 ━━ NSFW LINKS: ATZ HYUNG LINE ]

members: seonghwa, hongjoong, yunho, & yeosang

[ DAY 16 ━━ NSFW LINKS: ATZ MAKNAE LINE ]

members: san, mingi, wooyoung & jongho

[ DAY 17 ━━ NSFW LINKS: SKZ HYUNG LINE ]

members: bangchan, lee know, changbin, & hyunjin

[ DAY 18 ━━ NSFW LINKS: SKZ MAKNAE LINE ]

members: han, felix, seungmin & jeongin

taglist: @dvrktvnnel @h4untedgrl @rvereri @scarfac3 @jjongibears @kittykat-25 @yyaurii @hwasddeongbyeoli @tiredlittlevirgo @joonezra @honeyhwaaa @evidive @potentialgay @dollywoo @losrpark @motherseonghwa23 @inniesfanblog @stephanieeeyang @galaxy4489 @nickgurl4life @fangirljas929 @desirehorizon @channiesluvrclub @katsukis1wife @unbel1ve4ble @sojuxxi @felixleftchickennugget

skz only: @bluesungology

atz only: @nopension @bbdeongi

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[alilobsessive]

The Terrible Crow

All your life you desired recognition from your father, well you got it! But not from your bio dad, things only grow worse from there. For the Bats, not for you.

All your life you have longed for one thing, you’re Father’s recognition. At first it was simple things, like getting good grades, school awards. Anything for him to tell you how good of a job you’re doing. When he brought in Dick that changed, the escalation was quick. If he could be Robin, if he could fight with your Father why couldn’t you? Eventually after years of begging he agreed, then not even a week later he took in Jason and he became the new Robin. Your Father told you it was because he was older then you, already making it safer for him to go then you. When you brought up the fact that you’re the same age as Dick when he started, your father countered that Dick already had years more training with his parents than you.

After that you reluctantly didn’t argue, scared of seeming like nothing more than a spoiled kid. Jason in you began training together, although the two of you grew a bond it never felt right. Everyone called you close and although you liked him a part of you was resentful. You’re Father was always tougher on your training then Dick or Jason, always finding a flaw no matter how long you practice. In a way it helped you perfect your skills to the last detail. But he never told you “good job” not like Dick or Jason, it was always moving right on to the next thing. After Jason’s death the training got worse, he was somehow harder and stricter than before. You went to bed sore with aching bones and bruises from training, if you went to bed at all that is. Sometimes your sleep schedule was what was being trained, he would make you stay up for days at I time, rarely doing anything more than a nap. He told you this was similar to the training he went through, that it would make you stronger.

You never got the chance to prove it though, not even a half a year since Jason died a new boy was brought in. Tim’s the same age as you, highly intelligent and good at stealth but completely untrained. “SO WHY IS HE ROBIN!” You screeched at the man you call Father, Tim stands there glaring at you. He has a red mark on his cheek from where you slapped him when you were told he would be Robin. You were instantly yelled at and reprimanded by your Father for this, which started this argument in the first place. “I HAVE TRAINED FOR MOST OF MY LIFE FOR THIS, I HAVE DONE ALMOST EVERYTHING YOU WANTED ME TO! I FOLLOWED YOUR ORDERS I DEDICATED MY LIFE TO THIS” You scream at him, tears filling your eyes and falling down your cheeks. He just stares at you, expression blank and unchanging “what made you think I’d ever make you Robin?” Is all he says. Freezing you just stare at him crushed. “You’re dismissed” you feel like he spits it out, he doesn’t but it feels like he does “don’t ever train here again, nor even think about being a vigilante” you’ve never felt so much rage and sorrow before. You turn around to leave pushing Tim to the ground as you do “you’re grounded!” He calls out. Without even looking back you flip him off “fuck you Bruce!”.

After that things were never the same, you never wanted to try at anything anymore. What was the point in constantly studying if it meant nothing? So you did whatever you wanted, there were barely any consequences. Bruce didn’t give a shit about you, he never truly did. Alfred always sided with Bruce, sure he called him out when he was in the wrong, but that rarely changed anything with you. Dick was as absent in your life as ever. Finally you and Tim’s relationship was shit, it would never recover, at least you didn’t care if it did or not.

Eventually though you stumbled across a niche that peaked your interest. It started small, quick one minute videos about animal biology you finished the nearly 10 year old channel's entire library of content in 2 days. Then it evolved into animal psychology and finally to humans, what made them tick. It was fascinating every last detail interested you, from the mating habits of raccoons to the study that showed most humans could pick out snakes in extremely pixelated and blurry images. Even the more questionable experiments that would never pass today, like the wire and cloth mothers, and the monster study. Things that would have been difficult to prove or research if it wasn’t for the unethicalness of it all. Hell, even the bullshit study with gorillas learning sign language was interesting, even if the whole thing was completely pointless and awfully mismanaged. It was just so interesting to learn about.

Then you stumbled across it, a familiar name, Jonathan Crane, the Scarecrow. All his published studies were almost 2 decades old, but that didn’t stop how interesting they were. Both as a glimpse into the mind of a madman who long had his license revoked and as a study in how the mind understood fear in general. Sure you were made to memorize his habits, his usual schemes, hell you even helped reverse engineer and make a cure for several of his fear toxin strands. But you never learned about his studies, never learned about the person behind the mask. But now you wanted to, desperately, of course you couldn’t just go to Arkham. Bruce would learn about it and who knows what he would do once he learns of your little…. curiosity.

No, you didn’t want that, so you lied in wait for the perfect time. But while you did so you studied, falling back into old habits. Day and night you obsessively researched human psychology, several studies both bullshit and true. You memorized everything, dates, names, places, what effects they had, any changes or new revelations in the study, what they were studying and in some cases what they ended up actually studying. You even ended up dabbing deeper into chemistry. All of this to impress someone, but you enjoyed learning these things. All of this was fun, unlike dealing with Bruce.

Then finally the day came, Scarecrow broke out of Arkham. Using the skills Bruce ground into your brain you found him. It was pretty easy, you're shocked he didn’t find Scarecrow sooner. Of course you ended up captured, tied to a chair in one of his labs. Oh also a gun pointed at your head, neat! “What are you doing here?” Scarecrow says suspiciously, a wide grin forms on your face as you happily say “I want you to teach me!” The man just looked at you strangely. Then he laughed, “this isn’t a very funny joke kid” the man sneered at you. “But I’m not! I’ve read your work Mr. Crane! It’s absolutely fascinating! I want to learn more, especially about your newer unpublished stuff!” He just stares at you, “really?” He asks, pointing the gun down. Although he doesn’t look like he believes you, “then prove it” before you can even react the gun is back at your head and he shoots.

The bullet barely misses but you don’t move, don’t even flinch, you just smile. You know how manic you look, but you don’t care. Scarecrow just stares at you surprised, he completely lowered the gun and put it away. “Well..” he mumbles, “I guess I can give you a test” that made you feel nothing but pure glee.

The costume you were put in started out simple, a almost completely black suit with blue gloves and a mask vaguely resembling a plague doctor. You thought you looked like a rip off emperor's coven member but that’s not that important. As Crow as his apprentice you were first given grunt work, helping and leading his henchman in getting supplies for whatever project he was working on. That was when you weren’t doing homework, taking notes, organizing documents. The Bat’s were completely unaware of what you were doing, sure they knew you had something after school. The one time they asked you told them you got an internship. They didn’t even bother to verify if that was true or not. Alfred was the only one who even slightly cared and even then he was just proud that you finally found a calling away from the vigilante life. Boy was he only slightly correct.

Things started ramping up after you defeated Tim, Robin in combat. The pure smug joy you felt at that moment is indescribable. The rejected Robin, who's rusty, proving that they're stronger, faster, smarter, better than the current? You were so excited you almost went into hysterics, and the fear on his face as you brutally kicked his ass? Priceless! They didn’t even realize it was you, but Scarecrow did, he recognized how similar your fighting style are instantly. At first you were worried, scared even about what he’d do now that he knew. Truthfully he was suspicious at first, but once you told him your story, how you were rejected from being Robin in favor of the second and third. How cruel they were to you before and after, even said you would tell him the secret identities of the bat’s and everyone you know is affiliated with them. Both publicly and privately, although he rejected your offer he saw your desperation. How much you want, no needed to stay, to keep this. Scarecrow accepted your loyalty and at that moment you truly became Crow.

To commemorate this occasion you got an outfit change. It became more padded, the mask looking more like a helmet then anything, and boots that increase your height by several inches. You were also made to train in a different combat style with both the added height and change of vision it was a necessity. But also to help cover your tracks as Crow from the Bat’s. So you grow, you changed, you trained and trained and they never noticed. Not when you came back injured from work, with new bruises and scars. Not when you came home with gifts, or when you brought your assignments back with you. They were completely ignorant as Scarecrow, Jonathan Crane, he became your family, your father.

Eventually though Bruce got suspicious, he never figured out who you were, not until much later. But he realized you're doing something shady, the man never put in the effort to figure out what exactly. So he sent you off to a college far from the city, of course he let you pick the field you wanted. It wasn’t too hard to figure out what to do, psychology was already your passion after all and you were being trained by the best. The only issue was Crow, how to excuse there absence. So faking an extreme injury a week before you left easily fixed that. Afterwards you packed up and went to school, a school you would never return from, not to the manor at least.

There you continued your studies, your training in all forms and your contacts with Scarecrow. The only real difficult thing was not getting caught in your less ethical studies. You spent from the age of 18 to 24 studying as much as possible in your field getting both a bachelor’s and master’s. The plan was to go for a PHD too, but sadly things were interrupted and you quickly returned home. Your dad, Scarecrow was extremely injured during a fight and was in the hospital. Someone needed to step up, that person was you.

This time your outfit changed once more, it made you look even bigger and bulkier then you were. A cloak with a feathered collar, iron gloves with clawed ends, the faceless bird helmet looking even more imposing. Everything in your power to make you look as menacing as possible, large and imposing, a night to rival the knight. As you were making your return known you discovered something interesting, a new Robin, a baby brother. Dispute your issue with your family something about this was exciting. You felt so happy and you didn’t know why, but the fact he’s a Robin? Well, the kid needed to be taught a very important lesson before he learned it the hard way.

It wasn’t hard leading him to Wayne tower by himself. Kid had the skills but no discipline, reckless and willing to do anything to prove himself worthy. You can relate, which is way it has to be you who dose this. You approach the 10 year old boy from the shadows “you came alone hatchling?” You say in a soft voice. He jumps away and wipes his head around to face you eyes wide, he pulls out his sword and points it at you. “How-“ “a magician never reveals there secrets” you say playfully “now put the sword down baby bird” he doesn’t just glares at you. He then lunges forward aiming for your throat, but it wasn’t hard to grab the blade and rip it from his hand. He stares at you wide eyed as you throw it to the other side of the building, he quickly reorganize himself and throw a punch. But you dodge it, each kick and punch he sent was easily avoided.

As he moved to kick your head you grabbed his leg, and pulled him away. “You know” you begin walking to the edge tone not changing, “in nature Crows and Robins have an interest relationship. Crows are an omnivorous creature, they don’t just eat seeds and nuts like some people will have you believe. They’ve even been reported to peck out the eyes and tongues of lambs. Robins are no exception,” you hold him over the edge and watch as his eyes widen. He squirms and yells, “Crows will actually protect the nests of Robins, for a fee of course.” Batman should appear any minute now. “There young, they take and feast on the eggs and hatchlings. They basically farm them, it’s fascinating really. Crows are one of the smartest birds, about as intelligent as a 7 year old human. We’re watching the first signs of the evolution of a society!” You say almost giddy, “little mafias! It’s adorable and fascinating!” “We’re are you going with this” you just stare down at him, your mask making it nothing more then a dark void. You can practically feel his presence close to you, “it’s simple really! I’ve never been payed my dues! And you’re just a hatchling that doesn’t know better” and you drop him.

Batman catches him of course, but by the time he does and gets back up the tower you’re already long gone.

——————

Sorry if it takes a while for me to post things! I haven’t been feeling great both physically and mentally lately.

[mortalityplays]

You need more free art.

I quit my job yesterday. Well, actually I quit my job eight weeks ago, but they finally released me yesterday for good behaviour. Don't get me wrong, I love what I do - but I do it for the wrong reasons. Working for major charities, you learn very fast that 'I want to make the world a better place' is a phrase you use to ask people for money, not to give them things. I was an ass-backwards fit for that world.

You need more free art. I need more free art. Everyone has felt the shift in our media landscape over the last ten years, away from access and towards nickel-and-diming the human experience. That lack of access is making life and culture worse for all of us, across the board. Paywalled news sites leave us less informed, attacks on the Internet Archive leave us less capable of research. Algorithmic social feeds and streaming walled gardens trap us inside smaller and smaller demographic bubbles, where we are increasingly only likely to encounter ideas that have been curated for us by marketing departments. Hasty efforts to resist AI commodification have only led to more artists locking their work away and calling for even more onerous systems of copyright law. This is not good for us.

We all need more free art.

So what am I going to do about it?

This is a question I have been asking myself for years. It's easy to sit here feeilng frustrated and thinking 'boy I hope SOMEONE does SOMETHING'. It's harder to take action in a world where I still have rent to pay. But hard doesn't mean impossible. Sometimes hard just means time-consuming, frustrating and slow. And sometimes it's worth doing something time-consuming, frustrating and slow because...I want to make the world a better place.

I'm going to do this:

1. From April 1st, I am relaunching as a freelance writer and editor.

This is the one that will (hopefully) help to pay the bills. I am a very good and experienced editor. I've worked on hollywood movies, I'm a member of the Chartered Institute of Editors and Proofreaders, I have clients who have been coming to me exclusively for more than 10 years.

Alongside bigger contract jobs, I am going to refocus on offering my services to small-press creators at a reduced rate. That means you, graphic novelists. That means you, itch and amazon writers. I want to help you develop your work, the same way I help large organisations. You can learn more about what an editor even does and what kind of pricing you can expect here.

2. I'm also going to start giving shit away. Like, constantly.

Next week I'm going to launch a new free shop. If you're unfamiliar, a free shop, giveaway shop, swap shop, etc. is an anarchist tradition of setting up a storefront where anyone can take what they like for no cost. Offline, this often means second-hand clothes, tools, furniture, food etc. Online, I am going to be giving away digital art. Copyright-free, no strings attached. It will (eventually) feature everything from print-res posters to zines, poems, tattoo flash, t-shirt designs and anything else we come up with.

Yes, I said 'we' - while this is a curated collection, it will feature work from a variety of credited and anonymous artists and activists, all of whom have agreed to give their work away to the public domain. Some of it will be practical, some of it will be political, but a lot of it will be decorative or personal. This is, in part, a response to recent difficulty I had finding somewhere that would print a one-off joke poster for a friend that featured the word 'faggot'. Enough. No middlemen - no explaining ourselves. Just print our shit and enjoy it.

I'm very, very excited about this project. I'll have more to say about it closer to the launch, but you can expect it to go live on March 27th.

2.2 I forgot to mention the ACTUAL LAUNCH GIVEAWAY

To celebrate my launch, I am going to be giving away a ton of physical prints. When I went looking for my old stock to see if it was worth setting a new (paid) storefront up, I realised I had way more old work in storage than I thought. This will be announced in its own right on Monday, but this is why I've been hinting you should go follow my Patreon.

On April 1st, I will pick 8 random patrons (from across all tiers including non-paying followers!) and mail them a bundle of assorted prints and postcards. The prize pool includes A3 and A4 posters, packs of A6 postcards, and printed minicomics that I've previously sold for up to £12 each.

You don't have to be a paying subscriber to enter - this is strictly no-purchase necessary. It is purely and entirely a celebration of the concept of GIVING ART AWAY FOR FREE.

3. PORN, YOU PERVERTS

Because I still have to pay to stay alive, I am going to be subsidising all this free art with the introduction of Fuck You Fridays. Starting from March 29th, I will drop a new 18+ short story on the last Friday of every month, over on itch.io (yes I know my page is desolate right now, don't worry I'll get there).

