#lost???? where did they go?? how do you lose her you forget to cherish her etc

[artemisbarnowl]

Im watching wild isles (David Attenborough series about british isles nature) and its wild how theres the cutest most storybook creatures ever. And then over the top is a voice saying "97% of this habitat has been lost" or "60% of insect species have been lost"

[theeluvian]

Never Wanted for Anything Else

1.5k words, I'm not very good at long fics haha, I'd rather jump straight into the action of it all! No spoilers, just regular smut here

There have been women in his past, but Emmrich has never loved as dearly and honestly as he does with Rook.

Everything she does, everything she says, everything she is, it is all perfect, and he loses himself in her every time they’re together alone. It is in those moments that he forgets his fear of death, for she has taught him how to live in the now, and that is what he cherishes the most. 

Instances like this in particular.

A peaceful morning for once, waking up to the dawning light in Treviso, nestled up together in some inn that Lucanis recommended. It is rare that they get to sleep through the night like this, as whenever they visit Antiva it is already dark, and at the lighthouse it is never ending day.

Emmrich is the first of the two to awaken, Rook curled up in his embrace and he can’t help the smile, nor would he ever fight it in her presence. This is something rare, a treasured situation that there isn’t room for at their home in the fade - physically, at least, as the only bed large enough for two to be comfortable in is owned by Davrin.

He gazes at her blissful expression as she slumbers on, breathing calm and slow and warm against his chest. With ever the greatest care, he brushes aside a few strands of hair from her cheek and runs his thumb across her smooth and youthful cheek.

If only he was a younger man, somewhere around her age and not this old, they could have a full and long life together. But this is when they were destined to meet, and from the day she walked into his life they haven’t spent a day apart, and so it shall be for as long as they both exist.

“I sense there’s something on your mind,” Rook speaks suddenly and softly, voice heavy with drowsiness.

“Oh, darling, I didn’t mean to wake you-”

“I’m glad you did.” She looks up at him with the sweetest, kindest smile, and he wants to kiss her something so dearly. “So what are you thinking about?”

“Just… how happy I am here with you.” Emmrich smiles back in the same sense as Rook.

“Oh?”

“Yes, I could not imagine myself in a better place than this, and nor would I want to.”

“I know what you mean. It’s nice to get some respite from all that which worries us each.” She snuggles deeper into his embrace, forehead pressed against his chest. “It’s sweet of you to put it into words.”

“Like I always say, I choose my words very carefully.”

“And you always choose the perfect ones, too,” she laughs and meets his gaze again as she moves up to kiss his lips.

A sensation ever so precious to Emmrich. Sure he enjoys doing a lot of things with her and to her, but kissing is a particular joy for him, and the way she smiles into the meeting of lips makes the butterflies he thought gone soar right back into his chest, fluttering about with wings of joy.

So he tightens his arms around her, pulling them as close together as possible, legs intertwining till there’s not an inch of air between them. He is so lost in their kisses that he doesn’t notice where Rook’s hand is going till her fingertips meet the flesh of his cock, and just as well, he hadn’t noticed his growing erection sooner than when she wraps her hand around him and starts stroking, slow and gentle. 

“Ah, oh dear, you don’t have to,” he utters with hitched breaths.

“I want to, don’t you?” Her motion doesn’t halter for a second.

“I certainly do, so much that it is all consuming of my self.”

“Good. That is exactly what I wish from you. To want me so much that it makes you forget everything else,” she whispers against his neck before leaving a trail of warm kisses that makes it bloom with pleasure wherever she’s been.

“I do - you are ever the most important thing on my mind, and the most consistent one, too.” With one arm stuck between Rook’s naked body and the soft mattress, Emmrich lets his one freed hand wander downward as well, reaching for the space between her legs the best he can. “My word, you are eager, aren’t you?”

His fingers gets covered in the wetness of her lust as he slips a few digits between her labia, and then brings those fingers a bit upwards to touch her clit with just the amount of force needed for her to start humming against his skin where she continuously kisses.

“Hmm, the things you do to me, Emmrich, there are no words for it.”

“I feel the same, my dearest.”

“The best I can do is continue to show you.”

She lifts up her leg onto his side, guides his lengthy erection to her opening, and he doesn’t need to be told to enter before sliding into her soaked pussy.

It is always better than the previous time they spent together like this; pure ecstasy that comes from love and devotion to another person, emotions that grow stronger every day, and the need ever bigger. Emmrich wants to kiss her with such desperation, but she’s acting the tease, leaning away when he moves in after her lips, his own parted with slight moans, hers in an open-mouthed smile as they share every breath together.

Once he is fully inserted in her he pauses there, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against Rook’s as he takes his time to sense every muscle that clenches around his shaft, the warmth that embraces him, her eager wetness that made it so easy for him to slip in. And when he opens his eyes again, she’s staring straight into his soul.

Emmrich starts slow, moving all the way till just the tip is pressing against her hole, then pushes inside again till he can’t go any deeper, a pace that they both enjoy every inch of.

He has truly found his soulmate in her.

Little by little he increases his thrusting, and she finally lets him kiss her properly, deeply, passionately, swallowing every single gasp and moan that she offers him.

Meanwhile her hands move into his hair, a rare thing as he usually likes to keep it neat and tidy, but her driving fingers through his graying hair while it already is a mess from sleeping is a thing he allows and enjoys well enough.

Then in one swift move, their bodies move as one entity as they roll till Rook is on her back, both legs quickly surrounding Emmrich and locking him in on top. It is the better position, his favorite in fact, so that she can just relax and enjoy being ravished by him and his adoration.

He feels quite the lucky man to be able to see his dear Rook like this, like no one ever does - vulnerable. This is the peak of perfection, the way she moans, her brows raised, eyes meeting his gaze, it is all so dear to his heart, and he can’t tell her for words lack everything to express his love for her. So he simply kisses her, again and again and again, thrusting a little faster, going deep till there’s nothing more to give.

By the way Rook’s whimpers and moans grow needier and quicker, he can tell that she’s getting closer to a final crescendo, so to help her feel the best she can, he licks his fingers without breaking eye contact, leads his hand down between them and starts massaging her clit at a pace that will be punishing for his wrist later, but her joy is most important.

And immediately there’s a slight, “Yes, oh-” urged forth from her lips, and mere moments later her entire body tenses up beneath him - around him, and as he knows how she likes it, he goes as fast as his body will allow for.

She calls his name between Ohs and Ahs, riding out the wave on his cock. Her euphoria blends into his, making his eyes roll back and lids close as he, too, cums most brilliantly inside of the love of his life till he can barely keep himself raised above her, arms weak with exhaustion. It is like a thunderstorm inside him reaching its splendid peak before fading out and leaving him ever so pleased, and once it has subsided, he, calm and collected, lowers himself down to lie on top of Rook and inside of her arms’ grasp. 

“Oh dear, I worry that we might have awoken all of Treviso this time,” he huffs out with a light laugh.

“They would be so lucky to have us to hear, I’d say,” Rook speaks, weak from the tryst, and Emmrich chuckles in response.

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||Stress Relief

Take a deep breath, before you yell at some poor face who just happens to have the misfortune to walking in to one of your days, where everything seems to be going south.

This seemed to have taken one of the most bizarre turns you could have ever imagined, you had no idea why you had agreed to such a trivial, petty matter.

Oh! Now you remember it was Charlie, who had clasped your hand looked at you with the doe eyes which reminded you of some of the Korean shows you watched as a teen and young adult.

You would admire the eye makeup, the most because once your dad who had been a makeup artist had told his philosophy of makeup to look absolutely flawless, the eyes and lips should be standing out the most.

Totally irrelevant, you didn't understand the point of recalling this faint memory of your dad. You wished you could just go back to your suburban house, in the mountainside feel the spring flowers touch your skin again, you can't believe you once hated them.

Well, you always, miss what you once never cherished and lost.

"Coming this far, can't believe all the messed-up hotel mess is on Y/n." Angel dust once told Alastor, "The civil examinations study there and study even after your dead!"

"A what now?" Alastor questioned, "Oh! you didn't know? Not very bad now, are you?" Niffty asked, climbing on Alastor.

"What exams?" Alastor had asked once again, pushing Niffty from his shoulder,

"You always are the last person to know about anything are you? Don't you have like special powers or something which you can spy on anyone?"

Alastor looked at them like he was just about to lose his smiling grin, but of course smile is the best makeup.

"So, you know right Heaven is facing some economical crisis they spent so much time providing the 'perfect after life' guess the angels forgot money doesn't exactly grow on trees." Angel said sarcastically. But some hints of satisfaction could be made out.

"How exactly is this related to Y/n now?"

"You seriously don't know anything." Vaggie interjected, "When you had mysteriously run of in one of your 'expeditions' Adam the asshole came to the hotel, not for the execution apparently in the weekly magazine or something in heaven there was about a mysterious economist, or a business manager who was really good at managing expenses and could stabilize the afterlife."

"Well that turned out nicely did it not?"

"Ugh!" Vaggie hit her head, "No you egocentric, piece of shi--"

"Don't try that with me." Alastor warned,

"Yeah yeah she's really good." Angel finished, "It was tracked to Y/n, now heaven knows that Y/n is still choosing to be in hell, Now they want her there in heaven."

"To help them manage there life."

"Y/n has to write a civil exam the hardest one, or else they would attack the hotel."

"Well they don't know who they are messing with."

You sniffled, "Can't do this anymore." You murmured, "Want to die."

"Now my dear, is that a word you should use when you are literally saving the hotel?" Alastor appeared like the shadow, like always.

"Alastor?" You slowly poked your head from the blanket, "Why dear you're a mess!" Alastor said moving next to you on the bed,

"Can I put my head on your lap?" You asked, he nodded cheerfully.

"So why did you agree to this my dear?"

"I didn't want to fail everyone the extermination is already scheduled earlier than expected I didn't want to crush Charlie's dream."

"You're working really hard, without sleeping, isn't that concerning? It's concerning me."

"Thank god your here!" You said,

Alastor put a hand on your tear-stained cheeks.

"It's time for a little rest. Dear."

"I can't the exam is in three more days I think, I don't know how time works in hell."

"If That Adam guy keeps bothering you, I'll just remind him why I am here."

You laughed, "I'm sure you will."

You kissed his cheek, "Thank you."

"Never forget to smile my dear, and now take care."

He switched of the lights, and saw you instantly hold him close before cuddling up to him, he really knew how to make you loosen up a bit.

[citadelofswords]

i have to write an intro to this somehow. i don't know how to. all i got is that this is caro's fault. i've been thinking about this all day. i have so many more thoughts than made it into this thing and i might write more of it, but this gets across what i want it to. anyway yeah it's an interstitial infinity homestuck au sorry to my non-homestucks in the tag

four teenagers sit around a campfire on the ruined battlefield of a cosmic chessboard. three of them are wearing incredibly comfortable looking pajamas emblazoned with strange, unknowable symbols. the fourth is wearing what looks like a fuchsia tracksuit made of velvet. it looks equally as comfortable, but is notably much uglier than the pajamas are.

“i’m just saying,” says audrey, wearing a teal color that makes her look a little washed out. “it should be fundamentally impossible to lose it. it should be baked into the— the code that makes up the game.”

“maybe it’s a weird glitch?” suggests al, in a black and grey that suits him, but looks out of place on his body, as though he should always be dressed in color. “i know it was successful. i held it in my hands for a moment. it was perfect.”

“and sometime in between then and killing the black king, we lost it,” audrey says. “we lost an entire universe! how does that happen?!”

“you forget to cherish it,” says trish, in dark olive green. despite herself, audrey snorts a laugh.

shigeo, in the ugly fuchsia tracksuit, says, “do we have an idea of how to find it again?”

“no,” audrey says glumly. “i mean. maybe al can mess with paradox space or something?”

“it’s not here anymore,” al says. “it’s its own thing now. its own universe. it’s outside of here.”

“great, so we have nothing.” audrey flops backwards onto the ground and sighs.

“at least we went god tier before the reckoning!” al says brightly, before glancing at shigeo. “oh, right.”

“no, it’s okay,” shigeo says with a sigh. “i don’t know why it didn’t work either.”

“you’re just already too OP. if you went god tier it would just break the whole game,” audrey suggests.

there’s silence for a while, save the crackling of the campfire.

“so this is it,” trish says finally. “this is all there is for the rest of time.”

“it can’t be,” audrey says. “our genesis frog exists. we just have to figure out how to get to it.”

“if we go to the furthest ring, and speak to the horrorterrors maybe?” shigeo offers tentatively. “or i could sleep...”

“prospit’s gone, mob,” audrey reminds him. “and so is your dream self. even though your ascension didn’t take, you still merged. no, if we want to talk to those guys we’ll have to go ourselves.”

trish says, “i could try to reach out to them—,”

“no,” three voices say in unison, cutting her off.

“it’s a good thought!” al says. “but, uh...” he looks behind trish, where a still smoking crater shows the results of trish becoming her aspect. the edges are still dripping, as though the very ground has melted around her.

“yeah?” trish raises an eyebrow. “i have a better sense of how to do it now. it was a learning experience.”

“just stay for a second,” audrey says, tiredly. “give me a moment. i’m sure the pathway to the furthest ring will show itself if we just—,”

“you’re confusing mind with time again,” al mutters.

“sburb did that first!” audrey shouts, with no heat.

—

somewhere, a timer that has been steadily ticking for the last several thousand years finally reaches zero.

—

the conversation on the battlefield is interrupted by a strange fraymotif— gears rotating before being slashed in half. a fifth teenager appears from seemingly nowhere. he, too, is wearing a set of comfortable looking pajamas, but his are dark red, standing out against the grey of his skin. he looks disdainfully at the four humans in front of him.

“my part’s done,” he says. over his shoulder is slung a dark body, which he dumps on the ground in front of himself. “he’s your problem now. have fun.”

with those inexplicably cryptic words, he disappears again.

“what the fuck,” audrey says. shigeo gets up to creep closer to the body. al glances warily at him, but makes no move to stop him.

the figure groans and squints open one eye. it is, strangely-- an anthropomorphic hedgehog. he is unlike any of the beings that any of them have seen before. the eye flickers over al, trish, and audrey before settling on shigeo.

“boy,” he rasps, and shigeo flinches. “have you got any water?”

“i can get you some,” al pipes up, and scrambles to his feet to head for the river. he’s stopped in place by shigeo’s voice.

“you’re him,” he says. he meets the hedgehog’s gaze head-on. “the voice i was hearing in my head. it’s you.”

“what?” audrey says. “but— but i heard one too. and we met her— she was a prospitian.”

“no rules that say they have to be from the moons,” al tries, but trish stands up, her doom powers crackling ominously.

“who the hell are you?” she asks. “what do you want with us?”

“first,” says the hedgehog— the sojourning hellion, if shigeo is to be believed. “i would like some water. please. and then i will tell you what i know.”

it is then that they notice that he is, himself, wearing the pajamas that indicate that he is a god tier player.

—

your name is SHADOW the HEDGEHOG. you are a teenager. you played the game called sburb. it was supposed to be you and your best friend MARIA, but she was killed in the process of entering the incipisphere, and you were left alone. as a result your session became DEAD. it should have been impossible for you to win. you think impossible situations can go fuck themselves. when you reached the FORGE, however, you discovered that someone had already bred the GENESIS FROG before you could get there. being the only living creature left in the ENTIRE UNIVERSE, you have no idea how this could have happened. the only explanation that you have is that SOMEONE (POSSIBLY YOU) CAME BACK FROM THE FUTURE TO DO IT. and so you have set off through paradox space, crawling in and out of the maws of many a BILIOUS SLICK, in order to find the person who would, one day, return to your past and light your forge, thereby granting you access to the ULTIMATE REWARD. what will you do?

[akariamai]

Chamomile Tea

Part 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Black Widow!Reader

Word Count: 1112

Steam seeped from the porcelain cup, filled to the rim with your Chamomile tea, as you waited for your neighbor to arrive. The table you choose was not made out of thoughtlessness. It was deliberate and precise. The chairs near the table held the same preference. You needed to see the exits of the room, the people walking in and out of the coffee shop, and be slightly hidden away from the world. 

The Red Room taught you to be hyper vigilant. To be aware of your surroundings every waking moment of your life. Danger can lurk at every corner of the world. Slowly whisking you away from the little sanity you clasps to.

Last night left you vulnerable. You lost your head for a second, yelling at the woman you’ve all but forgotten. Forgetting the world around you, the man beneath your floor. Facing her was so unexpected and so painful. She was there for a moment and then gone the next. She should’ve never come back to reconcile when there was nothing left to fix. The pieces left were far too small to mend. 

Matt, once she had climbed out of your window, came to comfort you in such a way where you wouldn’t feel unease. He sat closely to you but not so close that his shoulders could touch yours if he wasn’t comfortable. He waited for you to reach out to him. Matt truly was a saint. He was patient with you. He didn’t pressure you to talk unless you felt you could open up to him.

You saw him through one of the semi-dirty windows near the front of the building. He was making his way towards the sliding doors of the coffee shop. Tilting his head before heading towards the line to order. He must’ve smelled your Chamomile tea or the fragrance you generously sprinkle onto your body because once he ordered, he walked straight towards your direction. Although there were other ways where he could’ve found you, his sense of smell only being one of them. He could’ve merely asked the staff once he finished ordering if a person similar to you was waiting in the shop and pointed him in your direction. 

He made his way towards you, careful not to go too fast, without knocking into anything or anyone. His hands made it towards the chair in front of you and asked, “[Reader] is that you?”

Your first natural response is to nod but nodding will do nothing but make him laugh. You reassured, “Yeah, it’s me.” Taking a sip from your tea, the gentle touch of the notes of apple and a mellow sweetness exploded your taste buds with flavor. “What’d you get?” It was a blatant attempt at ignoring the vulnerability you’d shown last night.

“I ordered a cup of coffee and a glazed donut.” He knew not to push where he shouldn’t. He spent months comprehending the slight substantial changes in your body and registering them to how you were feeling. It was quite difficult especially when he couldn’t read you like others. You were a complete mystery and you so readily intrigued him.

There were questions he wished to ask. ‘Who was she?’ ‘How do you feel?’ ‘How can I help you?’ ‘Why do you push me away when you clearly need someone?’ Granted he was not the best for accepting help nor was he the best at keeping his feelings in check. He wanted to do right to the world, bloodying his hands to do it, and keep the people he cherishes safe from harm. Somehow you had wormed your way into his heart and carved a place there for only you to fill.

He’d never tell you this, however, his past relationships had never held on for too long. He’d either lose them due to his extra-curricular activities or in the death of his beloved. Heartbreak always awaited him in the end. It was like he was cursed to walk the path of vigilantism alone.

“She was someone I considered a sister…” You paused, “when I was younger. More naive to the world around me.” She suffered the same fate as you before she left without warning. The hurt did not come from leaving suddenly or being left in the dark but for not sending help for the rest. The inability to begin the complete and utter annihilation of the Red Room. “I was taken to a vile place when I was a child. Too young to remember the face of my mother or share any memories of anything but blood and weapons.”

His heart ached for you and your lost childhood. He could feel the wave of sorrow spilling out of you and you confessed to him snippets of your past. It was more than he had hoped for. 

“One day, she vanished without a word. It was a place where hope could not enter but when word spread of an escape, it rushed in like smoke. That pinch of happiness was all we had. Someone might finally save us but no one ever did and that happiness disappeared like it was never there.”

He could feel tears pooling into your eyes but they refused to fall. He could tell you were holding them in but he stayed quiet. “I’ll never forgive her for not trying. For giving up on us the moment she tasted freedom.”

Matt placed his hand, palming facing the ceiling, waiting for you to choose to take his hand. It was the only way he knew how to comfort you. A gentle smile worked his way onto his lips as he felt your hand inch closer to his. Your hand was rough, the bumps of scars littered all over, and your grip was light. You had suffered all this time and had only now had the time to process such a revelation.

“You don’t have to.” He believed in forgiveness but could not pressure anyone to come to that resolution. It was a path walked alone. The road to be able to forgive is not an easy one. It was taxing and tiresome. Even he, a self-proclaimed man of god, still found it hard to reach the absolution of forgiveness. 

“Thank you.” Your lips whispered into the air almost silent enough for his ears wouldn’t pick it up without his senses. He slightly tightened his grip, letting you know he could be someone you could depend on. That you were not alone in your journey to recovery, whatever form it takes. He wants to stay by your side through it all and maybe even learn more of what remained of your past.

Masterlist

[thatgu-y]

“I wonder if the thought of me has ever crossed her mind?”

No, it has not. What you failed to understand is that the thought of you crossed her mind every day of your relationship. It has made her cry more times than it has made her smile. It has traversed through every corner of her prefrontal cortex and has held her up at night more times than you have cared to ask. When she decided to exit the relationship, she had run that simulation countless times for months before the words were uttered from her lips. She had debated and confronted each and every of her own thoughts before coming up with the decision to end things, all of which was done at your own oblivion. You have failed her countless times in her own mind, and you have failed her even more in real life. You neglected her feelings, took her presence in your life as a given and delusionally drew a future with her, whilst simultaneously neglecting the version of her that is present. You fell in love with this idea of a perfect future and chose to ignore the intricacies of her tone, the changes in her speech. You shoved it aside, labeling it as just a “phase” and that it too shall pass. You are who to blame. 

So no, the thought of you has never even set foot on her doorstep. Truth is, she has long forgotten about you. She has buried the memories of you deep inside her heart, labeled it a fond memory of her youth and threw away the keys. You’ve lost, endearingly and honestly. You are now a remnant of the past in her story, a mere irrelevance. You hold no importance and will be of no consequence for the rest of her days. She even said that she misses you more than she remembers you. Don’t you get it? What remains are embers of an old flame that still lingers inside her heart, while the memories of you and what you had together had long faded. And if a memory shared between two people had been forgotten by one, then you cherishing it and running it through your mind every day is like playing a losing game. You can’t stop the inevitable future where both of you will soon forget what it’s like to be together, and how her beauty will soon be just another face in the countless ones you will have met in this lifetime. And don’t even ask me about her feelings. If she cared, she would have called. But she never did. So she never cared that deeply. You, my friend, are the only one who is still lost in his mind. You have to let her go. Let the memories of her go. Only when you do that will you be free from this purgatory.

[gotta-pet-em-all]

@unovajournal​ cmere it’s storytime

so. Picture this: it’s just after the fall of Plasma and I am not exactly coping well. Fifteen years old, recently arrested, in desperate need of mood stabilizers. (you, uh, might have seen what i’m like unmedicated if you look back through my blog a bit. it’s not fun.)

The thing is. Interpol basically arrested the entire fucking cult, and had the fun task of sorting out who did what crimes and how to properly rehabilitate people en masse. People and pokemon inevitably slipped through the cracks. Including my oldest pokemon friend, Lola, who had just kind of stuck with me through the entire plasma ordeal despite multiple attempts to “liberate” her. She didn’t have a pokeball, she wasn’t in the system, and through a series of miscommunications I was told they had lost her.

(”how do you lose an entire fucking pokemon?” “you forget to cherish her. alternately, you only accept years later that she was stressed the fuck out, had her own emotional needs, and took a fucking break now that her human was no longer in danger from the cult that let all sorts of abuse run rampant.”)

So i, and i cannot stress enough that i was not emotionally stable at the time, decided that my only course in life from then on was to run off into the woods to become a hermit. Or let the moss consume me, i didn’t really plan ahead that far. I had made up my mind and set my resolve! this decision was made in the span of about fifteen minutes, by the way. i did not even think to confirm this information, or realize that interpol hadn’t even finished registering all the pokemon there because it was such a monumental task.

And then-- this is the part that got my security increased later on-- I acted like I was ready to stop biting people, and as a reward for my good behavior could I please go for a walk? i did not go for a walk. I slipped out of my cuffs (ugh, my thumbs hurt from that, don’t try this at home) and made a break for it. In fairness, no one was bitten that day! But I did escape, and because the security was so makeshift, I got away with it.

and THEN. i realized that there was not much in the way of woods to disappear into. I’d reached civilization, and I wasn’t happy about that. Fortunately, civilization had benches, which I was much happier about. Fun fact: if you bother your local government enough, they will install benches! love benches. 

See, the smart thing to do would be to get a change of clothes, find a place to lay low, maybe change directions, try to blend in. I don’t do any of that. I take a nap.

Fast forward a little while, and it starts raining. I don’t want to go indoors, where the scary unfamiliar people are, but I start getting paranoid again and feel like I need to move. I’ve barely made it a block when I slip on the wet concrete, hit my head, and start crying. The owner of the convenience store sees me outside, brings me in like a wet litten, and there ends my daring tale of escape and rebellion.

