#one day i realise that this piece had the perfect amount of space for the slug and as usual hanar made the joke even better

[toseeclearly]

i deleted everything by accident

I deleted everything by accident, and now I am grieving.

It's not that these things were important, technically. I deleted a tumblr I barely used or looked at; a place where I would start to write a post, get cold feet, and then leave it in the drafts until I no longer wanted to do anything with it. That's all it was, a graveyard to things I was never going to complete, ideas I'd given up on, plans I never followed through with.

But still, the day they rip the memorial down is still sad, and you'll forever walk by that lamp post and remember that, at one point, there were flowers here.

So I guess I just... use this how I used to use the internet: like a diary. I was once a dedicated blogger, back in the days when being a "blogger" had some sort of caché (I think if you said that now, someone would assume you were using some sort of throwback term, like asking aloud if anyone knew of a video store they could check out. Are there any video stores left? I don't know, and I don't feel like googling right now). I wanted to be a writer, a blogger, I wanted to be like all the cool teens I followed who had custom webpages with sections where they'd post about their thoughts and other sections for cool things they did with their friends. I wanted to be their friend and be posted on their cool blog! But this was the early 2000s, where the only way to contact these people was to either stalk a forum they might be on, or email them directly, and both of those always felt unappealing. So instead, I wrote about my life and my friends, read my friends blogs, hoped to be cool enough to be included. Hundreds of posts, stories and essays and quiz results and absolutely atrocious poetry, we wrote so much, I wrote so much. And all of it is gone, now. Blogs long deleted, websites no longer active, everything lost to digital decay. Or, if you're me, you delete your tumblr by accident while massively tired and only realise too late what you've done. More decay, more insignificant pieces of the web burned away. I'm the only one who cares, but that's fine. I can... rebuild. Or just use this space for my own terrible navel gazing.

I write a lot. I have a fair amount of published work, but I also write a lot that never sees the light of day (and probably never should, mostly for quality control issues). I spent a lot of nights writing Parkdale Haunt, a lot of very late evenings hammering out page after page after page until my eyes hurt and my brain was trying to escape my skull, but it felt good. It was a good time. There's several episodes where I wrote the first draft in a complete haze, like when you're running a marathon (NOTE: I have never run a marathon, but like, stick with me here, I'm just extrapolating from my time as a long distance runner) (SECOND NOTE: I hated long distance running and quit to focus on sprinting and hurdling, which I loved, because sprinting is designed for people who want all their endorphins RIGHT NOW and hurdling is designed for masochists, and the 400m hurdles is the perfect race if you just want to punish yourself for any feeling of hubris that you've ever had in your entire curséd life) and you're just zoning out and pushing through any thought you might have that says hey man, what if you just - oh, I don't know - lied down on that patch of grass over there? Yeah, that would be sick as fuck. Writing feels like that for me sometimes, like hey, wouldn't it be nice to just go to bed? Yeah, bed is good. But then I would look down and there'd be 15 pages in front of me, and I'd feel... great. And also exhausted and vaguely headachy, but great. Then I would just spam Emily and/or Ian with screenshots of scenes at random times. Being in my vicinity means you're getting unhinged screenshots at some point.

So I've been writing again. I've got two scripts going for a new show, here's to hoping it works out. And I guess I can write here when I need/want to procrastinate. I don't have much of a footprint left after I threw my fucking shoes in the ocean.

All this has done is made me miss hurdling.

[layered-worlds]

02/02/24

Personal Statement.

Layered Worlds is a project I feel I may take forward into my personal work. It took me a long time to get the necessary motivation, but now that I have had to choose a point to finish it I feel that I am almost dissatisfied with how many new directions I could take this if I could keep going without time limitations. I was very intimidated initially by the idea of creating a pure ‘utopia’ but have now realised that what someone may deem as perfection will always be challenged by another who sees it as the opposite- Utopia will always be subjective. My concept of technology advancing to a point where humans become one with it originated from Jeanette Winterson’s essays, where she explains the intricacies of its evolution, and how we have/ will entirely ignore it as it happens, as it is handled by the companies that are already aiming and gaining control over our lives. The concept I have created is only the extremes of this being shown: how we could one day be entirely unaware of how our bodies and the flesh inside us are extorted to create a ‘perfect world’. I began my final pieces with my star character, as I feel they are representative of what is ‘half-human’. This progressed to setting the scene of the interior in a bedroom overwhelmed with flesh pink and furniture made of muscle. The exterior shows the environment of natural spaces being made from human flesh and muscles as well as actual ‘half- humans’ growing from the ground.

I had never had the space to explore digital art properly until this project, as it was almost impossible to avoid with the topic at hand. This has caused me to be honestly unhappy with the outcomes I’ve created. I have never used photoshop before this project, and am still learning to draw using IbisPaintX, so my technique is entirely experimental and all over the place; I am yet to find my style. I’ve had huge amounts of technical difficulties just from learning how to use the softwares but have tried by best to implement the style I have with traditional painting/ drawing. The exterior was completed first and has much harsher lines, as I was focused on achieving a cleaner look. The interior was created to put emphasis on texture through softer use of brushes. I’m hoping to come back to these pieces once my digital skills have improved, but for now this is the best I could do. 

[bonksoundeffect]

My beloved @hanarinhightown uttered the magical words "live keeper reaction" and I had to do this kzksksk

Bonus

The normal Live Slug Reaction version

[tteokdoroki]

had it | k.bakugou.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 4.5K

♡ rating: everyone.