The first edition, Go Fuck Yourself, is about, well - telling your boss where to stick it. Julia has had it with her millionaire man-child manager, and is just about ready to let him know what she really thinks. It's a short and steamy 5k words, with a gorgeous cover illustration by @taylor-titmouse, and you can pick it up for $3 starting from March 29th.

4. ANOTHER BIG SURPRISE

I'm keeping this one under wraps for now, but April 1st will also play host to one more (FREE) launch. If you've been following me for a long time, you might remember the other significance of this date (no not April Fool's day, though that is certainly thematically relevant to this entire effort). That's all I'll say right now. Watch this space.

tl;dr: I'm sick of paywalls and career ladders. I'm literally putting my money where my mouth is. More free art for everyone and I'm not kidding around!!!

[vifilms]

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY

feat. contractor!abby x exgf!reader

content warning. eighteen+, smut, angst, some fluff sprinkled in, devastating dykes, nickname for reader (cherry), jealousy, long lost love trope, hazel (spoiler alert, she’s a cunt), just an emotional ass fic.

THE SUNSHINE ON MY SHOULDERS STICKING LIKE HONEY, she was the healing in a world that struck so much pain, a life you would like to forget, but can you truly forget just how much you loved her?

rayray sesh. been working on this baby for over a month and i’m very happy to post it on time! happy birthday, pookie — @sinstear ♡ this is my special crafted gift i wrote just for you on a day to celebrate just how amazing you are. erenboo, you deserve all the love in the world. i hope you enjoy this as much as i took joy in writing it for you. my love, sweat, tears, and cum are laced in it. special delivery. i love you so much, bub. always and forever.

✶ special shoutout to @hypnagogics aka my co-yap captain. thank you for proofreading my bigger projects. you are a godsend. my nonsensical typos would surely make it if it wasn’t for you. mwahmwah! you’re the sweetest, ily ♡

✶ header heavily inspired by the lovely @hcneymooners

word count, 14k.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞: 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 ❞

The more you try to hide from it, the harder it’ll be when you face it — at least those are the words Abby had heard from her old man for as long as she could remember. Suddenly, nearly thirty-years later, they reverberated in her mind like a ring of a bell. A vibrating reminder of how her life remained the same, your love having limitations, requirements she never could have been aware of at the ripe age of eighteen. 

All she needed was more time, more understanding, and a patient heart that was never reciprocated. On a day like today, she’s reminded of 

In Jacksonville, there wasn’t much going on, and talk travels faster than the speed of lightning. Murmurs of your return started the moment Dina found out, then it spread like wildfire. All of it feels just like yesterday but the spring of her youth is a far cry away, just dust and bones to be found on the ashes of adolescence.  

If the world was perfect, Abby could avoid all of this. 

Maybe if her life had turned out the way she envisioned. 

But it didn’t and neither did yours. Not as of late. Although Abby had to be tightlipped about it, business and pleasure entangled, all of that nonsense floating around her pretty head. A voice she once thought she had forgotten comes back with a violent need to be recognized, a calming notion before it punches her in the gut. 

Not to mention, she just had to be on your father’s payroll, had to face the person she was never good enough for. All of it feels nauseating. Excruciating. 

Reminder of a wound she’s never recovered from. Memories high and low come flooding, and with you in her line of vision, it only gets worse. 

Way fucking worse. 

“What is she doing back?” 

“As if anyone would want her here.” 

“Abby, was she even supposed to be here?” 

The questions pile along with the bile collecting in the back of Abby’s throat. The pit in her stomach manifests a black hole, feeling herself succumb to the spin of everyone’s empty threats spilling from her friends to you. Abby can tell just by the way you’re downing the glass of champagne and picking up the next, coming here wasn’t your choice.

If you could have helped it, you would have never come back in such a public setting.  

“Abby, are you listening?” She sighs, but still unable to take her eyes off you. 

“Do I need to rea—” 

“Yeah yeah, all of you hate them. I get it.” 

“It’s not that simple. They aren’t good for you.”

There’d been murmurs through the small town of your return. That’s what happens when your mom gets sick, you come home and that you did. The anniversary of your parents, forty years strong, is the first public appearance. The absence of your brother’s appearance isn’t talked about, it’s brushed over, just like everything else, just like you. 

“Yep, I got it.” 

“I’m just looking out for you. They don’t appreciate you and—” Abby shoots her a knowing glare, annoyed with the intrusion of everyone thinking they knew best instead of herself. 

“Yeah, like I said, I hear you, but you don’t fucking know her. Neither do I, certainly not anymore.” 

Running a hand through her blonde-glistening locks, the sunset saturates her golden as she ignores Hazel, taking a sip of her beer as she takes you in. Everyone always has shit to say about you. Your parents, her friends, Abby’s parents, but no one really knows you. 

It’s not easy for you to let people in, you seem as harsh as can be to others, but Abby knows you’re quite the opposite. 

Different from everyone in the room, a polished cream suit and open collared button up shirt with your delectable collarbones exposed, your rings twinkle as you pet the husky, one you don't know belongs to Abby. If you did, your hand might feel repelled. 

It’s what you always wanted. A life out of here, out of the small town where you’ve always felt judged, persecuted, even ostracized when you came out — and you succeeded — leaving Abby behind in the process. Even if you didn’t intend to, it sort of just…happens. We leave the ones we love behind, even if it’s our last possible intention. 

Goodbye notions simmer and we forget about the love we once had. 

“Hazel, Dina was asking for you, she mentioned needing some help finding JJ’s pacifier?” 

“On it!” Abby chuckles as the cherry-haired girl flees into the other direction as Ellie laughs harder when she’s gone. 

“You’re welcome. She's like a dog with a bone when it comes to your beautiful ex-girlfriend.” 

“Watch it. Calling another woman beautiful, Dina might just skin you alive.” 

“Nope. She loves me too much.” 

Ellie chuckles as they watch you down another glass of champagne. Freeing your hair from the tight bun, your hair springs to life as it falls around your shoulders, framing your jawline as piercing eyes find the weeds poking through the freshly cut grass. 

A few people had offered up a sloppy introduction, a grievance of pity, before returning to their groups. Anxiously, you tear at the loose thread on the cuff of your sleeve. It gets longer and longer, avoiding everyone watching you. 

Pretending you don’t exist. You never do. Not in this wretched town where all dreams get sucked into a bottomless pit, where believers go to die. 

Abby nods, the feeling builds in the pit of her stomach as she yearns to get closer to you. Even after all the hurtful insults thrown her way years back, she’s conflicted. A missile is thrown into her life with your arrival and all of her friends, besides Ellie, tell her not to fall back into old patterns. Not to fall for your charm, not to be a victim to reckless love. 

The kind that left her empty for years. Abby knew the moment she fell, from the very first time they met, if you ever left her she’d never be the same again. You don't forget a love like this. It tears a hole within you before you even get a chance to think about it, their presence consuming your entirety, an empty promise of endless salvation dies on the tip of your tongue. 

Impossible shoes to ever be filled. 

Truly, Abby thought she had been in love before you, but she wasn’t. The feeling she’s been chasing for the rest of her life returns when she looks at you. Those bright eyes when you play with the pup, the gentle hand as your scrap his chin with the crescent of your blunt nails. 

She feels more looking at you for one moment than anyone she’s dated after you. 

It’s sickening. 

Still, her friends ridicule her any chance they get. Telling her of what you’re like, how you hurt her, what you’ll do when your claws sink into Abby. It falls on a hyper fixated heart. She can’t think of anything when all the blood comes rushing to her head, how beautiful you look when she sees you anxiously biting your bottom lip, something you do when you’re attempting to stop the tears from spilling. 

None of them knew what it meant to look in your eyes and wonder how someone so good couldn’t recognize the purity in your eyes, the love you give out when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. They didn’t see the years of torture, the family that wasn’t so perfect, the anger you held wound so tight. You didn’t have anywhere to put it. Never could. Not when the image of the perfect daughter is meant to be upheld. 

Not a soul knows the information Abby does. There’s nothing more you love than to hide in the shadows, hoping to be forgotten, how you nearly crave to be eaten alive if it means an end to your misery. It isn’t lost on her how much she wants to shield you from it all. 

“Why don’t you go and talk to her?” 

Ellie points the glass of wine she’s been nursing to you, watching as you excuse yourself into the empty guest house. Your body is still viewable through the tall glass windows, your body disappearing from the common area of the small home. The exact one she’s been renovating per your mother’s request. 

“She’ll just—” Absentmindedly, Abby kicks the dirt with the toe of her boot, rooting her heel in the ground as she bites the wall of her gums, trying to center herself. Attempting to not let her mind wander into what if’s, what could have been. 

“What? Figure out you’re scared?” 

“I’m not scared.” Sighing into the palm of her hands as she can’t help but bite into Ellie’s comment, “It’s been years. For all I know, Cherry hates my guts. Not that it fucking matters, but I’m the last person they want to talk to. Plus, when she’s upset the last thing they want is to talk.”  

“You’ll do just fine, can’t be too bad. They were always sweet on you.” 

“It’s been years, Hazel’s right, in some sense I—” 

“Please, even you know the only thing she wants is to get in your pants. That part is lost on me, you’re too beefy for my taste.”

“Some people like that, dick.” 

“Your girlfriend sure did.” 

“Ex-girlfriend.” 

The rest of the night Abby avoids all of her friends, especially the meddling junkie, Hazel; fucking hazel. She wouldn’t let her rest. They never had done more than share a friendly hug and for some reason she always looked at Abby like she hung all the stars spreading across the galaxy. 

“Are you going to let Hazel think she has a chance forever?” 

Abby just shakes her head in omission. 

“There’s no chance, I’m not—” 

“Abby! I got you a glass of lemonade. Sweet with just a few cubes of ice, just the way you like it!” Ellie wiggles her eyebrows at Abby as if she has proved her point. 

As soon as Hazel turns around, Ellie goes right back to the pitch of her ex-girlfriend, trying to sell Abby on the past. The only woman Dina and her had liked in her mess of a dating scene. A long line of hookups, one serious relationship that ended so horrifically the cops had to be called, and then there was Hazel. A naive girl who had been harboring a crush for nearly a year, the time Dina had adopted her into their little makeshift family. 

You walk out of the guest house more comfortably. A pair of dark denim and a black graphic tee with the sleeves cut off. Abby smiles at how much you look like the woman she fell in love with, the youthful ache she still feels with every beat of her heart. The one you crushed in the palm of her hands without thinking twice. 

Abby’s throat constricts when you catch her staring, quickly looking away, biting at your fingernails before your father introduces you to the new neighbors. 

“What’s so important, Hazel?” Ellie bites. 

Hazel ignores her. All she can see is Abby looking right at you. 

Abby had realized she completely zoned out, her energy and focus harbored on you. Five minutes within your arrival and her head was already feeling the rapid hum of her heartbeat caught in the bottom of her throat as you looked at her again, just for a second longer before you turned the other direction, away from her gaze. 

“Abby—” 

Abby hums absentmindedly with you on her mind, infecting her thoughts like a former addict getting their first fix for years. The high. It feels even better than her mind could remember. The curious gaze in bright eyes feels intoxicating, too good to be true, and the fall feels higher than it ever was to begin with. 

“Yeah?” 

“She’s coming over here.” 

It only takes a few minutes before Abby takes a swig at her beer, wipes the sweat collecting on the palm of her hands. When you get closer, she notices the engraving of A.A. engraved on a glimmering silver ring. 

Did you keep it after all this time? 

“Tell her to leave—” 

“Hazel, for the love of god, would you shut your mouth?” Ellie barks as you make your way over to Abby. 

Abby tries to make her resolve hard, icy even, but it’s not. Her electrified blue eyes are warm, full of curiosity and wonder, her freckled cheeks are flushed from the heat of the sun and her barely there grin has you offering one of your own. 

“Abigail, hey.” 

Abby is surprised you hug her and she doesn't want to accept but it feels too rude not to. But the second her arms envelop around your body you fit perfectly into her. Just like all those years ago, you’re everything she loves. Like no time has passed, as if you didn’t rip her heart and stump out the love it once held. 

“It’s just Abby now.” Hazel interjects. 

“Sorry, I didn’t know, Abby, right.” 

“How could you? You’d have to be around—” 

Ellie gently elbows Hazel in the stomach, trying to silence her best efforts to scare you away from the treasury stock of a blonde she believes to be hers. 

“Abby, sorry. I’m just—” 

“You’ve always called me, Abigail. It’s alright. Promise.”

There she is. 

The charm that makes you fall when you don’t need to. It’s laughable that Abigail can make years of therapy, years of dating other people to get over her seem like a dream, as if it’d only just been the two of you all of this time. Like nothing had changed. 

But everything has. 

“Um, do you mind if we talk in private?” 

Abigail follows your lead into the empty house, the party rages outside as the two of you sit in the living room, neither of you knowing what way to take your best foot forward. 

“Sorry if I made things awkward with you and your girlfriend—” 

“Oh, uh, she’s not….we’re not dating or anything.” 

Shit. 

You wish she was. 

Abby doesn’t know what to think when the expression on your face wasn’t instant relief but instead turmoil within yourself. Your eyebrows furrowed as if you expected her to be in a relationship. It would leave you to escape from the overflow of feelings you had rushing through your core. 

“You look shocked.” 

“I just—” You bite your lip, looking anywhere but her, trying to put your best foot forward, like your father says, he’s the whole reason this conversation is even happening. “I can’t lie, it would have made this…easier? I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing.” 

“What are you trying to do?” Abby has a bubbly laugh threatening to burst but she swallows it for the sake of your dignity. 

“Okay, well that’s not nice.” 

“Do you want me to be?” 

“Well, my dad he just thought that—” 

“Wait, you’re talking to me because of your dad?” Abby stands up from the couch, rubbing her hands over her flushed face. “Not even because it’s been years, but because — well, why?” 

“He was just encouraging me. I’m nervous, isn’t that fucking obvious? I can’t even look at you without feeling like I’m eighteen again.” 

She’s standing at her tall height, looking down at you as you begin to cry. 

Well shit. 

“Hey, hey—” Abby sinks to the floor on her knees, her body between your legs. “C’mon, there’s no need for all of that.” 

“I hate that you haven’t changed.” 

“Did you want me to?” 

No, you say just to yourself. Not trusting the waver of your voice to give her the truth. There’s always so much on the line with her. Everything feels heavy, final, an anchor to hold you down but also drag everything you are, tangled with her sweet, honey-filled baby blues. 

“Can’t you be mean to me or something? Even the playing field a little bit.” 

“Not even a little, sweetheart. We both know I never could.” Her fingertips trace your forearm, a shiver courses throughout your body, “I will admit, everyone says I should.” 

“They’re right. I deserve it.” 

“If we all got what we deserved, well, that would be such an ugly world, wouldn’t it? Just because you did something hurtful doesn’t make you cruel. It makes you human.” 

“But I do deserve the cruelty.” 

“Fine, I hate you.” Abby says with a smirk on her face, wiping away a stray tear, looking too fondly on the woman who broke her heart. She’s too kind for her own good. 

The giggle Abby omits rivals sunshine. 

“I just didn’t want it to affect the work on the house, everything between us, it’s complicated and I’ll be in the guest house while my mom’s—” 

“I know, you don’t have to say it. Your dad may have mentioned it to me. I’m sorry, I truly am.” 

“I am too. For everything. I shouldn’t have left the way I did. I was so young, scared, and I wanted you to hate me. It just seemed easier than having you actually miss me.” 

“I did miss you.” Abby's warm palm might as well be burning your denim jeans through as she touches your thigh. “You could have done the worst thing imaginable and I still would have. I’ve never had, uh, reason with you I guess. Love doesn’t know scorn, like a child with a knife, even if you can get hurt — sometimes it’s worth it.” 

The stars in her blue eyes hold the same light in them, too full of love, her older and refined spirit lays beneath them and she has become someone you have even more love for. It’s too damning. Abigail Anderson has always been more than you can handle, always outshining everyone in this small town even if she couldn’t see it for herself. 

“I’m surprised you came back for them, you know, after everything.” 

It’s not just them. 

“They say she doesn’t have a lot of time, so—” You sigh heavily into your palms, “And that’s not your problem, but thank you for being so cool about everything. Maybe we can be friends?” 