All in all, I was gone for less than a day, then hospitalized for a month afterwards due to getting ~hypothermia~ and being too skinny to regulate my damn body temperature in the first place. Also, Lola had apparently been in and out of the medical ward the entire damn time, and everyone assumed she belonged to interpol.

turns out that tragedy plus time DOES equal comedy bc I’ve been looking through old memories and damn. Some of them were actually kinda funny in hindsight, like the time I was a fugitive from the law

[hope-you-brought-kneepads-bitch]

Lost Girl

Summary: Scarlet was left in charge of you, obviously it hasn't gone well and Wanda's just returned home

Words: 1,060

Warnings: 18+ even though its not that bad but yeah 18+, swearing errr not much else maybe an innuendo or two

"Wanda do you know where Y/n is?" Scarlet had walked through the whole house looking for you and came up empty, she was slightly worried, you've never been away from them for long "are you telling me you've lost Y/n?" Wanda glared at the witch in front of her as she entered the house "I left you alone for 4 hours? How do you lose a woman?!"

"you forget the cherish her?" She smirked a little making the brunette roll her eyes "you're not funny" she walked past Scarlet and made a beeline for your game room "did you check the game room?!" Wanda shouted behind her with the other witch running after her "that was the first place I checked!"

Wanda opened the door and immediately stepped back "Jesus she needs to clean this place theres food and energy drinks all over the floor!" Wanda started wondering around the room which you clearly weren't in but she felt compelled to start cleaning up "Wanda we don't have time for this! Our girlfriend is missing!"

"You're the one that lost her! You go looking for her while I burn everything in here"

Suddenly the door opened and the pair ran through the house to the door to see you standing there with a bag of food and a few new stuffies in your other hand "why are you guys so red? Did you play without me?? Because thats so not cool you know I like joining in, or at least watching so I can give Scar pointers"

Scarlet breathed a huge sigh of relief and fell to the floor "fuck me Y/n why did you run off?"

"I didn't run off, I clearly came into the office and said 'hey Scar I'm going out for McDonalds do you want anything and I'll be back in an hour" you closed the door behind you with your hips, since your hands were preoccupied, then Wanda took the bag of food from you placing it on the counter "I thought we agreed on no more junk food?" she said and you just shrugged "I felt like I deserved it"

Scarlet was still on the floor trying to calm herself down but raised her head to look at you "she's been in your gaming room"

The colour drained from your face knowing exactly what that meant "okayyy-"

Wanda shushed you and picked you up placing you on the counter "you told me you were keeping that room clean, now I don't like to pry so I trusted you to keep it clean, so why isn't it?"

You refused to say anything instead shrugging and lowering your head but Wanda wasn't having it "ah ah ah princess" she lifted your head up to look at her "now you're going to clean the room and make it spotless, and well in the mean time Scar and I will be enjoying ourselves without you, got it?"

The redhead on the floor finally lifted herself up and looked to Wanda "okay but like I'm meeting Nat in an hour for a little stealth mission thing so could we reschedule the "punishment fun" later or tomorrow if I'm too tired tonight?"

Wanda glared at the witch "I'm trying to punish her here and you're not helping"

"But Nat will kill me if I don't go, and she's as scary in this universe as she was in my own"

Wanda groaned "okay! Fine" she looked back at you "you don't get to cum for week"

You gasped "that isn't fair! All because my personal gaming room is a mess? I clean this whole house once a week doesn't that make up for anything??"

Wanda pretended to think about it for a little bit "nope! Now go on, clean the room while I make dinner"

You jumped off the counter but pointed to the bag of food "what about the McDonalds?"

"Scarlet can take it for her on Nat on the mission, you're having beef stew" she handed the bag to Scar "oh hell yeah! Nat will love it"

You jumped off of the counter mumbling to yourself and Wanda stopped you "if you clean I'll let you have ice cream later"

"Hmm okay then" you left without another word to go and clean leaving the witches alone.

"That was harsh Wands"

"I'll make it up to her later" Wanda took a burger out of the bag biting into it "this is good, shame she wont have it for a while"

Scarlet laughed "wow, and I thought I was evil, maybe you should have the black fingertips"

Wanda nodded "I don't think they'd go with my nails"

Both women talked for a while until a large shout got their attention, it was you, "what the hell was that?" Scar said but Wanda was already up the stairs to your room "Y/n what happened?!"

You were lay on the floor with your eyes closed "I saw a spider and collapsed, I can't continue on to clean with a spider around"

Wanda was flabbergasted "what in the fuck does that even mean?? You hang around with Peter and Nat"

You shrugged "and?"

"You aren't scared of spiders Y/n now get up and clean!" Wanda left the room leaving you groaning and getting up "its not even that bad"

Scarlet picked up a bag peering inside "this chicken is green and smells"

"Yeah okay I guess that's pretty gross" you agreed taking the bag from her and throwing it in the bin "go on and enjoy your mission"

Scarlet brought you into hug and kissed you "my love, you clean this room and I'll let you come with Nat and I on our next mission, okay?"

"Hell yeah! Do you think Wanda would let me?"

Scarlet laughed "no, no she won't but we won't tell her will we?"

You smirked "you're so sneaky babe"

"Yeah well, you already can't cum for a week what else could she do?"

You thought about it and yeah she couldn't do anything to you but Scar on the other hand "what if she does the same to you?"

The witch snorted "please, she wouldn't be able to stay away from me for more than a few days, I'm too irresistible"

"More like pestering" you mumbled and Scarlet just laughed "yes yes I am but you both love it"

[thoughtfullyrainynightmare]

Request: 

I would like to request some scenarios for Fuego, Nozel and William having an argument with their s/o and breaking up with her. Having some booze to get drunk to forget what happened that day and realizes after getting drunk that they can't live without her and ended up begging for forgiveness and a second chance in the middle of the night.

A/N: I’m publishing this in 3 parts, so for now, it’s just Fue

Pairing: Fuegoleon Vermillion x gn!reader

Genre: angst with a happy end

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, getting drunk, misuse of alcohol

Length: ~1.1k

He considered himself a patient man, and most often he was able to maintain his composure; something he took pride in. It had been a characteristic of himself that he had tried to cherish and build for so many years, so that he wouldn’t be brash and careless.

But now, after that argument, where he had lost it, that patience and understanding, and a petty scuffle had blown up into a full-blown argument, he looked into the depths of his whiskey glass and kept repeating it time and time again, as a loop. The words spoken in haste and anger, on both sides, the words, like needles, that had led to a break up. Out of his initiative.

Those words “we’re through”, were the ones that haunted him, the one statement that he couldn’t take back, no matter how much he wanted. He should have stopped, taken a step back and just… thought. He should have approached it more carefully, with a calm mind, just like in battle. But he hadn’t. Instead, he had allowed himself to be swept away by frustration and anger.

He emptied yet another glass, nearly making it to the bottom of the bottle with this one. His head felt light and drowsy, like he should just go to bed. But tossing and turning in his bed didn’t feel like an inviting option, and thus, he poured himself another drink.

But that didn’t bring him comfort, simply because that couldn’t be found from the bottom of the glass, or the bottle, for that matter. The thing he should do, the thing he felt that he needed to do, because he so sorely, desperately wanted it, was to apologize. Because he hadn’t meant the words he had spoken, which was only a poor excuse, since such words shouldn’t be uttered carelessly, he knew as much. And yet… they had been spoken.

What was left for him, the action that he should take, regardless of the outcome, was to apologize for it. That he should do, even if you refused to take him back. He could understand it, he could but… he didn’t want it, not that outcome where it’d just end like this. The worst mistake of his life and there was nothing else to do than to apologize, and hope, hope in the slim chance that you still had a place for him in your heart. He had to, he had to, he had to, hehadto hehadto, hehad-, to! He needed to ask for your forgiveness.

So, he got up from his chair, nearly losing balance in the haste of the moment, but somehow, by some god given miracle his steps carried him to your door, and he knocked.

From the mana you could tell that it was him, even if you found it hard to believe. It was a confusing state to be in, having cried hours on end, having heard those words, drilling into your heart, and now… he was here.

For a moment you wondered if you should open the door, but in the end, with a heavy sigh, you did.

You opened the door, and you looked at him.

His eyes looked at you for a fraction of a second, but then they fell to the ground, as if he couldn’t look at your eyes, all red and swollen. That guilt was something he couldn’t bear, added to the burden on his shoulders, not yet, not… quite yet, at least.

“Can I… come in?” He asked with a whisper, the words, falling from him, defeated and broken.

A part of you wanted to just utter ‘no’ in the most chilling tone you had to offer, and slam the door shut right in front of his face. But… another part, a much larger one, wanted to hear what he had to say. And thus, you, after a moment of hesitation that felt to him like a fifth of an eternity, you took a step to the side and just nodded, letting him in.

His steps were heavy, and dragged as he passed you. His posture was non-existent and shoulders were hunched forward, which… you had never seen before. But still, you closed the door, and crossed your arms, waiting for what he might have to say.

He turned around to face you, but still his eyes didn’t lift from the floor. His lips parted, but nothing came out, instead he swallowed, and tried again.

“I’m… sorry…”

You scoffed, it was a sound that just left you, fell from you, as if to ask if that was it, if that was the culmination of it all. But continuing it, the thought, would have been petty. Perhaps even started another argument. So, instead you clenched your teeth, the same as him.

“I know that simply stating it doesn’t suffice,” he continued. “And that… telling you that I spoke out in anger, is no excuse, but I… didn’t mean what I said. I didn’t… think. I should have, I am aware of it, but I just…”

There was a glint of tears, collecting into his eyes. His pride… he had swallowed it.

“Didn’t think?” You asked, standing in front of him, you asked, making a circular motion with your hand, and raised an eyebrow.

“I didn’t,” he admitted.

A few seconds passed by, as if he was pondering what else he might say, what else he might do, and it was with that burden of guilt that lied on his shoulders, that he got down on one knee, and took your hand into his. His touch was faint and imploring, as if asking if he could,

“And… perhaps…” he swallowed again, “it is too much to ask for your forgiveness, let alone hope that we might-, that you might take me back again, but… I am truly sorry.”

He sounded broken, even more than he looked. And he sounded genuine and heartfelt. You had spent enough time with him to know that this kind of a testimony he wouldn’t make, if he didn’t mean it. It wasn’t all forgiven and forgotten, but… you had made mistakes in your life as well.

“Fool me once…” you uttered, to which he nodded.

He understood what you meant with that. He understood, that this was the only second chance you might grant him. But… it was all that he needed.

[ethereaiin]

2B likes to carry Reader but doesn't like to admit it?

changed your rq a bit since i wanted some comfort fluff. also this reignited my motivation to write for my nier fic so thanks <3

features; you and 2B + some bonus 9S.

[au]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Being the only human left in the world meant a lot of things.

The weight of responsibility weighed heavily on your shoulders. There was never a day that went by you weren’t reminded of how precious your life was and how losing it meant the end of humanity. The androids you’ve come to know and love never let you forget that fact. You were their salvation; their hope and most of all, their most cherished person.

2B was especially fond of you. While she was reserved with her emotions, opting to use actions to display her care, you knew that she held a soft spot for you. She treated you as if you were the most delicate thing in the world; like the slightest harm against you would break you completely. Compared to an android, of course you were weaker. Yet 2B was maybe a little too cautious.

“Is this really necessary?”

You say with a slight pout as 2B lifts you from the ground and you immediately wrap your arms around her neck. At this point, she’s done it so many times that it felt more like an instinctual habit rather than something you did to ensure you wouldn’t fall. Knowing her, it was unlikely she’d ever let you slip through her grasp. Her wary nature wouldn’t allow it.

At this point, you were somewhat used to the coldness of an android’s body. They were different from humans and they didn’t possess the natural heat you exuded. When you clung to her, it felt no different from any other person, yet the lack of warmth was like a gentle reminder. Nothing here was the same as you remembered it to be and the beings that you were surrounded with on a daily basis that appeared so human were, in fact, anything but.

2B makes no verbal sound of irritation at your question and she answers you as diligently as she always does. “Of course. We can’t afford you getting sick or hurt.”

Though she rarely ever spoke with emotion, you could still hear the tinge of concern in her voice. It only made the heat in your cheeks feel especially warmer. “A-At least let me ride on your back! You can’t fight like this with me here!”

“You’re fine right where you are.”

Your lips part to protest but quickly close when you recall the promise you made to her earlier that day. It was her condition that if you were to roam about the city, you needed to listen to everything she told you to do. No matter how you felt about it. Even if it was a little embarrassing.

Yet, this wasn’t just a one-time occurrence when it came to 2B. No matter where you were, 2B wanted to be in some form of contact with you. At the camp, she’d sit so close that you could feel the brush of her sleeves against your skin, and whenever you were given the chance to roam about, you always found yourself either in her arms or on her back.

You thought it was nothing more than android curiosity. You were the first human she’s ever interacted with after all and it wasn’t as if it were any different for you. You couldn’t deny that you too were interested in androids, especially how they all came to be. For them, they’ve always known humans as their elusive creators, but for you, it felt as if the androids seemingly came from nowhere.

You couldn’t remember much of your old life before you woke up and for now, the desolate and decrepit city you wandered in was your new home. At least until you regain the lost memories 2B promised she’d help you recover.

“So, where are we going today?” You finally ask after a brief walk in silence.

2B’s stride doesn’t break and you feel almost lulled by her rhythmic steps. She didn’t even seem the least burdened with carrying you. She was stronger than an average human, it was something you came to learn after watching her mercilessly beat down a hunk of sentient metal. Just with her fists alone she was able to put a dent in steel. To her, your weight was of little consequence.

Often, you wondered what you felt like in her arms.

She glanced down at you, visage half shrouded by the blindfold around her eyes though the curve of a smile on her lips shows her excitement. “. . . You’ll see.”

She doesn’t say anymore after that and the both of you continue on in silence. Not that you minded it too much. 2B was never a conversationalist, she relied more on actions than words to convey how she felt. You liked that part of her. Her actions were always well thought out and held meaning, Whether she knew it or not, it made every little thing she did for you feel a little more sincere.

From your place in her arms, you took in the sights of the city. As dilapidated and broken as the world around you seemed, it was oddly beautiful. Never had you seen so much green in your life. Flora grew from the cracks between the roads and overtook the concrete buildings towering above you. Looking up towards the sky, you could see flocks of birds flying towards a destination you would never know, their distant calls an interruption to the silence. You don’t remember much of the old world, but you knew this city was never meant to be this quiet.

You desperately wished to regain your lost memories, yet there was a part of you who wasn’t so eager. Often the thought crossed your mind; maybe you were better off without them. Remembering would only leave you with the desire for a world long gone along with the total realization of your unfathomable luck. You, the last of your kind, were left all alone while the world died and withered without you. If there was a god, surely they wouldn’t have condemned you to such a lonely fate.

“Look,”

At the sound of her voice, you glance up at her only to direct your sight towards whatever she was referring to. While you were deep in thought you hadn’t noticed the direction she was heading in and you found yourself atop a wooden bridge placed just behind the walls of what looked to be an amusement park. From where 2B stood, you couldn’t see much, but you were given an incredible view of the distant castle.

“I-Is that an- Woah!”

The words died right on your tongue as an explosion of color suddenly took over the sky. Even from the great distance between you and the park, you were able to hear the crackling of fireworks. The sky, which you thought the sun would never set for, was darkened with the smoke from the war 2B and 9S constantly talked about. The colors were brightened against it, making their visibility clearer and their colors vivid. With your eyes locked onto the sight before you, you tapped on 2B’s shoulder as a silent request to be let down. She complied, allowing you to step near the edge of the bridge to take a closer look at the fireworks.

You thought you couldn’t remember anything from the old world, yet the moment you gazed upon the fireworks lighting up the sky; you remembered them instantaneously. You remembered their putrid smell, how loud they could be, and the fear you used to harbor for them when you were younger.

Even if you used to be scared of them, even if you thought they were too loud and hated the way they smelled; at this moment, you thought they were the prettiest things you’ve ever seen.

Tears gathered at the corners of your eyes and it was only until you felt them run down your cheeks that you paid them any mind. Though before you could even attempt to wipe them, you felt the distinct sensation of leather gently running across your cheek.

2B stood at your side, looking down at you with a small smile on her face, one you gladly returned. She doesn’t ask you the reason for your tears, nor does she look hurt by their appearance. She lets you be, standing at your side for as long as you allow her whilst providing unspoken support. It warmed you to the deepest part of your heart. Her kindness, although silent and unvoiced, was always apparent to you. She cared deeply for you. You didn’t need her to say it for you to know.

Your hand slips into hers all too naturally and under the crackling fireworks above, you think of only the promising future.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

extra:

“Why do you like to carry me so much?”

The question was asked more straightforward than what they were used to hearing from you. If there was anything 2B and 9S learned from their journey with you so far, it was that you never said what you felt. You looked for gentler ways to word your questions as if your care would be understood by androids who had no grasp of discretion.

2B, like always, never fails to leave your question unanswered and replies as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Because you’re warm.”

2B’s forthright reply even shocked 9S who was walking alongside her. “2B! Don’t you think that’s a little. . .”

You blushed slightly at her reply, burying your face against her shoulder as if that would take away from your embarrassment. From your place on her back, you were unable to see what kind of face she was making. As if that damned blindfold would give you the opportunity anyway. Though you doubted she would feel even a pinch of shame. 2B spoke nothing but the truth and that only made her words all the more brazen.

“What? You don’t agree?” She pauses in her steps, turning towards him which then forces you to face him as well. “Have you never touched her?”

You felt as if you would just die right then and there, yet you can’t help yourself from timidly peeking out at 9S from over 2B’s shoulder. He looks like he’s in thought for a moment, with a gloved hand on his chin and his lips twisted to the side. There’s only a moment’s delay between 2B’s question and his answer.

“Well. . . yeah, you’re not wrong. She’s even nicer to hug.”

Having enough of this conversation, you raise up your head to throw 9S a light glare. “Guys, can we please just get back to camp already?”

Throwing his hands up, 9S cheekily grins at you before continuing down the road towards the resistance camp. 2B follows shortly after him, her lips spread into an equally amused smile. While it might have been normal for 9S to show emotion resembling that of a human’s the feeling that stirred in 2B’s chest was quite foreign to her. She didn’t know what to call this feeling, but she didn’t hate it. It was a delightful buzz, one that she often felt around you and only you.

“Humans are softer than I imagined.” She added, her smile brightening at the sound of your muffled groan.

9S didn't hesitate to tag in on the teasing even from his place further ahead of you. “You know, I think we should include that in our report to the Commander. . .”

“Guys!”

[genshin-impacted]

lost & found // Diluc x Reader (2/3)

Word Count: ~5.0k

Notes: GN!Reader, Seelie!Reader, Diluc/Reader, includes more Mondstadt people interaction such as Klee, Albedo, and Kaeya, see why I had to split it into 3 parts now

Summary: Despite being a seelie, you and Diluc are inseparable. You aren't sure what you are or why you are here, but you know for certain you want to be wherever Diluc is through every adventure and misadventure. (And throughout it all, you get closer and closer to him.)

Alternatively: The two of you lose and find each other over and over again.

[Part 1] [Part 3]

.

.

You are satisfied with your life as a seelie, being Diluc’s partner in vigilante justice as the Darknight Hero (though when he goes out as the Darknight Hero, you’re usually hiding underneath his coat, all cozied up) and being able to spend your days by his side. Most days you are content without the answers to the questions of your origins or why you are different because Diluc accepts you for what you are regardless, as his radar for trouble and as his trusted companion.

It is only on the days where Diluc does not speak to you, burdened by the emotions of his past, withdrawing into himself at the familiarity of solitude, that you wish you are not what you are. There is very little you can offer in terms of comfort when compared to the warm arms and reassuring kisses of another person, but you make do with what you have.

You nuzzle into the crook of his neck in a semblance of a hug, and, though it takes a few tries to have Diluc understand what you were doing, your light touches to his forehead are the kisses you bestow upon him whenever his spirits are low.

“...Thank you,” he says to you when you lightly brush onto his temple, smiling when you twirl in the air, happy to have him receive your affections with full translation. He chuckles. “Would you like me to do the same for you?”

The squeaks of surprised embarrassment that follows make him laugh, and you imagine if you could speak, you wouldn’t be able to say anything of coherence with how equally flustered and pleased you feel. You don’t want to conflate any of his gestures, but you think that Diluc’s ability to tease you is a testament to how close you have gotten, even though his remarks make you feel giddy.

(If anyone else were in the vicinity they would think to themselves how rare that they see Master Diluc laughing so easily, though this is a thought that would not have crossed your mind considering this is a Diluc you have always seen. He is more youthful, less burdened, when he is near you. Is it because you are a seelie or is it because he is not bound by expectations when you have only known him for who he is?)

His ability to understand you and his unwavering trust in you despite your inability to do many things is something that you cherish. As such, you find ways to help Diluc wherever you can: temporarily swallowing small items to bring to him, being a literal light in the dark, and caring for his well-being wherever you can. The next time Kaeya drops by the tavern, stating something about treasure hoarders, a big expedition, and something about Dragonspine, he drops off a young girl about eight years old who introduces herself as Klee, and you find yourself in a new position as a babysitter.

And you are happy to glow, squeak, and fly in different shapes to make Klee laugh. You would be lying to yourself if her laughter didn’t make you happy, but it’s in addition to the fact that Diluc can finally rely on you. The grateful glances he keeps giving you over the shoulder when he caters to the tavern guests is invigorating. And if the tavern weren’t so well-lit, Klee would be able to see how you glow brighter in response to your emotions.

As perfect as Diluc may be (no, you are not biased), you find that you are surprisingly better at handling Klee. It’s not as though Diluc is completely helpless-- he responds to Klee’s questions just fine, speaking to her more as though she were an adult than a kid. You think Klee likes it for how she eagerly nods despite not understanding what Diluc is saying. It's just, for once, you may have an advantage because you are a seelie, and Klee absolutely adores you simply for existing. It’s a lot easier to entertain and play with her as a glowing ball of light than as a tavern-keeper, but you consider this a win anyways because you can finally help Diluc in a way that matters, considering the look of relief he shoots you when you’re able to distract her.

Your role as a babysitter goes well… until it doesn’t.

"It was nice playing with you, little seelie!" Klee chimes cheerfully. You coo at her, right up till the point she says, "Let's play another time, okay?"

Where are you going? You squeak, flying in front of Klee as she packs up her things. You nervously look at Diluc, hoping he can see you with how you flash your light like a siren, but his back is turned.

Klee only giggles. "Do you want to come with me too? Let's go!" She says, bounding out the door with terrifying timing when everyone's too distracted to stop her. You watch with growing horror as she runs with arms outstretched into the streets of Mondstadt, and you only have a split second to decide to follow after her before losing her completely. (In retrospect, perhaps it would have been better to tell Diluc, considering how little you could do as a seelie, but you forget that at times, especially in moments like these.)

You follow Klee, glancing around nervously for any roaming hilichurl or abyss mage. Miraculously, the two of you don't run into any enemies, though you did urge her to go around the path when you spot a few of them walking toward you. This is out of my pay grade, you think warily, and if you had a heart still, it would be beating rapidly with the self-contained panic every time you narrowly miss a confrontation with an unsavory crowd.

When Klee leads you into Dragonspine, which you now know to be a snowy terrain whose chill is cold enough to make you shiver, you want to cry. Where are you going? You want to ask, Why are we here? You watch as Klee picks a random direction to go in, and you can only follow her, twirling around sources of heat at every opportunity so that she knows where she can stay warm.

Having Diluc here would be nice, you think, as you float next to the orange seelie that radiates warmth much like a campfire. The fires Diluc would light easily if he were here, the warmth he would exude for how hot pyro users run... You think warily that you're going to make him worry again, having disappeared with Klee, but for some reason, you feel reassured that he'll find you again eventually.

It is many minutes traveling in Dragonspine when Klee puts a finger to her lip and asks you, "Do you think you can find my big brother?"

Here you are, following Klee this entire time, only to find out you are both lost. Next time, you think to yourself, as Klee describes her big brother Albedo and you quietly listen, no matter how Diluc looks at you, you don't think you can ever accept being a babysitter ever again.

(When you're attacked by hilichurls, you think of distracting them as Klee runs to safety, but then she throws literal explosives at them to defeat them soundly and you think that at least there is one less thing to worry about.)

.

.

.