♡ genre: pro hero!au, married!au, fluff, comfort.

♡ summary: your pro hero husband is a show off, always has and always will be... but when his big ego gets in the way of you doing your job, you give him little piece of your mind..

♡ warning(s): please read ! mentions of violence, i gave reader a quirk?? bakugou with a daughter ok literally nothing. oh and angst if you squint.

♡ author’s note(s):  hi besties!! happy birthday to meee!! today i’m dropping a fic that’s been a long time coming, its a short and fluffy little piece with domestic baku bc i love him with babies n kids ok ok!! i hope you all have a lovely day <3

♡ masterlist | requests | kofi

some say that working for a pro hero is an honour, no matter what the position is. some may work behind the scenes— creating gear and suits that support the pros protecting their cities or livelihoods. others are in charge of things like reports, PR and even physical health. everyone plays an important role in a hero's career. there’s never a dull moment working in a team supporting the pros, especially if that pro was dynamight.

the offices for katsuki bakugou’s hero agency were always buzzing; usually because the clean up team were rushing through with stacks upon stacks of receipts and paperwork from the damage done during bakugou’s patrols— other times it would be his secretaries gossiping about how good he looks in his winter costume because damn did that tight black shirt do his arms justice but usually it was just because of the PR team contacting media outlets with excuses for bakugou’s potty mouth.

working for the hot headed blonde was more laid back than it seemed however, the man himself was rarely ever in the office as the number two hero but out on missions instead, the pay was pretty decent and no one ever really faced his angry wrath nor his sailor like mouth unless they had royally fucked up on their job. katsuki bakugou was someone to admire, he never gave a damn about what people had to say about him— he only cared about getting the job done and maybe that’s why most people enjoyed their time under the dynamight agency.

particularly this time, right around noon.

the doors to the floor of the secretary offices fly open, crashing loudly against the walls and drawing the staff from their daily work. this office space is around ten floors up and somehow you’ve made it in record time today. “where is he?” your voice crawls through the entrance of the room, settling over the workers like a thick fog— commanding, menacing and soft all at the same time. newbies cower in their boots, confused at what’s going on and it’s safe to presume those who have been working here for years have yet to give them the run down. “don’t make me ask again.” you add, eyes darkening as you cast your gaze across the room.

an intern approaches you, visibly shaking with fear which makes you loosen your stance and raise an eyebrow toward them. “he-uh... he just went for his lunch break—“ the stutter, gulping under the stare of another highly ranked pro hero. “in his...office— ma’am!” they stumble through their words, hiding behind the ungodly amount of paperwork that's been dumped into their hands. you make a mental note to chew bakugou out on the load his interns have been getting as well as your prior reasons for coming to his agency.

nonetheless you shake your head and drop the frown, a sweet smile quickly replacing the look that could put anyone six feet under if you really tried. with a tap to the side of your head, the visor to your hero costume rises above your eyes— allowing you to give the poor little intern a cheeky wink as thanks. “‘ppreciate it darling, have a good one!” you thank them properly with a ruffle to their hair, resuming your previous stance as you march the rest of the way through the office and kick open the door at the end of the room.

the intern sags, a whimper of relief passing from tired lips while they wipe at the sweat forming on their brow. they’d not even encountered their boss yet and they’d already come face to face with a top pro hero. “w-what’s her deal?”

a chuckle to the left of the poor kid startles them out of their mind; but they relax upon realising it’s just another one of dynamight’s secretaries— haruto, who’d apparently been working at the agency since it started up. “that’s nightsky, her quirk is lullaby, which allows her to control certain people if she hits the right note. she can also put them to sleep, if she really wants to,” the intern now perks up, remembering you from countless interviews on tv. you ranked pretty highly too, managing to the reach the top five this year along with others like shoto and deku. “she owns the hero agency across the street, herself and dynamight have been going at it ever since. it’s like they’re elderly lovers or somethin‘.”

“d-do you think they are? lovers like you say?” the intern asks a little too excitedly, touching at their messy hair from where you’d ruffled it. a crimson blush warms their cheeks, the idea of two pros playing enemies to the public eye but being lovers in secret seemed like something right out of a romance novel. how romantic.

haruto only chuckles at the newbie, standing to ruffle their hair as well before heading over to the coffee stand to fix himself a cup. “beats me,” he mumbles cheerily as he walks away, arms crossed behind his head. “but with the way yn bursts in here at the same time everyday to scold bakugou, and leaves with a huge smile on her face— i wouldn’t put it past them. they probably have a whole life together.” he taps his nose once as if he’s given away too much information, turning away without a word.

the intern hums, seemingly happy with their superior’s answer and easily heads back to work from there.

katsuki bakugou was bored out of his mind.

being a successful pro hero was all he’d ever wanted— being the number two pro hero just came with that. bakugou wanted to get to the top and show everyone he was the best of the best and with him being blessed with a powerful quirk there was no way he couldn’t be where he was today. yet, now that he’d finally achieved his dream all he wanted was a fucking break. the blonde stares down at his microwaveable bowl of home cooked stew, a frown cutting deep into his cheeks. it was his lunch break for crying out loud, but instead of scarfing down the delicious meal before him, the hero was forced to watch it cool as some dumb fuck reporter asked him questions over the phone.

the telephone interview ( or a waste of his fucking time, as katsuki had called it ) , had been set up by his PR team right after he’d taken down a couple low level villains downtown earlier this morning. katsuki had called it nothing but apparently the whole world and their mother had been on his ass, watching as he took the criminals down with ease and raving about how glorious dynamight was during that fight. the reporter drones on about said event, asking the same old questions and it takes everything within the hot headed pro not to blow a casket— he’d been promised a few extra days off from his manager if he could finish the interview without blowing something up and only god knew how much katsuki needed a break from dumb paps and some overly obsessive fans.