“Yeah, maybe.” Abby knows neither of you can’t. It’s never worked out that way. It’s all or nothing and she’s always been the all-in type of girl. She loves big, not caring if her own heart gets trampled in the process. 

Her love blinds like the sun, but it settles over your heart like the moonlight kissing the waves — you just hope the tide is strong enough to bring you home.

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧, 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 ❞

The first few weeks back at home felt like a breath of fresh air. As much as you disdained being home, the cracks of your family nearly breaking you in the process, you had her. 

Even if you didn’t really have her. 

The definite silence was not so, Abby still soaked in her warm heart, the one you hoped she kept. The best part of her. She’s too kind, even when you don’t deserve it, she still freely gives it. 

It bleeds into her work. 

Clearly, your father was more than fond of her. Several occasions they would be chumming it up, your father even grilling a few patty hamburgers up for them both when the clock struck noon. They always did love her, possibly even more than you, but to say they were devastated about the break would be a tragic understatement. 

Get her back. 

She’s a prize in this town. 

Abigail Anderson is the best you can do, you’re not doing better than Dr. Anderson’s daughter. 

But you never did try. You trusted the universe as a sign given. The people driving you out of this town sided with the woman you had broken up with, so you left and didn’t look back twice. 

Yet, she did, in more ways than you were even aware of. 

Because of her stupidly built physique, you couldn’t stop looking. 

Anchored into the heat, her muscles constrict as she helps the crew demo the tile of the master suite, the last touch of the renovation needs. Besides the final paint job in the guest house, Abby had finished it all. In all honesty, Abby was hoping all of it would be complete by the time you arrived back in town. Being around you on a daily basis, her friends telling her it’s only a matter of time before she’s back in your arms, it feels like a slap in the face. 

As if she has no self restraint. 

To be fair, she doesn’t. 

Abby’s gone to lunch with you three times, had coffee with you once, and she exhibits her obsessive memory — still having your order memorized — even if it's the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard of. She still finds herself stuck between your teeth like cotton candy. 

It’s all friendly, supposedly, but it’s the easiest thing to slip back. 

Old habits do die hard. 

Right now, you’re just watching her work. 

You’ve been doing it a lot lately. 

Out of habit, nervousness, maybe it’s the anxiety flooding through your bloodstream. All of this feels erasable. Too much thrown at you, with her, it always happens to be too irreplaceable. 

The ghost you’ve been running from, the one that hides in the shadow, even if you’ve tried to stay on the path you’ve created. Dug from the ashes of all your failures, she’s the one thing you haven’t made right. The nights where you got too drunk, nearly texting her or calling her, the picture you still curated in a specific folder, the one you would look for when you’re the weakest. 

Being back in your hometown, the first person who ever truly loved you, it feels suffocating. 

It doesn’t help that she looks so good. Or that she’s even kinder. The love in her eyes is even more whole-hearted than they were ten years ago. Part of you tells yourself you couldn’t even help yourself if you tried. This is just how it’s supposed to be. The heartbreaker pining for the woman’s heart you shattered into pieces. 

All it took, a few cups of coffee and Abby taking you to lunch and paying — it feels awfully like a date but you keep your mouth shut. Her being present in your life is already confusing enough; the added weight would just be unbearable. 

But after today, you won’t see her again. Painting the final room in the guest house is the last duty she has to fulfill and the renovation is done on your parent’s property. The ache in the pit of your stomach is unsettling as you attempt to simmer through and wonder why the pain becomes so deep. As if the woman in front of you was scorning you alive. 

“You need something or are you gonna stare at me all day?” 

You watch Abby throw the paint roller back in the tray, running the brush in the sage green, before turning the attention back to the wall, waiting for you to respond. 

“No, I wasn’t staring.” Abby chuckles at that. 

Chuckles. 

“Yeah, sure.” 

If you could see her pouty lips, you’re sure that they’d be pulled into a smirk. Lately, she’s been enjoying this too much. Catching you staring at her for too long, biting the precious bottom lip of yours as she’s putting her muscles to work or when you caught her peeling the sweaty tank of her body for a new one, every inch of her skin glowing in the wake of the blistering sun. 

Her abdomen, toned with a not so subtle four pack, her v-line defined as it disappears into her jeans. It’s sickening. Really. It is. She catches your self control slipping through the cracks, dignity along with it as you give in to her adonis-like physique. 

The shock going through your body, going completely still as Abby just chuckles, winking at you before she goes about her day. Like it was nothing, like this is a normal occurrence for her. You’re not sure what thought made you feel even more sick. 

Women fawning over her or what happened after. 

But you didn’t have a right, you know you didn’t. 

You swallowed the unflattering buzz of sweeping jealousy until you couldn’t feel in anymore. It’s not an emotion you even deserve to feel. While the two of you had been getting closer the longer you spent with each other, you knew your boundaries well enough to know you still weren’t there, you never would be. 

The ghosts from your past made damn sure of it. 

“I can pose for you if you’re going to keep looking.” 

“I wasn’t—” 

Abby wipes the mixture of sweat, oils, and paint on the pair of old blue-denim. She lets her blonde hair out of the bun she wore, despite the icy temperature, her body runs warm. 

“It’s okay to admit it.” 

“Admit what?” Suddenly you become defensive, arms crossing over your chest. 

“That you’re still attracted to me.” Abby takes your curves in and nearly blows a low whistle, “You’re awful at hiding it.” 

“I-I’m not, this isn’t….you’re not, like, easy to look at, you know? Uh, ummm….” 

Standing there like an idiot as you struggle to get the words out, nearly impossible to get them released, your mouth staggering, unable to even keep them shut as Abby stalks you, your body pressed against the kitchen counter, the new one she installed days ago. 

Nothing comes out on the way you intend it to. Fuck. Did you offend her? 

“I’m not?” 

She whispers into your ear, her lips ghosting your skin. A free hand plays with the buckle of your belt before she pulls you closer by the fastened leather. It’s soft to the touch, making her want to sink her teeth into you, until her canines break the surface of your skin, claiming you as hers once again. 

Abby thinks about removing it off you, bending you over the counter and punishing you for it or even fastening the belt around your neck, pulling you along until you’re right where she pleases. The craving in the pit of her belly only stirs into an unmanageable peace the longer you stand there — squirming with satisfaction — waiting to be put out of your misery. 

Golden locks tickle your jaw, the static energy radiating off of her shocks your skin, goosebumps come alive on every inch of you as she makes her presence known. One fact you haven’t been able to shake, Abby Anderson is a force to be reckoned with. Ten years, ten full years, and your life means nothing now that she’s right in front of you. 

“Abigail, I don’t really think this is a good idea.” Abby waits for you to push her away, but instead you place your hands around her forearms but she’s so big, and it’s intoxicating that she stands taller than you. Her biceps the size of your head, veins protruding as she flexes, as if it didn’t make matters worse. 

“Then why don’t you just admit it?” Abby presses her pelvis even closer to yours and you wonder if you’re hallucinating the barely-there kiss to below your ear. “You want me just as much as you did back then. Ten years apart won’t change that. You still care about me, even though you wish you didn’t, you do.” 

“Abigail, we can’t go there, we both are—” 

“What? I’ve always been a patient girl. I can wait.” Loudly, you groan as she peppers kisses down your neck, before scratching at her skin, when she kisses the one spot behind your ear she certainly didn’t forget about. 

Abby digs her teeth in as you hiss, she enjoys the thrill of your soft whimpers, she’s barely started and you’re giving her just what she needs. The two of you know it, there isn’t a fix for this, the thread of a craving pulls until it’s fed. 

“Oh–” 

Rough hands hoist you on the counter top as she slots herself between your thighs, her frame protecting you as if you were a wild animal trying to be saved from extinction. The greed in Abby’s palm finds salvation when she touches exposed skin, silk to the touch — it doesn’t feel quite as sinful as she’s been told. 

She should hate you, right? 

You hurt her, didn’t look back twice, and you’ve never been the same. 

All of this is just a facade. The life you have, the future you always dreamed of building is thousands of miles from here and she just doesn’t fit within it anymore, everyone tells her she never did. A missing puzzle piece with a jagged edge, the more Abby tries to fit with your world, the further she pushes away. 

But she held onto the hope that your world no longer fit you and maybe — like a fool who believes in their first dream — she could be your world again. 

Sparkling, honey-blues dazzle their way into your heart once again, reminding you of everything you love, striking a reminder through your soul of just what you had hurt. The life you stole, the one you wanted to so desperately have but fear still swarms you. The memory doesn’t feel so distant, the past isn’t the past but lies as a reminder of the blood still staining your hands. 

With hesitance, you hold her full-freckled cheeks in your palms with a delicate hand, fearful any touch from you would burn her in the process. 

“Do you think this is a good idea?” You bite into the isolating air, threatening to swarm your soul but she finds you first. Abby’s warm breath feeds into the need blossoming like a seed rooted in soil, solidifying the growth of budding salvation. 

“I don’t know. Do you?” 

She’s so sweet on you, even as the trickle of poison burns her, Abby would gladly let it absorb every inch of her skin if it meant this. The wondrous arrival of a love once lost, her heart torn right down the middle. Unsure if giving into reason or a festered dream. 

It all grabs a hold of her the same, unwillingly to release her from the pure agony she feels when you’re not around. More dramatic than she intended it to be, the dagger once pushed through her heart, exerting every drop of blood until she felt unsatisfied iron saturating her tongue. 

She would even show gratitude if you let her. 

“Everything I think I know changes when you’re involved, so no, I don’t.” 

Leaning into your touch, Abby swears into the palm of your hand, her hands smooth over the fabric of your pants and your entire skin leaves a trail of fire anywhere her large, calloused hand scorns you. The weight of her love feels heavy, as it always has, but the temptation to carry every ounce of it is heavier than it’s been in years. 

With a terror in your chest, you blurt out the first thought entering you mind.  “You’ve aged really well, can barely tell you’re hitting thirty.” 

“Oh yeah? I can think of a few ways to show you.” 

Shit. 

A rapid heartbeat ready to burst, you’re not sure if it’s you or her. She’s inching closer, lips ghosting yours, her minty-ice breath makes home over yours. With a slight graze, you inhale a sharp breath, read for her to lean into you. 

Slam! 

“Am I interrupting something?” Immediately, you push Abby off of you, a judging pair of eyes scanning the two of you. 

The woman from the party looked like she could actually kill you with her bare hands. Then there’s Ellie sitting there grinning like the joker, one giggle away from sounding like the maniac himself. As if she was fully aware this would happen. The two of you are running off of pure animal instinct, unable to keep your hands off one another. 

“Abby? What’s going on?” The snip in the woman’s voice is evident, so is the possession she so clearly feels over your ex-girlfriend. The jealousy you feel over the thought sends an unwanted shiver up your spine. 

Then she’s looking at you, expecting you to disintegrate into nothing right in front of her. Like you had done something terribly wrong. 

Didn’t Abby say she’s single? 

“Chill out, Hazel.” Ellie rolls her eyes, smirking at the steam practically boiling out of Hazel’s ears. “Ready for that drink? Dina and Jesse are already waiting.” 

“Uh—” She looks back at you, avoiding eye contact with everyone. “Yeah, can you just give me a sec?” 

“But I really think we should—” 

“Down Hazel, god, you’re worse than a dog. They clearly were about to suck each other’s faces off. Move it.” 

Hazel clearly looks offended as she desperately looks at Abby, hoping for her to save a little bit of dignity but Abby just punches the bridge of her nose as Ellie escorts out an extremely frigid Hazel. 

Abby doesn’t miss the way the woman who has far too big of a crush on her tries to shoot daggers into you but you’re too busy focused on plucking your overgrown cuticles. 

As soon as the door shuts you bend over the counter, forehead pressed into the white marble of the island, settling for a frustrated groan even when you want to scream. 

“That bad, huh?” Abby stands behind you, watching as you lose it in front of her. 

“Your friends already hate me, was that really fucking needed?” 

There’s an itching, envious need to ask why Hazel seems to be protective over Abby, borderlining on obsession, but you keep your mouth tight lipped. Even if it’s the first thing ready to roll off your tongue. 

“They’re fine, Hazel is just—” 

“Protective.” You avoid her as she smirks, clearly enjoying the clear look of jealousy in your beautifully bright eyes. 

“Oh?” Abby is grinning, pearly whites shining as majestic as the moon. “I didn’t think you’d even feel like that about me.” 

As if it's instinct, she can’t stop how much she’s loving this. One moment of her lips on your skin and suddenly you want her all to yourself. Your head is spinning and her stupid, blue eyes won’t stop looking at you like a divine treasure. 

“I-I don’t know what to say.” 

You never did well with things out of your control, never really could. It’s why all of it ended the way it did. If you couldn’t somehow manipulate into what you wanted, it faded until you couldn’t hear it any longer. Abby faded into the noise, into your past, but maybe she is the noise and for the first time in ten years you can finally hear. 

“You don’t have to say anything but you can come with me.” 

“With your friends?” Abby nods. 

“All of your friends hate me and one looks like she might actually kill me. Why on earth would you think that’s a good idea?” 

“All of them are adults. They’ll handle just fine besides,  I want you there.” As soon as Abby says those words, your harsh seamer softens, rejection melts and dissipates from your vocabulary. She’s always been a difficult person to say no to. “You could use some social interaction, you don’t even leave this guest house.” 

“How did you know that?” 

“I have eyes?” Abby states it as more of a question, a giggle threatening to bubble out. 

“Oh god.” Abby laughs as she takes off her tool belt before finding her jacket and slipping it on her body. Grabbing her keys on the counter, looping the carabiner on the loop of her weathered denim. 

“Ready?”  

There’s a look of uncertainty in your eyes, nearly bleeding into an unwillingness to bend, but her words reassure you before you even get a chance to explain. As if she settled in your heart ten years ago and never left. 

“Don’t worry, okay? If anyone’s mean to you, I’ll set them straight, Cherry.” 

The nickname falls off her tongue, the sentiment hits you like a tsunami of emotion, bringing you back to every loving emotion she exposed to you for the first time. 

It shouldn’t cut you this deep but it will — she always will. 

❝ ⋮ ⌗ ┆𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞: 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐞 ❞

March 26th, 2013 

“C’mon dance with me!” Abby screams over the loud music of the party. Fluorescent lights, a disco ball and tequila raged through her body, the alcohol pumping through her veins as she finally mustered the liquid courage to talk with the girl she’s been crushing on all sophomore year. 

Her friends had been teasing her all night about it, but when the girl looked at her in disgust, shoulder checking her into oblivion, she couldn't help but take it to heart. Her blue eyes swell with tears, a waterfall raging within her as she makes her way to the bathroom, puking out her dinner at her father’s house. 

So much for prom night, right? 

Making a beeline for the bathroom, with yet another rejection to check off the list, stupid fucking after party she lied to her dad about going to. It’s all so stupid, of course Lacey wouldn’t be into someone like her. No one likes her, no one ever will, she’s just the lame screw up in this town who can’t like boys, not when the rest of the girls in the wretched town do. 

Even if her dad tells her, it’s what makes her special — it’s a bunch of horse shit. 

So, in the home of the girl she confessed her undying love for, she pukes her guts out in the bathroom until there’s a knock at the door and a soft yet concerned shout that follows. “Hey, are you okay? Sounds a little rough in there!” 

“Shit,  yeah, just one second…” Abby collects herself taking off her jacket as she rolls up the sleeves, residue of what she chucked up on the cuff of her shirt. Quickly, she rinses off and roles the sleeves up. 

Well, it didn’t get any more embarrassing than this. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? I can get someone it’s really not a pro—” 

Without a further beat, the door is swung open. Abby suspects to see someone she knows, but she doesn’t. It’s a fresh face and she’s never been more grateful. The eyeliner she thought Lacey would like was probably smudged all over her face, Abby had no doubt she probably resembled someone operating an oil rig of some kind. 

Just as Abby tries to talk, she feels another round come up and she runs to the toilet, sinking to her knees as more bile comes out. Way to go Anderson, you’ve managed to utterly humiliate yourself in front of two beautiful women tonight. Truly, there should be some type of an award for being the dumbest idiot on the planet. 

Somehow, she knows all of this will come back to bite her in the ass. There’s no way that she isn't the complete laughing stock of the high school until she walks across the stage in two years with a diploma on hand. Whoever you are, you’re sure you’ll tell the entire town. 