You let your instinct take the lead this time, as something within you pulls in a certain direction. Asides from the basic investigative skills (footsteps here, disturbed bush there), it is a miracle that you lead Klee to the encampment that Albedo had set up for his experiments in Dragonspine. It's not as though the path was particularly hard to traverse, but it did take some backtracking and maneuvering around Fatui camps (will Diluc end up fighting them looking for you, you wonder). You breathe a sigh of relief when you see Klee leap up to hug the blond, doe-eyed alchemist whose eyes widen at her arrival.

“Kl-Klee? How did you get here?” Albedo stammers, looking over her before landing on you. You simply twirl in the air in greeting, and the alchemist can only blink. (You never realize this, but this is one of the very rare moments Albedo is ever flustered-- courtesy of Klee.)

Klee goes on a long monologue about you as well as the adventure to get here, Albedo nodding in understanding ever so often, when you hear the crunch of snow behind you. Your mood lifts along with your body as you recognize the familiar tuft of red hair against the whitest of snow.

“There you are,” Diluc says, setting down his broadsword. He sounds out-of-breath, most likely weary from the fact the two of you disappeared and from the climb to get to Dragonspine. You glow immediately from his evident relief, and you race to him, nuzzling into his neck in an affectionate hug to which he immediately responds by brushing the back of his gloved hand onto you.

How did you find me again? You ask, easily sitting on the hand Diluc offers you.

“Kaeya told me that Albedo was in Dragonspine,” he explains. “Knowing Klee, this was the first place I thought to go to, and I know you wouldn’t let yourself split off from her.”

You nod sagely, though that line of thought would have made sense to anyone who generally knew Mondstadt geography. You look up at Diluc in confusion when he pets you.

“I would have found you anyway,” he says softly, “even if you weren’t together.” You feel yourself grow warm. “I’ll always find a way to find you.”

(Even in this snow? You wonder, even in this frigid wonderland? Through the driest of deserts and coldest of oceans? And you can imagine that if you had asked him this, he would have said ‘yes,’ though that was just what you hoped.)

You coo softly, flying up to gently press your face to his cheek in a gentle kiss, and the smile that Diluc gives you, you think, should be warm enough to melt even the snow on Dragonspine.

.

.

.

.

When the wind grows harsh in the changing of times, you find flowers of blue and white hidden amongst the fields of grass. And when Stormterror abandons his domain, you lead Diluc to a red, crystalline teardrop that neither of you can touch without protection. You thank the stars Diluc is not a man to shy away from danger, especially when it pertains to the safety of Mondstadt, because he follows you wherever you lead him-- finding teardrop after teardrop scattered across lands festered with monsters.

(“It’s a well-kept secret, despite the way he acts,” Diluc says, leaning on his propped-up arm by the fireplace. He huffs in laughter when you trill-- my lips are sealed!-- and the two of you would watch the embers slowly die out. )

It has become more and more evident as time goes on that you are more than you appear. Your small size and dedication to following Diluc are already indicative of your unique nature as a seelie. What makes you particularly distinct is your penchant to find things or people that many would consider strange. Even before you found these objects, being able to find the elusive Venti would be indicative enough. You don't know what was so strange of him besides his eternally youthful appearance and talent of disappearing into the wind (you thought that was just what people could do, okay?) until Diluc tells you of his godly origins one late night in the winery.

Your proclivity for the unique is something that does not go unnoticed by Albedo.

“I would greatly appreciate being able to tag along on your next journey. I’m very interested in seeing what you, as a seelie, can do,” Albedo tells you. When you meekly titter in Diluc’s direction, Albedo raises his hands reassuringly. “Ah. Don’t be nervous. It’s quite alright if you don’t lead us to anything. It’s all part of the process. Klee has told me much of what you can do, and I’m simply interested in learning more about you, as special as you are.”

Diluc looks to you, waiting for your response as you float in the air, pondering. You cock your head to the side, and he only shrugs, answering the nonverbal question you shoot at him.

“You’re the guide. It’s up to you,” he says, and that is all you need to look back at Albedo (who has been observing everything thus far with keen eyes) and bob yourself up and down in agreement.

“We can meet at Windrise in one week’s time,” Diluc says to Albedo.

Albedo nods, taking one last look at you before pushing himself off the tavern stool, ending the conversation until next week-- that is if Kaeya were not there.

“You aren’t planning to go on an adventure without me, are you?” He says, and Diluc can only sigh.

.

.

The week passes quickly and the four of you (Diluc reluctantly allowing Kaeya to accompany the three of you) meet up at the Statue of the Seven near Windrise. You prove yourself once again when you lead Diluc, Kaeya, and Albedo on an off-trail route to Daudapa Gorge. They all follow you, climbing up the cliffside, until you lead them to an unusual hilichurl of blue hair and a talisman on its mask. To keep with the consistency of your battle-filled wanderlust, the unusual hilichurl starts throwing items-- some of which you can recognize from your previous(?) life and some of which you’ve never even seen before. The barrage of things is incessant until fire, ice, and bursting flowers make him escape into his suitcase, leaving behind strange four-pointed stars that glimmer for a moment before disappearing, much to Albedo’s disappointment.

The silence that follows after the oddest encounter you have ever led Diluc to is deafening. You can’t even bear to turn your body to face Diluc who you know is looking at you with a (fondly) exasperated expression. “Trying to outdo yourself every week, aren’t you?” He asks, and if you could, you know that you would be blushing.

Kaeya makes it a point to make your embarrassment worse, as he often likes doing. (You know Kaeya shows his affection through teasing remarks, but oh, what you wouldn’t do to be able to retort back to him once without Diluc having to come to your rescue.) “Your mini seelie finds a lot of strange things, don’t they?” He says, giving you a cat-nipped smile when you bristle and squeak. “Maybe the seelie thinks you’re strange Diluc. Maybe that’s why it follows you around--”

“Shut up, Kaeya.”

“That’ll cost you, you know.”

You watch the two bicker back and forth in a manner that is now very familiar to you, not noticing the alchemist observing you in the background.

“I’d like to test something if that’s alright with you.” Albedo suddenly says to you. “Nothing painful,” he reassures you, even though you hadn’t said a word. “I’ll simply be asking you to do your best to find Master Diluc to test a theory of mine.”

Why Diluc? You wonder.

“Why me?” Diluc repeats your thoughts. “I didn’t realize we would still be under observation after this one journey.” You think Diluc sounds testy-- in a manner that is unlike whenever Kaeya drops by his tavern and more like when fire abyss mages show up on your path. You are alarmed, unsure why you feel the tension rise despite Albedo’s unbothered demeanor.

And while Diluc would never thank Kaeya for his quick wit and way with words, you definitely would, especially when he jumps into the conversation with an easy lilt to his voice to de-escalate the situation (for once). “A-ha, worried that your time with your precious companion is being encroached upon, Master Diluc?” He teases, “Or perhaps you’re afraid you’ll be separated from your precious seelie?”

“Kaeya--”

“Your relationship with your seelie is unique, just as your seelie and its abilities are unique,” Albedo interjects before Diluc could pull out his greatsword. “I’d like to qualitatively and quantitatively define them, if possible.”  He pauses, addressing you directly. “I thought this would prove fruitful for you as well if you were ever wondering what your... purpose is, as one might say.”

How rare it is to have an opportunity like this just fall into your metaphorical hands, you think. You are interested in knowing more about yourself. It wouldn’t change much about how you want to stay with Diluc, but there is a sense of peace knowing what you can and cannot do. In Albedo, you see a man of science through-and-through (even though he evidently defies the laws of transmutation you learned from a certain anime). He sees things for what they are, always addressing you when he wants to talk to you, and recognizing that you can speak for yourself. In some ways, he is no different from Diluc, who has never demanded you to be more than what you are as his companion.

If you decide to do something, Diluc respects your decision-- which is why he only watches you quietly as you croon in agreement. You glance over at Diluc to wait for his consent as well, and he can only sigh. (You don’t know it, but he cannot say ‘no’ to you.)

“I have one condition.” When Albedo nods, Diluc continues, “We do nothing to put them in danger. Is that clear?”

“Crystal,” Albedo says immediately, and you almost miss what he says next, as distracted as you are by how Diluc comes closer to you almost protectively. “I’ll converse with you to let you know what you’ll be doing, but there should be no harm done to anyone during this experiment. How does the day after tomorrow sound?”

.

.

.

Diluc heads to Dragonspine without you, for what feels to be the first time in forever. Now that you think about it, has Diluc ever been separated from you the same way you have been separated from him? Even though you’re the seelie, he’s always the one finding you-- have you ever needed to find him?

You want to be able to find Diluc as flawlessly as Diluc can do for you. You want to know, and you especially want Diluc to know that you will always be able to return to him no matter what. Succeeding in this self-given trial of yours will provide definitive proof whether or not you can. With that thought in mind as you float up the slopes of Dragonspine, you think there’s a lot more at stake after all.

You titter nervously when you find Albedo in his camp, and when he spots you, he waves you over as he prepares for the journey with you. “I told your companion to get a headstart,” he says to you. “I won’t know where he’s gone either, so it’s a double-blind experiment. Feel free to use any way you see fit to find him and I’ll follow you.”

You nod dutifully, and when he does nothing else but follow your movement with his eyes, you realize that those were the only instructions you were given. Find Diluc, you think to yourself. Should you start to conjure an image of him in your mind to guide you? That was easy enough to do: half-lidded red eyes that soften when he sees you, red hair you’ve dazed off in more than once, black coat he’s used to shield you from the weather despite your immunity to it, and black boots that are worn to the heel when he follows you.

You are only a few steps away from the camp when you feel a growing panic, for no matter how much you think of Diluc, you don’t feel anything telling you where to go.

When you guide Diluc, even if it’s an impromptu journey, you feel a pull to go somewhere. You’ve once thought it to be your whims but after finding so many other things on purpose and having that same familiar pull, you know that it isn’t just your curiosity guiding you. You conjure up his image, you think of how much you want to find him, and still-- nothing.

How are you going to find him now?

You follow those footsteps, with not much else to go on, and you hope with all your might that perhaps these are the only signs you need to find him. When you reach a snowstorm, your heart falls, only to see that the heat source midst of the snowstorm has been activated. In a place with newly fallen snow and no fireplace, you see a tree with the snow shaken off from its lower branches, and that's when you realize that these are clues that Diluc has left for you.

You look frantically around, following the most likely path he would have taken out, and are met with crossroads. You're tempted to choose a random road and stick with it, but your random choices and the instincts you have been using this entire time are not the same. If you could, you would grunt in frustration, but it comes out as a high-pitched squeal instead (that Albedo takes note of just in case). How were you supposed to-- and then you see footsteps clear as day around the bend of rocks and realize it's Diluc’s.

Does he know, you wonder, that you do not know how to find him? Or did he leave these signs regardless just to make sure you do?

Diluc wants you to find him-- and you find it hard to explain why that means so much to you.

You follow the footsteps, the snow, the branches, and the flames with growing anticipation to see that bright tuft of hair amidst the whitest snow you've ever seen. You're led into an icy opening where heat sources have been activated, and it's hard to contain your excitement when you notice that all of them are activated. You're so close to him; you can feel it.

You rush to the center, hoping to see Diluc-- only to see a gaping chasm where the ice broke, and your heart freezes over.

"Ruin guards," Albedo murmurs, taking note the same time you do that there are various irreparable ruin guards within the hole. If Albedo says anything, if anyone else shows up afterward, you do not notice. The only thing in your mind was the worst-case scenario: Diluc might be hurt, and you didn't know how to find him.

You jet off into the chasm, flying from corner to corner to find him. Every time you see a gleam of red, you desperately hope it is him, but it's just shards of scarlet quartz Diluc must have broken to keep himself warm. Follow it, you think, follow the trail-- quickly!

The path leads to a waterfall where enemies are littered on the ground, including an ice lawachurl right in the river's path. Diluc, you think, following the line of arrows up the snowy hill. You fly up and up and up and as the footsteps fade and you grow colder, you think chillingly that if you were cold, then--

What would you do if he got hurt? What would you do if you could never find him ever again?

No! You think, no, no! Your barely contained composure breaks again with the rising panic. You zip forward, searching for the nearest heat source and praying (to Barbatos, perhaps, or any other god out there that Diluc has yet to tell you-- that he promised to tell you about) that Diluc is there. In the face of your great love for Diluc and the helplessness that comes with it, you have never felt so lost.

Overlooking a tree, you spot an orange seelie-- a heat seelie!-- and speed to it where it slowly looks in your direction. Can you please, you begin desperately, help me find someone? He must have come here before. Red hair, black clothes, big sword? You spot another looking your way and you ask it the same thing. You attract another and you repeat yourself again.

Please, you tell them, I need to find him.

Slowly but steadily, they all look in one direction, and you are off at once. (You forget to say thank-you; you're normally better than that, but you hope the seelies can forgive you just this once.) You fly as fast as you can, begging whoever is listening that the seelies did not mistake someone else for Diluc. And when you see Diluc at the campsite, you finally can breathe again.

Unharmed, his head in a towel to dry off his wet hair, Diluc is fine. You can barely believe what you’re seeing as you numbly float to him, checking him from head to toe for any injuries you can perceive. You don't feel as though you're doing that well of a job though, considering the only thing running through your head that he was safe and what would you have done if he wasn't--

Before you reach him Diluc turns his head to you like clockwork, as if he always knows when you are here. (There are those red eyes again, you think, and wonder if his affection for you will ever run out.)

“Ah, there you are,” he says, almost as frantically as you felt finding him. “I was about to go look for you since you weren't with Albedo." He gives you a smile when you slowly approach him. "I was worried," he says, "I--" He freezes in the middle of his sentence, eyes widening before slowly softening with every passing moment watching you. “Hey,” he says tenderly, raising his hands to cup you close to him. “It’s okay. I’m fine; I’m here.”

If Diluc ever doubted how much you cared for him, he does not have to look any further than the tears that drop down your translucent body, disappearing before they fall off of you. You don’t understand how you can cry, considering what you are (and the lack of tear ducts), but you do anyways, ears drooping as all your worries, concerns, and relief manifest into tears.

I’m so glad you’re okay! Your trills and squeaks are nothing more than hiccups in-between tears. I’m sorry I couldn’t find you earlier!

And Diluc does his best to wipe away the droplets that come from where your eyes would be as he continues to soothe you through them. “You found me,” he says, voice warm like the hands he holds you in. You don't have the strength in you to tell him otherwise when he repeats it to you again and makes you believe it. “You found me.”  

.

.

.

.

You spend the next half-hour or so with Sucrose who calms you down a great amount. Her genuine eagerness for alchemy combined with her shy, nervous demeanor is something that endears her to you quickly, especially when she is trying her best to make you feel better by rambling about her latest experiments.

With the worry for Diluc gone, you feel reaffirmed in your relationship with him. You are sad and will be for a while, that you do not have the talent to find Diluc whenever you can, but you are reassured by your determination to do so despite it.

Getting lost and being found again-- it seems as though that’s the cycle the two of you have started together.

“I apologize for causing you distress.” You perk up from your position above the alchemy table when Albedo walks back to you after a brief conversation with Diluc over the bubbling mechanisms on the table.

“Dragonspine is still an unpredictable terrain and I had not taken into consideration that there would be problems using this area as our testing ground,” Albedo says with a twinge of regret. You can understand him well enough to know that he truly did not intend for the day to be so emotional, so you squeak in response and fly in a loop. He looks relieved when you do, and you think for a brief moment that perhaps he isn’t so hard to read after all.

“Though the procedure was… unexpected, I hope you learned more about yourself as I have.” He waits as you eagerly nod in agreement, and you see him briefly hesitate. “...There’s a type of loneliness in being different. I’m sure you know this very well,” he says quietly as you float. “If you wish to learn more about what you are, feel free to visit any time. I will be happy to help.” The smile he gives you is partly fond as it is lonely, and you can only fly up to gently bump your head against his in response. “Until next time then,” he says with a tone of finality. “Perhaps when your companion isn’t so protective over you.” (Which is unlikely, Albedo thinks, but not impossible.)  

Until next time, you say, watching as Albedo walks away into the snowy terrain. You spot Diluc, hands crossed as always as he leans against the darkened bark in a manner that is so reminiscent of the first time you found him. You feel oddly nostalgic as he watches you intently. Then, you do a somersault, and, going full circle, he smiles at you.

“Let’s go home,” he says to you, and you follow him, just as you did in the very beginning when you found him.

(If there is anything that the two of you could conclude at the end of this, it is the confirmed knowledge that the two of you would go till the ends of Teyvat to find each other again.)

--

[temp taglist]

@thetwinkims @loveyoutothestars @ninqat @winterptilopsis @nya-vivi @just-noelle

[levisgirll]

Hello! Can you please do a Levi headcanon/scenario where he hurts his crush's feelings and makes her cry but later regrets it and tries to apologise to her? Thanks!

𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙜𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 (𝙇𝙚𝙫𝙞 𝘼𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣 𝙭 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧)

➡text: Hello there!! And omg of course I would be happy to write this out 🥺 the fact that to see levi apologize or own up to his mistakes is something that I would like to even write about- so thank you for this request! I hope you love it anon ♥ (incoming some fluff and you wont regret it!)

synopsis:  it was a long tiring day and with under pressure levi ackerman had, he accidently said something to y/n (his crush!) which hurt her feelings. levi feels terrible and to make it up for it, made y/n realize that levi and her might share the same feelings for each other.

fluff, angst, aot world, imagine fanfiction ♡ —

It was a long stressful day at the Survey crops headquarters building, and Captain Levi was assigned with many paper work to get done with.

The last expedition made Levi worry quite a lot for Y/N and her safety. Sure she was skilled, and a fast thinker but that still did not stop Levi from worrying about her. It was because he was the captain he had to worry about his squad....right?

But after Y/N getting hurt on the last expedition because she is kind of ‘reckless’ to what Levi thinks and used as an excuse, his heart sank and he then realized not only did he care about her too much, but he also developed feelings for her and with time it grew. Just her presence, the way she was, caring, friendly, confident, her natural beauty and a badass made him fall for her more.

But ever since on that day, he blamed himself for her getting injured because she was on his squad team.

The upcoming expedition was next month and he was becoming even more stressed and load with paperwork because it was a bigger mission this time they never had. Y/N obviously noticed that so after having a chat with Hanji she went by to his office and entered inside. They become more comfortable with each other so she was pleased to enter his office whenever she wanted to.

“Hi Levi, how are you?” she said with a bright smile, trying to light up the mood that was surrounding in his office.

“What do you think sherlock?” He spoke in a sarcastic tone and then let out a deep sigh. “O-Oh, Um I was wondering if you would like some help with the paperwork? I am free the whole day.” Her kind gestures always somehow warmed his heart, he liked the fact how in her free time she would always visit Levi and try her best to help him. But tonight was different, it was too much pressure loaded on him, he was not thinking straight.

He didn't respond to her offer and instead he got up from his seat behind the desk and gave her a piece of paper. “Read.” Was what he only said.

You took the paper from him and noticed....you were removed him Levi’s squad! “W-What....why.” You said so quietly but it had a very unhappy tone.

“You know why. You are too reckless, and I don't want that in my squad.” He lied and looked away, it was not because of your recklessness and never was because you were brave and perceptive. But in fact, it was because he wanted to keep you safe and away from harm because this time his squad was placed on the front and he moved you all the way on the back where it was safer. He does not want to lose you.

“I-I don't understand Levi...I though you trusted me-”

“Yea I don't trust you, and I clearly don't have time for you either.” You couldn't believe what he was saying to you, this behavior was out of nowhere and it made absolutely no sense! But, he was your source of motivation and inspiration and when he said that to you, it shattered your heart to pieces. You thought he had faith and trust in you and that's why he added you to his squad, you thought....you were important to him. Well, was important.

“Levi, please this makes no sense. At least explain to me why!” You yelled out, demanding an explanation for what the hell was evening going on.

“Don't argue with me.” He now gave you one of his hateful glares, and you know in a million years you would never be getting that from him, you were completely taken aback now. “Leave now! That’s an order L/N”.

You eyes were widen now, and your eyes were slowly starting to tear up. These words, completely damaged you and your feelings, he even called you by your last name which he never does. You never felt so hurt and your stomach sank which left you static and....heartbroken. Hearing this is a ego-killer for you. The paper you held slowly fell off from your hand, and you brought your hand up to cover your eyes and started to softly sob.

He noticed that quickly, and he wanted to come and comfort you but before he could do that you stormed off, slamming his door, y/n never wanting to see his face again.

Levi took a moment to process everything and then realized he had actually messed up everything. Both of you were so close and the bond and moments you both shared, Levi cherished that deeply. But, he ruined everything, shattered the bond, and now actually ironically losing you. He clenched his fist and closed his eyes tightly, “Fuck...The fuck is wrong with me?! Why am I so damn emotional.” And it was a fact, he was that when he bottled everything up and then let out his steam saying some bullshit.

It was days, and he didn’t even see or hear about Y/N. He did not get any sleep, staying up, overthinking his stupid mistake and regretting this all. His gilt, anger towards himself and grief started to grow by each day, hating himself how he hurt the person he had a crush on and someone he adored a lot which then lead to him thinking how to come to you with his true and deepest apology.

He tried to catch any chance to get you whenever you are alone and say apologize, but whenever he saw you, you would just jolt and try to run away and leave the place.

He then noticed from Hanji and the other scouts such as Armin and Mikasa that you were clearly avoiding Levi. He caught you by chance one evening as you were sitting down in the mass hall eating your sandwich alone so cutely and he just missed seeing that sight whenever you both had breaks and he would watch you eat cheerfully but....you were so down, that spirt was gone.

He was approaching you, and you then noticed that and felt your stomach sink, ‘Is he coming to me? Wait...he is, it’s only me here!’ You thought in your mind, panicking and not knowing what to do.

”Good evening.” He uttered, but you noticed there was some nervousness in that tone.

You did not look up at him and you left your sandwich that was half eaten on the plate, and got up. You lost your appetite, and you proceed to leave the mass hall, but you stopped in your steps when you heard Levi yell out. “No...d-don’t go. Please just stay for a bit.” The way he said it, was under such pain and he it sounded as if he was begging you. He really struggled doing this, but he would do it regardless if it was just to speak to you again for a bit.

He caught up to you, and took your wrist while his thumb was caressing your skin. You were still looking down, not wanting to see his face because you knew if you did now, you would tear up again.

“Can we talk please?” He said really quietly, and if the mass hall was not empty you wouldn't be able to grasp what he had said. Levi was clearly tensed and not sure if what he was doing is right, he never done this before, apologizing and talking about his feelings. But he would only, and only do this for the person he loved. Y/N.

“What do you want?” it came out more coldly then you expected and that made him hesitate. He remembered the image of your expression and you sobbing that day and it is still graved in his mind. He cant seem to get it out his head and he wanted to hear your forgiveness so it could go away.

“I fucked up, I know. But fuck, I...miss you.” He finally said, in a nervous and stuttering tone. He now moved his hand from your wrist to your soft and cold hands, and you could feel his warmth, warming your hand.

He brought up his other free hand and placed his palm on his forehead. Clearly this was hard for him and he felt such a jerk and an idiot cause all his words is now gone and he wasn’t sure how to say how apologetic he was and how you meant the world to him really.

But he know thought, How could he do this to someone who regularly checked on him, cared for him and also actually saw him as a normal person unlike the other scouts who thought he was heartless and just labeled as ‘strongest solider’. Y/N was the only who truly cared for his wellbeing and he admired that a lot. “Hey....I’m sorry. Everything I said wasn’t right. T-To be honest it was your bravery that made me fall for you...and care a lot more about you. So, please tell me What should I do to make it up for you?”

This caused you to finally look up to him and staring at his grey eyes, and after such a long time you were able to see his face clearly and close up which never fails to make your heart skip a beat. You stared at him for quite awhile, kind of surprised to what he said and the fact he was holding your hand meant a lot. But Levi took this as you still not wanting to talk to him, he wanted to say more and better things but he was quite bad formulating any more cause it him nervous and afraid to say something else to upset you further. He really did care about your feelings. “I won’t go....till I hear your answer. I waited long enough.”

You spoke, and after a long time hearing your voice this nearly made him tear up and that was because you were a big part of his life. “I can’t stay mad at you forever, so I forgive you. But, you hurted me and I cant forget that easily. But for now, Just....hold me.” You went near him and now placed both of your hands on his chest. He did not waste any second and pulled you in for a hug. It was probably his first time hugging you like this and he never knew it would make him have this fuzzy and sweet feeling like this. Of course, he would hold on to your waist, arm and shoulders sometimes during battle or when you needed some support to get up and move. But this was different, and he questioned himself how he never considered that.