‘so, final question, how does it feel to be the number two?’

bakugou grunts, buying himself time to formulate an answer. what he really wants to do is kindly tell the reporter to fuck off and ask more original questions; but with the prize of a longer weekend hanging in the balance he bites his tongue for the sake of freedom. “well i—“

“katsuki bakugou.” your voice cuts through his sentence before he can finish, vermillion eyes land on your hero costume clad form as you burst into his office. a lazy smirk now decorates the hero’s lips, brow quirked with piqued interest. “i have a bone to pick with you, you motherfucker.”

the reporter on the other end falls silent as katsuki watches you, leaning back in his plush leather chair. you look slightly disheveled, costume torn in a few places, scrapes littering your skin as you pant heavily from exertion— chest rising and falling with every breath, it seems ragged and bakugou makes a mental note to remind you to get your ribs checked out later. “you’re late, shitty woman.” the number two sits up a little straighter as you enter the room, leaning up to look at you while you slam your hands down on the smooth marble desk— the force rattling the items he has neatly placed on it.

‘uh-? mister...dynamight-? sir?’

your eyes sweep the room while the pro before you deals with the reporter, mentioning to her that they’ll have to continue their call later. in the meantime, you note that katsuki’s office is meticulously clean, not a single book, folder or pen out of place— it’s high up with a perfect view of the city and the large windows allow golden beams of the sun to light up the room. the sound of a phone being placed back on its hook brings you from your thoughts; annoyance settling deep in your veins as you turn to face bakugou again.

“i had it,” you growl lowly, jumping the gun before he can even register what you’ve said. “i’m a grown woman, katsuki, i can handle a couple of criminals myself, you know.”

the blasting hero does nothing but smirk even wider at the irked tone that litters your voice, standing up as well to tower over you. bakugou still wears his own hero costume, considerably in less damage than yours— not a single tear had formed in his suit, mind the small scratches on his face no doubt from his stupid explosions creating some debris. leaning over the desk between you, bakugou uses a forefinger and thumb to tilt your head up, bringing you even closer than before. “clearly y’didn’t sweetheart, or otherwise that icyhot bastard wouldn’t have needed to back you up ‘fore i got there...” his timbre voice sends sparks of electricity through the air in the room, it’s low and gravelly which is enough to send shivers down your spine but you’re not about to let katsuki bakugou know that he makes you flustered— it’d go straight to his head, the cocky bastard.

nonetheless; you roll your eyes at the mention of your old classmate and fellow pro hero— shoto todoroki. yourself and shoto got along fairly well, even back in high school, so it was normal for you to work together from time to time; you both made a great team and your skill set complimented each other’s well. katsuki was just jealous. he never really got along with todoroki like that. “he didn’t back me up, we were working together,” you snap back at the blonde, shaking yourself from bakugou’s grasp and flicking him right between those alluring vermillion eyes. “something you might not be familiar with, mister number two.” bakugou backs away from you completely ( only wincing slightly ), making you smirk in victory. you’ve struck a nerve. deciding to leave the conversation at that, you turn to make your exit as he collapses back into his seat with a deathly scowl and a quiet ‘tch’. “like i said, i had it, dynamight. next time, don’t jump in uninvited.”

happy that you got the last laugh, you open the door to leave his office but pause when a wave of heat hits your back. you should have known, katsuki bakugou was never one to back down from a challenge and you certainly weren’t an exception. well shit. when you turn around to face the blonde, small explosions spark from his right hand and he has some what of a look of a feral pomeranian, blood red eyes full of rage.

you visibly gulp and katsuki growls out his next words with the upmost venom, designed to hurt and cut at your feelings. “well maybe y’sudda let the actual pros handle shit like this,” bakugou begins, voice rising in volume with every syllable that passes his lips. “we both know you’re no good at short distance attacks with your quirk, shitty woman, you couldn’t have taken those villains down without me.” the blonde finishes with a short ‘tsk’, settling the explosions that spark in his palms. now it’s your turn to be pissed. you could handle katsuki’s jealousy, his petty reasoning for joining you on your patrol and taking the credit but bashing you and your quirk? no way in hell would he get away with that.

“bakugou?”

“what? the fuck y’still here for?”

you roll your shoulders, gracing the blonde with a devilish smile as your eyes light up mischievously. “why are you hitting yourself, bakugou?” you sing, hitting just the right notes that will have him under your spell, the tone in your voice as smooth as chocolate. katsuki’s eyes widen in horror and before he can stop himself, his free hand comes up to slap him across the face. that was your quirk, lullaby. you had the ability to sing your way out of any situation— adjusting the tune of your song to control the actions of certain individuals or groups of people. it was near impossible to resist but the more people you used your quirk on, the weaker your control over them was. that doesn’t mean you weren’t going to use it on bakugou from time to time. the blonde tries to fight it, he really does, but he’s no use up against your ability— losing all control of his own body. he grunts on impact, looking bewildered for a moment as he moves to grab his own wrist to stop any impending blows. “not so cocky now, are we dynamight?”