A stupid pathetic lesbian who can’t have one good night to save her life. 

One of the most important nights of her life. 

But she doesn’t hear a mockery laugh, a snide comment…she isn't even met with pure disgust. The third and fatal option. There’s a comforting hand on her back, reassuring her everything will be just fine, the other holding her hair into  a makeshift ponytail, ensuring there isn't a single strand getting tied into the mess of her sickness. 

By the time Abby’s done, she feels even more humiliated, her body running hot, cheeks aflame but you’re already running warm water underneath the towel folded on the shelf above the toilet. Kneeling down again, you angle her by the jaw, wiping the residue off her lips and you carefully wash away the black eyeliner smeared all over her freckled-cheeks. 

For a second, Abby notices you staring at her pouty lips but she doesn’t say a word about it. 

Turned out so wonderful the first time…

“Here!” You pull from your pocket, a pack of red labeled gun, cherry flavored, and pull out one piece wrapped in paper-tin foil. “For your, you know, breath.” 

“Is this your nice way of telling me I have bad breath?” Abby teases, one moment with a pretty stranger, and she already felt more like herself. Abby takes a piece of gum, unraveling the piece before shoving the strip into her mouth. 

“Well, you did puke.” 

Regretfully she chews as the taste turns sweet instead of mint, her face contorts in rejection but still she chews. It’s not exactly what she had in mind. 

“You don’t like Cherry flavored? That’s just bad taste!” You grab a piece of gum for yourself, throwing the piece of paper in the trash, consuming it wholeheartedly, almost moaning as you put on a show. 

“Whatever you say, Cherry.” The sun might as well be shining on you from just how warm you feel. Heat rising in your heart, blossoming through your chest, thriving from the attention of the sun, 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I don’t know your name.” 

“Well, I don’t know yours either…” Abby hints, tilting her head to the side with a smirk the size of Texas. For once, she finds this easy, talking to a pretty girl, flirting with a pretty girl — proving it didn’t always have to be so hard to have something this good. 

“Call me Cherry, it’s better than my real one, trust me.” You smile sweetly, fully willing to rot each tooth if it means you could feel like this. “What’s yours?” 

“Abigail.” 

The two of you just stare at each other like idiots, two losers, two outcasts and all of it started to make sense. Every heartache dealt out by careless handlers of the heart, each person who made you feel small, unworthy, who knew all of it could be healed by looking into the brightest pair of blue eyes, the warmest, full of honey and marvelous wonder. 

It feels wonderful, being this close to a feeling, a lover's dream in the sunshine of spring, kissing shoulders never exposed to the brightful joy, freckles sprouting like bees flees to honey. One more kiss of sunshine until the sweetness falls on your tongue, guiding you to the spirit of love and everything you ever lost. 

One person, one perfect person who makes your youth scream of joy again. Jumping off a cliff, plummeting into the cool ocean without second thought, hoping they’ll be there to jump off it with you. Even if it takes a lifetime of waiting — you’d wait your entire life for her. 

As long as she’s in the sun, freckles being painted by pure light, you’d soak in the sun right along with her. 

“Thank you.” She squeaks out the words so small, you nearly miss it. 

“There’s no need for thanking. Just doing the right thing s’all.” Your smile is so sweet, Abby nearly feels every part of her body rotting with sugar. “Do you wanna talk about it?” 

“There was just this girl and I really thought she liked me but she really didn’t and I have this thing where I get a lot of anxiety or nervous I kind of just puke. It’s totally lame, god, I can’t wait to get out of this place.” 

“Me too. High school sucks.” You agree with her, offering a small smile as you finish cleaning her up. “But she’s totally lame for not seeing how great you are.” 

Abby tries not to blush, but she can’t hit the crimson swell painting the apples of her cheeks and the tips of her ears. “Did you try to kiss her or something?” 

“I didn’t really get that far, she wouldn’t even dance with me. Not here, not prom, guess I’m not cool enough for her.” Pushing the metal frame of her glasses up her nose, trying to stop herself from biting into her blunt nails, nearly drawing blood. Now that she’s come down from her puking fest, she sees how beautiful you are. The kind of beauty that would bring her to her knees if Abby wasn’t already there. 

“Cool is overrated. Who cares about being cool? We’re all losers trying to figure it out.” You say it as if it’s the most obvious statement in the world, as if you’re confident in exactly who you want to be. Abby is envious of it. She wonders what it’s like to be so free — to not wonder what everyone is constantly thinking about you — if you’re good enough. 

You don’t seem to care. 

“If you still wanna dance, I’d dance with you. We can be losers together.” You offer up to her as you stand to your feet, offering a hand up to her and she takes it willingly. You grab the jacket to her suit, helping her slip into it and she smoothes the jacket over her frame. 

“You really don’t have to—” But you look at her with the most absurd gaze of refusal, eyebrows furrowed as it makes this cute little line between them.  Abby can’t help but admire it. 

“Oh, we’re going to fucking dance and show whoever this bitch is just what she’s missing.” 

Present day. 

There’s a lot to be said for how you let yourself succumb to her again, it didn’t take much, just a batting of blonde eyelashes and irresistible pouty lips and you’d fallen victim to Abigail Anderson. The hardest thing you’ve ever done was leave her. All these years later, you’re right back to where you were before all of this had started. 

It seems to shock all of her friends when the two of you walk on together and even more shocking when Abby throws her arm behind you, engaging in conversation here and there. Mostly, you tune out the conversation and mindlessly sip on the beer in front of you.��

Hazel isn’t happy about the predicament, cold brown eyes sport a simmering guidance of rage as she watches Abby’s fingers on your shoulder tracing random patterns into your skin. The arrival of your presence in turn makes her take jabs at you all night. Even with your silence, it doesn’t stop her, and when you have no visceral reaction she finally goes for something that brings silence around the entire table. 

“Why are you even here? Breaking Abby’s heart wasn’t enough the first time? Why don’t you run back to your sick mother and stop playing with people just because it’s fun for you.” Hazel bites and you feel the swarm of your tears begin to build and she keeps going, “Isn’t that why you came back? Not because you actually care but because your mom is going to die.” 

“Sorry, excuse me—” Hazel scoffs as you slither away and head towards the bathroom. As if she’s accomplished, she sips on her margarita, like what she just did was a service to everyone here. 

Ellie and Dina sit there in shock, trying to process what the fuck had just happened. Jesse sits there silently, discomfort written all over his face. But Abby? She’s filled with a soaring hot rage, face flushed violet as her knuckles turn white. Hazel immediately shrinks into the booth, unprepared for what’s about to happen. 

She thought Abby would be happy, kicking someone who so wrongly hurt her to the curb. You didn’t deserve her. You never would. Hazel deserves you. She’s been here, waiting for Abby to see her and love her, not you. 

“What the fuck is your problem? Cherry wasn’t even doing a goddamn thing and you’ve been attacking them all damn night.” Abby’s rage is palpable, steaming to the touch, and nothing like any of them have ever seen. 

“I did this for you! She treated you horribly! She broke your heart! She deserves it.” 

Abby pinches the bridge of her nose, tossing her head against the wall, “This has got to fucking stop. Cherry broke up with me goddamn ten years ago and it’s none of your business.” Hazel could practically see the steam rolling off her before Abby raised her voice even more, “You didn’t have a right to bring up her mom regardless of whatever happened. Jesus, if I want to be around her or want Cherry around, everyone here is just going to have to fucking deal.” 

“Abby, we’re just trying to look out for you. Cherry only ever thinks about herself.” 

“Well fucking don’t. I can handle myself despite whatever you think I can deal with. Stay the fuck away from her or you’ll live to regret it.” 

Throwing a twenty on the table to cover her tab, she finds you washing your face, trying to get rid of the puffiness in your eyes. When you see her, you turn her away, a lame attempt to stop her from seeing you like this. 

Weak. Overbearing. A winded rush pressing on your lungs, struggling to breathe — you didn’t need any of this. Not to be back right where it all destroyed you. Then here she is, the living reminder of your transgressions, your failure, the one thing you couldn’t fix. 

All roads lead to her. All of it is sick and twisted. The look of love pierces through your soul, scouring through the place you keep hidden under lock and key; the part that still loves her. 

It demands attention. To be heard. To be seen. To violate you and your dreams, to place her before everything else. A violent reminder of how all of this started. Before you could catch up with the tide, everything flips, your entire life becomes a reflection of what you feared. 

Abby has her life together and yours is coming apart. 

Everyone hates you for what you become. For how little you cared about leaving the first twenty years of your life behind, a chapter closed and discarded as if it never existed to you in the first place. 

“Let me take you home, alright? I’m sorry for Hazel she’s—” 

“It’s fine.” You cut her off, drying your eyes, or trying to but you can’t stop crying in the first place. “It was stupid of me to agree to this.” 

“You aren’t stupid, sorry, she was being a cunt. It won’t happen again. I won’t let it happen.” 

Abby carefully wipes your tears away, “Hey, let’s get out of here. Yeah? My place is just up the street. Just the two of us.” 

You nod as Abby leads you out, her palm feels welcoming in your grip, a homecoming you have been dying to feel. Her touch feels warm, perfect as her fingers interlock with your own. Like no time has passed, it’s easy for you to slip back into her grasp. 

Everything about her feels right. When she helps you get in her truck, the old one her father always wanted to renovate and it seems she did just that. The ride is only a couple minutes before she’s parking in the garage of her home. She opens the door for you, a hand on your back as she leads you towards the door leading into her house. 

What you expect to be a farmhouse, a hint of southern barn meets boho chic, but you’re met with something else entirely. 

It’s exactly what she talked about building growing up. Everything else feels modern except the cherry red kitchen with white accents and marble countertops. There’s cherries everywhere, but it’s subtle enough to the naked eye, you wouldn’t blink twice.

The memory comes back to you in a hot flash, one you weren’t fond of. 

“We can have it all. I’ll buy you a damn house, I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever you need, I want this, Cherry. More than I’ve ever wanted anything. I love you, please, can’t you see a future with both of us?” 

“But I don’t want to be here. You know that! My dad can hardly look at me because I’m with a woman, my mom tries but she doesn’t understand. Is this the kind of life you want? They remind me that I’m not good enough. Who I love isn’t good enough, not if I’m not with a man. Can you understand I’m dying to get out of this nothin’ town?” 

Abby gnaws at her bottom lip, teeth drawing blood as she sees you drawing within yourself. Pulling back at the first sign of hardship. Even Abby wonders if she’s worth fighting for. 

“You mean dying to get away from me? I’m in this nothin’ town you despise so much.” 

“Abigail, you’re taking words out of my mouth, that’s not what I’m saying.” 

“You just want to leave and I don’t.” You look at her, her adorable pout in a frown, arms she’s been bulking for the past couple years begin to show definition. The freckles she hates grew more prominent on her skin as she spent the summer working for father’s construction company. 

Her life is here, her future is here, but for once since the two of you met, your own two different paths and no matter how much you love her — it just won’t work. 

“We’re eighteen! Our entire lives are in front of us. I can’t stay here, Abigail. I just can’t. I dream of a big city, somewhere my stories will take me places, a life that I can’t find here.” 

“You got the scholarship, didn’t you?” Abby barks, her chest puffing out, jaw clenching as she pleads for you to tell her the truth. “Tell me the truth. You’ve been lying to me, hoping I’d change my mind?” 

“I wasn’t lying. I just—” 

“What? You were just going to leave one morning and never come back? Like I mean nothing to you?” Abby removes her glasses to pinch the bridge of her nose. “Like the past two years have just been what? A way for you to pass time until your real life comes along. Fucking great.” 

“I told you from the start, I want more. I need to do more! No one gets into NYU around here and certainly not on a scholarship. I have a chance for a real future, a way out from my parents, a new life, I’ve always wanted this. You know I have.” 

“And I’ve always wanted you.” 

Silence engulfs the room, a pindrop could be heard, the tension could be cut with a knife but Abby sees the wall closing around you. Covering her from the heart you slowly opened up to her, what she fought tooth and nail for. She always fought for you but it’s hard to do anything when you don’t believe this is worth saving. 

“You don’t even have the decency to ask me.” 

“What?” 

“You just want to write me off. You lump me with everyone else because you don’t even give me the chance.” 

“What are you saying?” 

Abby’s blue eyes turn into ice, all the warmth void as the chill sends a shiver down your spine. Her throat feels tight, like even if she swallows her own spit she’ll choke. 

“Do you love me enough to make this work?” Abby flinches when you don’t immediately answer, because she knows where she stands, she would follow you across the world if it meant that’s what you wanted. To make you happy. But she can’t help but feel like she’s splitting herself apart for someone who doesn’t care in the way she does. 

With tears in your eyes, they cascade down your cheek before whispering to her, “I don’t.” 

“Get. Out.” She murmurs through clenched teeth, using the sleeve of her t-shirt, one you gifted her, to wipe away the tears that wouldn’t stop coming. The overflow of the heartache racked through her body like she’s never felt before. 

You don’t love her. You don’t love her. You never loved her. 

“Abs, please, don’t make me leave like this. Can we talk about this?” 

“What’s there to fucking talk about? We don’t love me, Cherry. What else is there to fucking say?” 

You nearly scream, not sure why anything you’re saying isn’t coming out the way you intended it to. “You’re not listening to me I—” 

“Right. You just need to find a man, right? God, you’re just like Lacey.” 

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” You bite, and if looks could kill, Abby would be dead right now. She’s struck a nerve, the memory of sophomore year comes flooding back to her, back when all of this started. “God, fuck you. How could you possible compare me to the straight girl that pulled you along because what she really wanted was Daniel Collins to fuck her so stupid she ended up pregnant junior year.” 

“You’re leaving, when your back is pressed up against a wall, you’ll always leave, Cherry.” 

“But I—” You stop yourself before you could speak the forbidden words, the ones you’ve said to her a million times, the one you just refuted that you did even if she can usually call you right on your bullshit. But you’ve diluted her sense of reasoning and all she hears is her girlfriend of two years just told her she doesn't love her. 

“You what? What other lies are you going to tell me?” 

“Fine.” Your expression turns stone cold, “Let’s both be done with it then. There’s nothing left to fight for.”  

Prideful ego gets in the way of what Abby wants and she finally lets her head speak for her, “Sounds good to me.” 

“Are you alright?” Abby asks but then she notices you’re just staring at her kitchen and she’s never been so self-conscious in her life. She didn’t even think about it, she’s so used to others seeing it but it’s different when your muse is taking in the craft you created with them in mind. 

“Oh, right, the cherries.” She stutters out, scratching the back of her neck as she turns the lights on. It smells of vanilla and something oak, just like she smelled in high school. To others it may seem boring but it’s refreshing to know she’s still the same as she was. 

“You still did it?” 

“Yeah, it’s kinda lame honestly, maybe I should have done something else but nothing ever fit right with the rest of the house so.” Abby pops open a beer, somehow needing to have some type of liquor while you gawk at the work she created with you in mind. “If I’m being honest, I think it was just a way for me to hold onto you. I sure didn’t think I would ever see you again.” 

“Me neither.” You answered truthfully, the loss of Abby rattled you, even though you were better at hiding it. Losing her is still the most painful loss you had to endure, which she considers fortunate, but not fortunate enough. “I always thought about what would have happened if I hadn’t been so headstrong. I think I had to convince myself in order to leave, I would have stayed here for you if not.” 

“I find that hard to believe.” Even if she pretends not to be, Abby’s still bitter. 

“Why?” 

“You always knew what you wanted out of life and that wasn’t me.” Abby chews on her bottom lip again, picking the label of the beer before taking another swig. “Hell, you left before I even got a chance to say goodbye.” 

“What?” Eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you take a step forward, “Did you come to the house?” 

“Of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave things like that. Did you not—” 

“No, I didn’t know, I thought that was it. I didn’t expect there to be more for my sake.” 

The way she looks at you feels like she’s peering into her soul, the way she sees you so clearly, better than anyone ever has, chilling you to your core. Bits and pieces of your love located in eyes that glimmer only for her, light electrified the moment your sights are set on her. 

It feels like falling in love with a broken melody. 

You admire the imperfections instead of leaving at the bridge. 