Y/N and Levi both finally made up with each other, and he was really grateful for that and even the fact you forgave someone like Levi, he felt really lucky.

Of course, it will take some time for you to accept his apology, but he wont give up just yet and he really makes an effort everyday, you guys took it slow and he is more than willing to wait for you ♥

As, regret and remorse can lead a person to feel sorrow, this can cause a sense of sorrow for hurting someone such as Levi’s crush, and even though it was bad, this lead to him finally confessing and saying his true apology if it weren’t for this. Time is a healing process after all.

Once you finally sat down with Levi and talked back (after the countless times he tried to initiate a conversation or start something such as cleaning together but never got much a reaction from you) and had a small conversation with him asking how was his day. This melted his heart and he actually felt really happy inside that you finally started to speak to him. He missed your company, your sweet voice, and....that smile.

You surprised him further when you gave him tea (because he gave you so many things to somehow make you smile) and his eyes lit up, Levi never felt so happy in the last few weeks. Then he knew, that you. y/n, was his light and source of happiness. He drank the tea slowly cherishing it.

wow okay this was kind of emotional then I excepted it to be, but I honestly see a scenario like this happening where levi struggles and tries his best to own up his mistake and apologize and he would only be like this if it was to his crush and someone he loved cause this man gets nervous <3 so please y/n, give him some more hugs, he might not seem to ask for any but he is deeply inside craving for it. It’s his best comfort as it is coming from you! Anyways, please leave a like or a reblog if you enjoyed this and I hope you liked this anon 💖

[bleachhaven]

Soutaicho’s Secret Admirer (Shunsui x Reader) — Part 5/6

Author’s Note:

It should be noted that this story is almost coming to a close...I’m sad to stop writing about Shunsui but it’s time to wrap this one up. So there’s maybe 1 or 2 more parts left.

Warning: A bit of smut ahead. One can only be seduced endlessly for so long without something happening about it.

–

Read Part 1, Part 2 , Part 3  and Part 4 first!

Uncharacteristically, Shunsui was late to arrive at the office. It was almost ten in the morning when he finally strolled in. Nanao would have admonished him without a thought but the dark circles beneath his eyes revealed he had already had a terrible night. She didn’t want to make it a terrible morning as well.

Shunsui didn’t have the excuse of drunken debauchery at some late night party for his tardiness. The last party he’d been to had been Lisa-chan’s Valentine’s Day celebration and that was over two weeks ago.

It was more or less about how his loneliness and melancholy had kept him up late into the night. Something he definitely didn’t want to burden sweet Nanao-chan about.

He had found himself strolling randomly in seireitei at around three in the goddamn morning because simply staying in his bed staring at his ceiling felt impossible. He didn’t have these kind of difficult nights too often but when he did have them, they were quite terrible.

Sure, he missed Juu. But his loneliness was a bit more than that this time.

It has been over two weeks since he had received anything from his beloved Secret Admirer. Fourteen whole days of complete silence from her was quite unusual, and he felt it acutely. Where was she?

The darkest of thoughts had plagued him at night. What if she was sent on a dangerous mission? What if she had been injured? He hated to think it...but what if she was never coming back? Hadn’t he honestly lost enough? 

The thoughts spiraled as the evening progressed into the wee hours of the morning, growing darker and more melancholy.

He knew he was not the greatest catch in the Soul Society. That title fell to Byakuya, uncontested. Shunsui was older than everyone in seireitei - a thousand years too old, he’d say. He was nobility too but he wasn’t one to truly fit into that mould, which deterred most noblewomen from considering him. 

He wasn’t what one would call conventionally handsome either. He knew he wasn’t ugly...but he wasn’t exactly...whole. Not anymore. Maybe once he would have held some appeal and he had many lovers who thought him handsome enough to have a tumble with him... but the eyepatch never failed to remind him that he was never going to be good looking, by anyone’s standards, with a goddamn hole in his face.

Most days, none of this would honestly bother him. But last night it did.

His beloved Secret Admirer probably came to the conclusion that he wasn’t worth all the trouble after all. Surely, there had to be a reason why he had never been able to have a long term relationship. He blamed it on his job but...was that all it was? Maybe he was just not meant to have a happily ever after with someone.

As romantic as he was, he didn’t really believe in the concept of happily ever after. He knew relationships were work. It was a commitment between two people who cared about each other to work on staying together through whatever. With time, he had put any thoughts of a relationship on the back burner. With his duty to the Gotei 13, and his responsibilities as well as the added burden of maintaining his reputation as the Soutaicho...it was a practical choice. 

But his Secret Admirer had made him want. Had made him yearn for a happily ever after for himself in a way he never had before.

He wanted to be loved and cherished as much as he wanted to love and cherish that one special person in his life. But did he really deserve it?

He knew it was her silence that had his latent insecurities rising to the surface keeping him up at night.

So as sleep deprived as he was, he came to the office with a plan. He couldn’t bear her silence anymore so he was not going to. With everything that had come up in the office, he hadn’t been able to finish up the letter he had started to write to her. At that time, it had felt futile considering there was no way to send it to her. 

But he had a brilliant idea. He would have it published in the next installment of the Seireitei Communication including just enough information so that she would know it’s him while withholding enough details to still keep it anonymous. He could trust Hisagi-kun to be discreet.

He had a plan, and it could actually work!

If only he could actually find that bit of lavender paper he had left on his desk.

“Nanao-chan, did you remove anything from my desk by any chance?” he asked, opening up drawers and bending down to check under the desk.

Nanao looked up from the training schedule she was working on. “Nothing more than the usual paperwork. Why what have you lost now?” she asked with an overexaggerated sigh.

“My, my, Nanao-chan. You make it sound like I lose things on a daily basis.”

“The only thing lost on a daily basis around here is my sanity,” she said, rolling her eyes. Still she relented. A distressed Taicho always meant a distressed Nanao. “Fine. Describe it to me and I will tell you if I saw it anywhere.”

“It was nothing official. Just a bit of lavender paper I had been writing on…” he trailed off seeing the look on her face. “What? Did you see it?”

“You lost the letter you were writing to you Secret Admirer?” she asked.

“Nanao-chan! How did you…?”

“You forget, Taicho,” she said quite matter of factly. “There’s nothing that goes on here I don’t know about. But I haven’t seen it. Maybe it got mixed up in some paperwork and got sent to another division. I don’t think anyone would recognize your flowery handwriting which you reserve for your personal correspondence anyway. So nothing to worry about.”

Shunsui simply stared at her. He has known his little fuktaicho for too long to not notice that something was off. All this time, he thought she was just laughing at his expense because he was mooning over someone he didn’t even know. But now...that look...the way she said it without even having to think about it...it all felt fishy somehow. Nanao-chan was up to something.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” she huffed, correcting the papers on her desk that didn’t need correcting. A nervous habit that always gave her away. “If you don’t have any serious work, I have a pile of forms…”

“You know perfectly well who it is, don’t you, Nanao-chan?” he interrupted her attempts to distract him.

“I don’t know what you’re…”

“Please, Nanao-chan. It’s perfectly obvious you know exactly what I am talking about. Just...tell me…” he said.

He was so serious and intent. Nanao had only ever seen him like that in the heat of the worst kind of battle. She dropped her pretenses as well.

“She and I have both left enough breadcrumbs for you as it is. So if you’re so desperate to know who she is, why don’t you do the work to actually find out?” she asked him. “Clearly the girl cares about you but is terrified to approach you. Who wouldn’t be considering who you are and the position you hold. She is a nice girl, Taicho. But as things stand, she wouldn’t be the one to approach you so maybe you should find out for yourself who she is and do the approaching.”

So Nanao did indeed know who his Secret Admirer was. He understood her reasons why she couldn’t tell him. It wasn’t really her secret to divulge. Shunsui had to respect that despite his desperation.

“Is my sweet Nanao-chan giving her taicho dating advice?” he teased instead.

“Yes, I am,” she declared with a raised brow. “For even I can see how far you’ve fallen that you need advice from me to get yourself a date!”

Shunsui gasped, buying into the friendly teasing. “Nanao-chan is so mean to her taicho!”

Finally, they both got back to work, but Shunsui’s mind was still thinking about what Nanao had said. Apparently breadcrumbs were laid out and he hadn’t even noticed! He clearly had to pay more attention.

He tried to outline the facts in his mind. 

The letters were always lemon scented. It could be a shampoo or some kind of scented cream...but it smelled fresh, almost as if unintentional. Something to further ponder upon. 

The gifts were always elaborate but simple and he hadn’t been able to trace it through any vendor. The chocolates were handmade so his little Secret Admirer was probably very good with cooking and baking. 

The handwriting was very distinctive as well. Especially the way she looped all her Ls and Bs with a distinctive flowy curve. 

So far, the facts didn’t fit well into place to identify her as anyone he knew...but somehow, it felt like it was just barely within reach now. As if it’s only missing one final puzzle piece for the whole thing to come together.

__

That night, sleep evaded him once more. He couldn’t deny it. He missed her! He couldn’t help but wishing that she was right next to him, romancing him with more than just her words. He wished he could cherish her in all the ways he desperately yearned to.

 He took the letters he kept at hand in the drawer of his bedside table. He found that he liked to read them sometimes, and no matter how many times he read her words, they still managed to make him feel things. The shape of her words, the texture of the paper...it comforted him.

However, the sensual seductive ones were his downfall.

With all the time he has been alive, and all the experience he’s had, one would think he would be able to resist the temptation. But he often couldn’t.

Reading those letters, describing how she wanted to make love under the moonlight or how she yearned to taste him...it had him imagining soft feminine hands touching him. His hand would unconsciously reach into his hakama of its own volition and grasp his manhood, wondering what it would feel like to be touched by someone who ardently wanted to please him.

It wouldn’t take him too long at all. He would cum, gasping into the empty bedroom, wishing he had a name he could moan. Wishing she was here for him to hold.

Sated, he’d finally fall asleep. Yet though his body was satisfied, his mind wasn’t. He couldn’t help but feel alone on this big empty bed.

__

That coveted final piece of the puzzle arrived as, of all things, more paperwork. He was mindlessly flipping through some reports after lunch the next day when it popped out at him like well-lit beacon.

It wasn’t anything special. Just a request for more funds to be allocated for a better training ground for the 13th division. Except it was filled out by his beloved Secret Admirer. The handwriting screamed her identity at him, looping Ls and Bs and all.

“_____-san,” he whispered to himself, wondering how he could have missed it.

Suddenly, everything was perfectly crystal clear. 

Everyone knew that while Kuchiki Rukia settled in enough to pick her own fuktaicho, the 3rd seat of the 13th was acting in that role in an unofficial capacity, putting her in-charge of all the paperwork coming and going from that division. A reason why she was always showing up at the 1st...giving her ample opportunities to learn his habits well enough to leave behind those delightful missives without ever getting caught.

The lemon scent was from all the lemonade he knew she made for her division and for some special occasions in the seireitei. It was her specialty, a way of creating comfort and homeliness for her subordinates. He had tasted her chocolates twice - once at the Valentine’s Day party itself and then when she gifted them to him specifically. Both facts which had been pointed out by Nanao-chan while _____-san stood right next to him. No wonder she had flushed red then. It hadn’t been out of embarrassment but possibly from thinking she might get caught. The little minx.

He couldn’t help but remember every encounter he had with her in the recent past. Her cute blushes...the way she gasped out “Soutaicho!” Come to think of it, every time he saw her, he felt like she almost called him Shunsui out of habit only to change it to his official title at the last minute. He even recalled the twinkle in her eyes every time she looked up at him.

He couldn’t believe it. He finally knew who his Secret Admirer was and she’d been right before his eyes, had he only known where to look. He couldn’t help smiling, thinking about all the ways he would get back at her for running him around in circles. He would torture her so, so deliciously…

“You have that dopey smile on your face. Should I be worried?” Nanao asked, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“Hmm…? Of course not, Nanao-chan,” he said, not really reassuring her at all. “I am heading out. Be back soon!” 

“Taicho!” she called out but he was already gone.

__

...to be continued.

__

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[iridescentparkers]

sour seventeen - peter parker

parings: peter parker x stark!reader

summary: peter wanted his birthday to be spectacular, considering it was only a few months after he lost tony. but so far, today seems as anything but that.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: slightly angsty at the beginning, but a sweet ending!

requested: no, but requests are open!

a/n: i know i'm a bit late to wish peter a happy birthday, but last minute I decided to make a mini series! i also think I wrote these so you can read them as a stand alone! I hope you all enjoy!

17.

Seventeen.

It sure didn’t have a nice ring to it. The awkward number before you reach adulthood and after you reach the peak of teenagedom at 16.

At seventeen, there was nothing to be excited about. With 16, you could get your license and possibly a new ride, then showing off the shiny new car around the city. At 18, you leave your childhood behind as you venture to college, and you even can vote, making change around you. Nothing extravagant as that came with 17.

Especially after falling victim to losing the ones you love most. Today’s celebration of life for Peter started as a saddened celebration of loneliness.

He was hoping today he would at least receive a ‘happy birthday’ from you and May, of all people, but you didn’t bother to call. Even a text would have sufficed. As Peter stirred from his sleeping position, he moved to groggily peer his eyes open and down at his phone, seeing there weren’t any notifications reminding him of today.

As he entered the living room, he went to greet his Aunt May, hoping she would wish him the happiest of birthdays, then followed by a small itinerary of things to do, like she typically had planned. But alas, nothing.

Even as he settled at his dining room table to eat the now soggy bowl of his favorite cereal, Peter scrolled for minutes on his phone for any message regarding today and saw nothing.

...or wait…

...now something.

Y/N: I didn’t see you at training this morning. You ok? Sent at 10:03 am

Y/N: Mom wants you to swing by and finish some upgrades for your suit ASAP. Get here when you can. Sent at 10:04 am

Today had a great deal of importance to him. Not for the parties, Tony would throw for him, where dozens, if not hundreds, of decorations were placed intricately along with the compound. Not to mention the larger-than-life guest list, filled with people that Peter knew nothing about or power-hungry vampires, just showing up to feed off the Stark name. But for the importance of spending time with the people that he had left. The ones that he cherished most. His guest list of people he would want at his less extravagant birthday party.

Was he going to make a big deal out of you forgetting today? No, because he knew how much you had been through these past few months. Did he want too? Absolutely, and he had every right to as well. He didn’t forget your birthday, or May’s, or Ned’s, or MJ’s, even Pepper and Morgan’s. He just wanted one day. One day to himself, one day without saving the world , one without anxiety or stress, and one without sorrow or loss. He didn’t just want it, Peter needed it.

Swinging his way to the Avengers compound, as he entered the living room, he saw Pepper smiling big as she touched the Bluetooth clung to her ear. She was sitting on the couch in one of her fancier outfits, a mid-length red dress, perfect for her skin tone. Her hair was pinned high in a rather neat bun as her bangs sat against her forehead.

“Peter!” She called out as she rose to her feet. “You're here! Perfect! We’re testing new prototypes for your webs on the rooftop.” She stated as she motioned for him to follow in her direction.

“Is Y/N here?” Peter asked as his face softened as he spoke.

“Oh no, sweetie, she went out with her friends hours ago. I thought she would have told you.” She explained. ”She’ll be back soon.”

Pepper too? Who else had to have forgotten about him?

“When we get outside, you won’t need your suit, although you probably have it with you.” Pepper explained as the clacking of her heels echoed throughout the hallway. “Just your old web shooters will do.”

All chances for normalcy, thrown straight out the window. Peter's first birthday without Tony was already one of despair.

A day like the one last year would have been perfect. Last year you snuck Peter from his over-the-top birthday party that Tony threw to have your birthday celebration. You both watched movies and ate mounds of sweets (non-edible and edible ;) until you both passed out in the middle of the night from the combination of sugar and sappy romance movies. He missed that sense of normalcy. Most of all, Peter missed spending those moments with you.

“That is essential, Peter. Do not forget.” Pepper urged as the clicking of her heels came to a complete stop. Peter then broke loose from his thoughts.

“Sure.”

“Peter, did you hear at least half of what I just said?”

Peter froze in his place, widening his eyes at her comment, “Yeah, you were talking about the new web upgrades.”

“No, I was talking about how we are holding another charity event for those affected by the blip this Sunday.” She mentioned as she then placed a concerned hand on his shoulder. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Just great.” He blankly stated before Pepper turned to the door behind her. Peter’s face tingled as the formation of tears welled in his eyes.

Pepper opened the door to the rooftop stairway, holding it out for Peter to follow behind her. She then led him up the short staircase before they entered the door leading to the roof. He didn’t see, but Pepper's face saddened as she heard the many sniffles coming from Peter as they made their way upstairs.

As they entered the balcony, there was an array of lights strung over around the roof, in addition to the many tables placed with streamers, balloons, and cool decorations placed along the rooftop.

“Surprise!” You and many others had yelled as they jumped from various hiding places on the roof.

“Happy Birthday!” Morgan shouted in your arms behind a table placed with various types of foods, thus causing many in the room to giggle. Around stood you, Morgan, many of Peter’s friends, May, and some of his fellow Avengers.

“What is all this?” Peter asked, wiping the tears from his face.

“You really thought we would forget your birthday?”You asked, placing Morgan down as you walked over to your boyfriend.

Peter laughed lightly, “Well yeah, for a second I did.”

“Never, I love you too much. We all do.” you smiled, kissing Peter's teary cheek. “Now, make a wish.”

May made her way over with a cake holding 17 brightly lit candles on a large light blue two-tiered cake. ‘Happy Birthday Peter’ was written in white frosting with white webs neatly placed along the sides of each layer. She and others around her began to sing loud and a slightly off-key rendition of ‘Happy Birthday', bringing a smile to Peter's face.

As the song ended, all eyes were on Peter as he glanced down at his candle-lit cake, brightening his ecstatic expression. “This may sound cheesy, but there’s nothing else I’d rather wish for than this.” he smiled. “You all are my wish. I wish that everything stays the same. At least for today.”

Peter blew out his candles, which then set off cheers and claps from others on the roof, May then walked off to cut his cake.

“I’m sorry I hid all this from you, Peter. You deserved something amazing for all that you’ve been through, and I wanted to give you just that.” You apologized, placing your hand gently in Peter’s.

“It’s fine. You made up for it with all of this.” He breathed, glancing around at his surroundings as he spoke. “Thank you. For everything.”

You pressed your lips delicately on Peters, kissing him softly as you moved your hand that wasn’t currently in his to the back of his head. Peter pressed further in your face, turning his head slightly as he melded into the softness of the kiss. Sparks seeped into his body, definitely much bigger than the ones that burned brightly on his birthday cake, making him feel on cloud nine.

You pulled away gently, then moving both of your hands on both of his cheeks to stroke them gently, “Anything for you, birthday boy.”

[heliads]

How to Move On

Based on this request: “A ghost!Luke Patterson x alive!reader but she is older. Like in the 90s they were but then he died and she got older. An angst story please :)”

masterlist

When he was alive, Luke Patterson lived five houses down from one of the cutest girls he’d ever seen. It still surprises him that he has to tack on that first part to describe anything that happened in his life before, like if he shuts his eyes hard enough he’ll find himself back in the 90s, when he had a pulse and a heartbeat and people could see him if he walked out onto the street.

However, an unseen blade cuts a little too deep whenever he thinks about his current situation, so Luke allows himself to fall deeper into the memory instead of returning back to reality. She’d lived five houses down, right? Or was it four? Luke has hardly been brought back as a ghost for a few weeks before he’s started losing his grasp on the details that bound his life. They’re all slipping through his fingertips, gone now in recollection as well as his ability to return to them in person.

Yes, five houses down- he’s certain of it now. Whenever he wanted to sneak out of his house to go visit her, Luke had to climb out of his window and weave through two backyards before he could risk returning to the sidewalk for another three houses. Five houses down, that’s right. Luke curses himself mentally, not wanting to forget another detail. He’s already lost the girl, he doesn’t want to lose the few figments of her in his memory. A ghost of her for the ghost he already is.

If he managed to sneak out of his house and make it down five houses, as he so often did, Luke could then toss small pebbles at one moonlit window. It usually only took two or three of these interactions before the window would be hurriedly unlatched, a beaming face peering out at him. Luke would allow himself a second of staring, admiring the way the moonlight cast the girl in a bone-white halo, then haul himself up into the room.

From the second his feet touched down on the bedroom floor, Luke would be in safe territory. He still took precautions, of course, keeping his voice down and his movements quiet. However, Y/N L/N always seemed to have a secret oasis in the form of her room, and he was never once caught. They both made sure of it, and if he and Y/N worked together, they could achieve any goal so long as it was worth it.

Y/N L/N. She was the one he’d left behind, one of the aches that hurt the most. He’d been lucky enough to win her love, either through some complete misunderstanding or maybe the fact that he’d finally done something right in his life, but he had her nonetheless. Or, he’d had her until the day he’d died, leaving behind nothing in his wake but grieving parents and the girl he’d sworn to stay with for the rest of his life. Well, his promise had come true in one sense, although Luke can’t help but wish there was another way around it.

To be completely honest, even as Luke dreads forgetting any detail of his past girl, he might fear thinking about her even more. It’s not that he wants to lose the picture of her smile in his head, or the way she’d reach for him when she was cold, it’s just that to think of her in any sense is like a knife stabbing him through the ribs, reminding him that he’ll never get her back. If he tries to push her from his mind, he won’t remember the way she’ll never be with him again. Isn’t that better?

Luke already knows the answer: no, not at all. Even this one slip in his memory, the faltering knowledge of how far apart their houses were, sends a jolt of worry spiking through him. Luke wouldn’t consider himself forgetful, maybe just a little absentminded, but the fact that he’s already starting to forget his past life worries him. However, to keep Y/N’s picture cherished in his mind means reminding himself of everything that he’d lost, of finally confronting all the memories he’s been holding back for so long.

Eventually, Luke finds himself in the studio, searching through the boxes and crates of stuff that had eventually made its way into dusty corners and spiderwebbed cracks of the room. Julie’s mom had been kind enough to keep at least some of Sunset Curve’s possessions, and so Luke ransacks these sparse belongings now. At last, his hand emerges triumphant, carrying with it an old photo album. It’s thin, spine scarcely thicker than a small paperback, but for the way he looks at it its pages could be lined with gold.

Luke pauses a second, steeling himself before flipping open the front cover. Instantly, he’s hit with a wave of memories. These first few photos had been taken a year or so before he died, when he had first started dating Y/N and everything seemed like he was living a dream. There are Polaroids from their first few dates, snapshots of festivals and boardwalks and everything a couple of teenagers could afford when they were young and stupidly in love.

Luke studies these, then the next couple of pages, and then the next. He must have been more distracted than he’d first thought, because he doesn’t notice Julie Molina enter the studio until she’s practically standing on top of him. Julie clears his throat, and he startles, doing his best to quickly close the album. For some reason, it doesn’t feel quite right to so openly share his memories of Y/N to anyone within eyesight.

“Sorry, didn’t see you there. Are we practicing?” Luke asks. Julie laughs, her smile a tad incredulous. “Not yet, but I’m a little worried as to why you were so quick to hide that book. What, are you trying to keep secrets from me?” Her eyes assure him that this question is purely an excuse to tease him, but Luke can’t find it within himself to smile back. Instead, he sits back down on the floor of the studio, gesturing listlessly to the empty space next to him.

“Not entirely. It’s just- well, I found this old photo album, and it’s kind of hard to not regret leaving everything behind. The current day is good, don’t get me wrong, and I love the band, but-” Julie picks up on his train of thought even as Luke’s voice trails off. “It’s not what you’re used to, and you feel bad about everything you could have had. I get it. I’m surprised you’ve adjusted so well, to be honest. It can’t be easy to leave your entire life behind.”

Luke lets out a quiet sigh. “Exactly.” After a moment’s consideration, he picks up the photo album again, opening the cover and passing it to Julie. She accepts it, glancing at him one last time to make sure he’s alright with baring his soul to her. A soft smile traces its way onto her face as she sees the photos of him and Y/N, grins so bright they could practically light up the world. “Who is this?”

Her finger lingers over a photo Luke had taken of Y/N. She had been wearing a Sunset Curve shirt, one of their first attempts at a logo. They’d long since changed the design, but she had said something about how her boys were so official and taken the first draft t-shirt nonetheless. Y/N had worn it to many shows since then, until the design faded into nothingness and she’d been forced to get a new one. Luke’s voice softens. “That’s Y/N. She is- she was my girlfriend. Back in the 90s, at least.”