“h-hey!” he stammers, refusing to accept defeat against you. “shitty woman, no fuckin’ fair. you know i can’t use my quirk against you in here.” he was right, while your quirk was poor against short distance attacks ( meaning you had to result to hand to hand combat ), bakugou couldn’t use his own in enclosed spaces without hurting anyone he didn’t want to. especially you, he would never hurt you intentionally unless you were sparring.

“shoulda thought about that before you decided to taunt me, you know better than to piss off your wife, katsu.” you chide, still smiling just as brightly as you were earlier, before taking a seat on his desk and folding one leg over the other. it was quite amusing to watch your husband of four years fight against himself— everyone knew katsuki had an unbelievable amount of strength even without his quirk so he was definitely beating himself up ( literally and figuratively ).

bakugou looks up at you through gritted teeth while he struggles to keep the wrist you have control of down and you almost feel bad for the guy. “turn it off, dammit!” he curses at you, said hand rising above his free one to tug at his own sun kissed locks.

feigning interest in the objects on your lover's desk, you ignore his pleas for you to release him from the holds of your quirk and hum “apologise.”

“f-fuck... fuck y-you.”

you sigh knowingly, picking up a hand crafted paperweight, covered in glitter and sequin stars,  inspecting it carefully. bakugou could hardly ever say the word ‘sorry’, it was just in his nature and he’d been that way since you were young. part of you knows it’s because of how he was treated as a child where people praised him for his quirk. that meant he became prideful yes, thought highly of himself too and struggled to admit when others were right...but he had his own way of apologising— through actions instead of words.

like when you first moved in together and he had broken your favourite mug, instead of saying he was sorry, he spent all night super glueing it back together for you to use in the morning. to him, actions were louder than words but you right now; you were being mean and just wanted to hear him say it.

“fuck fuck, fine. alright. ‘m sorry.” bakugou lets out a strained growl as the hand you control gives a particularly hard yank to his hair. “i’m sorry for lying about your quirk. it’s not shitty…’n ‘m sorry for... barging in on your patrol. again.” you grin, satisfied with his answer and grab the hand he keeps down with his wrist. you press a simple kiss to the skin, making your husband blush as you release your hold over the limb. katsuki shyly yanks it from your grip, rubbing over the area that you’d kissed, shooting his gaze to the side in the process. “jesus shitty woman, if i don’t die from being a hero or of old fucking age, i know for a fact you’ll be the one to kill me first.” he mutters harshly under his breath, but you know he’s only kidding from the way his hands now fall to your thighs and his fingers rub small circles into the exposed skin.

“pro hero nightsky murders number two pro hero dynamight in cold blood!” you joke as if you’re reading a headline in a news article, katsuki only glares up at you— making no effort to curse you out because of your shitty joke, which causes you to frown while leaning  forward to brush some of his hair away from his face. “you know i’m only kidding right? is something wrong? did i come at a bad time?”

it’s only now that you notice the exhausted expression that paints your lover’s face. he’s always up to playing this game with you, at the same time every day— you come to bother him about some trivial matter, tease him a bit and leave with a kiss. but today, you can tell he’s trying to hide something from you. something that bothers him.

bakugou shakes his head, leaning into your touch as you play with his hair— a habit he’d picked up from even before you started dating back in high school, although he’d never admit that to you if you’d asked. “nothin’, just this stupid fuckin’ interview the PR team want me to do about the fight today. the one i took from you,” your husband smirks slightly at the thought and you roll your eyes for what seems like the nine hundredth time that afternoon. “didn’t get to finish my fuckin’ lunch but they promised me a couple days off if i got the interview done.”

“better the number two than me, eh? but don’t worry, i’ll order us some take out tonight,” your suggest, voice coming out as soft and mingling with your slight giggle— a quiet melody to katsuki’s ears. your only reply from him is a grunt, so you stop your fingers in his hair and watch as he scowls up at you. you quickly press a kiss to the explosive hero’s lips, pulling away to reveal his blushing face. you smile, knowing that you’re the only one who can make him flush red like that. “there’s something else bothering you, isn’t there?”

if there’s one thing katsuki bakugou hates, it’s how you read him like an open book. one look at him and it’s like you know exactly how he’s feeling. he can never hide anything from you— sometimes that both pisses him off and reminds him of how much he is loved by you. he hesitates with his words at first but decides to confide in you anyway, knowing that you’ll get it out of him in one way or another. “‘m worried about you, dumbass.” he mumbles, nudging your hand with his head as if to ask you to continue your earlier actions. “i know you had it, yer fuckin’ powerful but you looked so tired in that fight today ‘n i thought something bad was gonna happen to you, y’fuckin’ shitty woman.”

he toys with the tears in your costume now, smoothing over scars from your bumps and scratches as a result of combat. “oh lovebug,” you mumble, cupping his cheeks to make him look up at you. “you know i can handle my own, they just took a lot out of me today. i promise i’ll—“

“that’s not it, fuck,” katsuki cuts you off, brows furrowing deeply as he grabs your wrists— pulling your from his desk and into his lap. he holds you close, burying his nose into your neck as if you’re going to disappear. you sit still, a little shocked by his actions and his quick change of mood, but wrap your arms around him anyway and slowly fall silent. “it's just that...we’re both pros now and at the top of our ranks ‘n we both have a lot to lose.” you instinctively cling tighter to katsuki, mind flickering to the homemade paperweight you’d spotted on his desk earlier... causing your heart clench.