“I waited on your porch for hours but then your parents came home, saying they just had gotten back from dropping you off.” 

In a matter of moments, your entire world feels flipped, like everything you had known for the last ten years, a terrible lie you wished to never know. A nightmare you would hope to wake up from. That’s all this was, you would wake up in her father’s home as you fought in the kitchen, you convince yourself not to let go of the best thing that’s ever happened to you. 

“You came back for me?” 

Closing the space between the two of you, grabbing her beer and placing it on the countertop. Abby takes an intake of breath as you invade every part of her personal space. As corny as it sounds, you do smell of cherries. So sweet, her bones feel weak with need, as if she doesn’t inhale the sugar she’ll just crumble at your feet, begging for just one drop. 

“Yeah, I cried in front of your dad who hated me at the time, might I add. After that, he was kind, I think because he saw how much I…you know…” 

You remember how much he changed when you came home for the holidays three years later. Naturally, you always accepted he had just come around over time, but it wasn’t that at all — the weeps of your high school girlfriend convinced him. 

“Guess he saw how much I loved you or something…I don’t know…” She shrugs like it’s nothing. 

Like she's nothing; the careless lie you let her believe. 

Even with her dominating physical presence, she’s always been shy about this sort of thing. Expressing her feelings never really came easy, even if she wore them with her heart on her sleeve, admitting them was different than feeling them. 

“You changed his mind.” 

“He would have gotten there eventually. I’m sure he liked whoever you dated after me.” 

“Hm.” You grimly laugh, “He didn’t. Not the two I brought home but he always spoke fondly of you, he definitely likes you better then he enjoys his own kid.” 

Patient she is watching you process the information, it’s almost too much for her to swallow. What if you had been home when she was going to say goodbye? Would this be your home with her? The dreams of kissing her in the kitchen, cherry inspired, the family home she always wanted to build for the two of you. Now she’s here with no one but herself. Withering away the soul of a woman who only wanted love. 

“He loves you and if he doesn’t, that’s his loss. Trust me, I know it too well.” 

The confession hangs on the walls like a memorial, taking a trip down memory lane, or more like the hell of your own making. Demons you conjured cast over your past as if they only exist in hollow halls. The deeper you go, the more your heart slivers in the cracks of her delicate grip. For the first time, you don’t mind when she presses on your heartbeat — demanding more with just looking at you the way she does. 

The way she always has. 

“Do you still love me?” 

“Are you going to run away if I tell you?” 

Lips ghost over you, her breath hits your face, making it flush with heat. She leans against the counter, wrapping your back with one of her arms, tugging you close to her. 

“Abby, I’m a mess.” 

“I know.” 

“I don’t know what my family is going to look like or my future.” 

“I know.” 

“Abigail, would you stop saying that?” 

“I’ve only ever cared about you, I don’t care if your life is together. I’m here and I—” She dips her head to kiss down your neck, decorating your collarbones with her lips as she creates a map back to where she wants to the most, “will take care of you.” 

Abby kisses you like the air in her lungs is expendable, as she has endless amounts to give. That’s all she is love, pouring into every ounce of you that she can find. With desperate abandon, she wants to wipe your memory of every wrong she ever did you — she only wants to remind you of the reason why she loves you. Maybe it’ll be enough for you to wake up in her arms again. 

For once, she might be enough. 

“We don’t have to do this, I don’t know what it all means and—” 

“Right now? I don’t fucking care.” Abby leeches off your neck, kissing and delicately sucking, grazing her sharp teeth against sensitive skin. “I just want you.” 

Thoughtless abandon goes out the window as she guides you back into her apartment, off the spacious balcony and corners you into her room. Letting you fall on her bed as she stands above you, as she strips in front of you. Making a show of it, torturing you for sport, before she goes in for the kill. 

The alcohol still alive in your mind as she pulls off, a freckled maze maps its way all over her body. The subtle blonde happy trails travels underneath her navel and disappears beneath the fabric of her denim jeans. Your own self-control begins to slip, but Abby is too concerned with evening out the playing field. Even if this is a long-lasting goodbye, she’s going to make it last. 

Slipping your trousers down your legs, she’s met with cotton boxers — soaked all the way through. 

“Is that all for me?” Abby snaps the waistband against your skin as you squirm underneath your touch, bucking your hips into the air. Impossibly desperate for her touch. 

“Y-Yes, It’s for—” Irrevocably your eyes roll back into your skull, “Abigail, oh shit, shit, shitttt.”  

Sneaking a hand in your boxers, she opens up your inviting folds, slippery and as Abby glides along, collecting your slick with the calloused fingers. You squirm and shift, bucking into her hand, waiting for more to be given to you. 

“Just say my name like that pretty girl, so good for me, aren’t you?” Abby removes her hand as she pulls your boxers off your legs and without being asked she slides them down your legs as she pushes your shirt up to your tits, exposing the swell of your breasts to her possessive eyes, waiting to lay claim onto what she’s missed for the past ten years. 

“I wonder if you’re just as…” Abby takes a beat before rubbing over your hard nipple along her tongue, her denim-glad thigh grinding against your thigh as she suckles at your breasts. “Sensitive.” 

She moans into your skin, using her free hand to play with your pussy, soft strokes to your clit as she elicits more moans from you. The force of her strength and weight keeps you down, the stutter of your hips chasing her fingers. 

“My pretty baby, not so mean and bossy anymore, huh?” She bites your nipple gently before whispering in your ear, “Did you miss me that much?” 

“I just want more, please.” 

In any other circumstance, she happily would make you pay for it. Wait even, but if she doesn’t have you in her mouth for another second, she won’t survive. You’re so beautiful, you’re perfect in every conceivable way. The years had in fact been kind to you, different from what she knew when the two of you had sex but god, she thinks you’re even more exquisite now. 

“More?” Abby removes what remains of her clothing, leaving you to gawk at her muscled frame, small tits frame her chest perfectly. “How about you sit on my face, angel? How does that sound?” 

She’s already made you come twice, just on her tongue alone, pushing for a third as she holds you by the waist, waiting for your overstimulated body to give into her once more. 

Abby makes everyone look inadequate when it comes to her, no one could touch you like this, fuck you like this, slither their talent tongue inside your waiting hold as you take her out for a ride. Muffled moans against your dripping cunt sends shivers throughout your spine, body twitching as you feel yourself hurling closer to the edge. 

You can’t help but ride her face as your head lies on the bundle of curves covering her mound and you’ve been too fucked out the entire time to do anything but you can’t help but notice the way her patient cunt is shining with her slick. Curiosity blooms within you as you notice the slight thrust of her hips, chasing a part of you that isn’t there. 

With no sudden warning, you vigorously rub on her wet folds, applying pressure on her bundle of nerves as you spread her sweet juices along her puffed lips. 

“Baby, nghhh, oh my god.” Abby slurps as she sucks your clit into her mouth before you fall right over the edge again. Her eager tongue fucks your through it with her tongue, letting your ride the high as your nails scratch her stomach, marking her as yours once again. 

Abby helps your weak body slide down her legs, flipping you over as your pussy falls against her, her legs spread open as your head rests against her sternum, feeling the increased rate of her heart beat thump against her chest. 

She smooths her hand over your hair, gorgeous hypnotic eyes pull at Abby’s heart. “We should get some sleep.” 

“We can…unless you want to entertain a thought I’m having.” Abby raises her eyebrow as rotate your hips, clit bumping against hers as she throws her head back, a string of curses fall from her lips as she grips onto your hips. Happily, she lets you take control, pushing her strong leg over your shoulder as you glide against her soaked pussy. 

“Oh fuck, fuck, holy fucking shit—” 

Perfect tits bouncing as you rock your hips against her movement, the more you look in her eyes, you feel yourself yearning for another release. It’s never been this good, never with anyone. The moans she whispers, kept in the secret coven of your love, the spells she casts to keep you near — it trumps anything you’ve ever felt. 

“Keep looking at me, Abigail.” The whine of her full name, only ever falling from your lips, the most wonderful symphony. It’s intoxicating how much she loves it. How much she loves you. Deep in her bones, even if she tries her best to pull away, she knows not a damn thing will ever compare to this. For this life and the next, she’ll be searching for you in everyone she meets. 

She can’t live another moment with you. Not after ten years of agony, fuck no, she needs you like she needs oxygen to breathe. You’re not sure how long it takes, but you don’t forget how Abby looks at you with a tender heart that basically pours out of her. 

“Baby, please. N-N-gh, I need you.” You push her forward, hitting a deeper angle than you were before until you hear just how wet she is with your forehead pressed against hers, “Show me how my pretty girl comes, yeah? Need a reminder, princess.” 

Abby moans out your name, her body fucking up into you, slithering her convulsing cunt against your clit as her defined abdomen twitches and only relaxes when you follow her lead, you body collapsing on her. Two hearts beats become one as the two of you fall asleep, a quiet whisper of I love you, but you’re not sure if it falls from your lips or hers. 

The morning air breathes lilies and fresh espresso, her sweet cinnamon cologne lingers in her sheets, where she held you all night with her heavenly embrace. Reality sinks in and then you’re afraid once again. You slip one of her button up shirts on, pulling on a pair of her sweats before your feet are met with the cool wooden floors. 

She’s sitting there, those stupid glasses she apparently didn’t get rid of. Making her look stupid cute as she read the velvet-green covered book in her large palms. 

It’s easy for her to tell how you feel, Abby knows you too well as she watches you with cautious eyes. You’re so afraid of it all. Always, you’ve been afraid of what she makes you feel, how close she pushes you to the edge of no return. A love you feel helpless to, especially when it eats you from the inside out. 

“Do you wanna leave? I can take you home.” Abby doesn’t even look up from her book, she sounds annoyed, completely different than her vulnerable demeanor last night. It puzzles you when she closes herself off. 

“Am I missing something? Did I do something wrong?” 

Abby folds her book, marking the page on the sharp corner before she takes off her glasses. “You don’t owe me anything if that’s what you’re worried about. You felt like you didn’t before. You in all your city glory.” 

Something happened. 

“Abby, what’s going on?” 

“You tell me.” She places your phone on the table and it’s the email detailing of your new book tour in Europe. One that lasts the better part of the year. 

“You snooped through my phone?” 

“I didn’t mean to, I thought it was mine, okay? I would never do that.” Abby sighs, “I really didn’t mean to fucking look. I just, it’s happening all over again, I’m losing you over something. I’m never what you pick and I can’t ever be enough for you. Even Hazel was right! All you do is hurt me and it’s my fault because I let you. I can’t keep chasing you. It’s a stupid dream I’m too dumb enough to let go of.” 

“So, that’s it? Last night was just what? A mistake?” 

“I didn’t say that—” 

“But you did! Fuck, I should have known things wouldn’t change.” 

“You should have known? This is the same reason why you left me. I’ll lose you, again, to something I can’t compete with. The both of us know it to be true. At least have the decency to admit it.” 

“Do you want me to apologize? I did what I wanted! I have everything I wanted. This is everything I’ve worked towards for the best ten years—” 

“But you don’t—” Abby puffs out her chest, standing taller than she has since you’ve been back. The words spill just like you did the night before, “You didn’t get everything, you made sure of it the moment you left me behind.” 

Abby has backed you into a corner, stalking you like you’re her prey but this isn’t how she wants everything to be. Looking into your dreary eyes, she’s transported back to when you shattered her heart, splitting into pieces that no longer fit. The harder she tries to piece them back, the more jagged she becomes. 

“I don’t want this. I’ve let go of it.” 

I let go of you, sounds entirely too painful to say. 

“That’s your plan? To pretend none of this has happened?” Abby’s tongue prods the inside of her cheek, a cocky smirk flashes your way. “Look at how well it turned out the first time.” 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Your arms cross over your chest, attempting to create some distance between the two of you, but Abby only closes you in. 

“Why do you still wear it?” 

“What are you talking about?” 

Abby reaches for your hand, you untangle your limbs, the pad of her thumb loving running over the silky skin. Her calloused hand feels rough, just as it always has, but it also feels right. 

The silver ring on your pinky, the one you lost and the one your father had conveniently found. But it was never him who located your perfect gem, nope. Not at all. Just Abby’s biggest fan, besides Hazel. 

The reminder of her leaves a sour taste saturating your tongue, but you have no right. It's her friend, and just because you’re not fond of her, doesn’t mean a thing. You’re just a ghost still lingering in her life. Even if she answers there’s nothing, Hazel looks at her like you used to. When the same protectiveness switched into high gear last night, she only thought of how much you would do the exact same thing Hazel did if the roles were reversed. 

Just maybe, not as cruel. 

Abby takes the ring off your thumb, it shines in the dim lighting in the room.

“The day I fell in love with you, three months into our relationship, I gave it to you. Do you remember what I said?” 

Simply, you nod. 

“Wear this for as long as you love me and when you’ve taken it off, I’ll know we’re truly done.” Abby hums, your eyes shut as her thigh wedges between your legs but it only rests there. “But I hope you wear it forever.” 

“Then let go of me, give it back, throw it away, but stop acting like you might still feel the same. I’m tired of being played. You know how much this ring means to me. Don’t leave me, again.” 

It’s a cop out for what she really wants to say, the both of you know it is, but you have the decency to let it swarm past without making a single comment. 

She’s begging for mercy. She’s tired. The lines on her skin are an indication of the hours she spends in the sun and the time passing by, engaging you in a never-ending tsunami of Abigail Anderson’s love. 

“Abigail—” You say her name like it’s a curse, a spell you keep casting to make her fall deeper in your endless abyss. “Just because it seems like a good idea doesn’t mean it’ll work out. What makes this time any different?” 

You slid away from her, needing to breathe, you can’t think when she’s too close. Serendipity finds home into honey blues, working its magic until she finds purchase in your heart once again. You’d let her get too close, more than you should let her allow. 

Abby, the heart. 

You, the head. 

The dreamer. The thinker. Forever intertwined by the deadly kiss of fate. 

“But if it did? What if we did?” 

Abby doesn’t want to beg, but she is. She learned her lesson the first time. She said nothing all those years ago, letting you take the relationship the two of you had by the reigns, your cruelty being the fatal blow to what the two of you had worked so hard to build. Naivety crushed the future right in front of her — the one she regularly dreams of. 

Each what if connected like constellations in the sky, each one just as bright as the next, Abby can’t make of which she wants. But Abby has always known it to be true, this has always been it for her but you’re so afraid. 

Still petrified to be loved. 

“I can’t let myself go through it again, if we didn’t? I can’t just—” You begin pacing, trying to get yourself into a position to clear your mind. The hope she has, it could kill you in your sleep. “I fucked up, okay? Last night shouldn’t have happened. I needed something and I used you. Is that what you want to hear? Will that satisfy you enough?” 

“I want the goddamn fucking truth, Cherry. Stop with the lies. Tell me you want this to end because you don’t love me anymore, or that you want to go on this book tour, not because you fucked up. I don’t care if you fucked me because you needed your clit sucked for the night. Tell me the truth, Cherry, please.” 

“Stop calling me that.” 

Abby chuckles maliciously, “Why? You don’t like to remember when you were in love, the only time you ever were happy, the only time you ever let anyone get close to you?” 

She attempts to get closer to you but you dodge her and walk to the other side of the room. 

“You’re quite literally running away from me. Anything but facing the truth, right?” Abby sighs into her hands. The muscles in her body are exhausted, her heart is over spent, and her mind is filled with you. Even if she doesn’t want it to be. “Do you think I want this? To feel like this? To put my heart on the line when you clearly show that you’ll discard it every damn time? Do you think this is enjoyable for me?” 

“Then stop! I’m not asking you to, just let me leave, let me go.” 

“Let the ring go.” Somehow, in your heat of emotion, you grabbed it back from her and didn't realize it had been placed back on your thumb. “You know it was my mom’s, how could you so selfishly keep this?” 

“What?” 

Fuck. Abby runs her hands through her hair,  gripping so tightly her sunkissed knuckles turn white from nearly being pulled from the root. 

“But you said this was—” 

“I lied! I was eighteen and scared shitless, okay? I didn’t want you to—” 

“You didn't want me to….?” 

Abby sighs rubbing her hand over her face, a habit she seemed to pick up in your presence. “If I tell you, you’re just going to run.” 