Luke hates the way he has to say that, like she’s died instead of him. She was his girlfriend, they had known each other, they are each utterly different now and there is no getting back what they’d once had. Julie glances over at him, sympathy radiating from her gaze, but then she turns back to the photo, frowning over it in something that almost looks like recognition. “Wait, you said her name was Y/N? Like Y/N L/N?”

Luke sits bolt upright, melancholy thoughts completely forgotten. “Yes! How did you know that? Do you know her?” Julie’s excitement starts to bleed away from her, as if she knows something that ruins the dream she had been so thrilled to share. “Well, yes, but she’s not Y/N L/N anymore. She has a different last name now.” Luke picks up on what Julie is unwilling to say, and his stomach sinks a little. She has a different last name because she’s married, because she’s moved on.

Even as he thinks this, Luke feels annoyed at himself. Of course she’s moved on- he died 25 years ago. There’s no reason she would never love again, and even if she did, Luke would never want that for her. She was so bright, so happy, that the thought of herself locked away in mournful grief like his parents seems so utterly wrong that if that happened she might as well have died with him. Still, Luke doesn’t like thinking that there’s someone else out there receiving her smiles, hearing her hopes and dreams late at night the way he had once listened to her.

Luke must have gone silent for too long, because Julie is looking over at him again, pity written in every line of her face. She thinks for a second longer, then stands up, holding out her hand to him. “She still lives near here, actually. A few streets down. Do you want to go see her?” Luke stares at her, then rushes to his feet. “You mean it? You know where she is?” Julie nods. “Only if you’re willing to see her.” She’s right to worry- seeing Y/N again will mean finally coming to terms with everything Luke had left behind when he’d died, a final piece of proof that Y/N will never be his again. Still, if he hides away from her again, Luke will spend the rest of his ghosthood wondering what she might have been like and who she may have become. So, he nods, and allows Julie to lead him from the studio and down the blocks to Y/N’s house.

Even without Julie’s directions, Luke would know their destination even before she points out Y/N’s front door. He sees her in every corner of the building, every flower and tree planted in the yard. She’d always wanted a brightly painted front door, tall trees in the backyard so she could have a little shade on the summer days. They’d once planned what their future houses would look like, always choosing one for the two of them. If Luke sees traces of his ideas in her house now, does that mean Y/N still thinks of him? Or that she’s already forgotten that it was his voice suggesting those changes and not her own, that he’s already faded into the last few corners of her memory?

His feet stall in the driveway, but at an encouraging look from Julie, Luke forces himself to walk up the final few feet to stop in front of the front door. He reaches forward and rings the doorbell himself, although he can do no more once the door swings open. This will be Julie’s part- Luke can do no more than watch the woman in front of him with wide eyes.

She still looks like her. Is that a strange thing to say? She’s taller now, her face more lined and weary as if she’s had a lifetime of problems to deal with ever since Luke left her days. It makes sense that she looks older- the last time Luke saw her was 25 years ago, so she’s probably in her forties now. Still, there are traces of the girl he’d known in every movement, every step. When she looks questioningly at Julie, Luke can see the way she’d looked at him to ask when and where Sunset Curve would be performing so she could make sure to arrive on time. The gesture is so truthfully her that it practically hurts to see.

Julie’s eyes dart to Luke, as if trying to gauge his reaction, then she focuses her gaze firmly on Y/N. “I, uh, was cleaning out my mom’s old studio. I found something from the band who used to practice there- they went by the name of Sunset Curve? Your name was on one of the photos.” It’s a duplicate photo strip from a photo booth on a long-since demolished boardwalk, an excuse for the visit. Still, it’s enough to make Y/N’s eyes widen, and she looks at Julie as if she’s punched a hole right through her chest.

She gestures for Julie to follow her inside. Luke drifts in after them, staring at the photos lining the walls, the backpacks flung in a corner of the room. So she has children, a family. How long had it taken her to move on from him? She smiles in every family portrait he sees, but did she ever think about the boy she’d left behind? Would it matter that much to him if she did?

Julie hands Y/N the photo strip now, and tears glisten in the woman’s eyes as she looks at herself and Luke, decades younger and what feels like centuries happier. Julie, thank everything, is unwilling to let Y/N leave without asking her about the boy she’d left behind. “Did you know him well? The boy in the photos?” Y/N glances up sharply at Julie, startling as if she’d forgotten there was a girl in front of her, too drowned in the memories of the past to remember reality. It’s a familiar feeling to Luke, and it stings to see it on this older Y/N too.

“Yes, I did. Very well, in fact. I loved him with all of my heart until he died along with his bandmates.” She laughs quietly, the sound broken through with utter misery. It twists Luke’s heart like a blade. “I almost didn’t make it through the funeral. I was sitting next to his parents, and we were sobbing like we’d never smile again. He was everything to me, and I had no idea what to do when he was gone. I wish you could have met him- he was always so quick to a smile or a laugh. I never told him how much I liked his smile. I wish I had.”

Luke stumbles as if he’s been punched. Tears are pricking at his eyes, and he swipes at them angrily with his shirt sleeve. Why should he have to cry now, mourn everything he’d lost? Hasn’t he been through enough? Y/N swallows harshly. “It’s easy to get lost in the past. I graduated high school without him, went to college without him. I didn’t think I’d ever have to live a day without him, and suddenly I had an entire future completely empty of anyone like him. There are days when I almost think I see him in a crowd, and days when it gets easier. In the end, I think he’d want me to move forward, even as hard as that may be.”

Julie glances over at Luke once more, scarcely a second away from tears herself. “Yeah, I think he’d want you to be happy. That above all else.” Y/N sighs, the sound cutting through Luke and almost sending him to the floor. “Thank you for the photos, Julie. You take care of yourself.” Julie smiles. “I will. Thank you too.” Luke, sensing the imminent goodbye, takes one last furtive glance around the house. What if he had been there, present in every family photo and every line in her journals? He wishes nothing more than to have that option, to be able to go back, but he can’t.

So, he allows himself to follow Julie back out into the sunshine of the afternoon, and when the door closes softly behind him, he doesn’t look back. Julie is silent on the walk back, as is he. Luke heads for the studio, and he stops before the photo album before glancing up at the walls around him. If he tries hard enough, Luke thinks he can see her in every corner of the studio. There she is on the couch, laughing as she pretends to smack him with a pillow. There she is next to him on the piano, listening to his latest song. There are hundreds of her in the studio, hundreds of memories. That’s all he has left of her. Just memories and nothing more.

Julie returns to find him later, and it doesn’t take long for her eyes to cut across the room, landing on the photo newly pinned to the wall. There are two figures in it, a boy and a girl grinning madly as they reach for each other in a dusky night. Both of them are long gone now, dead and aged even as their photo-selves smile on. If Luke looks back at the photo now, keeping that image burned into his mind, he never speaks of it again.

requested by @charliegillespiewife​

jatp tag list: someone who i would not leave behind if i died in the 90s @underc0vercryptid​

[smoochkooks]

—lost stars, part 2 (m.)

⟶ pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

⟶ genre: smut, angst, bits of fluff, (troubled) idol au, childhood friends to lovers

⟶ word count: 20k

⟶ summary: in dead hours of the night he stumbles upon the bars, reaching, searching, trying to feel something, for once forget about consequences and taste the bittersweet freedom. between sips of addiction and faint touches of nameless lovers he finds you again: his own long-lost star on a blackboard sky.

⟶ warnings: explicit sexual content, soft dom!jk but also bit possessive!jk, sub!reader, oral (f receiving), praise kink, jk calling oc his pretty girl, unprotected sex (stay safe kiddos!), creampie, implicit car sex, mentions of infidelity, smoking, both oc and jk are emotional mess sometimes.

✔ read part one here!

a/n: i’m sorry i keep you waiting for so long but it’s finally here. as i promised, by the end of october. this story has a really special place in my heart, i’ve had it in my drafts for over a year now. i hope you’ll enjoy it!

Twenty-two. No, twenty-three. Or maybe it was actually twenty-two? Jungkook starts counting again.  

Various, different certificates are aligned on the wall in front of him, every single one dedicated to the same man, sitting across the table with crossed arms and stern expression. It’s rather obvious his ego reaches far beyond the printed sheets of paper with his name written in swirly fonts. They are here just to make an impression, to fool people into believing that the pastel blue shirt he’s wearing and expensive watch on his wrist are the outcome of his hard work.  

He opens his mouth to say something, but it doesn’t reach Jungkook’s ears. He starts counting again; this time the number of letters on the first certificate.

“What do you suggest we should do then?”

The man whose achievements in marketing and public relations Jungkook currently attentively analyzes, is Lee Ilsug, or at least that’s what those diplomas indicate. To be honest, Jungkook couldn’t care less about his name or the list of accomplishments that made him be employed here.

He’s new in the company, that’s certain. Jungkook didn’t have to deal with him before but Yoongi had the unpleasantness though, when he needed to deny the rumours going all around the Twitter about his slightly too close friendship with a female singer he had collaborated with.  

Quoting Yoongi, Ilsung was pain in the ass. 

“The photo is blurry. It’s debatable whether it’s Jungkook-ssi or not.” Another voice, this time female, cuts in. Jungkook remembers her face fleetingly from some PR meeting he had attended before. It looks like she’s now Ilsung’s assistant. “I checked SNS. Fans are on Jungkook’s side, they don’t believe what that girl had written, which is a good situation for us to interfere and release a statement.”

“What do you think, Jungkook?”

It’s Sejin. He was the one who contacted Jungkook about the ruckus in the company that has been going on since morning. The case is simple: on the day he did his walk of shame out of your apartment, he stopped to light up a cigarette that happened to be another one of his cardinal mistakes he’s made in span of 24 hours. What started with getting the temptation and alcohol got better of him and sleeping with you, ended with someone taking a picture of him while smoking.

It’s truly a miracle the photo’s quality is moderately vague. His mom always tells him he was born under the lucky star but for Jungkook it’s more like fate was playing hide and seek with him. This time, he managed to blend into the shadows in time.

Ilsung clicks his tongue. It’s not a secret he hates his job yet cherishes the money he earns. He pushes his thick-rimmed glasses up his nose and leans over the table. He’s close enough for Jungkook to notice the fresh cut from shaving on his cheek and a small, golden cross hanging on his neck. 

He raises his brow, eyes trained on Jungkook. Cold, emotionless. Clearly, his ambitions don’t end on dealing with some idol’s reckless shenanigans. “Well? What’s on your mind, Jungkook-ssi? We are ready to release the statement denying rumours about the incident in an hour.”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek. “But that will be a lie then. I did smoke, it’s me on that picture.”

Next to him, he hears Sejin clearing his throat uncomfortably. “Jungkook, I know it’s unfair but we can’t let it affect yours or boys’ reputations right now. We are a month before the comeback.” he says and no matter how much he tries to make it sound neutral, pulling the ‘what about the rest of the members?’ card is usually the last straw to bend Jungkook.

Jungkook releases a long sigh at that. He feels unworthy. He let down his brothers again, made them worry about him countless times before and that’s what he offeres in return: disappointment. He cannot risk his bandmates’ good name because of his incautious behavior. They sacrificed too much to be where they are now to lose it over a silly scandal.  

“Do what’s best for the team.” he decides after a while.

Once he’s out of the office, his thoughts drift instinctively to you. Do you already know about the mess he created? Do you even search through social media, looking for the updates about him? No, you wouldn’t go there, he tells himself. He’s almost sure. He hopes those revelations won’t ever reach you.

Sejin breaks his chain of thoughts, stepping into the elevator after him. “What were you even doing in that part of the city so early?” he asks, staring at Jungkook’s reflection in the mirror.

“Does it really matter?”

Sejin’s features soften a little. He’s been with them practically since the beginning. Seen their best and worst, always by their side even when the whole world seemed to be against them. Piggybacking Jungkook out of the practice room because he complained about his feet being sore, joking behind the stage about trivial things when no cameras where around. They trusted him. And he’s never stopped believing in them.

“I told you that million times before. You are allowed to lead your life the way you want, Jungkook. I know how you feel, but as a public figure you have to be extremely careful, first and foremost. People don’t forget, nothing ever disappears from the Internet,” he says, or rather repeats the same mantra he’s been telling them since they broke into the mainstream and started being overly recognizable. “I am here to protect you but I won’t be able to do that if you don’t take care of yourself first.”

He places a strong hold on Jungkook’s shoulder and squeezes reassuringly. Jungkook releases a sigh and the door slides open behind them. “Thank you, hyung.”

“Always, Jungkook-ah. I’m feeling like a father of rebel teenager now.” Sejin laughs lightly to clear the heavy atmosphere, making Jungkook snort.  

“Hey, I’m twenty-two!”

Sejin ruffles Jungkook’s hair, ignoring younger’s grumbling protests. The walk into the spacious parking lot of the company and Jungkook suddenly stops in his tracks.  

“Does Bang already know about this?“ he asks matter-of-factly, although he’s sure what the answer will be. The confirmation he needs comes with a nod from Sejin. “Is he pissed?” he adds then.

Sejin raises his brows, looking down at him. “His golden boy let him down, what do you think? He might not be mad but he’s sure as hell disappointed.” He gestures to his car and Jungkook follows him without a word, imagining his boss’ sour expression next time he sees him. In Bang’s self-made ranking he’s sitting at last place right now probably.  

“Want to grab a proper breakfast with me? I’ve been called into the company while I was in bed. I didn’t even have time to finish my coffee.” Sejin offers, pulling Jungkook out of his thoughts.

“Okay.” Jungkook says, hopping in Sejin’s car. “You’re buying?” he asks, mustering a snickering smile even though he’s definitely not in the mood for joking.

Sejin rolls his eyes, fastening his seatbelt. “Don’t you think you own it to me for saving your ass once again?”

“But I’m your rebel teenager kid, remember?” Jungkook pouts. When he sees Sejin hesitating, he opts for another strategy. The one that never fails. “Rock-paper-scissors?”

“Deal.” 

Tonight, Jungkook pulls up in front of the club you’re working in with his car. It’s Friday night and he recalls you saying you work here every two weeks. He counted the days three times. There’s no way he made a mistake. He’s sober. And he has no intentions of getting drunk.  

You’re surprised when you see him. You haven’t spoken a word for a whole week since he walked out of your apartment. He seems happier when he approaches you, flashing a bunny-toothed smile like nothing ever happened. Maybe he’s good at pretending. That’s exactly what you told him to do - act like the night he stripped you bare and fucked you silly was merely a mirage.

In a way, you’re relieved he makes everything seem ordinary, even though it’s anything but normal.

He waits for you to finish your shift. Tells you he drove here with his car and your eyes involuntarily widen. When you’re standing in front of his black Mercedes Benz, you can’t help but gawk.  

“I don’t even want to know how much money this cost.” You take in the all-polished, black glory of his car, muttering “Holy shit” under your breath.

Jungkook chuckles to himself, gesturing for you to get in. You do it without a word, making yourself comfortable on the leather seat. If he manages not to make things awkward, you can do it to, acting as though he isn’t a well-known persona in your country with an addiction for unhealthy lifestyle.

He starts the engine and drives in the direction of your neighborhood, humming to himself the tune playing in radio. It’s awfully domestic, the way he navigates through the streets like he knows them like the back of his hand although you’re aware he’s glancing at his phone once in a while to check the directions. You catch yourself watching him from the corner of your eye with curiosity, biting your lip to suppress the urge to ask him million questions at a minute. Instead, you let him do whatever he has in mind. You can’t ruin this, you remind yourself.

Later that night, you’re sitting in his car in the darkness, parked on the rundown parking lot where no one’s standing expect for you. The only source of light is coming from the single street lamp nearby, illuminating delicately Jungkook’s features in dim, yellowish lighting.  

He doesn’t say much. He fumbles with the hem of his jacket almost absentmindedly and you know him well enough to sense there’s something plugging his thoughts. You call his name and he turns his head to the side. It’s too dark for you to spot the tiredness on his beautiful face, too dark to read from his eyes and find all the needed answers in them.

“Is everything alright?” you ask and it sounds awfully loud in a small space of his car. Despite the silent promise you made to yourself about keeping things between you civil, you can’t help but interfere.

Jungkook then whirls on his seat so he can face you fully, flashing you a smile meant to throw all your former worries away. “Yeah, I’m fine. I just wanted to sit with you for a while like that, if you don’t mind.”  

If anything, it doesn’t cure your concerns but you shove it to the back of your head for now. Nodding at his words, you fall into the distressing silence. The street lamp nearby goes out and if it wasn’t for the digital dashboard in Jungkook’s car, you would have been surrounded by darkness completely.  

Jungkook chuckles under his breath and you follow suit. The sudden change in the atmosphere should be taken as a sign to abandon this damned parking lot and go somewhere else, but he looks like he has other plans in mind. Hearing the soft whisper of your name, you start feeling like it all was meant to happen. Him appearing in front of the club, the lights going out and enabling you to read the true emotions from your faces – it’s all like fate is again playing tricks with you.  

You don’t know who moves first, crossing the invisible oceans between you and reaching homeland, but the next thing you feel is his lips on yours.

He tastes like the non-alcoholic beverage he drunk earlier, mixed with faint bitterness of his beloved cigarettes and something akin to mint, yet you’re drowning in it, in him, in the warmth of his breath on your wet lips.

You feel the world spiraling in front of your eyes, despite your soberity. You’re moving automatically; leaning into his touch and accepting the kiss with raw passion, welcoming his tongue in your mouth willingly. It should be alarming how good it feels to have him like this, in your arms, teeth scrapping your neck until you’re writhing in your seat. Breathless, he takes the hint, maneuvering your body until you’re straddling his lap.  

It feels dangerously familiar. You know what’s going to happen next, when he unzips your jacket and places his hands underneath your sweater, relishing in the way you shiver at the coldness of his touch. When he sinks his teeth in your neck and withdraws seconds before leaving a blossoming mark. Yet you make no vow to stop him.  

From this exact moment, it’s just a blur of hushed whispers, broken moans and quick caresses that leave you yearning for more. Jungkook acts like he knows your body inside and out, thrusting his fingers knuckle-deep into your heat until you’re keening and begging him for more. And he gives it to you with earnest, coaxing you into an orgasm with one last, final flick of his thumb on your sensitive bud.

Jungkook groans when you palm his bulge through the material of his pants, but he’s too desperate to feel your wetness around him to let you tease him any longer. When you sink down onto him, all of your rational thoughts fly away with the breathy moan you let out in unison with his choked gasp.

It’s fast and ragged, chasing the high that it’s both forbidden yet so craved. And it hurts, when tears well in your eyes, when you’re at the brick of pleasure and you know there’s no way in the world you’re going to experience a desire so raw and overwhelming with anyone, ever again. It hurts when Jungkook picks up the pace and fucks into you with ferocity and anger, because the world is unfair and he’s a slave in the system in which freedom means fucking you dirty in his car when it’s dark out.

And he hates it, hates it so much when you unveil in front of him, whimpering his name hoarsely and tightening around his cock deliciously. He swallows every sound you make with his mouth, clenching his teeth because the pleasure is right there, but he needs an extra push to throw himself over the edge. It’s his name on your lips and the whimper of “Inside, please” that finally makes him snap.

Then, there’s only guilt and laboured breaths. In his self-made list of mistakes, you’re aiming for the top.

Grocery shopping has never been your favourite thing to do.

You would never quite enjoy doing it, not due to the constant anxiety of forgetting about buying something even if you make a list of products beforehand, not when you don’t have enough money to buy a little extra than needed (thanks to the dear capitalistic world we live in).  

Right now, you’re standing in the middle of an aisle with cereal, trying to look as much casual as possible so people passing by wouldn’t suspect you to be a wanna-be thief. The cause of your distress sits at the very top shelf and there’s no way in hell you’ll manage to snatch that Reese’s Puffs without knocking everything over.  

Defeated, you raise your hand to take your second option (good, old Corn Flakes), but a familiar voice coming from the right stops you in tracks.

“Need some help?”  

Twirling on your feet, you’re now standing face to face with Kihyun – Minho’s friend from work. Smiling sheepishly, you nod. “I do, actually. Can you pass me these ones, please?”  

You feel stupid asking that but fortunately, Kihyun doesn’t seem to mind your awkwardness. You talked to him briefly a few times before thanks to Minho, who took his friendship with him as far as to go on a double date together.  

“So, how are you?” Kihyun asks, placing the cereal box in your cart.

“I’m good, thanks. I assume you’ve been also doing well,” He raises his eyebrows at that and you clarify, “Minho told me you got promoted lately. Congrats, chief Yoo.”

“Ah, yeah, thank you,” There’s a tiny bit of pink covering the apples of his cheeks when he waves his hand dismissively at your comment. “But it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’m sure working in a homicide department is a big deal,” you say. “And I heard it requires some extra shooting training as well.” you add, alluding to what Minho has told you the day you read the message on his phone from someone named Soyeon.

To your surprise, Kihyun furrows his brows in a manner that could only mean he’s confused. “I don’t know what you mean by that.”  

Hiding your astonishment with a light laugh, you explain, “Don’t you go to the shooting range with Minho after work? He told me so a while ago.”  

Something akin to realization crosses Kihyun’s face. He shakes his head. “Yeah, we went there together once or twice but recently he’s training there our new recruit, Soyeon.”  

His words punch you right in the guts. Minho lied to you. He wouldn’t come up with that shitty excuse if he didn’t have something dirtier to hide, right? Maybe you’re exaggerating, but he certainly hasn’t been truly honest with you for a while now. It must be a reason behind his strange behavior.

“Are you okay?”  

For a moment you’ve forgotten you’re in the middle of the grocery store with your boyfriend’s friend. Shaking yourself off your unpleasant thoughts, you send Kihyun an apologetic smile.  

“I’m sorry. I just remembered I need to go to the pharmacist’s and they’re closing soon so I gotta hurry now.” you lie. He doesn’t look like he entirely bought your story but nevertheless, he bids you goodbye.  

You leave the store with half-empty shopping bag, raging headache and a torn heart.

They say silence can speak more than any exchanged words.  

It hovers in the air, heavy and overwhelming, a tension primed to snap at any moment yet it has never happened before. There’s always quiet, no hushed sentences, half-lies or stuttered confessions leaving quivering lips.  

Sometimes you wonder when will you have enough. When will you be able to resist, to say you’re hurting so bad it aches right in your heart, like there are tons of bricks lying on your chest, suppressing your breathing. And maybe this is the night.  

A few unread messages on your phone, next one popping up and the screen lights up. 

[1:23pm] jungkook:

i need you  

It pains, a dull ache and suddenly there isn’t enough air in the room.   [1:24pm] jungkook:

please  

He never begs. It doesn’t suit him. There is too much pride and power inside him to crawl in front of you, to fall to his knees and plead. Yet, you falter, shaking fingertips typing a quick response. When brain screams fuck you, you don’t deserve me, a sight of him makes all the rational thoughts go to hell.  

He stands in your door, slender body leaning against the frame. You haven’t seen him for a while, a week or maybe two. His skin is pale, sheer and delicate you worry it might break if you trail your fingers over it. There are bangs under his bloodshot eyes and you know he had trouble sleeping again. It hurts seeing him like this, beautiful and broken but you’ve always loved picking up the damaged pieces.

He smiles, a lopsided smirk you know oh so well, a dark amusement because here you are, pliant under his gaze, vulnerable under his every command.  

“Hello, doll.”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you grimace. Nickname he uses only when you’re stripped bare for his liking, bend to his will. It means he’s been drinking. Probably the expensive whiskey you hate the taste of so much when it lingers bitterly on your tongue after each swipe of his mouth against yours. “Will you let me in?” he then asks although he already knows the answer.

It’s cruel of him how he uses your weakness. You hate seeing him like this, hate when he’s thrown apart and you’re the only one who knows how to fix him. That’s why you move away from the door in a silent invitation, biting your lip when you see his slouching posture and unsteady walk.  

It hurts when you help him sit on your bed and he smiles at you lazily, in all his beautiful yet broken glory. You almost don’t recognize him. It’s not your Jungkook. Your Jungkook would never drown his misery in alcohol, he would never sit in your room barely conscious, smelling of cheap bars and cigarettes.  

But you accept your fate the way it is.  

“I need to sober you up a little. I’ll go get you a glass of water, okay?” He hums in response, although you’re worried it might have not reach his ears at all.  

Jungkook looks up when your back, accepting the water and drinking it with eagerness. “You’re too good to me, you know that right?” he slurs a little once he’s done. “I don’t deserve you.” he adds after a moment, cupping your cheek with his unoccupied palm.  