your daughter had made that for him during her time at preschool for fathers day; something your husband cherished with his whole heart, even if the thing was still sticky with glue when he’d gotten it.

katsuki loved taiga more than anything in the world and if something had happened to her because of your line of work, you don’t know what either of you would do. “what if something were to happen to you? or to me? or shit...both of us? who would look after taiga? you know what happens to kids who end up in the fucking system.” bakugou pauses, the same tired expression from earlier now sitting heavily on his face. “i just want you to be careful, stop pushing yourself so much, y’fuckin’ dumbasss. we have a family take care of. it’s not just you and i anymore.”

you nod, grasping onto your lover’s clothes tightly. the air is flooded with a comfortable silence, the pair of you holding one another right the way through it. you treasure moments like this, where the world stops and katsuki shows you another, more vulnerable side to him.

he would never admit or show this to anyone; but he cares , more than he lets on... especially for you and especially for your daughter. he was attentive, paid attention to you and your weaknesses and helped you overcome them. it was something you couldn’t stop loving about him. “i promise to be more careful, for you and for taiga,” you say quietly after he’s done scolding you, brushing your lips against the side of his head in a soft peck. “that must’ve been why jumped in earlier, you were worried about me?”

“somethin’ like that, you crazy woman,,” bakugou whispers, there’s a tinge of fondness to his ruby eyes as you pull away to look at him, his hands settling on your hips while he moves up to press a soft kiss to your awaiting lips. “didn’t want you getting yourself killed.”

you stay with katsuki in the office for a little longer than usual, laying on his chest as he prattles away about everything and anything even though he should be working. you make sure he eats his lunch, despite how cold it is and promise him a boat load of take out when he comes home later— your sweet cuddling session only being cut short by a call from your assistant to tell you that your daughter is ready to be picked up from school. “better finish that interview katsu, taiga’ll be happy to know her daddy’s getting some time off to spend with her soon,” you remind him as you gather yourself together, your husband pouting ( he swears on his life he wasn’t ) from the loss of your warmth in his lap. “she has a lot to tell you.”

the blonde quirks a brow, watching you as you head for the door. “yeah? like what?” a hand comes up to cover your mouth as you giggle at his curious face. sometimes, when you look at katsuki, you could see how much your daughter resembles him, right down to his mannerisms. she had somehow inherited the shape of your nose and the brightness of your smile ( the only reason barely anyone realised bakugou had a kid, he never fucking smiled. ) but the bakugou genes were incredibly strong so there was no way she’d miss out on those crimson eyes and uncontrollable, untameable messy blonde hair.

she even acted like him. a very brazen little girl who knew what she wanted and how to get it, so she had her daddy wrapped around her stubby little fingers.

you grin, eyes sparkling with the same mischief as before. “oh y’know, just her little crush on midoriya’s boy.”

“yer fuckin’ kiddin’ me.”

“i would never joke about such a thing,  just make sure you’re home in time for dinner, number two!” you squeal, dashing out of the office before your husband has time to demand more answers from you. slamming the door shut, you chuckle at the melody of curses that leave your husbands mouth before heading off to pick up your daughter.

on your way, you admit to yourself , that maybe you didn’t have this fight in the bag. but what you did have; was a loving husband, a beautiful daughter and the best life you could have ever imagined.

extended ending:

“so, taiga... daddy hears you have a little... crush on someone.”

you’re in the kitchen, washing the dishes from tonight’s dinner as bakugou wipes tentatively at your little girl’s messy face— she was a poor eater but it’s something you didn’t mind, not when your husband was so soft with cleaning her up. you can see them from where you stand, watching katsuki knowingly.

taiga looks up from the colouring you’d set out for her when she finished up her meal, crimson eyes shining brightly as she fixes her gaze on her father. “mhm mhm!! he’s mister deku’s son! and i’m gonna marry him!”

“no yer not.” bakugou answers simply, looking close to popping a vein.

“why not?”

your husband scoffs, throwing away the tissue he’d used to clean his little girl up before joining her in her colouring. “‘cause daddy says so ‘n boys are gross, especially ones who’s dad’s look like broccoli.” the older ash blonde seems satisfied with his answer, grinning to himself as you dry the dishes with an amused smile.

but taiga isn’t finished, swapping her green crayon for a red one to finish up her drawing. “but you’re a boy...and mommy still married you!”

bakugou pauses, lost for words as taiga continues to colour— humming the theme song from a commercial for some of deku’s merch. you can tell it’s taking everything katsuki’s got not to combust right there on the spot, but he can’t stay mad at taiga for too long, not when she’s describing her wedding and how her daddy is going to walk her down the isle.

setting the dishes to dry and towelling your hands; you smile to yourself as you admire your family. some would say you had it all, and looking at the pair of bakugou’s now, who were you to deny the truth.

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Their Alright... For A Boomer

Masterlist

Summary: Being a girl with a larger chest always got you attention, maybe having your nipples pierced to try and fell more confident handt been the best idea, but how can you regret it when your latest client; the sexy Mr Cavill  was ogling them but could this end up being more then just that one time you were eyed by a hot celebrity?