You grimace, tearing up as you look at the ring, it means so much to her and all this time she was perfectly fine with thinking you got rid of it. Abby never so much as asked for it back. But everything feels more final with the ring in hand, the shining promise of something more. But the naivety of youth chilled her bones, made her believe that love like this comes and goes. It goes. And goes. And goes. 

It never comes. 

“Do you want it back?” You dodge whatever omission she was about to let fall. It’s what you do best. Avoiding the future — she’s always been ominous, constantly you’re scared to believe in the faith of her undying love. The forgiveness of her heart pours like an overflowing well. Abby teeters you along the line of grace you don’t quite deserve.   

“No.”  Abby sighs before she brings herself close to you. “I want you back, Cherry. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted as much as you. When you left, everyone told me it’s just because you're my first love. Time heals all, right? But it doesn’t. Despite your best efforts, I’ll always love you. You’re—” 

You take a step closer to her, “I’m what?”

“You’re the love of my life. If you walk at that door, it’ll take the rest of my life to fill the gap you leave. But if you don’t love me, then please, put me out of my misery and just leave.” 

Abby looks down at the wood floors, tears collecting in her eyes as she expects you to walk out the front door, leaving her in the dust. But the slam of her front door never comes, instead you sink down on your knees resting your head on her knee, waiting for her to look down at you. 

“What?” Abby grunts. 

“There was this cute, really nerdy blonde girl, she puked on prom night, crying over some straight girl and somehow I managed to fall in love with her despite all odds but you know what the real kicker is?” You intertwined her hands with her, your head tilting to the side as your dreamily looked into sunny-blues, sticking to you like honey,

“I never, ever stopped.”

[caffeinewitchcraft]

The Mayor's Daughter and the Outlaw

Summary: After ten years, you've finally got your shot at your revenge. You've found the Hero. You have him in your sights.

-----

Pull the trigger.

You’ve worked too hard not to pull the trigger. The sweat, blood and tears you’ve shed have been the least you’ve given to be here. The air is crisp and clean nearly a hundred feet up in a pine tree overlooking a remote forest. You’re probably the only person in the world capable of spotting the brown, camouflaged building spanning the length of the small river running through the valley. There’s a hologram of the river it’s covering playing over the building’s walls. Hell, there are even birds flicking occasionally across the illusion, not often enough to draw attention, but just often enough their movement sends your eyes darting to other trees, trying to find where they went.

You breathe in the scent of sun-heated sap so slowly that it takes a solid minute for your lungs to expand. Your pupils flex and adjust whenever the wind rocks your tree. The window you’ve been staring at for the past hour remains in your focus.

The Sun, hair just as fake-gold as it was ten years ago, sleeps on. He’s definitely older now that you can see him in real life instead of on magazine covers or under studio lights. The skin of his neck is loose and folded under the weight of his chin drooping towards his chest. His eyes flicker under his eyelids. The bastard still has the audacity to dream. His arms are crossed over the sun motif emblazoned across his breastplate, his dust-covered boots kicked up on his desk so you can see how worn the soles are. Judging by the way his lips tremble, he’s snoring.

Pull the trigger.

You exhale. This is when you should do it. When your shoulders drop and the wind dies so that, for a moment, the world stands still. There are no whispers across the canopy. Every bough is frozen. The reflection of the sun in the river is overcome by a well-timed cloud and the Sun’s head tilts back to expose the long line of his throat.

The trigger presses back against your finger like an eager puppy. There’s nothing special about the bullets, nothing special about this gun. It’s not the right weapon for what you’re asking it to do, but you’ve had longer and harder shots. You know that you’ll shoot true and the confidence steadies your hand even more. You smoothly pull--

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back.

Your pupils dilate at the memory. For a moment you don’t see the Sun; you see her with her face burned as red as her prom dress. You try to dispel the image, try to remember that she didn’t die in her prom dress, but it’s too late.

I want you to live, Elian.

You’re suddenly aware of how your lungs ache and your legs burn from the way they’re wrapped around the tree and the bark is digging into your cheek and your fingers are like ice on the trigger. You’re out in the middle of nowhere. This is the Sun’s private residence. The security must be insane even if there doesn’t seem to be anyone else around. What’s your exit strategy again? Your thoughts scatter as her voice rings through your head again.

More than anything, I want you to live.

-------Ten years ago----

You’re what the heroes tactfully call a nuisance. A juvenile delinquent with powers, aka a kid that the police aren’t equipped to handle and the local Hero chapter is too overqualified and too understaffed to address often.

 Your moral compass has never had a true north and it only gets worse the more your powers develop. Soon you aren’t just stealing your mom’s car – you’re stealing the neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s and then the neighbor’s neighbor’s neighbor’s until you’re breaking into houses at the top of the hill and joyriding in a car worth more than your entire neighborhood together.

You find out pretty quickly that the heroes care a lot more when money is involved.

You spend your first night in jail after getting chased for three hours in a neon green lambo by the four heroes packed like sardines in a standard issue SUV. It’s laughably easy to out-drive them, choking around corners and careening down alleys that you scouted in the afternoon. Honestly, it would have been easy to get away, but your mom called just as the tank hit empty, asking when you were coming home.  You decided to give the heroes a break before they decided to play too rough with a minor.

Mom isn’t thrilled when you tell her you won’t be home in time for school tomorrow.

You kind of expect to be sent to prison the next day when you find out just whose car you stole. The Mayor’s daughter’s car, bought new for her seventeenth birthday a month ago. There are two open secrets about the mayor. One, he’s probably one of the heroes that protect the city judging from how much he praises them every time there’s a mic nearby. Two, he loves his daughter more than anything else.

So when you’re released the next day with a slap on the wrist? Yeah, you’re surprised.

When you’re released the next day to find the golden-haired, blue-eyed Mayor’s daughter waiting outside? Having just bailed you out?

You feel fear for the first time.

“You could have at least crashed it,” she says when she notices you gaping at her from the end of the parking lot. She’s leaning against the hood of a black SUV that looks a lot like the one the heroes chased you in last night. She waves a hand in the air. “Dad says the dents you put in the side will be out by tomorrow.”

Fear, apparently, makes you snarky. “What, you wanted to spend another week getting chauffeured by a hero?”

Her brows jerk up towards her hairline. She throws a glance over her shoulder. “You seeing ghosts? Nobody’s in there. I drove myself.”

“Good for you,” you say. You think you smell. They didn’t give you access to a shower last night. You’re upwind from her and damnit why are you embarrassed if you smell or not? Your chin jerks forward in a challenge. “You gonna give me a ride back home?”

You’re joking, but she nods like it was the plan all along. “Let’s go.”

Is that an answering challenge in her words? Your teeth grind as you force yourself forward. “Very kind of you,” you chirp, swinging up into the passenger seat. The car smells like leather and justice. “Just drop me off on the other side of the train tracks. I can find my way home from there.”

She snorts. “Is that a Footloose reference? Very dated.”

You stare at her profile. “…No. I literally live on the other side of the tracks.”

She flushes. “Right. Well…I’m not dropping you off yet. I want to talk first.”

The doors are locked. You swallow as she carefully pulls out of the parking lot and then guns it into the road without looking. Luckily, no one’s there. “Talk? About what?”

“About how you’re going to steal my car again,” she says. “And this time you’re going to crash it right.”

“You hate the color that much?” you joke.

Her tone is not joking. “You have no idea.”

You don’t find out her name until dinner when your mom’s managed to entice her into a third slice of homemade pizza. She stares down at the slice while your mom waves for you not to stay up too late before going to bed early. Gamely, you’re already on your fifth helping. Criminal activity takes a lot of energy.

“Does your mom know who I am?” she asks.

“Like, in theory,” you say. You’re full and warm as you lean into the hard wooden back of your chair. Mom added olives to your side of the pizza. “She probably doesn’t know you’re the Mayor’s daughter though. Just that he has one.”

“The Mayor…right,” she says. Her jaw firms. She flicks some olives off her pizza and then eats half the slice in one bite. “I’m Gina.”

“Elian,” you say instead of No, you’re the Mayor’s Daughter. You refill her soda cup before your own, just to show her you can be fancy and have manners too. She’s so out of place in your family’s one bedroom apartment. Her shirt is crisp and white, her gold necklace so shiny, that it’s like there’s a sepia filter over the eggshell walls and oak cabinets. “Sprite. Only the finest for the lady who bailed me out.”

“I’m thinking you can take my car next weekend,” Gina says so abruptly you nearly spit out your soda. There’s a hard light in her eyes. “Dad’s out of town for…business. He won’t notice for a few days. You take it, you get out of the city, you drive it off a cliff once you’ve wrecked it doing donuts or whatever.”

“A cliff?” You know exactly where she’s talking about. There’s an abandoned quarry about an hour outside of town. You shake your head. “That’s where people dump bodies. No way am I going out there.”

“They find bodies there because it’s outside of Hero Force’s patrol,” Gina says. She waves her hands in the air so the yellow light from the inset ceiling lights catches on her golden manicure. “If you think about it, it’s the best place to dump a car. Especially when the heroes are going to be out of town.”

You stare at her. “Did you just admit your dad is part of Hero Force?”

Her eyes skitter away from yours. “No.”

“Your dad is out of town next weekend.”

“Yes.”

“And the heroes?”

“Maybe they’re traveling together.”

“I don’t think anyone is supposed to know when the heroes are going to be out of town. Isn’t that like a national secret, or something?”

“We’re not a big enough chapter for it to be a national secret,” she denies. She bites her lip. “Probably a state secret though.”

You stand and your chair chatters against the linoleum. “No. Absolutely not.” It’s time for Ms. Mayor’s Daughter to leave.

She scrambles up after you, following you into the living room. “Why not?! You already mess with the heroes. Weren’t you the one who kept breaking into the mall on a motorcycle? You hijacked one of their delivery trucks a month ago—”

“A food delivery truck,” you say. “Which was more of a commentary about the city’s investment in Hero Force luxury rather than after school programs—” You bite your tongue. You spin so that the couch stays between you. You glance at your mom’s closed door and consciously lower your voice. “How do you even know that?”

“I’ve been watching you,” she says. She laughs without humor, dragging one hand through her golden hair. “Sometimes living in this town is like being in a simulation. We have four A-class heroes for a population of 30,000 and everybody loves them. Nobody thinks it’s strange to have walking nukes in a small town. They love my dad. Did you know no one’s even run against him for the past two elections? It doesn’t matter what he does. He owns this place and these people. He has – could commit murder and it would be justified. People would think it would be justice.”

“He loves you,” you say weakly. Isn’t four heroes a pretty normal number? Sure, the ones in your town are big names, but that’s not weird.

Is it?

“He loves me so he gets to be a tyrant?” Gina scoffs. “If he’s even capable of love.”

“I’m not going to mess around with heroes’ civilian identities just because you’ve got daddy issues,” you say. When hurt flashes across her face, you wince. “Sorry. But it’s one thing to mess with heroes in masks, okay? Messing with a hero’s family—”

“You didn’t seem to have a problem when you were stealing my car the other night.”

“That was before I knew your dad was Mr. Solve or whatever—”

“The Sun,” Gina says.

“What?”

“My dad’s the Sun.”

“That,” you say, “is so much worse. Didn’t he burn some minor villain’s eyes out last week?”

“Yes,” Gina says. Her mouth twists. “The guy got off easy compared to some others.”

You stare at her, momentarily speechless. “And you wonder why I’m not going to antagonize the guy?”

“But you already do,” Gina says. Her eyes are glinting. She looks so out of place against the dim interior of your home, a radiant girl dressed all in white and gold. She rounds the couch and snatches up one of your hands between two of her own. “Everyone else loves my dad. Except you. My entire life, and you’re the only one who dares to make—make statements about Hero Force consumption by stealing their deliveries or make the heroes chase you around an abandoned mall on foot like regular people. You challenge them, Elian. All I’m asking is that you do it again.”

“That sounds like a lot more than just crashing your car,” you say. Your voice sounds very far away. You never thought of your actions as so noble. There’s a tingling in your stomach that you’ve never felt before and your hand is so warm. She sees you. You shake the fantasy out of your head. “I—look. I’m flattered, but I’m not your guy. The heroes know my face. It’s only a matter of time before I get sent to whatever detention super-powered kids get sent to. I have to graduate high school.”

Rather than discourage her, Gina presses closer. “What if I told you there’s a way to do both?”

Her closeness fogs your brain. “Both?”

“Take the heroes down a notch and maintain your identity,” she says. She releases you and whirls to get her purse off the couch. “I can help you. We can train so that the heroes never recognize the new you. You can use your powers in new ways. And you can wear this.”

She thrusts a piece of chewed leather into your hands. A mask.

“I’m thinking,” she says, “we call you Outlaw.”

------ Now ----

You can’t shoot. Night is falling by the time you admit it to yourself. You press your back against the rough bark of the tree and stare up at the first stars. You cradle your gun in your hands.

The bloodlust is still there. You aren’t a fair lily incapable of staining your petals red (as red as her). So why can’t you pull the trigger? Because of her ghost? Her last message to you?

If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back. More than anything, I want you to live, Elian.

You grind your teeth. Easy for her to say. The dying never have to feel the weight of consequence. They can just say whatever the fuck they want.

You aren’t thinking when you climb down the tree. Your powers give you a lot of things – speed and healing, an instinct for the outdoors, and excellent eyesight. You don’t need to look to find one branch and another, dropping to the forest floor in ten-foot increments. By the time your boots hit the ground, you know what the problem is.

Unlike your other kills, this one is personal. It was never going to be enough just to see him dead. You need him to know why you’ve got him in your sights.

The Sun is an old school hero. The traps you were so afraid of are predictable, turns out. You pick your way around bear traps and landmines, sharp eyes easily picking out silver trip wire when it glints in the moonlight. There are cameras, but there’s likely only one person with access. In the past ten years of following the Sun, you’ve learned two things about him.

One, he’ll kill the things he loves before he loses them.

Two, he doesn’t trust anyone but himself.

You get to the building inside of an hour. The first floor is hidden by steel shutters and there’s no light peeking out from behind them. The second floor window where he’d been sleeping for most of the day shines with the faint blue glow of a television.

The front door looks like a bank’s with how thick it is. There’s a keypad and a biometric scanner you don’t have a prayer of hacking.

That’s okay. You’ve already seen your way in.

You climb up the nearest pine tree. The Sun likes to think of himself as a competent hero, but too many mayoral kickbacks over the years made him soft. He surrounded himself with powerful heroes and never once struggled to win. Because of that, he’s missing some caution and common sense. The building’s first floor is locked up tight, but the windows on the second are regular glass.

And he hasn’t trimmed the tree line back far enough.

You fire your first shot of the night into his empty desk chair, exactly where his chest had been hours earlier. Immediately a siren sounds, and the TV glow coming through the office’s open door is consumed by bright light. You run two steps and then leap, neatly flipping through the empty window frame. Your boots slide for a moment on the broken glass and you catch yourself on the edge of his desk. There are medical papers scattered across it, prescriptions and diagrams of the face and eyes and heart.

You chew your cheek at the sight of a pill bottle. There had been rumors that the Sun is sick with his own radiation poisoning. It’s good you’re here before nature runs its course.

The siren wails for another beat before dying. The silence rings. Your heartbeat picks up as your ears strain to hear if anyone’s coming to meet you. Strange. The Sun had to have been the one who shut off the alarm.

So where is he?

You hold your gun out in front of you and check your mask. The Sun knows who you are by now, but you want him to see the mask she gave you. The handsewn leather, patched more times than you can count, is recycled from one of his old leather jackets. It feels oddly poetic to be dressed in the first iteration of your costume, cowboy hat tipped back and a biker vest embroidered with the name she gave you.

Is the Sun hiding? You creep out of the office, eyes darting from the quaint landscapes hanging on the wall to the tasteful wooden floors. The Sun’s safe house feels more cabin-y than you expected. The property deed has been in his name for the past fifteen years. Did Gina ever visit? Her ghost runs ahead of you, golden nails dragging along the peach wallpaper to the first open door on the left. She looks over her shoulder and smiles.

There are times when you’re glad for the afterimages your brain conjures. This is not one of those times. You don’t think she’d be happy to see what you’re about to do.