You squeeze your eyes shut because you fear you might break down in front of him if you look him in the eyes. He strokes your skin, murming “I’m so sorry” all over again.  

You stay like that for a few beats of silence, breathing in each other’s presences until you hear Jungkook’s phone buzzing in the pocket of his jacket. Taking it out, you see ‘Jimin-hyung’ written on the screen. “Your friends are worried about you.” you murmur, nudging his side.

“Tell them to go to hell.” You hear him muttering under his breath. Sighing, you decide to exit the room and answer the call.  

“Jungkook? Where the fuck are you?!” Jimin’s angered, thick with Busan dialect voice rings in your ears, making you flinch. “You should’ve at least answer my text once so I would know you’re okay!”  

Mustering the courage, you take a deep breath and say, “Hi, it’s Y/N speaking. Jungkook’s friend.”  

There’s a pause on the other side, until your hear Jimin clearing his throat. “Oh, hi. Is Jungkook maybe with you?” he asks and you smile to yourself involuntarily noticing how his voice has changed once he realised he’s not speaking to his friend.  

“He is. Drunk, but in one piece.” you reply, sparing a glance at aforementioned Jungkook who’s now slumped down on your bed, probably fast asleep.

Jimin sighs with relief. “That’s good then. You know, we got into a little fight today and he suddenly disappeared without a trace, and we are right before the comeback so–”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to explain anything to me,” you interrupt his rushed rambling. “I’ll take care of him.”  

“Thank you, Y/N-ssi. It means a lot.”  

‘’I’ve been taking care of his ass practically since we were kids, so it’s not a big deal for me,” you chuckle lightly, even though you’re definetely not in the mood for jokes. “Well, maybe not in that way but still.”  

“I know. He told me about you.”  

Your eyes widen. “He did?” you ask, failing to hide the surprised tone of your voice.  

“Yeah, he did. When he first told us he met his childhood friend accidentally in the club he got drunk in, we didn’t believe him at first. But then he slowly started opening up more about you and even showed me some picture of you and him when you were kids.” Jimin says. “You know, Jungkook hasn’t been himself for quite a while. He kept pushing us away but ever since he met you, he’s started smiling again. Please, promise me you’ll never hurt him.”  

You release a shaky breath. “I promise.”  

It’s easy to promise such thing. Because you’re for sure going to end up being hurt first.

It’s your alarm that wakes you up the next morning.

The sight of Jungkook is long gone, the only proof he’s been here in your bed last night is an empty glass on your bedside table and a small note written on the napkin.  

Thank you for everything. I really don’t deserve you.  

Jungkook.

Sheets have gone already cold underneath your fingertips where he laid beside you just hours ago. You didn’t get much sleep the night, watching his beautiful, pale features illuminated by the moonlight slipping through your window. He looked so peaceful with his chapped lips slightly parted and in that moment, you couldn’t think of any reason to hate him and what he’s doing to you.

Later, when you’re finally out of uni, you come home and take a quick shower. It’s Wednesday and Wednesdays are reserved for your small dates with Minho. The guilt you’re feeling while getting dressed and fixing your makeup is eating you from the inside. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you almost don’t recognize the shallow of a girl you’re seeing.  

You are not a bad person, you keep reminding yourself, then why did you sleep with him that night? Let him crawl into your bed again and again after?

Minho waits for you outside in his car. He’s taking you to a new Thai restaurant and you manage to hide the frown on your face, because your dear boyfriend forgot you don’t like this type of food.  

“You look pretty tonight, babe,” he says once you’re inside, waiting for your orders. You smile at him briefly. “It’s really been a while since we went out together, hasn’t it?”  

At that, you nod curtly. It’s true, you haven’t seen each other last week at all. Minho ditched your usual Wednesday date in favor of staying at work for something important. It happened second or third time this month. You feel like you don’t have right to be mad at him. If anything, that’s what you deserve for lying to him behind his back.

The rest of the evening goes smoothly. Your food arrives, you act like you don’t feel nauseous chewing on your pad thai and trying to break out the taste with red wine. Minho babbles about the new Netflix series he’s started watching and you’re pretending to be intrested. Wednesday date at its finest.

Then, when you’re about to pour yourself another glass of wine, Minho stops you with his hand on yours. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about something,”  You fight an urge to roll your eyes. He wants to discuss serious matters? What a change. “We’ve been together for eight months. My parents keep asking about you.”  

“Oh,” you blurt out. To hide your anxiety, you force out a breathy laugh. “So, what about them?” you ask, however you already know what the answer is going to be.  

“I thought we could visit them soon in Daegu over some weekend when you don’t have work,” he proposes, squeezing your hand as if to calm your nerves. It’s not doing much to put you at ease. “My mom has already started making plans what food she should make. They’re really excited to meet you.”  

You feign a smile. It should be a natural progression for couples to take things at a time, step by step but you can’t help but feel uneasy. Minho wants his parents to meet you, the girl who lets a certain raven-haired boy play with her heart and mess with her head. In a sick game where both parties are out of reach, you’re terribly losing.

“I’d love to meet your parents.” you say finally, almost breathless.  

“You don’t look very excited.” Minho comments with a smirk and you know he’s joking but the lump in your throat only grows.  

You smile meekly. “I’m just nervous, that’s all. What if they won’t like me?”  

“I’m sure they’re gonna love you. You don’t have anything to worry about.” he dismisses your concerns, reaching for the wine bottle to pour himself a glass. “I’ve got one more thing to tell you. I know it’s a lot for one evening but I’ve been meaning to talk to you about it for weeks now so since we have this opportunity now, I’m gonna use it.”  

Color drains from your face. What else is there to converse about all of a sudden? Biting the inside of your cheek, you give him a sign to continue.

“I’ll go straight to the point. I want you to move in with me,” The bomb explodes and you nearly drop your wine glass to the floor. “I know it might be a lot for your but I really, really want to see you every day in my bed. My apartment is big enough for both of us but once I get the promotion my boss talked to me about last week, we can look for something fancier.”  

You stare at him blankly. First his parents, now this? Minho from the beginning of your relationship was the one who liked to take things slowly. He didn’t kiss you until your third date, he waited unnecessary amount of time to have sex even though you told him over and over again you were more than ready to do it with him.

The sudden rush feels weird. As if sensing your discomfort, Minho clears his throat and asks, “Don’t you want to move in with me?”  

You notice the subtle change in his voice, the way he’s not as enthusiastic as he was a minute ago but you shove it to the back of your head. “I’m surprised,” you respond neutraly. “And of course I don’t mind living with you. I just thought you wanted to take things slow.”  

Minho clicks his tongue. “This has nothing to do with that. I’m not asking you to marry me, Y/N,” he chuckles but you don’t mirror the sentiment. “I think it would be more comfortable for you to live with me than your current cubby-hole.”  

He’s already irritated by your reaction and you know it’s better not to poke the bear but those three glasses of wine down your throat give you enough courage to disagree. “Your place is further from my university and work. Not to mention I have a five minutes long walk to the underground now and it would take longer for me to get there in your area.” you point out.

“You can get a driving license then finally.”  

You frown. “What do you mean ‘finally’? You know damn well I can’t afford it now with the job I have and student loan. We talked about it before.”  

Minho is aware that with your current financial situation you’re barely making ends meet and you can’t let yourself have another, bigger expenses. But you’re fine on your own, you don’t mind living where you do because that’s the result of your independence. You showed your parents you are able to study and work without their extra help. You’re proud of yourself for that.

“Now you’re literally making excuses. Just say you don’t want to move in.”  

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you try to reason. “I’m not ready for such a big step yet. I need more time to think about it.”  

Minho snorts, rolling his eyes. “What else is there to think about? Either you say yes or no!” His raised tone catches attention from the family sitting nearby and they send curious glances in your direction.

“Stop being so loud, please. We are in a restaurant for God’s sake.” you whisper-shout.  

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” he snorts, obnoxious and annoyingly snarky.

You stay quiet for a moment, debating whether you should give up entirely and hang a white flag or wait for the atmosphere to clear on its own. But you’re so, so tired. Tired of being lied to. Tired of always having to choose your words carefully and bending to his will.  

“You know, I met Kihyun the other day at grocery store,” Minho doesn’t seem much interested in your inquiry, still deeply frustrated with your tantrum. He simply hums, unfazed. “I congratulated him on his promotion. He for sure needs to visist shooting range more now, doesn’t he?”  

Minho arches his brow. “Yeah, I told you he goes there with me and that new recruit.”  

It’s ironic, how easily he can lie to you straight in the eye. But you’re strong enough now to fight back.  “That’s interesting actually, because Kihyun said something totally different.” you say languidly, watching your boyfriend narrowing his eyes.

“And what is that?”  

“He said you’re going there only with your new recruit, Soyeon. The one sending you messages on your private phone.”  

Minho gapes at you for a few short seconds and then, bursts into laughter. “What are you trying to insinuate here, honey?” he asks.  

The petname sounds mocking this time. Ignoring his lighthearted approach to the situation, you dodge a bullet. “I’m not insinuating anything yet. I just pointed out that you lied to me.”  

“Lied? That’s bullishit. I would never lie to you.”  

“But you did, Minho. The day I asked you who Soyeon was after reading the message on your phone. You said you’re visiting shooting range with her and Kihyun after work sometimes. Turns out it’s just you and her after all. Isn’t that a lie?” you press.  

Minho doesn’t like being backed into the corner. When you confronted him first, he thought he had everything under control. Now, he’s losing it and he isn’t used to being that helpless.

“So what? Maybe I told you that so you wouldn’t freak out and think I’m cheating on you. Because that’s all it is about, right? You think I’m fucking someone behind your back.” he snaps, making you wince.  

“I didn’t say that.” you counter but there’s no use for that. You stepped into the lion’s den.  

He aprubtly stands up from his chair and the cutlery on your table clutters. “You know what? I’m done. I’m not in the mood for your bullshit anymore.” He withdraws his wallet from the pocket of his jacket and throws a few bills onto the table.  

A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. “Your’e leaving? Just like that?”  

“Yeah. Are you going with me or not?”  

You shrug your shoulders. “I guess someone has to finish this bottle. It would be a shame to waste such expensive wine.” you say, mustering a sarcastic smile.

Minho doesn’t utter anything more to you. He nods and exits the restaurant, leaving you sitting by the table alone. Despite the stares, hushed whispers and an urge to run away and hide from the audience, you stay a little longer and drink up that damned bottle of wine until there’s no droplets left inside.  

Once you’re outside, you inhale greedily the fresh air. Your head spins a little and you’re debating whether to take an Uber home or just walk thirty minutes on your own to sober up a little. You choose the latter.  

You don’t know what makes you dial his number. You’ve never done that before. He was the one calling you in the middle of the name and begging without words to tend his wounds. Tables have turned, and here you are.  

You call once, twice. After the fifth attempt you give up, showing your phone into the pocket of your coat. As the first tear rolls down your cheek, you realise he would never be there to pick up your pieces.

Three missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:11pm] jungkook:

I’m so sorry y/n. I couldn’t pick up the phone cause we had late practice  

Please call me back. I’m worried

Two missed calls from: Jungkook

[11:36pm] jungkook:  

At least text me if you’re okay

Please  

[11:39pm] me:

I’m fine

[11:39pm] jungkook:  

Thank God

You sure you don’t wanna talk?

[11:41pm] me:

Maybe next time

[11:41pm] jungkook:

Okay  

Night, miss grumpy  

You’re sitting in your favourite cafeteria, typing furiously on your laptop the last paragraph in your assignment. Your philosophy proffesor has been a bitch lately, telling you to write essays about the most uninteresting stuff she could possibly think of. And here you are, writing about Hegel’s triads, reminding yourself the semester soon will be over and so will be your mandatory philosophy classes.

Taking a moment to sip on a caramel macchiato you ordered, you notice a message popping up on your lockscreen.  

[10:45am] jungkook:  

Do you have time now?  

I need to tell you sth  

It’s been two days since your date with Minho. You’re still mentally flogging yourself for calling Jungkook that night repulsively because of your tipsiness. In that exact moment, he was the only person on your mind you could talk to. Once the fresh air cooled down your emotions, you realised how stupid your idea was. 

With slight resistance (and raced heartbeat), you type a response. 

[10:46am] me:  

I guess  

[10:46am] jungkook:  

Great. I’m gonna call you now

Eyes widening, you stare at your phone. What is so important that he cannot just text you instead? Not even a minute later, you hear buzzing. Exhaling shakily, you answer it.  

“Hi, Miss Grumpy,” Jungkook says and you could tell by the tone of his voice he’s in a good mood. He sounds like the old Jungkook you know well. It’s a pleasant surprise. “What’s up?”  

“You called me to ask how am I doing?”  

Jungkook chuckles and something inside you flutters hearing that. “And what if I did?”  

Rolling your eyes, you respond, “Let’s just say it’s unusual of you. Shouldn’t you be at some dance practice right now?” you ask.

“We just ended a company meeting. And this is exactly the reason why I’m calling you.”  

“Should I be scared?”  

”Not at all. I’m gonna move straight to the point,” he says and your pulse involuntarily quickens. “Are you free next weekend?”  

You bite your lip. There’s a part of you that wants so bad to counter with “What? Do you need a booty call?” but you don’t let your facade break that easily. Instead, you tell the truth. “Yeah, I am.”  

“Would you like to go with me to Busan then?”  

You nearly spill the coffee onto your laptop. “Oh.” You can’t quite hide the surprise in your voice. You would never expect him to propose you such thing, yet here you are.

It’s been a while since you were home. Not like you don’t want to see your parents, it’s actually the opposite. The reason you haven’t been in Busan for months is simple: you don’t have extra cash on the side to afford a two-way train ticket.  

Sensing your bewilderment, Jungkook takes your silence as a sign to explain further his sudden proposition. “Our company gave us few days off to relax before final comeback preparations so I decided I could go home,” It’s what he says and unsure of what to answer with, you only hum in response. “You told me some time ago you haven’t seen your parents since Christmas so I thought you might accompany me.”  

Something squeezes in your chest hearing that. You fail to hide the smile creeping on your features and despite the many obstacles that should be a warning sign for you to say no, you find yourself reminiscing in the idea of spending a weekend at home with Jungkook. Just like old times.  

“Okay. I agree.”  

Upon hearing your response, Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief to the phone. “I thought you would ditch me.”  

“Excuse me? Who do you think I am? I wouldn’t miss an opportunity to eat my mum’s bulgogi.”  

You can’t ignore how you’re feeling, cheeks flushed and a silly smile stretching on your lips. But there’s still that bugging thought present at the back of your head, reminding you of your illicit affair and every mistake you’ve made so far. Maybe agreeing to a small trip down childhood memory lane is one of them.  

Right now, sitting in a cafeteria and talking on the phone with Jungkook about the details and your mum’s cooking skills, you pretend like you’ve turned back the time and everything else is a mere drawback to deal with later.

“I can’t believe I agreed to do that.”  

That, is a blatant lie. You know damn well why you’re standing on the pavement in front of the building you live in as Jungkook pulls up with his high-priced, straight-from-the-salon black Mercedes. Something ignites in your lower stomach at the mere memory of what you’ve done there inside last time.

When he exits the car, you disregard as best as you can the aloof feeling in your chest, seeing him adjusting his bucket hat further down. This is the life he’s living, you remind yourself. If he wants to minimize the risk of people with preying eyes recognizing him.

Dressed in all black, he comes up to you and lifts his head up. That’s when you see him fully for the first time since he stumbled through your drunk and barely conscious. He smiles widely approaching you, not an ounce of uncertainty in his movements when he wraps his arms around you in a bear hug.  

“What’s that for?” you mumble.

“Just missed you.”  

He smells like the flowery fabric softener you know he likes. It almost lulls you into paying no mind to the thumping of your heart against your ribcage and redness blossoming on your cheeks.  

It almost makes you forget he’s not yours, and you will never be his.  

You’re the first one to withdraw, stepping away. “You’re such a sap.” It’s the first thing that comes to your mind to say after such intimate moment  – twist it into something without depth and meaning you’re so afraid of facing.

He shrugs, still smiling. “I’m just happy we’re going to spend some time together with our families.”  

You know he is. Jungkook has always been a family person. Moving out at a ripe age of fourteen paradoxically strengthened the bond he has with his parents and brother.  

He picks up your bag from the ground and throws it into the trunk next to his. Getting into the car, you mutter, “You know, I tweet ‘eat the rich’ every two days but you are safe from my hatred for high class as long as you drive my ass with this expensive car to Busan.”

Jungkook chuckles, starting the engine. “Thanks for your kindness, love. Good to know I’m pardoned.”  

“Jokes aside, I mean it though. I might want Jeff Bezos to rot in hell but at the same time I think you deserve that money because I know you worked hard to achieve it.” you say, buckling your seatbelt.  

He spares you a quick glance and arches his eyebrow. “I didn’t know you are actually a fellow comrade Y/N, Miss Grumpy.”  

“Oh, boy. Follow me on my private account. You’ll see then how radical I can get.”  

You earn another laugh from him and you find yourself getting more and more comfortable in the situation, sitting in his car and venturing onto a weekend trip to your hometown. The perspective of spending a couple of hours with Jungkook in the same car doesn’t seem to bother you as much as it did the whole week before.

Tapping the unknown rhythm on your thighs, you reach to press what you think might be the radio button. Your aren’t good with modern technology, so you smile triumphantly to yourself, hearing the first tunes blasting from the speakers. 

The slow pop-ballad ends and radio host announces next song as ‘fan favorite’. You look out of the window for a short while just to be brought back to the reality by the sound playing in the background. You know this song more than well.

“No. We are not listening to this.” Jungkook reaches to change the radio station with a speed of light, but you swat his hand away.  

“Jesus christ, stop being so dramatic. I love Blood Sweat and Tears! It’s a masterpiece.” you protest.

“I thought you don’t listen to our songs.”

You gasp, placing a hand on your chest. “Excuse me? I’ve been to your concert twice, dumbass. And I’m saving up money for another.”  

That, is true. You like listening to BTS not because of Jungkook (though he might one of the reasons you fancy them) but it’s their music and message in general. Now, since they’re over their badboy phases and objectifying women in every ‘love song’, you’re fond of them even more.

You start humming Namjoon’s part when Jungkook cuts in. “Okay, then. Who’s your bias?” he asks.  

You don’t miss the way he seems to grip the steering wheel tighter. Of course he would be that petty to ask you this. To entertain yourself a little, you quip, “Take a wild guess.”  

“It has to be Jimin-hyung.” he says right away.

You shake your head. “Boo. Try again.”  

“Namjoon-hyung. You bit your lip when he started rapping his part.”  

“That’s bullshit. Namjoon’s hot but not my type. And you should keep your eyes on the road, buddy.” Placing your fingers on his chin, you turn his head away.

Jungkook sighs. “Who is it then?”  

“Taehyung.”  

Hearing your response, he snorts. “I should’ve known that.”

“And why is that?” you ask, trying to hide your amusement.

“Because he’s the most good looking from us all. He dresses stylishly,” You could tell by the tongue in his cheek you’re irking him right now. Adding to the irony, Taehyung’s part in the song comes blasting from the speakers. “He has a nice, deep voice.” Jungkook adds and before he can name another positive trait of his friend, you chime in.  

“Is somebody jealous?”  

Though you’re clearly making fun of him, he decides to chuckle like he doesn’t give a fuck anyway. “Jealous? Of Tae? Please. I have no reason to be.”  

Smirking to yourself, you find his demeanor too entertaining. “That’s good then. Because I think you’re handsome too. And I love your voice when you sing.” you say, turning your head to the side to observe his reaction.  

No matter how much he tries to hide it, clenching his jaw and giving you an eye roll, there’s no use for that. The blush covering his cheeks gives him anyway. His agony ends with one last beat of the song.  

Hiding a yawn behind your palm, you lean back onto your seat. Last night you didn’t get as much as you’d like to and your four hours long drive to Busan seems like a great opportunity for a compensatory nap.  

Drifting off to sleep, the last thing you remember is Jungkook’s hands on the steering wheel and his soft voice humming the song playing in the radio.

“Hey, sleeping beauty, wake up. We’re almost there.”  

Slowly opening your eyes, you’re met with familiar-looking streets of your hometown, Busan. You jerk abruptly, straightening your posture. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?” you ask, looking to your left at Jungkook.  

He shrugs in response. “You looked like you didn’t want to be waken. And trust me, I know what it feels like to be brought back to reality from a good nap too early.”  

You don’t dwell on that more. Instead, you look out of the window, greedily drinking in the city. You’re now driving through downtown, passing by shining skyscrapers. Both yours and Jungkook’s houses are situated in a more peaceful area of Busan, closer to the sea. That’s why you spent most of your childhood and teenage days there as long as the weather was merciful.  

Spring has always been your favourite time of the year but spring in Busan hits different. You don’t have an occasion to sit by the sea and watch the sky burning in orange and red in Seoul. Here, where you used to grow up, spring is the cherry tree blossoming, your mum planting vegetable seeds in her small garden behind your house, you and Jungkook smoking cigarettes underneath the pier while the sun hides  behind the horizon.

“Did you tell your parents you’re coming?” Jungkook’s voice pulls you from your thoughts.  

“No, I didn’t. I want it to be a surprise for them.”  

“Oh, that’s cute.” he comments curtly and turns right. You’re approximately thirty minutes until you reach your destination. “I need to talk with you about one more thing before we get there.”  

You focus your sight on him, however he seems to avoid your eyes. You give him a sign to continue. “Go on.”

Jungkook rubs his forehead with his hand and then sighs. It’s a nervous habit of his, you recognize. “I just want to apologize for causing you so much trouble. Not only last time but in general,” He stops at the red light and cocks his head to the side to look at you. “I acted like a complete dick and you don’t deserve to be treated like that. I’m sorry for everything. I thought this small trip here would be some sort of redemption for me, I don’t know.” The lights turns to orange, then to green and he focuses his eyes on the road again.

Reaching over the gearshift, you place a hand on his thigh to get his attention. When he peeks at you with the same, round, sparkly eyes you’ve grown to adore, all you can do is smile softly. “I’m okay, Kook. If that’s what you need, I don’t mind helping you. If only it means you’ll be okay too.”  

Perhaps he notices the sadness in your eyes when you say it. Perhaps he can tell your smile is not the happiest he’s ever seen. If he does, he chooses to stay silent. Instead, he nods. Taking his action as a sight to withdraw, you straighten on your seat.  

“There’s one more anything, actually,” Jungkook adds after a while.  

“What is it?”  

“You’re invited to a party.”  

“What party?” you ask, brows furrowed.

‘’We are celebrating Junghyun’s engagement.” he says casually.

Eyes widening, you let out a shocked gasp. “What?! Your brother got engaged?” 

Jungkook sends you a look. “Jealous, buttercup?”  

You roll your eyes. “I told you I had a crush on your brother when I was ten. It’s been twelve years since then. Twelve!” you exclaim, but he only smirks in response.  

The reason you liked Junghyun as a kid was simple: he was your best friend’s older brother. He was just there yet unreachable at the same time.  

(And he didn’t have as many pimples as Jungkook.)

But Junghyun getting married? That is a news to you. You clearly remember him telling you one day he would never form a serious relationship before he reaches thirty. Looks like he made up his mind.

“I’m just pleasantly surprised he decided to settle down. Junghyun has always been more of a free soul when it comes to dating. I even remember your mum throwing him a tantrum during barbecue because of this.” you say.

“Honestly, I’m not that shocked. You should’ve seen him looking at Hyerin during our Christmas dinner. This boy is whipped.” Jungkook chuckles.  

“Your parents must be happy.” you comment absentmindedly.

He nods, the corners of his mouth stretching in a small smile. “Yeah, they are. They really like Hyerin. And considering they won’t be getting grandchildren anytime soon thanks to my line of work–” he trails off, “–they are even happier that hyung is settling down.”  

The air seems heavy now inside Jungkook’s car. He said an obvious thing you were aware of but something aches in your chest at the thought.

You will never understand why there’s so much stigmatization surrounding idols dating other people. Wanting to be loved by someone is a natural, human need. Prohibition won’t magically stop them from catching feelings.  

But there’s also another side of the story – the one Jungkook referred to. In his line of work even if there are no obstacles, it’s hard to maintain a long-lasting relationship. And he knows that.  

You still remember vividly his first girlfriend. Her name was Eunbi and she was one of their manager’s daughter. Her dad used to take her to the MV sets, introduced her to the boys because she was a fan of them. And that’s how she met Jungkook.  