Warnings: Suggestive, No Smut, Fluffy? Cute and funny, Swearing

A/N: this was a request from @fanficlover91​ i hope you like this hun, i tried to keep it hot but sweet and respectful? Which was a struggle but i hope i got the vibe you wanted. And as always i hope you all enjoy.

Taglist: In Reblogs.

You blushed as you looked down the lense at your model. He smirked sweeping his eyes over you non to subtly. You could feel the blues penetrating you with a hot stare. The was the distinctive fast clicks on you camera snapping a burst of shots managing to capture his smirking face and eyes sweeping over your form appreciatively.

You stood tall and smiled pulling away double checking the shoots. You bit your lip. Fucking hell this was both the best and worst job you had. Henry Cavill was the most enticing male you'd ever had the pleasure to photograph. He didn't even have a good side, every side was good! There wasn't an unflattering angle on the man!

"And that's a wrap? I think we have everything we need Mr Cavill" you said professionally making to move away from him and begin to swap sd cards and label them before packing away. Henry gawfed and rose quickly panicked almost.

"I- err no! Wait I was... Well hoping that I could have some more done?" he said chaseing you across the small studio you could hear his agent Leah scoff from the side lines. You frowned and looked to her nervously. The woman had been watching and tutting, scoffing and clicking her tongue through the whole session. It actually made you nervous, wasn't she pleased with the shoot? You were worried, being freelance this was your first time doing a celebrity shoot for a magazine but the usual photographer was in hospital having a stroke a few days prior and you were the only free photographer in the agency that was close enough to take the job. Sure you wasn't well known but still it was a little disheartening to have someone seemingly unimpressed with your work.

But it was when you eyed her you saw she wasn't giving you the evil eye. Her frown was directed at henry, a scolding look you'd give a misbehaving child. You frowned a little puzzled, but shook it off in favour of looking to Henry. Your actual client.

"More? I... I? Thought the piece only needed a few to choose from? They were very ah... How do I put it? Thorough? With the brief" you explained hoping Leah would step in and clarify just what was going on. Because you didn't have a clue.

"I yes but- I'd love to top up my portfolio? You know? I err yeah have a few changes going on and... I mean a few greys and such... Just want to update it a tad... I'll pay obviously- I'd pay anything for more time please?" he pleaded watching you closely eyes wide and bright full of hope.

"I... Err" you shifted swapping your camera from one hand to the other and craned your head around the man trying to spy his agent. But you had no hope of peeking around this gargantuan man. Just like with the camera he demanded your full attention.

"And for Instagram and stuff! There's only so much I can do in a selfie... I'd even recommend you- advertise your work!" he quickly added sounding desperate now. It would help you out if you did have a few shots of him for in your own catalogue. It shouldn't matter but having a celeb under your belt was actually a good thing. It meant you'd acted professionally and been good to work with.

"I suppose so, I do have a few extra sd's here... Tell you what I'll do another shoot for you as long as I can pick a few to put in my portfolio? Then we both update our files?" you nodded to him speaking slowly. He grinned and relaxed nodding quickly pleased with himself for wrangling more shots. You'd never know he was just glad to has more time with you.

"Oh yes absolutly! That's fine here should we get started now or?" he asked biting his lip trying not to stare at you for too long. But it was hard you were fucking stunning!

"Oh yeah sure iv got time, let me just sort these out and set up, need to switch, you've tired my poor camera" you said with a grin trying to ignore the man as he beamed at you looking excited nodding enthusiastically. You backed up and spun around trying not to blush as you felt henry gazing openly at you.

"Right well if the magazine ones are done I will be off then" Leah called packing up her bag with a small chuckle to herself. You froze and spun quickly seeing her seemingly abandoning you with Henry.

"Wha- oh you don't have to you can stay-" you tried to reason unsure why, I mean who wouldn't want to be alone with this huge glorious man? Maybe you just didn't trust yourself with him? He had been 'making love' to the camera all afternoon. Smouldering bedroom eyes that was making it hard to focus. You had been getting hot under the collar all day as you kidded yourself he was eyeing you, not the camera or would be readers.

It didn't help that you had caught him oogling your breasts earlier. But you wasn't mad, it was your own fault. It was the Hight of summer and you had on a string vest with a thin bra, that you could clearly see your nipple bars through. You didn't feel uncomfortable or anything, you didn't blame Henry for looking. You cant exactly ignore your tits.. The were pretty large for your frame. You were curvy but they were as one ex put it 'exceptional'. And besides he had looked not touched and he hadn't been a creep about it. In fact he had done a double take and then blushed when he realised he had been caught looking. But as you said you get that with big boobs, you'd had it your entire life, it was actually one of the reasons you'd got them pierced. It helped with your confidence and you convince yourself that they were looking at the bars. Not you per say.  

"Okay aunt Leah I will see you in a few days." henry interrupted you quickly smiling practically ushering the woman out the door. He moved fast ever picking the womans phone and juice bottle to help her leave quicker.

"Yes, behave Henry I'll see you soon" she said with a giggle before calling a thank you and goodbye over her shoulder at you. You swallowed nervously and gave a quick bye as the door clicked behind her and you were left alone with Henry. The man groaned stretching as he spun around a huge grin on his face, making your knees tremble a little. Fuck.

Henry came over and watched you closely as you scribbled the name and date along with the publication name on the sd case label. You tried not to notice as he hovered biting his lip then took off the blazer and threw it on the table beside you drawing your attention as he did grunting a little. The v neck letting the smallest amount of soft looking chest fuzz that had been teasing you all day. He grinned slyly as he caught you eyeing him and crossed his arms over his chest flexing for your benefit. You gasped and quickly looked back to the camera in your hands inserting a new scarf into the new fully charges camera.