You swing around the doorway gun first, a snarl on your lips. “You old bastard, drop what—”

The smell of antiseptic hits your nose first, dashing away the red haze filling your vision in an instant. A TV murmurs against the wall, some rerun of an old western, but it’s not what holds your attention.

There’s a bed in the center of the room. The Sun sits at bedside, his attention wholly invested on the hand he’s holding up. Carefully, he applies gold paint to the nails without once looking up at you.

The woman in the bed is obscured with white gauze and beige compression bandages. Her breathing is soft and even. The one eye you can see is closed and still. No dreaming, no awareness.

“Outlaw,” the Sun says. He gently sets Gina’s left hand down on her stomach and picks up her right. He squints at her pinky nail. “Close the office door, would you? I don’t want the heat to escape.”

“What,” you breathe, “the fuck.”

-----Ten years ago ----

It’s a good year with Gina. You never realized how friend-starved you were until she was there, over at your house every day after school. She always makes it sound like she’s coming over to talk about the Outlaw thing, but there’s other stuff too. Movies and cooking and tutoring.

“Life is about balance,” Gina says sagely during one such tutoring session. “Besides, even heroes don’t go on more than two missions a month. We’re doing just fine.”

There’s always a pressing need to do more though. Whenever you pull off a particularly daring heist, she smiles this secret and pleased smile that makes your stomach flip. Sometimes, when the two of you watch news coverage of your getaways, she murmurs how impressed she is, how smart you are, how cool your powers are.

It makes you want to do anything for Gina.

You’re watching the news one day, waiting for a recap of how you stole the Sun’s favorite shield from the armory, when a rare story comes on. A Hero is dead, some guy named Ibis from Atlanta. There aren’t any leads to the culprit except for eyewitness accounts of a mysterious, winged super-powered individual flying low over the city, hiding in storm clouds.

“I’d kill a Hero,” you blurt out.

Gina jerks so hard that the popcorn bowl goes flying out of her hands. She doesn’t seem to notice. “What?”

“N-not your dad or anything,” you say quickly although yes, if you had to kill anyone, you’d start with the man who makes Gina cry like that. “Just…in general. The news anchor said Ibis was connected to a civilian’s death, right? I could kill a Hero like that.”

“No,” Gina says. She drops off the couch to kneel by you. “No, Elian.”

You flush like you’ve done something wrong. You sink into your hoodie. “I’m not going to, I’m just saying—”

“If you kill a Hero, there’s no going back,” Gina says. She’s too close, so close that you can see the flecks of gold hidden in her eyes. “Your life—it’s not like what we’ve been doing. Dad’s got rules when it comes to stealing. But if you kill a hero?” She shudders. “I want you to live, Elian.”

“I got it—”

“Please,” she blurts out. The plea in her voice makes you really look at her despite the pounding of your heart. Her eyes are wild and her mouth is pressed into a thin line. “No matter what. Promise me.”

“I—” No matter what? You slowly shake your head, trying to get away from the instinctive desire to agree with her. “I-if someone is really bad, I’d—”

“Elian—”

The tension makes you truthful.

“If your dad hurt you, I’d kill him,” you say. When she rears back, this time you follow. You brace your arm against the couch so you can lean into her space. With your other hand, you trace the fading burn on her cheek that could pass for an old sunburn if you didn’t know the truth. “I know you don’t think he will, but he’s been erratic lately. And I know about his temper. If he hurts you, I’d kill him.”

The air thickens between you. It’s rare that you don’t back down, but you’re not backing down now, staring into her eyes. Competing wills. For a moment you let everything you feel come to the surface. Your frustration when she visits with that fucking shadow in her smile, the helplessness when there’s another burn on her arm, the adoration when she’s just there.

Gina shudders and looks away first. She licks her lips. “I—I…appreciate what you’re saying, but I’m fine. You agreed I got to make the rules for Outlaw. I’m telling you one. Don’t kill heroes.”

She’s pulling away. You do too, falling to her side and sitting next to her rather than hovering over her. You try for a careless shrug but fall short. How can she make you feel so powerful one second and so powerless the next? You avert your eyes. “I won’t kill heroes,” you promise.

You hear her suck in a breath. “Good. Because I need you alive.”

“I do like being alive,” you say and don’t finish the sentence with with you.

“We’re done studying,” she decides. She darts up towards the kitchen. “I’m getting another bowl of popcorn before we start the movie. You want some?”

You stare at your reflection in the dark TV. Your jaw works. Finally, you say, “Nah. I’m good. I’ll just eat it off the floor.”

“Don’t be gross, Elian!”

------Now.----

“I will regret that day for the rest of my life,” the Sun says. He hasn’t looked at you once. His eyes are glued to the steady rise and fall of Gina’s chest. He times his breathing to hers and then sighs. “What a fool I was. Drunk on power.”

You’re standing on the opposite side of the bed. Your gaze flicks from Gina to him and back again. “Is she ever conscious?”

“It’s a medically-induced coma,” the Sun says. “The doctors say she should wake up any day now that most of her injuries have healed. Her last surgery was the final one. Now it’s up to her.”

This might be the first time in ten years that you’ve breathed. You suck in air greedily and imagine you can taste her scent under the layers of sickness and medicine. “They told me she died.”

“I told Hero Force you did it,” the Sun says. There’s no remorse in his voice. “They always tell villains they were successful, so they don’t try again.”

A decade of rage slides around your ribs. “You fucking bastard.”

“I did think it was your fault ten years ago.” He carefully picks up Gina’s left hand again to apply a second coat. It takes all your willpower not to slap him away from her. “If you hadn’t stolen Hero Force data, I wouldn’t have had to come after you with my full power. She would never have been in the line of fire.”

You’re fists shake at your sides. “I didn’t steal Hero Force data, I stole your fucking car. Don’t rewrite history.”

“There was Hero Force data in that car.”

“It was your Porsche, your civilian Porsche!”

“My fault to have left sensitive data out,” the Sun says. His confession surprises you into silence. “But I had to get it back no matter what. Then I blamed you by thinking how if you’d only asked me to take my daughter to Prom, I would’ve known she was in the car.”

“She’s not your property and it’s not the 1800s, of course I didn’t ask if I could take your daughter to—”

“I’m telling you what I thought,” the Sun interrupts. He finally looks at you. He looks worse than he did earlier, the years cutting deep lines into his face. There are black bags of exhaustion under his watering eyes. He breathes out shakily. “I had to tell myself it was your fault. It was the only way I could survive, Elian.”

Your real name shocks you. You stumble back. “How do you know that name?”

“She calls for you sometimes,” the Sun says. He drags a hand over his face before grimly returning to his daughter’s nails. “She’s never been really conscious for long. The d-damage took a long time to heal. But when she’s awake, she calls for you and she calls for Outlaw. Wasn’t hard to put the pieces together.”

Your chest throbs. “I should have been here. You should have—I could have—”

“Blaming you let me keep her by my side,” the Sun says. “I don’t expect you to forgive me or even understand me. But I…I regret more than anything what I’ve done to my daughter.”

“You’re going to regret it even more,” you say. The rage you feel is like a tidal wave. Ten years. Ten years. You could have held her hand through her recovery. You could have been there for her. And this selfish asshole who never even loved her like a father should took that away from you. You remember your gun. “You never deserved to be her father.”

“I didn’t, did I?” the Sun asks. He sets her hand down and swallows hard. He looks down the barrel of your gun without flinching. “She says one other thing, you know. When she asks for you.”

The curiosity stills your trigger finger. “What?”

“She says, Don’t kill heroes.”

Your face contorts. There’s the memory of popcorn in your mouth and the heat of her eyes on you. “Yeah, she said that to me before too. Back when I offered to kill you the first time.”

The Sun hangs his head. If he’s surprised to hear that, he doesn’t show it. “I wasn’t a good father.”

“No. But she didn’t want you dead.”

Understanding dawns. “Don’t kill heroes.”

“Exactly.” You tilt your head. “Do you feel like a hero?”

His lips tremble. His gaze drifts back to his daughter. Her eyes are flickering under eyelids. “I—I—”

The trigger presses back against your finger, eager and ready. “Do you?”

He licks his lips. “N-no,” he whispers. He closes his eyes. “No, I don’t suppose I do.”

This time, it’s easy to take aim. Steady your breath. And—

Fuck.

“Leave,” you say. You drop your gun back to your side and scowl when the Sun’s eyes fly open in surprise. “If you do what I say, you’ll live long enough for Gina to decide what to do with you. Leave and don’t tell anyone about this.”

The Sun shakes his head. “No, no I can’t leave her—”

“Then die here,” you snap. You bare your teeth at him. “Leave. We’ll be gone in a week. Maybe she wakes up and calls you. Maybe she—” You take a deep breath. “Well. Maybe she doesn’t. Either way, your part is done here.”

“I need to be there when she wakes up. Please, I’m her dad—”

“You’re her murderer,” you say. More than anything, you want to pick Gina up and run out of here before the Sun can stop you. You eye the monitors and know three people you need to call for advice before you even attempt to move her. A week should be just enough time to disappear. “You think you deserve to stay by her side?”

The Sun opens his mouth twice before he finds words. “I just—let me stay until she wakes up. That way I’ll know.”

“I spent ten years thinking she was dead,” you say. “You can last a month in limbo. If I have to ask you again, we’ll finally see who’s stronger now that I’m all grown up.”

The Sun picks himself up slowly. You think he cries. You’re not sure. He may even plead with you again. You’re deaf to it. Your brain has given up on splitting your attention and every atom of your being is homed in on Gina.

She’s alive. She’s alive.

You kneel at her bedside and wait for her to wake up.

----

Thanks for reading! If you want to read more of work or get access to stories like this a week (or more!) early, please consider checking out my Patreon (X)! This week's short story for my Triple Shot and above tiers is about a world where being loved adds years to your lifespan!

Based off this prompt (X): Love determines how long you live, some people are in their hundreds, but some don’t even live to be 20.

[pinejayy]

╰➤ A Helping Hand

paring: trafalgar law x f!reader ,, implied relationship

summary: law is locked away in his office as usual and he seems stressed out, and you offer a helping hand and mouth to relieve his stress.

warnings: dry humping, handjob, blowjob, dirty talking, teasing, fingering, hair pulling, face fucking, eating out.

✦•·················• 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃!! •·················•✦

Once again your boyfriend Law was hidden away in his office doing paperwork…Again. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten alone time with your boyfriend.

At the moment the crew was doing their daily work around the ship and you were helping Bepo clean the deck. And you couldn’t help but think about your boyfriend, looking around. Bepo was clearly distracted…the bear was taking a nap on the floor. Which gave you an idea. If he was getting a break then maybe you should get one too. Smirking to yourself, you sneak away and walking towards his office.

You knock on the door and he didn’t reply, and you slowly open the door and Law was working as usual. Again? How much paper work does someone have? Watching him you could tell he was stressed out. Maybe you could give him a helping hand.

Walking into his office, and locking the door behind you. "Hello Captain."

"Why aren't you doing your chores with Bepo?" He said, not even sparing you a glance. You couldn't help but roll your eyes at his comment. Walking towards him, he seemed really focused on his work. So you decided to wiggle your way onto his lap. Sitting, which earned a soft sigh from Law. He placed a small kiss against your check. "Need something, I'm busy at the moment. I need to finish this report.."

As he spoke he seemed uneasy and stressed. "Paperwork again?" You spoke softly and Law just nodded at your words. "It's always paperwork with you, you need a small break. You look like you're all stressed and pent up."

Which was true, Law tends to avoid any needs or getting breaks because of 'paperwork'.

"Well sorry to break it to you but that's the life of a Captain..." Mumbling softly at your words. He placed one hand on your thigh and gave you a firm squeeze. While he was still working and writing away.

"Why would a pirate even need to do paperwork? It's not like you're turning it in to someone." You say softly, leaning in and nuzzling your face to his neck. Taking in his secent. "You're probably the only pirate who does this boring stuff."

Law couldn't help but squeeze your thigh more, being this close to you is making him uneasy...he needed something but duty comes first. "I'm just making sure everything runs smoothly on the polar tang, I need to do this paperwork." He gave a quick glance before going back to his paperwork.

You stay quite, the room was filled with his soft mumbling and the pen against the paper. He really did seem uneasy. Which gave you an idea..

"Aww Captain. May I offer a helping hand."

"No, no offense Y/N...but if I allow you to help me out with the paperwork you'll only make it worse and I'll have to work on it mo..." He began to speak but was cut off. His words seemed to be stuck on his throat.

You were moving your hips against his thigh, whimpering against his neck. Law couldn't help but feel his cock twitch. He groans softly, placing the pen down. Grabbing your hips with his hands and he held you in place. And he began moving his hips upwards. Dry humping you, and immediately you look at him and smirk. You could already feel his cock grow harder by the the second.

"I'm trying to work here and you come here and do this crap." He groans, moving his hips against yours. To which you move your hips against his making him twitch slightly.

"Aw I'm just offering a helping hand."

"Like I said ...you'll only make it worse...you can't do the paperwork properly."

To which you smirk and flick his forehead which earned you a cold look from Law. "Aw why don't I just show you what I meant." You cooed softly and place a gentle kiss against his neck and slid down and onto your knees.

"You just work Captain...and I'll be here." You say and look up at him, he watches you as you were on your needs and he sighed.

"Whatever...just hurry up."

And with that you began to undo his belt and his pants. Law lifted his butt slightly so you could pull his pants off with ease. "Just do your paperwork. Since you love it so much."

Law just grumbles at your words, but in reality he felt really pent up. His cock twitched slightly he needed something .. anything.

You couldn't help but lick your lips as you watch his hard dick pressed against the fabric of his boxers. Slowly you wrap your fingers against the waistband and pull them down slowly. And once they were off his dick sprung up. Pre cum leaking from the head, and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the beautiful view.

He tried to focus on his work but he needed something...he was almost willing to beg. So he was tapping his foot against the floor. "Tsk Tsk Tsk Captain. Someone is very impatient. But I'm feeling like a good girl today and I won't tease you as much."

Law groans and throws his head back, enjoying himself. He did need a break after all. And since you were offering a helping hand he might as well take your offer.

You lean in and place a long and slow lick under his cock. Eyeing him and studying his reactions. And he seemed to be enjoying himself so you continue.

Dragging your tongue along his dick and rub his balls slightly. Making him groan. "Stuipd Brat...my paperwork..."

"Well be my guest. Do your paperwork since it's the only thing you do around here."

Law couldn't help but chuckle at your words. "Sounds like you're jealous of my paperwork..hmm" He teased slightly.

To which you gave his cock a small squeeze making him moan softly. "Hmm maybe a little. Because at least you do your paperwork. I don't remember the last time you did me." Adjusting yourself.

Giving his cock one more lick before spitting on it and humming softly, watching the spit drip down. "It's been lonely without you, and quite frankly my fingers and toys don't get the job done...not like you do."

He sighs and spreads his legs more, making himself comfortable. "I know I know.. I promise tonight I'll treat you real good, make you feel real good."

Biting your lip at his words. "You better keep your promise Captain." Teasing slightly and moving your hands slowly against his needy cock making him whimper softly. You couldn't help but feel the wetness between your legs grow even more, especially with his soft moans.

As you move your hand against his cock Law was moaning softly, his head against the headrest of his chair. "Good girl ..."

Making you whimper softly, moving your hands slightly faster and you look at him and god it was a beautiful sight.

"God Dammit woman... can't wait to fuck you....fuck you hard that you won't be able to walk."

His lewd words where getting to you, and you stroke him slowly. Teasing him, batting your eyelashes.

"Aw...you would want that right? Me underneath you Captain. Moaning into your ear, moaning your name out." Cooing out, your strokes getting slower and steady, making him groan at your words. He couldn't help but grab a hand full of your hair. Making you yelp softly, Law’s breathing was getting heavier by the second.

"Don't give me that innocent look...you little tease.. "

"Aw but it's true, I bet you want that Captain. I bet you need me so bad. I need you Captain. I need your cock inside of me." You keeping teasing him. Giving his cock a tight squeeze, and suddenly his grip on your hair tightened.