Jungkook, age seventeen, was too shy to hold a proper conversation and keep eye contact with a girl at the same time but somehow, him and Eunbi got along pretty quickly. They shared a sympathy for the same video games and for Jungkook back then it was enough to fall head over heels for her. She was his first kiss as he told you (”First real one, because I don’t count that peck Jisoo gave me in fifth grade as a kiss.”)  

After that moment you decided you’d never like Eunbi. Not because you were furiously in love with him, no.

You just didn’t want to see him form such a close bond with anyone else but you.

Their fairytale love story ended when Eunbi’s father found out about their secret randez-vous. Jungkook sulked for a week and then eventually got over Eunbi.  

(And he was again texting you about that video game you had no interest in but you pretended to be a good substitute for Eunbi and her nerdiness you lacked.)

“What are you thinking about?”  

You’re standing on the red light again. Glancing at Jungkook, you find him staring right back at you. “I’m wondering whether I’m invited to the wedding.” you lie.

“Of course you are. I’m sure hyung is going to do it officially tomorrow,” he answers with a grin. “I think Taehyung is coming too. He loves weddings.”  

Narrowing your eyes, you reply with a saccharine sweet voice, “It’s about time you introduce me to your bandmates. Especially Taehyung-oppa.”

“Oppa?”

You bite your lip. There’s no doubt you did that on purpose. You find it rather amusing to see Jungkook so worked up over such a silly thing. You wonder how far you can go before he finally snaps.  

Smirking to yourself, shrug your shoulders. “The light’s green. Watch the road, Kookie.”  

Jungkook huffs, shaking his head. It’s approximately fifteen minutes until you reach your destination. “I’m sure you will be delighted to meet him.” he says with enough amount of sarcasm for you to know he’s irritated.

“Oh, I will be over the moon.”  

“Good.”  

“Amazing, even.”

You hope he doesn’t notice you failing to maintain a serious expression.

You moved with your parents to your new house in Busan at the age of eight, two ponytails, overalls and sparkly sneakers every kid wanted to have adoring your small frame, a look of pure concern worrying your childish, chubby features. 

It was a quiet neighborhood, on the suburbs of the town, a row of similarly looking terraced buildings and small gardens in front of them, every single one akin to the other. There was nothing distinctive about the area, it screamed dullness and tedium but for years you have grown to call this place home.

You know every corner here inside out. A local grocery store owned by a lovable, elder woman known as Miss Kim, who always has spare candies underneath the counter for children who come to buy something for their parents. Next to the store, there is a florist’s. Your first, high school part-time job. The intense smell of roses makes you nauseous to these days.

There is also your primary school, huge backyard behind it with a run-down playground. You never minded it though, spending there probably too much time for your parents liking. Many memories were made there. First, innocent childish peck placed on your cheek from a 6th grader named Jinyoung. Twisted ankle, tears, pain and regret because you decided to jump off the highest step of the climbing frame one Friday afternoon after classes. A punch to the face of school’s bully Dongin, who called your new pair of Converse trainers ugly.

It was exactly fourteen days before the end of August when you met Jungkook.

You had been living in the new house for almost a month but still felt too insecure to explore the neighborhood. Most of your time you were spending inside, missing your old friends and reading books to distract your attention from the approaching start of the second semester in school.  

It was probably one of the last scorching-hot days of the year and you were sitting in your garden alone, family’s cat named Leo purring on your lap, when all of a sudden a ball bounced on the grass right in front of you, landing perfectly at your feet and almost scarring Leo to death.  

And then, you looked up and saw him.

A pair of big, black doe-like eyes hidden behind a fringe of onyx hair staring at you through the fence curiously. The boy was not much older than you, probably around your age. He was wearing a striped football t-shirt with some popular team name.  

You fidgeted slightly on the pavement where you were sitting, glancing at the boy shyly like you didn’t know why he was looking at you so intensely. You noticed a small scar on his left cheek, his knees were bruised, splashed with dirt just like his sneakers.  

“Can you give me my ball?” he asked suddenly, startling you.  

Your eyes widened. Of course he would talk to you, you scolded yourself, he wants his ball back.

When you didn’t answer immediately, he continued, “I kicked my ball here by an accident. Can you give it to me?” He pointed at the object lying at your feet.  

You nodded and picked up the ball from the ground. You threw it over the fence, so it landed directly on the other side.

“Thanks.” the black-haired boy said. “I’m Jungkook, by the way. What’s your name?”  

“___.” you responded and the boy, Jungkook, grinned at you friendly, showing his bunny-like smile. He looked cute.  

“Bye, ___! See you tomorrow!” he beamed and headed back to his house.

Tomorrow. He wanted to meet up with you and what? Play football? You were petrified, as the eight-years-old girl should be after hearing such thing from a boy.

And just like he promised, Jungkook visited you the next day. He took you to that playground behind your new primary school. You came home with bruised legs and splotches of dirt on your skirt, to your mother’s dismay.

You also came home with a content grin plastered on your face and a new friend.

Unexpectedly, Jungkook appeared to be a pleasant company and you found yourself enjoying his boyish bickering while fulfilling the rest of the summer break doing things your old friends would consider inappropriate for a girl.

You never thought you could be friends with someone like Jungkook. He was a boy, for God’s sake, and your eight-years-old-barbie-phase-self absolutely despised boys. But months passed quickly and you both found yourselves stuck to each other sides. Something in your relationship simply clicked.

The neighborhood you grew up in isn’t a suburban area but it definitely seems more peaceful than busy streets of downtown. You pass by local church, miss Kim’s store and the big, luxurious house owned my Gwon family you dreamt of living in when you were a kid.  

And then, approximately two hundred meters further, there is your house.  

“Here we are.” Jungkook says, pulling up at his parent’s driveway. They left the gate open, anticipating their son’s arrival.  

Jungkook hands you your belongings, offering you sheepish smile. “I thought that once you unpack and eat dinner, we could go to the beach together,” he says, scratching the back of his head. “Of course, only if you want to.”  

You don’t give his proposition a second thought. “I’d love to.”  

He grins in response and you take it as a sign to leave and finally meet your parents. From the distance you see your mother in the garden, dressed in her usual clothing – black and red checked shirt and cropped denim pants she wears while gardening.

She doesn’t notice you yet, too busy pulling weeds from her precious tulips. You know her better not to creep behind her like that, so you take a deep breath and shout, “Eomma! It’s me!”  

She stands up and twirls around to face you. Her eyes visibly widen, like she actually thought her mind is playing tricks on her and she might have misheard you.  

“Good Lord, Y/N, sweetie, is that really you?” She throws away her gloves and jogs up to you, enveloping you immadietly in a bear hug. “I missed you so much. Why didn’t you say anything you’re coming?”  

“I wanted it to be a surprise,” you mumble. “Jungkook took me with him.”  

At that, your mother pulls away. She arches her brows. “Jungkookie is home as well?” she asks, earning a nod from you in response. “You’re talking with him again?” Her voice is laced with apparent bewilderment but that’s exactly what you expected her reaction to be like.  

Your mother is aware you and Jungkook haven’t been keeping in touch for three long years. She was basically your only source of information about him (besides Twitter) thanks to her close friendship with his parents.  

“That’s quite a long story. I will tell you everything later.” you say. Well, maybe not entirely everything. You’re for sure going to miss out the parts you’re not proud of.  

Your mother doesn’t press you more about it. Instead, she puts her arm around your shoulders and pulls you to her side. “It’s your lucky day sweetie, because we have your favorite bulgogi for dinner. Honey, come here quick!” she shouts and you chuckle, hearing your father responding with: “What is it again?”.

The door to your house creak open, revealing your flustered dad. His expression morphs into a genuine smile when he spots you. “Is it really my daughter or are my eyes deceiving me?” he asks.  

‘’Your eyesight is fine, appa. It’s really me.” You come up and give him a small hug. He was never the affectionate type of parent but once you moved out, he let his facade break a little.  

From where you’re standing now, you have a clear view of Jeons’ house. Here, fourteen years ago, sitting on your porch, you met Jungkook for the first time. You see his window upstairs, alligned perfectly with yours. You wonder if he’s already there, inside, unpacking in his blue-painted childhood room.  

(What if it isn’t painted blue anymore?)

“Come on, let’s go. You’re probably starving.” your mother says, pulling your mind back to the present.  

Walking into your house, all you can think about are his tears-filled eyes when you were bidding him goodbye almost ten years ago in his blue bedroom.

It takes you more or less thirty minutes to reach the bay.  

When you were younger, you used to ride there by bikes practically every single day during summer. You loved sitting on the beach and observing people enjoying their time; swimming in the sea, kids building sand castles and their mums trying to relax among childlike chatter and the smell coming from nearby fishmonger’s store.

It was Jungkook who discovered the spot underneath pier. His curiosity only a twelve-year-old can posses led him there one day after school. At first, you were rather reluctant to go and didn’t mirror his excitement but once he actually showed you it, you changed your mind completely.  

It was a perfect place to hide from the world. You called it a ‘temple’ because it really felt like no one beside you knew about its existence, and that’s what made it sacred to you. When Jungkook moved away you were left to go there by yourself. Without him, it always felt like it was something missing.  

Right now, sitting here feels like you’ve you’ve turned back the time.  

It’s like you’re eighteen again, running away from the whole world, starting your own rebellion with a cigarette caught between your lips and sun disappearing behind the horizon. Listening to the songs Jungkooks had saved on his old iPod and catching up with everything that happened during the last few months when he was absent in your life. 

When you were eighteen you didn’t even know how to smoke properly, blowing out the fume too quickly and stiffing a cough so Jungkook wouldn’t laugh at you. Now it’s a different story.

Looking at him from the corner of your eye, you notice how much he’s changed physically over these five years that have passed. Gone is the baby fat on his cheeks, replaced with sculpted jawline and prominent nose. His hair is longer, falling on his forehead. There’s more piercings on his ears, an expensive watch wrapped around his wrist.  

He looks breathtaking. It never occurred to you before just how beautiful Jungkook really is up close, when there’s no flashing cameras around and make-up covering every imperfection on his face with concealer.

This is your Jungkook. The same one whose competitive nature never let you win any of his computer games, who called you after their debut showcase with quivering voice, who always treated you as his equal even when other boys were making fun of him for being friends with a girl. Your Jungkook, who’s too good for this world to be treated so unfairly.  

“I think Minho is cheating on me.” you blurt out.  

It’s been sitting on your tongue for weeks and now you finally let the words slip. You don’t see his reaction but from the sharp intake of breath you assume it’s not something he’s expected to hear from you.

“Few weeks ago I read a message on his phone from some girl asking when he will be free next time,” you continue before you could stop yourself. “He’s been meeting with her alone behind my back this whole time and I didn’t notice anything until now.” A pair of arms wrap around your frame. Jungkook presses a fleeting kiss to the crown of your head. “I don’t even know if that’s true or I’m overreacting but I just can’t understand how he can lie to me one day and the next propose to move in with him.”  

You don’t realise you’re crying until you feel Jungkook hugging you closer to him. You burry you face into his chest as sob after sob shakes your body. “Shh, it’s okay, it’s okay,” he whispers, stroking your hair. “I’m here.”  

Few minutes pass until you calm down, wiping your tear-stained cheeks with your hand. Jungkook offers you a tissue and you thank him with a small smile. You can only imagine how ridiculous you look right now, with smudges of mascara underneath your eyes and red nose. Not a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m sorry. I just needed to get it off my chest.” you say after a moment.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for, Y/N. If you need to talk about it, I’m here for you. I’m still your friend, right?” Jungkook asks, meeting your eyes.

You nod, although he’s anything but friend for you. “Right.”  

Because friends don’t console each other with burning touches on bare skin. They don’t give into carnality and submit to pleasure, putting it before everything else.  

From the corner of your eye, you see Jungkook’s jaw clenching. “I’m gonna kick his ass when I meet him.”  

Before you could stop yourself, you mumble, “He should probably kick yours, too.”   

Jungkook visibly stiffens, hearing your words. He avoids your eyes, staring down at his lap instead. You wonder what he’s thinking about now. Does he regret his actions? Do you regret letting it happen? No matter how much you know you did wrong, there’s a part of you longing for more. Because with Jungkook, you felt alive. Minho could never compare.

Reuniting with Jungkook after three years made you realize just how much you needed him back in your life. You actually stopped being mad at him the moment he stood in your room for the first time that night, disheveled and sleepy.  

You could love him. Perhaps you’ve always did. But he cannot give you more. Nothing besides bitter-sweet pleasure between the sheets.  

It’s Jungkook who speaks first.

“I might not be the best man in the world but I would never, ever hurt you like Minho does,” he says and you know he means it. He stares at you intensely. “You do believe me, right?”  

“I do.” you whisper truthfully.

He then leans closer and when you think he might actually kiss you, he places a small peck on your forehead. ‘’Good,” he murmurs, still inches from your lips. “Come on, let’s go. It’s getting late and I can practically hear my mum already complaining she doesn’t have enough time to spend with her son.”  

You nod aabsentmindedly at his words.

There’s a tough conversation for you to have once you’ll be back in Seoul again. Finding out about Minho’s lies was a point of no return for you. It made you realise you’ve been on this path with your relationship for a while now, missing signs or not paying enough attention to the details.  

But what is even more disturbing to you, is that you didn’t let Jungkook warm your bed out of simple frustration or heartache. You did it because you wanted him. And that thought scares you the most.

The first thing Jungkook hears in the morning when he wakes up is the high-pitched chatter and the clutter of pots coming from the kitchen.  

He sighs to himself, staring at his blue ceiling. The clock on his bedside table reads 10am and at this rate, it looks like he won’t be getting any more sleep, not when his mum and soon-to-be sister-in-law are making a fuss downstairs preparing for the party.  

The strong smell of homemade food invades his senses as soon as he enters the kitchen. He spots his mum putting something in the oven, her usual red and white polka-dot apron adoring her form. Hyerin is right next to her, busy cutting some vegetables and listening tentatively to her mother-in-law’s babbling.  

“Good morning.” Jungkook says in a groggy voice followed by a yawn.  

“Morning.” Hyerin quips, flashing him a smile.

Jungkook’s mother barely acknowledges his presence, too busy moving around the kitchen and making sure nothing is burning or overcooking. Feeling the first rumble of his stomach, Jungkook opens the fridge and stares blankly at its contents.  

Miss Jeon runs her house by the rule the more, the better when it comes to preparing food for special family occasions. Hence why there’s so many different type of products lined up in front of him, just begging to become a remedy for his empty stomach.  

“Nu-uh, don’t even think about it!” she chimes in, closing the fridge in front of Jungkook’s face and crushing his dreams about having egg toasts for breakfast. He stares at her with confused expression. “Order yourself something for breakfast, please. We need kitchen to ourselves right now.”  

Knowing better not to argue with his mother, Jungkook sighs in defeat and opens the food delivery app on his phone. He chooses the first option that comes to his mind that won’t take too long to make and slumps down onto the couch.  

“Eomma, where’s dad and hyung?” he asks, debating whether to turn on the TV or not. He decides on leaving it silent.  

“I sent them to the grocery store. They should be back in two hours,” she responds. “Hyerin-ssi, please make sure to keep an eye on the soup. I’ll be right back!” The door to bathroom slams behind her and Jungkook chuckles under his breath.  

“Is she giving you hard time?” he asks Hyerin once he knows his mother cannot hear them.

Hyerin looks up to peek a glance in his direction. “Your mum is a lovely person, really, but she can be… a lot sometimes. Especially when she’s stressed.” she says, smiling coyly.

“Tell me about it.”  

She lets out a laugh that quickly dies down when aforementioned woman emerges from the bathroom. Instead of heading straight to the kitchen, she makes her way to Jungkook. “What are you planning to do after breakfast, Jungkookie?”  

Jungkook shrugs because honestly, he hasn’t given a thought it yet. “I don’t know. Maybe I can help you with something here.” he proposes, although cutting onions and cabbage is the last thing he would like to do.

Fortunately, the grimace on his mother’s face tells her she’s not quite fond of his proposition. “Oh, no, no, no. We’re perfectly fine on our own with Hyerin-ssi. We don’t need extra pair of hands. Why do you think I told Junghyun to go with dad?” she asks rhetorically with raised eyebrows.  

Of course Jungkook knows why. Kitchen is his mother’s kingdom. No one steps a foot there while she prepares food unless she permits it herself. Today she’s even more uncompromising about it because it’s the first time Hyerin parents are meeting Junghyun’s. It’s the matter of making a good impression as the host.  

“Maybe you could call Y/N and ask her what her plans are? I’m sure she won’t be very busy.” Jungkook’s mother prompts and he feels like he’s ten again, bored on Saturday and wondering what to do with himself. Then, an idea pops in his mind.

“Yeah. You’re right,” he agrees. “I’ll call her.”  

Maybe a literal trip down memory lane is everything he needs to feel like himself again.  

As predicted, at first you welcomed his idea with a little bit of qualm, yet you said yes nonetheless.  

And now here you are, hanging out together at the playground behind your old primary school. Getting there wasn’t an easy task, it required some parkour abilities and jumping over the fence because the place is apparently being locked on weekends now. Ten years ago it used to be your life estate on Saturdays.

You’re currently sat on a swing, watching Jungkook doing pull ups. You have a nagging suspicion that he chose to go on with his daily workout routine right now on purpose but you’re not better yourself, doing rather poor job at ignoring the way his hoodie rides upwards with every move he makes, revealing his toned abdomen.

“Okay, I’m done.” he grunts, letting go of the bar. He plops down on the other swing next you with a heavy exhale. “How many was it?” he then asks, referring to the number of pull ups you were supposed to keep a track off.

For a moment you forget you’re supposed to answer, eyes focused on Jungkook’s throat as he chugs down the whole water bottle.

“Hmm?” he repeats and you quickly snap out of your trance.

“I lost count.” Truthfully, you didn’t even make an attempt to do so. You were too distracted by the act itself to pay attention to anything else, let alone do basic math. Now you do understand all these girls going crazy when they get a glimpse of his sculpted body.

Jungkook rolls his eyes in response and starts swinging himself back and forth. It you recall correctly, he lost one of his front baby teeth here, jumping off the swing.

“I thought a lot of would change here after so many years. But it looks exactly like I remembered it.” he says, slowing down to a halt.

You nod at his words. Apart from a little painting and renovations done here and there, it’s like it all got stuck in time. You’re about to add that your mother told you the infamous principal Choi is still consistently running the school, but Jungkook doesn’t let you vocalize it.

“Wait,” He stands up suddenly and walks to the seesaw swing. You furrow your brows as he crouches on the ground and attentively observes the object, presumably searching for something. “A-ha! Here it is! I knew it still would be there.” he exclaims excitedly after a few seconds.

Confused, you come up to him. “What are you doing?”  

“Look,” he says, pointing at the wooden base of the seesaw. At first glance you don’t notice anything but as you get closer, you see what he meant.  

Jinyoung + Y/N = ♡ engraved on the swing.

“Oh my god.” you groan, covering your face in embarrassment.  

Jungkook ignores your whining and actually snaps a picture of his finding. “You know what’s actually funny? It was me who did this because you didn’t have enough strength.” He giggles, making your cheeks heat up in bright shade of red. “I stole my dad’s pocket knife for it. Such a shame your love story lasted only a week.”  

“I’m not listening to you!” you announce and quickly come back to your previous spot on the swing.

Jungkook doesn’t give up easily though, enjoying tormenting you with your pre-teen love life. He follows you, asking, “Wasn’t he your first kiss as well?” You keep your mouth shut, avoiding his eyes. He then clasps his hands. “Yeah, I remember now. Sixth grade. He kissed you here, am I right?”  

You wish you could wipe off that smirk from his face.  

“I never liked Jinyoung,” he continues, sitting down next to you on the second swing. “But I always wanted to have that black range rover his dad drove.”  

Your face heats up even more at the mere mention of Jinyoung and his dad’s car in one sentence. Jungkook can make fun of your silly crush as much he wants, but he doesn’t know one thing.  

That your little infatuation had a sequel.  

Taking a deep breath, you lean closer to him and ask, “Wanna know a secret?” He sends you a curious look and nods. You brace yourself for what is about to come. “I lost my virginity at the back of that range rover.”

Jungkook chokes on air. His eyes widen in pure shock and you have to fight an urge to laugh at how ridiculous he looks right now, gaping at you with mouth wide open. “What the fuck, Y/N?! Tell me you’re joking, please.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “I wish but unfortunately, that’s true. We went to the same high school and somehow… our paths crossed together again.” you explain.

“And you decided to fuck him in his dad’s car?”  

“No, dumbass. We were dating. For whole six months.”  

Jungkook sends you a look. “And you didn’t tell me?”

“It’s not like we were talking back then,” you reply sheepishly, toying with the edge of your sweater. Suddenly it’s hard for you to meet his scrutinizing  stare. “You stopped responding to my messages a little before I started dating him.”  

The atmosphere between you tenses. Jungkook’s expression morphs from astonishment into guilt and you curse yourself for ruining the mood.  

Jinyoung is just a mere memory, one of many mistakes you made during your teen years. He wasn’t anyone special to you anymore, he never had been. Not even when he deflowered you on the backseat of his dad’s car one night after some party. You were too drunk to care and too inexperienced to do more than just lie there and take it. With your skirt hiked up and blouse mid-open, wondering if Jinyoung was just as clueless as you when it came to sex or he simply didn’t know how to pleasure women.

What Jungkook doesn’t have to know, is that you jumped into the relationship with Jinyoung to fill the void your best friend created three years ago with unanswered messages and never returned calls.  You were lonely in high school, you couldn’t manage to form a close bond with anyone after Jungkook. You hoped Jinyoung was good enough for a replacement.

“What about you then?” you ask to clear the atmosphere. “I told you my secret, now you reveal me yours.”  

To loosen up the tension a bit, you decide to play the quid pro quo card. Partially out of curiosity, but mostly because you feel like you’ve exposed yourself too much in a short period of time. It will only be fair if he gives you the same in return.  

Jungkook smiles bashfully. For the person who had done many dirty things to you before, he sure looks shy now. “I was nineteen as well. She was a friend of a friend, four years older than me. We met a party, flirted a little and one thing led to another,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. “I’ve never seen here after that. She tried to contact me but I just… I didn’t want to commit to something more.”

Is he ready for more now? you wonder silently. The question stays at the tip of your tongue though. You can’t wish for more when everything he’s able to provide is a few, quick moments of blissful relief between the sheets when sun goes down.  

But what if you want more? What if you’ve always, subconsciously, felt like you belonged together but universe decided to split you apart? What if you’ve always been in love with your best friend?  

The realization hits you like a tsunami. All these years, you spent denying your feelings for him. And when there’s a chance for you act on them, you back away. 

Because even if he’s now inches from you, he seems out of your reach.

By the time you gulp down your third glass of champagne, Jungkook’s brother’s engagement party is in full swing.  

Junghyun and Hyerin didn’t invite many people to celebrate. It’s a small, family gathering. Your parents were invited thanks to the almost twenty-years-long friendship with Jeons, which started when you moved into the new house next to theirs.  

Jungkook looks painfully handsome dressed in black suit pants and emerald green button-up shirt. His raven hair is styled the way you like the most, parted in the middle and revealing his forhead. You, on the other hand, are wearing a simple, long-sleeved navy blue dress you’ve had on multiple occasions before but it’s still your top go-to garment when you have nothing else to put on.

“Have I told you look great tonight, buttercup?”  

Turning around, you’re met with Junghyun’s smiling face. Of course he would approach you with his childhood nickname for you that used to make your heart flutter.

Besides his hair color, there’s little resemblance between him and Jungkook when it comes to appearance. While Jungkook took a lot after their father, Junghyun is almost a cardboard copy of their mum. Even their characters are two polar opposites. Junghyun is the more outgoing, boisterous type but Jungkook still tends to act introverted towards strangers.  

And paradoxically, it’s the younger brother who’s making a career in entertainment industry.

“Shouldn’t you be complementing your fiancée instead?” you ask, accepting another glass of Martini Junghyun hands you.  

“As you can see, she’s busy being interrogated by my mother.”  

From the corner of your eye, you see Hyerin nodding along to whatever miss Jeon is telling her right now, expressively gesturing. It’s her brand to do so. Your father says that she talks with her mouth and hands simultaneously.

“I’m sure Hyerin-ssi went through it already when they were preparing food together earlier today.” you joke.

Junghyun chuckles, having a seat next to you. He sends quick, supportive thumbs-up to to his girlfriend when she glances at him from the spot she occupies on the couch. You can’t help but coo at the sight.