"Soo how do you like this kind of work?" henry said casually trying not to seem like a creeper but god damnit he couldn't stop eyeing you. If he had known how sexy you'd be he would have demanded to be doing a bloody swim wear shoot!

"You mean people?" you stuttered trying not to look him in the eye. Not that it helped because the rest of him was just as fucking sexy! You quivered all over desperately trying to remember how to breath, yet didn't want to draw in too deep a breath and make your tits bounce for him and look like a slut. There was a very fine line for a big busted girl, to much wobble will make you look like your trying to get attention.

"I mean celebrities, magazines we were told you mainly do private shoots for events and model portfolios" he offered leaning forward as he leant back on the desk next to you hooking one ankle behind the other. The way he stood placed his crotch in your line of sight as you looked down and worked on setting up the camera. You flushed. Oh god he looked er... Bigger then you'd thought earlier, not that you were looking but... Well you couldn't help notice the package! The man was a fucking serial man spreader! And that thing was huge! With the muscles he was packing he could probably bench press you with his crotch!

"Oh well its different... And you sir popped my celebrity cherry" you froze on the spot as you said that, it had meant to be an ice breaker, a joke but instead had sounded fucking creepy!. You snapped up to him making to apologize as your face flamed mortified but he had thrown his head back laughing. The deep rumble sent chilled down your spine.

"Well I'm honoured to have popped your cherry~" he teased placing a hand over his heart with a cheeky grin making you blush and nod then turned to him with the new camera all set up.

"Soo where do we start?" you said moving on quickly looking up at him trying to forget the whole cherry comment.

"Where ever you want me, i will let you take the reigns command me as you will" he chuckled standing tall once more and looked about the room casually to the various small set ups, different furniture, seats sofas and mini tables dotting the space.

"I... Okay then you said Instagram? How about we start with some facials-FACE SHOTS! Face. Shots. Not facials fuck. Shit" you quickly tried repairing the damage whist cursing yourself wanting nothing more then to be swallowed up by the floor.

"No, no love facials sounded perfect~" he said winking before gliding past you making you stutter and almost choke on your breath. Oh good lord this was a bad idea. You followed as he sat down on a sturdy sofa and looked head on at you and bit his lip once again watching you with a sultry look.

And that was the beginning. You followed him about taking various snaps whislt having small talk. He seemed to be very flirtatious as he spoke, dropping lines and compliments as he made eyes at you. You flushed each time clamming up at his suggestive comments. And rightly or wrongly you flirted back trying to seem cool and suave. But inside you were fangirling unable to belive you were here with this incredibly gorgeous man teasing one another. On a few occasions he even growled as you scampered about him, crouching and taking shots from blow getting some delicious angles that dampened your knickers. Then in between all this he managed to get little tied bits. You'd told him you were on agency freelance and were trying to get into the social media platform as it seemed easier in this day and age rather then to be in fashion photography. You wanted to be commercial not private but no one would really take a chance anymore.

Then you suggested a few shots on the sofa laying back trying to think of something different for your portfolio, maybe a body length shot. He was quick to agree and dived onto the sofa saying he had an idea you swallowed nodding not fully trusting the look in his eyes. But that was forgotten as he relaxed stretching out over the sofa legs crossed and resting on the arm of his hands behind his head and a devilish smirk looking down the lenght of his body. You knelt at his feet trying to get a flattering image of him looking down but cursed as the camera wasn't playing ball. The lense was focusing, this was why you used the other one first, the camera had a few issues and was temperamental.

"What's wrong?" he asked frowning a little at you as you growled pulling the camera away fro your face and began trying to manually focus the lense.

"Oh its.. It wont focus.. It does this sometime, really need to throw it out but.. She was my first I'm sentimental" you said feeling silly as you battled with the camera.

"We all are with our firsts... How about you come closer instead, I really want to see this shot, never done one at this angle.. Out of all my shoots your the first to suggest this~" you froze and looked to him but he just smiled impishly at you. Slowly you rounded the sofa and leant over him positioning the camera at his stomach as he looked right into the lense giving you a definite bedroom eyes, half lidded and burning. Both dreamy and amazingly sexy. It was as if he could see you beyond the lense, as if it wasn't even there!

"You can come closer love, I wont bite, not if you don't want me to~" his voice was low and teasing, luring you in like a siren. You trembled and moved along him but he tutted and moved a hand to your hip and pressed, coaxing you onto the sofa and sat you on him making you straddle him. You gasped squeazing your camera tighter as he moved you easily, warm palms holding you both delicatly and firmly. You could see in his eyes he was weary unsure if he had gone to far but you squeezed him between your thighs and relaxed making him grin up at you getting the message you didn't mind at all. You aimed the lense at him once more and got the shots you wanted.

"Perfect! Mr Cavill" you said actually a little sad that this session was over. It had been nice playing this little cat and mouse game with him. But all good things come to an end.

"Ah now i have a policy love, when a womans on top they can call me henry, among other things~" he said smoothly laughing as you chuckled nervously fiddling with the camera in your hands and shifted over him a little.

"I will try to remember that for next time boomer~" you teased managing to overcome your nerves as you pulled away the camera with a giggle winking at him as he stuttered. For a second you thought you'd gone too far but a quirk to his lips made you relax once more.