"Oh yeah? You want to keep running your mouth with these dirty words ya?" He growled slightly and the next words he spoke was in more of a demanding tone. His so called 'Captain Voice.' Giving your hair a slight tug before speaking up once again. “Considering you want to run that dirty mouth of yours with nonsense, let’s put that pretty little mouth to good use.” And with that Law couldn’t help but rub a thumb across your lip.

“Now be a good girl for me…and make your captain feel real good.” He said, grabbing his cock and slapping your cheek slightly. “Now open wide baby.”

Biting your lip at his words, you open your mouth and stick your tongue out. And he placed the tip of his cock against your tongue. Already tasting the salty precum against your tongue. Wrapping your lips against the tip and proceeding to suck on it slightly.

“That’s right…just like that baby. Such a good girl.” He said and leaned his head back. Enjoying himself and attention his dick is getting.

The room was filled with soft moans spilling out from Law and dirty words along with your slight muffed gags and moans. You could feel the wetness between your legs grow even more.

Moaning against him, he groans and grips your hair and guides your head to his desire pace. You continue to bob your head against him, using your tongue to press against the bottom of his cock making him moan. “Fuck…keep going…good girl.”

Law kept bobbing your head up and down, and he could tell you were desperate for something and he smirks. “Go on Princess, touch yourself.”

You wasted no time, you pulled away slightly from him which there was a small ‘pop’ sound. Not breaking eye contact with him, you slowly undo your bottoms and tug them down. Just enough for you to shove your hand into your panties. And before you could touch yourself Law spoke up. “Now I want you to maintain eye contact. Can you do that?” To which you nodded and Law grabbed his cock and slapped your check with it. “With words. Use your words.”

“Yes…Yes Captain.”

“Good..that’s a good girl.” He teased, and held his cock against your lips. “Now open up again.”

And with that you obeyed and opened up once again and took him in your mouth once again. Slowly you drag you hand into your underwear. And wasted no time playing with your clit.

Moaning around him sent a shiver across Law’s back. As you continue to bob your head up and down. You slowly inserted two fingers inside of you. Moaning even more. You desperately needed him inside of you.

Being lost into your own pleasure, Law thought that you were moving a little too slow for his liking so he held your face in place and started to thrust up. Face fucking you. Which made you gag around him.

“Relax…relax your throat…” He demanded and stopped for a moment.

Taking a deep breath, and once you relaxed he wasted no time holding your head still and using your mouth as his personal sex toy.

While he was face fucking your mouth you couldn’t help but feel more aroused by his actions. You fingers moving faster inside of you, curling your fingers slightly to get the prefect spots. Your gags and moans were music to his ears.

“I’m close…hold still ..” He moans out. And Law had to bite his lower lip from moaning out. God it’s been awhile since he’s had a release.

His thrusting where getting sloppier and that’s when you moved your fingers away from your needy pussy and you began to rub his balls. Giving them a slight squeeze. Making Law moan your name out. “God dammit Y/N….”

And with that he let out a loud moan, to which he quickly let go of your hair to cover his mouth. Cumming hard into your mouth. Spilling his warm juices against your tongue.

Swallowing every last drop he could offer.

Bobbing your head a few more times before pulling away from him. A trail of saliva and cum dripping down from your lips. Giving the head a few more kisses before Law growled and grabbed your hair and dragging you up to you feet and before you could say anything he already slammed you against the desk. Tugging your bottoms and underwear fully off. Opening your legs. Exposing your wet pussy to him and he wasted no time diving into your folds.

“Need to taste you…so badly…” Moaning into your folds.

His tongue was everything, not finding a place to pay attention. You could tell he was very desperate to taste you. And in reality you’ve never seen him this needy, especially while eating you out.

He pulls away slightly and groaned under his breath. Rubbing your clit as he watched your face reactions. He spreads your folds slightly, exposing your more. Leaning in once again, he gave you sloppy licks.

Your moans had gotten louder and Law quickly gave your clit a soft bite making you whimper.

“Shh…the crew could hear us.”

You cover your mouth and nodded. Which Law smirked and dove back into his meal. He placed your thighs on his shoulders so he could eat you out better. “So good…you taste so good.” He keeps mumbling.

Slowly he sneaks his fingers inside of your. Thrusting them in and out.

God this combination was going to make you explode. His tongue against your clit and his deadly fingers inside of you.

Law felt yours walls tightened around his fingers and he chuckled and eyes your reaction. Your eyes were locked onto his his. He wanted to see you cum. Law gave your clit a few more licks before you were already moaning his name and reaching your own climax.

“Oh captain!”

Law quickly licked your juices up and your moans didn’t seem to quite down and he growled. Moving up towards you and took your lips against his. Sharing a deep and heated kiss. Forcing his tongue to roam around your mouth.

Both tongues covered in your guys juices where now being mixed between the both of you. And both of you were loving this. Before the kiss could get even more heated he pulled away and pressed his forehead against yours.

“Thank you…I really need this.”

You were panting slightly. “Of course..I needed this too silly.” Kissing his check, and he couldn’t help but blush slightly. “I love you…I love you Law.”

Law stayed quiet and felt butterflies in his stomach. “I love you too Y/N.” He smiled and placed a kiss against your forehead.

The office was silent for awhile before he spoke up again.

“Now. About your comment from earlier. How I do more paperwork than you. Hmm how about I change that Princess.”

[fluentmoviequoter]

The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible addresses in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

[cloudybarnes]

new beginnings

Pairing: theodore nott x reader

Summary: after theo very unexpectantly breaks up with you, you try your best to pick yourself back up and move on. theo, on the other hand, seems to be having a harder time of that.

Word Count: 2.2k+

Masterlist

part two :)

✰  ✰  ✰

“(Y/N), you’ve got to get out of bed at some point.” Hermione said. She was sitting on the side of your bed while you laid fully wrapped under the covers. Hermione gently tugged the blanket down from your chin, but you whined a little in protest. 

“‘Mione, I seriously can’t do this yet.”

Theo, your boyfriend of over a year had broken up with you only a few short days ago. You’d been in bed ever since, heartbroken over what could have been. 

“(Y/N), I know you’re upset, but you have to get up. I can’t let you live the rest of your life in bed! Don’t you know how badly your bum would hurt from laying all of your life?” Hermione joked. 

A small smile grew on your lips. “Yeah, that would be pretty tragic. I have too nice of a butt to let that happen.”

Hermione laughed. “There she is! I’ve missed your little jokes. Ron and Harry have become quite boring without you around. I think they’re worried about you.” 

You groaned. “Nooo. I hate when people worry about me. It’s just so awkward when I have to be like ‘I’m fine’, ‘no really, I’m fine’.”

Hermione shrugged. “Well, are you?”

You sighed, pulling the covers down from your chin. You looked up at her, a forlorn look on your face. “Definitely not, but I suppose you’re right. I don’t want to be stuck in here for the rest of my life. I just, I just don’t think I can handle seeing him right now.”

Hermione looked at you sadly. “I know. I hate seeing you so upset like this. God, what I would do to put a hex on that boy. He’s quite deserving of it, I would say. Maybe a rat’s tail, or a snake tongue.”

You giggled and sat up in bed. “Or how about we make him bald, or worse, blonde.” 

Hermione laughed at that. “Oh, Godric, then we’d have another Draco running around. I don’t think I could handle that.”

“Me either,” you laughed. Slowly, your smile dropped. “I just hate him. Well, no, I don’t hate him. And I hate that! I hate that even after breaking my heart I still love him and long for him.”

Hermione sighed, “I’m sorry, (Y/N/N), I wish I could say something or do something to make this better, I just really don’t know what.”

You shrugged, “yeah, it is what it is. It’s not your fault he’s an ass.”

She chuckled. “So, what do you say? You wanna try to get down to the great hall before dinner starts? I’m sure the guys would like to see you again.” 

You thought it over for a minute. You really had missed your friends. Other than Hermione, you’d ostracized yourself from everyone just to avoid Theo. 

But were you really ready to see him again? You didn’t think you would ever be ready to see him again. 

“You know what,” you stated, “I am gonna go to dinner tonight. And I’m gonna ignore him and see my friends who I’ve missed and ignore the hell out of him because he’s an ass and why should I be the one who has to stay in bed all day?”

“Woohoo!” Hermione cheered. “You’re amazing, let’s get you showered and dressed. I hate to say it, but if you’re gonna get back into the world, you need to wash your hair.” 

You chuckled as you picked up a piece of hair to inspect it. “Yeah, okay. Shower first, look really pretty, eat dinner, come back. Piece of cake.” 

You pushed the covers off of you as Hermione stood from the bed. 

She said, “I’m gonna grab your clothes, so just get in the shower. We shouldn’t be too late to dinner that way.”

You nodded and headed to the bathroom. You were gonna go in there, socialize with your friends, reassure them you were fine, and everything would go back to normal. You hoped. 

✰  ✰  ✰

“(Y/N)!” Ginny shouted as you and Hermione made it to the Gryffindor table. She stood up from her seat and pulled you right into a hug. 

Releasing the breath you didn’t know you were holding, you smiled and held her even tighter in the hug. Ginny was an amazing friend to you. She had tried her best to see you, but you didn’t let anyone in. Only Hermione since she shared the room with you. 

Pulling away, Ginny dragged you to sit down next to her. Hermione followed suit and sat on the other side of you. “Oh, we’ve missed you so much, (Y/N/N). We’ve all been so worried about you, haven’t we?”

Harry and Ron sat across from you. They both nodded their heads, agreeing with Ginny. 

“Yeah, what an ass,” Ron scoffed. “Honestly, someone needs to knock that bloke down from his high horse. He doesn’t know what he’s missing, (Y/N/N).”

“Yeah,” Harry replied as he pushed some mashed potatoes in his mouth. “Theodore is a walking red flag. I for one am not sorry for him. He lost a good girl and he’s gonna regret what he’s done.”

You smiled at them. “Yeah, I am pretty awesome. Thanks guys.”

They chuckled and continued eating. Merlin knows those two could eat an entire quidditch field full of food. 

“Ahem,” a throat cleared from behind you. 

Turning around, you saw Enzo standing there sheepishly. 

“Uh,” he stuttered, “hey, (Y/N).” 

“Oh,” you said. “Uh, hi Enzo. Do you need something?” You couldn’t hide the crack in your voice. Damn it.

Enzo was probably your favorite of Theo's friends. He was always the one you had most in common with, and therefore connected with pretty easily. You’d never hung out one on one, so you couldn’t really say he was your friend. 

“I-no I don’t need something, per say. I just wanted to talk to you. Alone, if, uh, that’s alright.” 

You looked back at your friends, unsure if you should talk with him or not. They all seemed to be the same amount of weary as you were, but you were intrigued. 

“I don’t really want to talk to Theo, if that’s what this is.”

Enzo shook his head. “No! Ahem, no. I wanted to talk to you. To, uh, apologize kind of? I don’t know. It’s fine if you don’t wanna talk to me, this was silly, I’m sorry-“

“It’s fine, Enzo,” you cut off his rambling. “I’ll speak with you.” You looked back at your friends as you stood up from the table. “I’ll be right back.”

They nodded their heads as you let Enzo lead you away from the table and out the door. 

Once you two stood out in the hallway, Enzo kind of just shuffled his feet around, almost as if he was shying away from talking to you. 

“Am I supposed to say something first?” You questioned, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No, sorry,” he said as he rubbed the back of his neck. “I just feel a little awkward. I know what happened between you and Theo, but I guess I just hoped that didn’t mean we couldn’t be friends anymore.”

Your eyes softened a little at his confession. Enzo’s cheeks blushed a little as you stared at him. 

You sighed. You and Enzo really had been good friends, and you weren’t exactly keen on losing his friendship. 

“I mean,” he continued, “you’re the only one who doesn’t make fun of my poetry, you’re the one I go to when I want to talk about books or get recommendations from, and I just would hate to lose our friendship just because I’m friends with Theo as well.”

Your heart melted. “Enzo, of course I still want to be friends with you. I will admit, I was a little nervous you wouldn’t want to talk to me anymore after Theo broke up with me. I really enjoy being your friend.”

Enzo smiled in relief. “Oh good. I thought this would be more awkward and a little bit more sad than how it’s actually going.”

You giggled. “Thank god. I don’t know what I would have done if I just had a real breakup as well as a friendship breakup.”

Enzo smiled awkwardly. “Yeah, I am really sorry about that. I don’t know why he would ever break up with you in the first place. You’re so kind, and I thought you brought the best out in him.”

You forced an awkward smile. You really did not want to be talking about Theo right now, especially not about how you made him a better person. 

Before you could reply, a voice yelled out from behind you. 

“Oi!”

Turning around, you could see Theo storming up towards you and Enzo. 

“What the fuck, mate?” Theo huffed as he got in between you and Enzo. 

“Woah!” You shouted, backing up as Theo got up into Enzo’s face.  “Theo, what are you doing?”

He ignored you and kept talking to Enzo. “Are you hitting on my girlfriend? Right after all the shit we just went through?”

“What?” Enzo squeaked. “I’m not hitting on her, I was just talking to her.”

You were pissed. Your fists balled up at your sides as you stomped up to Theo. You grabbed onto his shoulder and yanked him away from Enzo. Theo didn’t see it coming, so he stumbled and fell back a couple of steps. 

“Get the hell away from him,” you growled. “And what the fuck is wrong with you, Theodore?” 

You got between Theo and Enzo, pushing your finger into your ex-boyfriend’s chest accusingly. 

“First,” you said, “you break up with me, break my heart, and then you have the fucking nerve to come up here all righteous and accuse Enzo of whatever the fuck you said, all while calling me your girlfriend when you’re the asshole who broke up with me!”

You glared at Theo, watching as his anger turned soft. “I am not your girlfriend anymore, Theodore Nott. You’re the one who made that happen, so you have no fucking right to come up in my conversations acting like I owe you anything.” 

“(Y/N),” he softly said. “I… I’m sorry. You’re right, I shouldn’t have come out here all crazy. I just, I hate seeing you with anyone else, even if it’s one of my friends.” 

He turned to talk to Enzo, “I’m sorry, mate. Will you give us a few minutes?” 

Enzo nodded his head and gave you an awkward smile before heading back into the dining hall. 

You huffed, settling down a little as you stared at Theo. 

He looked tired. His eyes had circles underneath them, and his cheeks didn’t have their usual flush to them. He was as gorgeous as ever, but he looked drained. 

“You don’t look so good,” you pointed out, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Theo frowned and softly said, “neither do you.”

Your lips pulled tight in a frown. Theo didn’t need to know how much he had affected you with the breakup. 

You sighed, “what are you doing, Theo?”

He shrugged and put his hands in his pockets awkwardly. “I, uh, I’m not really sure. I just didn’t like seeing you with Enzo.”

“Why? You broke up with me.”

Theo huffed, “I don’t know. I just don’t like seeing you with anyone else. It still feels like I’m supposed to be there. Like I’m supposed to be the one with you. I miss you.”

You shook your head as hurt started to creep back into your heart. “Don’t say things like that to me, Theo. Not after what you did. I loved you, and you broke up with me out of nowhere for no good reason, either.”

“I’m sorry,” he tried to reach for you, but you shrugged off his hand. “I don’t know why I did what I did. I just know that I regret it like crazy. I want to be with you, (Y/N). I’ve always wanted to be with you, I was stupid to let you go. Can you forgive me?”

Your lips pulled tight. “Theo, I can’t just get back with you like this.” You said. “I don’t trust you anymore. You broke my heart, and broke my trust. You gave me no reason for the breakup, so who’s to say it won’t happen right after we get back together?”

He shook his head. “Dolcezza, no. I won’t do that to you, not again. What can I do to prove this to you?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. I can’t get back with you. Not like this, and not so soon. You really hurt me, Theo.”

“Well, what if we try being friends at least?” He suggested. 

“You wanna be my friend?”

“No,” he said immediately. “But I’ll settle for being your friend for as long as it takes to win you back.” 

Your heart warmed at what he had said. Maybe you could try being friends with him. He did really hurt you, but you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. 

“Okay,” you decided, “I’ll give you a chance to be my friend. Don’t hurt me again, Theodore, or I’ll get Ginny on you.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry, darling, I’m gonna do whatever it takes to get my baby back. I can promise you that.”