“So,” you quip, “when’s the wedding?”  

“Next year in August,” Junghyun answers. “You’re obviously invited as well.”  

You smirk around the champagne glass. “I wouldn’t miss seeing my childhood crush getting married.”  

Junghyun laughs at that, throwing his head back. After a moment he adds, “It’s funny though, how you were gushing over me when the boy who had heart eyes for you was right under your nose.”  

You arch a brow. “You mean Jungkook? He had a crush on me?”  

“If course he did. You were the only girl who talked to him and moreover, you always helped him with his homework and you know how bad he was at algebra,” Junghyun says, sending you a knowing look. That much is true. Jungkook did suck at Math and could not, for crying out loud, interact with girls. “If he could, he would’ve taken you with him to Seoul all those years ago.”  

Your eyes involuntarily drift to aforementioned boy, standing with his father in the kitchen. They are looking at something your dad is showing them on his phone, probably pictures of the car he recently renovated.  

(A classic Chevrolet Camaro 1969. For all you know it looked like Damon’s car in Vampire Diaries.)

You can see Jungkook’s eyes growing big as he stares down at the screen. Obviously, he’s genuinely amazed with what he sees. You can only hope your dad won’t try persuading him to sell his luxurious Mercedes and buy something vintage instead.

“Why didn’t ever tell me that?” you ask, your voice quivery. You take another gulp of your drink to soothe the emotions bubbling in your chest and you barely succeed.

Junghyun shrugs his shoulders in response. “Would it change anything? You were thirteen-year-old kids back then and he was moving out to another city to make his big dream come true.”  

Pursing your lips, you nod. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”  

You don’t know exactly what Jungkook feels for you right now. Back when you were teenagers, it was just a fleeting attraction. Perhaps he thought about you this way because you were a girl who liked spending time with him.  

“I know him giving up your friendship was a dick move but you have to believe me that this boy has been really lost these past three years. Now he’s trying to find himself again, to become a better version of himself,” Junghyun remarks. “He needs his best friend to help him do so.”  

Turning once again to look at Jungkook, you catch him staring right back at you. He flashes a cheeky grin and completely fails winking at you. You’re lips automatically stretch into a smile seeing his goofiness. You like that side of him. It suits him.

“I think I need to go save my fiancee from my mother.” Junghyun whispers, catching you off guard. He follows your line of sight and smirks to himself. “Go talk to him. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t mind snatching Jungkook for a bit.” Unlike his younger brother, he lands a perfect wink.

Like beckoned, Jungkook approaches you when Junghyun leaves the table. “Aren’t you a little sad he’s getting married, buttercup?” It’s the first thing that night he says to you.  

Fighting an urge to snort, you ask, “Aren’t you tired of being jealous I chose Junghyun-oppa as the object of my affection and not you when we were kids?”

Jungkook bites the inside of his cheek, manifesting his irritation. You relish in it even more now, having the knowledge he used to pin after you. He ignores your witty retort though completely.

“Want to get out of here for a while?”  

Your heart skips a beat. “Where?” you blurt out, looking around the room for any place comfortable for you to stay in for a while.

“Isn’t it obvious?” When you raise your brows in question he adds, “To your house, of course.”  

“But–”

He shooshes you with a finger on his lips. “No buts, Miss Grumpy. It’s been ages since I’ve been in your room. Do you still have that Edward Cullen’s poster above your bed?” he asks and this time, you actually land a punch to his arm.

Downing the rest of your champagne, you get up from the chair. “Shall we?”  

“Ladies first.”  

“I still can’t understand why did you really hang a poster of some pale dude above your bed.”  

You’re climbing up the stairs to your room, and Jungkook is in the middle of his rant about Why Twilight Has Ever Been A Thing. You’re ten seconds from pointing out his teenage female crushes one by one, starting with IU just to rile him up.

“It’s just weird for me,” he huffs upon taking one last step to the top.

You whip your head to send him a glare. “Do you really want me to say the same thing about your fans worshipping your posters?” you ask, eyes narrowed. “You’re out of their reach just like Edward Cullen was out of mine when I was fourteen.”

He points his finger at you. “But he’s a fictional vampire and I’m real.”  

“Exactly!”  

You leave him with that, eyebrows scrunched in confusion, and open the door to your room.

“So you did get rid of him after all.”  

Nothing really much changed in your childhood room since you moved out four years ago. Your walls are still painted in lavender but the posters are long gone, much to Jungkook’s dismay. There is a bookshelf with all your favorite positions (Twilight included) standing directly next to the desk which is now pearl white, just like the rest of your furniture.  

Before you can say anything, Jungkook plops down onto your bed. “You still got them though,” he murmurs and you glance in his direction, waiting for him to elaborate on what he means. He raises his finger to the ceiling. “Those yellow stars that shine when it’s dark. You have the same in your apartment in Seoul.”  

“Oh, yeah,” you awkwardly reply, looking up. “I put them there so I can have something reminding me of home.”  

Truth to be told, you are a sentimental person. The very best evidence of your heart’s weakness is the corkboard with old photos in your apartment. As cheesy as it might sound, it gives you a sense of comfort.

Jungkook hums at that and pats the spot next to him with his hand. “Come lay with me.” he proposes.

“Why?” you ask, although you sit down on the bed anyway.  

“Because I want you to,” he grumbles and places his palm on your stomach, pushing you to lay flat. “There you go.”  

It reminds you of old days, how you used to lay down with him like that on your bed and just do nothing, simply staring at the constellations on your ceiling in silence or speaking about trivial things.  

Life was much easier back then, when there was no cameras flashing around and capturing every move your best friend makes. When you were just two kids with head full of dreams and dragging on forever doing your Chemistry homework. When you were each other’s beginning and end, yin and yang, sun and moon and the starry sky above you.  

It slips off your tongue eventually, what have you been meaning to ask him since the beginning of your illicit affair. And now it seems like you’ve finally reached the point of no return. “What are we, Jungkook?”  

You turn your head to the side, staring at his right profile. His chiseled jawline, black lashes ghosting the skin of your cheeks. He opens his eyes slowly, focusing his sight on you but you quickly look away.

“You know damn well that we aren’t just friends anymore. Maybe we’ve never been,” You sit up straight from your position, finally gaining enough courage to face the matter. “You can’t play with my emotions like that and expect me not to catch any feelings for you. You’re confusing me so much, Jungkook. I don’t think I can go on like that any more.”  

You feel his palm on the small of your back, comforting and bringing you a brief wave of solace. He follows suit, getting up from his position as well. “Look at me,” he murmurs and you jerk your head to the side. You don’t want him to see you like this again - vulnerable and exposed. “Please, ___.”  

It’s his pleading voice that makes you succumb to his request. Hesitantly, you accept his touch on your cheek and meet his doe eyes, two black charcoals shining in the dim lighting of your childhood room. He has the same look in them as you saw the first time he kissed you. If the teeth worrying his bottom lip are anything to go by, you could mistake it for nervousness.  

“I shouldn’t feel that way about you,” Jungkook finally says. “I shouldn’t wake up with an urge to text you because if I didn’t, my day would be incomplete. I shouldn’t picture us doing mundane things like cooking ramen in your apartment or picking you up from work,” he recites, voice laced with an emotion you can’t quite put the name on. Or maybe you do.

It’s longing.  

“I shouldn’t imagine us being together because I can’t give you all of these things, ___.” Lone tear slides down your cheek and he catches it with his thumb. “I’m so, so sorry.”  

You’re shaking your head, because no, he shouldn’t apologize for the world’s unfairness, for wanting to have more of you, of freedom. “Jungkook–” you start but he’s quick to interrupt you.  

“I told you this before and I’m repeating it now: you deserve so much better than what I can give you, ___.”  

He tries to distance himself, to back away and leave because that’s what he’s a master of but you beat him to it, extending your index finger and poking him right in the middle of his chest. “Now you listen to me, Jeon Jungkook,” you urge, not caring about your tear-strained cheeks and shaky voice. “I’m a very stubborn person, and you know that. If I wanted to leave you, I would’ve kicked you out of my apartment the day your drunk ass stormed back into my life.”  

He smiles sheepishly, putting a strand of hair behind your ear. “And why didn’t you do that?” he asks, his palm not leaving your cheek.  

“Because more than anything, I’ve never stopped caring about you,” It’s almost a whisper. “No matter how hurt I was, I couldn’t let you slip away from my reach again.”  

And then he’s leaning even closer, lips almost touching yours yet it feels like it’s not enough. It’ll never be. “___,” he murmurs your name softly, breath smelling of champagne hot on your skin. You feel dizzy, drunk on him. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”  

You both know it’s a white lie, that as soon as you’re back in Seoul the reality will brutally kick you in but you let yourself for a moment indulge in this fantasy – that you’re his and he’s yours. You’re on the opposite sides of the spectrum, yet you cannot be separated.  

And you need to hear him say it.

“Promise?”  

Jungkook seals it with a kiss, the one that leaves you breathless and pliant in his arms, blindly reaching for him and pulling him closer with your hands on his neck. “Promise.” he whispers, eyes trained on yours.

For now, it has to be enough.

Then, as if he can’t hold himself back any longer, he dives in for more, hands finding purchase on your hips. He’s tugging you closer until you’re perched on top of his thighs, feeling the hard flesh flexing underneath your weight. It feels familiar; that funny, pulsing sensation building up in your core when he swipes his tongue over your bottom lip to meet yours. It makes you tangle your fingers in his black locks and pull, just to hear him groan into your mouth.

But there’s another pressing matter on your mind and before you can go any further, you’re pulling away from his lips with a light smack. Jungkook doesn’t take the hint though, anchoring your hips over his crotch.

“Wait,” you mumble in between kisses, biting down the moan that almost tears from your throat when he uses the grip on your body to grind down on him. “What about the party? What if parents will come home and–”

“Shhh,” He silents you with a peck on your quivery lips. “They won’t. The party has barely started. And even if they do come home, you’ll just have to be quiet, right?” Something about his tone makes you nibble on your bottom lip to suppress a whimper. He sees it, and leans down to kiss your throat. “Can you do that for me, baby?”  

“Mhm,” you mewl, angling your neck to give him more access. He sucks a mark right above your sternum and it almost distracts you from asking him one more thing. “Jungkook,”  

He licks a stripe up the column of your throat and looks at you, lips shining with saliva. “What is this?”  

Despite the urge to kiss him stupid right here and there, you cup his cheeks and repeat the same question that led you to this very moment. “What are we?”  

Jungkook looks like a living sin with his blown out pupils and disheveled hair yet his gaze is nothing less than affectionate. He brings one of your hands to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. “Whatever you want us to be,” he responds, sincere. “You know I never give up without trying.”

You nod, a small smile dancing on your features. “I know.”  

He captures your mouth in another kiss, like he’s trying to prove his statement with actions; sucking, biting, kneading your supple flesh just right. Suddenly there’s too many clothes separating you and your fingers grip his silk shirt in faint attempt to satisfy your yearning to feel him fully.

As if reading your mind, Jungkook stops mid-decorating your neck with yet another red mark. “Get up and take off your dress for me, baby.” he says, all soft but still demanding enough to make your knees wobble. As much as you love the dominant side of him, you’re enjoying this new-found softness of his.  

You comply to his request in an instant, raising from his lap to a standing position. Your fingers travel to your backside and pull the zipper down. Your dress falls on the floor with light thud, leaving you in your underwear. It’s matching but not your best pick nonetheless; simple black lace bra and cotton panties. Jungkook doesn’t seem to mind though, two antsy hands gently pulling you closer to him until you’re in between his thighs.  

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs, leaning down to press a feathery kiss on your belly. You let out a shaky sigh, trying to avert your gaze away from his burning stare but he destroys your attempt. “Don’t shy away from me now.” A squeeze to your hip is a warning. You give in, looking down just to see him smirking right back at you.  

“I won’t if you take off your clothes as well.” you challenge despite your trembling voice.

He gets up, towering over your figure. “Undress me then.” Your shaky fingers reach for the buttons, opening one by one. He watches your movements attentively, lets you run your palms over his broad chest. His silky shirt joins your dress on the floor as you fumble with his belt buckle.  

There’s something intimate about this moment. It’s not the first time you’re seeing each other naked yet everything feels new, unchartered. You’re exploring each other again, mapping your bodies with subtle touches and observant eyes. 

Jungkook strips off his slacks, steps off his shoes along with socks. He sends you a cheeky grin. “Now we’re even.” He swallows your giggle with his mouth, not wasting any more time and pressing you against his body.  

You moan when you feel his erection touching your hip. He uses it as an opportunity to slither his tongue inside, each experienced lick making it hard for you to follow his tempo. You go lax in his hold, letting him snap your bra open. He maneuvers your body until you’re laying on your back and he’s straddling your waist.  

“So pretty,” he marvels, palms caressing your breasts. Your nipples harden under his ministrations, breathy moan escaping your lips when he pinches them. “Such a pretty baby.” he repeats, lost in touching every part of you he can reach.

Jungkook peppers kisses on your belly, hands travelling to your thighs. He leans to kiss you on your panty-clad mound. You mewl at the sensation, unconsciously sliding your legs wide open and giving him more access to your center. “Can I eat you out?” he asks, continuing mouthing over your pussy. When you don’t answer him in time, he slaps your thigh in reprimand. ‘’Hmm?”  

“Please,” you whimper, mind send into overdrive. Minho rarely went down on you and you almost forgot how good it feels to have someone’s mouth on you.

Jungkook grasps your underwear and pulls it down your legs, revealing your dripping pussy to his hungry eyes. His breath tickles your folds, sheets grasped tightly between your fingers. Jungkook kitten-licks your pulsing clit, eyes trained on your face to see every small reaction he emits from you.

“Jungkook,” you keen, hips rising to chase after his mouth.  

He nibbles on your thigh playfully, flashing you a sly smile. “What do you want, doll?”  

It’s the ‘doll’ that makes you whine pitifully at him. He relishes in it, sucking your clit into his mouth as an apology for his teasing.  You whimper, “Please, I want more. Give me more.”  

‘’Demanding, are we?” he snorts but complies anyway. No matter how much he loves hearing you beg, he enjoys eating you out more. He covers you your pussy with his mouth, tongue swiping over your sensitive numb. He licks up clean your soaking slit, not missing a single drop of your pearly arousal.

He groans at the taste and throws your legs over his shoulders. He pulls you even closer to him until his face is burried between thighs. Your fingers wander to his hair on their own accord, threading into his silky strands. After a harsh suck he abuses your clit with, you pull. It spurs him on even more, a groan mouthed against your pussy causing even more slick to drip down your opening. 

“Tell me how good it feels.” he mumbles, glancing up at your face. You focus your sight on him, his chin is shining with translucent substance, hair tangled and sweaty against his forehead.  

“So good,” you mewl.  

“Yeah? That good?” Jungkook asks, tone almost mocking. You’re now only nodding in response, your cunt pulsing with a need to release. “Can you cum for me like this, baby?” he mouths along your folds.  

“Please, please,” You’re nearly crying, tears pricking in the corners because the pleasure is too much to bear. Your clit throbs, eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Oh my god–Kook!”  

“Good girl,” He rewards you with two slender fingers pushing inside your pussy, searching for that one stop that makes your insides flutter. “My pretty baby, tastes so sweet for me.” he rasps before licking a stripe up your cunt.

His digits slide even deeper into you. It sounds sinfully wet but you don’t care, accepting whatever he gives you. And give does he, plunging his fingers repeatedly inside and flicking his tongue against your bud – a perfect symphony to finally send you over the edge.

“There you go,” he murmurs, feeling your walls tightening around his fingers. More juices leak out of your hole and he drinks them up eagerly. “My pretty girl doing so good for me.”  

He prolongs your orgasm until you stop him with a breathy whimper of, “’m sensitive.”  

Jungkook gets up to hover over your shaking body. He opens your mouth with a deep, wet kiss. You taste your arousal on his tongue, feeling no longer foreign and eliciting a moan out of you. His length presses against your hip, hard and straining his briefs. With a surge of boldness you reach down, rolling his underwear off his body. His cock slaps against his abdomen, curved tip leaking precum.

Nibbling on your bottom lip you watch as his hand encloses around his member, giving it a few pumps. He groans, head thrown back. Your eyes focus on the sweat dripping down his sculpted body all the way from his neck down his chest. Jungkook is a sight for sore eyes– slim waist, toned thighs. Everything about him is mesmerizing.  

He settles between your legs, cock prodding at your folds. “You sure?” he asks, searching for your eyes.  

You don’t answer him verbally this time and he doesn’t press about it. Instead you open your legs even wider, a small smile dancing on your features as you nod. You’re welcoming the stretch with a drawn out moan. He pushes himself inside slowly, until he’s flushed against your pelvis, his neatly trimmed pubic hair tickling your skin.  

“Fuck,” he curses, hands coming up to grip your sides so tightly you’re sure they’ll leave fingertip bruises. “You’re so perfect, baby. Made for me.” He leans to press a kiss on your mouth, tongue lazily lacing with yours. It’s messy, saliva trickling down your chin but you don’t care, reciprocating with vigor.  

Jungkook pulls away and places one last peck on your cheek. “Ready?” he murmurs.  

You couldn’t be more than. “Ready.”  

He picks up the pace, blindly reaching for your legs to make you encircle his waist. You’ve never fucked in this position before, with him so close to your face you could practically taste the sweat dripping off his body on your lips. He relishes in having you like this, palms caressing every square inch of your flesh. 

‘’God, I missed having you like this, doll,” he grunts. He props his hand next to your head and it gives him leverage to hammer himself faster into your cunt. “Do you like how I’m fucking you?” he asks and you keen in response. He doesn’t seem to be satisfy with your reaction. “Too fucked out to speak?” You hear him chuckling evily into your ear.

“Shit, Jungkook,” you whimper, throwing your hands over his neck. His skin his hot and slippery under your touch. He rams himself even harder into you, hips never losing the rhythm. You feel the pressure building up in your abdomen already, reducing you to mewling mess underneath him. “I-I love it. So, so much.” you stammer out.

“Yeah?” he prompts, fingers slipping down your belly to toy with your clit. “Love how my cock is fucking you?”

“Yes, yes–fuck,” you chant. “So good.”  

He loses himself in you, in the way how tight you feel around his cock. He tells you this, spits filthy obscenities into your ear and punctuates it with deep strokes inside you. He wants to have you like this forever, keep you to himself and hide from the whole world.  

It’s selfish of him to think that way but he can’t help it, not when you’re moaning so pretty when he tightens his grip on your waist and rails you harder into the mattress. Not when you’re there when he needs you, when you’re his lifeboat bringing him back to the land (sanity).  

He wants to see you smile for him, because of him. Wants to call you his. And that’s what he asks you to, begs in stranded voice. “Say you’re mine,”  You’re shaking your head, tears threatening to spill from your eyes but he needs to hear you say it even if it’ll be just this once. “Please, tell me you’re mine, ___.”

Your whole body shudders from pleasure. You open your quivery lips but nothing comes out of it except for a broken whimper of his name. “J-jungkook–”

“Please,” he pleads once again, entangling your hands from around his neck and pinning them over your head instead. “Say nobody will ever make you feel this way. Fuck you until you cry,” he continues, fingers circling your nub with ferocity. “Fucking say it!”  

You sob, pleasure rippling through your body and throwing you off the edge. “I’m yours,” you whisper hoarsly, staring into his dark orbs. “Yours, yours, yours!” you repeat, creaming his cock with your release.  

“Fuck,” Jungkook groans and you don’t know it’s because of your confession or your walls constracting around his member. Maybe it’s the mixture of both. “You’re mine just like I’m yours.” he spits as the orgasm approaches him, shuddering through his whole body. He comes with a call of your name, spilling himself inside.  

You whimper at the sensation, your arousal mixing with his and dripping from your hole. Jungkook lets go of your wrists, pressing a peck on each of them. His palm cups your cheek and he leans down to kiss you. It’s lazy, your mouths barely moving but it feels good anyway.  

He’s in the middle of pulling his softening cock out of your core when you hear your mum’s voice.  

“___, honey, are you here?” She’s downstairs, approximately forty-five seconds from reaching your room.

Jungkook sends you a panicked look. “Go lock my door!” you hiss. 

He obliges quickly, naked butt jogging across the room to twist the key. You can’t help but giggle as he tiptoes to the bed again. He puts a hand over your mouth and murmurs, “Shhh, be quiet.”  

Your mum’s heels clink on the stairs. Few seconds later she’s knocking on your door. “___, are you there?” she asks. You’re praying she won’t twist the handle because in that case you’ll have a lot of awkward explaining to do. Fortunately, she gives up. “I guess they went for a walk.”  

By ‘they’ she means you and Jungkook who’s currently stifling a laugh against your shoulder. “Well, maybe not for a walk but something equally energy-draining.” he whispers. You elbow him in the stomach, making him chuckle even harder.

When you hear the door to your house closing, you let out a breath of relief. “I knew fucking in my childhood bedroom wasn’t a good idea.”

Jungkook smirks. “You sure about that?” he teases, squeezing your hip. It makes you roll your eyes but you don’t hide the smile on your face afterwards anyway.

Jungkook reaches for your panties and rolls you onto your back, carefully cleaning you up and then himself. He tucks you beneath the covers, encircling your body with his arm. You relish in the heat radiating of him, pressing your cheek right where his heart beats.

“You’ve never told me what would be my biography’s title.” Jungkook says after a moment.  

You smile to yourself, fingertips drawing patterns on his skin absentmindedly. “I’d call it ‘Lost Star’.” you answer.  

“Because I’m a troublesome celebrity?” he chuckles and you shake your head.  

“Well, of course you can interpret it like that but for me it has more of a metaphorical sense,” you explain. “You’re a star, like those on the sky, which got lost and came to Earth instead. That’s why you’re so special. Because you’re out of this world.”  

“I’m no special,” Jungkook grumbles, pouting.  

You sit up from your position to look him in the eyes. “You’re wrong, Jeon Jungkook. And I think I’m not the only person who thinks the same,” you urge. He meets your gaze and you realise how young he looks right now. Young and boyish. “You make thousands of people smile because of your music. That’s a special ability to me.”  

He flashes you a small smile. “I’ve never thanked you for believing in me from the very beginning.” he says, cupping your cheek in his palm.  

“Always.”  

You drift off to sleep with his voice humming softly in your ears.

[4 months later]

“Bangtan Sonyeondan are currently at the Incheon International Airport, leaving for their upcoming world tour. Their first show will be held this Saturday in Los Angeles and–”

You walk into the living room and sit on the sofa, staring at the pictures Korean press took of Jungkook and his bandmates while they were departing to US. They are dressed in their casual clothing and you know the fans are going to freak out seeing Jungkook’s hair has gotten long enough to tie it in a man bun. You’re almost sure the news have already spread on Twitter.

The TV is too big for your liking but Jungkook insisted on buying it anyway. You can almost see the pimple on his cheek he woke up with this morning. It makes you smile involuntarily.

Rest of the design in his–now yours as well– apartment was mainly your idea. He bought it without telling you because he knew you would freak out. And you did, obviously, call him crazy. But he didn’t mind. Told you he needed a space for himself for a very long time and now he has someone to share it with.  

The house feels empty without him. It’s too spacious for one person and when he’s not around, you feel like intruder. But you’ve put on your big girl shoes this morning after a passionate round of love making and teary-eyed goodbyes. You won’t slip them off until he will come home to you in two months.  

He promised he would show you Paris and London. You know he will keep that promise, although you aren’t sure you’ll be able to make it with your new job. After breaking up with Minho, Jungkook encouraged you to try sending your drafts to different publishing companies. And one of them responded positively.

You check your phone–your smiling face meeting you on the lockscreen. Jungkook’s smooching your cheek, but prying eyes wouldn’t be able to tell it’s him from that angle. His last text message is from fifteen minutes ago.  

[5:55pm] jungkook:  

We’re departing in 20 minutes  

I’m missing you already so much:(

You reply, although he’s probably fast asleep like he always does during flying.  

[6:01pm] me:  

Miss u too!!

And you mean it. You’re missing him when he’s at his dance practice, when he’s in the studio. But it has to be enough for now.  

The dates he takes you for have to be in the confines of your apartment. You can’t go for a walk and hold his hand or kiss him in public. He said you needed to wait for the tour to end to discuss publicly announcing your relationship. You’re wondering what’s better: forever hiding or being judged for every step you take.

You’re a strong girl, he once told you. And you’ll continue being one. For the two teenagres on the beach smiling to the camera in the framed photo next to your TV.  

However long it takes.