"That hurt, that was hurtful" he teased pouting not releasing you from his lap, instead holding you tighter, fingers digging into your sides making you gasp and bit your lip as he pulled you to his crotch and ground into you teasingly.

"I'm so sorry~" you uttered breathless trying to keep yourself together. But this man was something else, like a drug- the devil all fanged smiles and smooth words. God you were fucked, you knew this man could do anything to you and youd thank him for it~

"I doubt that" he cooed and slid his hand higher growing more and more confident. The last few hours of casual flirting had built up his appitite. There was no misconceptions, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

"Oh yeah?" you said coyly tipping your head to him playing along willing for this to happen, whether it be a one of fuck or something longer. You didnt have any complaints~ this was your body and youd enjoy it with who ever you wanted to!

"Yeah prove it!" he hissed and moved quickly sitting up and swinging around planting his feet on the floor. You yelped as he moved surprizingly fast and managed to keep you in his lap now face to face with you eyes roaming your face settling on your lips.

"And how should i do that" you teased tilting your head skimming your lips with his as you spoke. He groaned and held you tighter making you whine breathlessly willing this to happen. You wanted him and you wont deny yourself the chance.

"Make and old mans day" he said plainly and leant back resting on the back of the sofa, you watched him closely and brought your hands to his shoulders prodding at the neck of the t shirt and drew your fingers down slowly feeling him shiver at the light skimming fingertips.

"Oh really Boomer? And how would i make and old mans day?" you teased once more making him grunt but he quickly caught himself as your fingers smoothed over the teasing curls that peeked over his top. You scratched over them lightly with your nails making him draw a needy breath and chuckled at him. He was sexy and cute~

"By accepting a job offer?" he said before smileing smugly as you paused and frowned. Had you missed something? Was he after a freebee?

"Job offer? Really another shoot?" you snorted suddenly not feeling sexy, more like he was trying to butter you up for some fuck for parts shoots or something. He sighed and began speaking before you could get yourself all twisted. But then again you could have taken his offer wrong.

"Manage my social media. I have many companies and brands reach out to me for endorsements. They want me caught wearing their brands. But I'm to busy most of the time I cant make it to the locations they want. It actually doesn't seem worth it most of the time, with cost of flights and time lost travelling to and from studios itd be easier if I had my own personal photographer that travelled with me its be easy, slip on the clothes and what not take a few snaps and then you touch them up and post them on my social media." he explained watching as it sunk in that he wasnt trying to pull a fast one. Well he was but not trying to fuck you over... Just fuck you... And keep you because you were fantastic and he wants nothing more then to have you around hime as much as possible. In the single dat he had spent working with you, you had enchanted him, not only were you sexy but you were good at your job and easy to work with but also funny and cute and he needed to get to know you.

"Of course its a very big venture and we'd have to have a few dinner and lunch dates to work out all the nitty gritty" he added after a few beats of silence trying to make it clear he was interested... Very interested~ it worked as you fluched and a playfull look donned your face your fingers began stoking his chest hair once more. He relaxed shuddering under the nails as they teased his curls.

"Is this a big ploy to get a date Boomer?" you purred his new nick name making him groan when you squeezed him between your thick thighs once more grinding on him and the considerable bulge below you that twitched.

"No... Maybe is it working?" he said quickly hissing at you shifted in his lap once more, his hands snapping to your hips trying to still you before he came undone in his boxers. You were a very dangerous woman and something told him you knew.

"Well it sounds like an offer I'd be very, very interested in taking further~" you clarified giggling when he swallowed dryly and eyed you surprized that his plan had seemed  to work.

"Good to hear~ so got anything planned after this?" he asked feeling a wave of confidence at the prospect of snagging a date with you. He hadn't meant to sound so eager but... He was eager and that was that.

"Yes" you said with a straight face and got up off of him spinning around heading to the table with your camera bags. You gave him a glance and giggled seeing him still sitting there gobsmacked legs wide open and his crotch that was now definitely bigger then it had been earlier.

"O-oh" he stuttered seemingly unsure how to proceed. You giggled as he fumbled over his words. Then decided to grant him some mercy and began speaking whilst popping out the sd card from the camera labeling it like the previous one.

"You see I had a very cheeky client today who asked for a shoot last mineut. But I wasn't to bothered he was very very sexy even if he was a boomer, but get this out of nowhere gave me a job offer? And we're having dinner- he promised pizza~" you giggled glancing at Henry as he slumped in the seat realising halfway through that you were talking about him. He smoothed his hands over his face and jumped up coming over to you shaking his head.

"You know I'm not actually a boomer?" he quipped folding his arms. You rolled your eyes at him as you packed your stuff away making sure to recheck everything.

"Have you seen your selfies? Your a boomer, boomer" you teased making him scoff but laugh at the name that has now stuck.

"Wait you've seen my selfies? What do you think?" he asked wanting feedback on the silly shots he took. You paused halfway through zipping up your bag and turned facing him fully giving him a thoughtful look then shrugged

"Their alright... For a boomer" you giggled when he preened for a second then his face dropped into a pout when you finished the comment.

"I repeat...That was hurtful" he said covering his heart with a kicked puppy look making you laugh and hoist your bags over your shoulder and make for the door with him hot on your heels.

"Its fine boomer a second date will make up for it I'm sure~" you sniggered at him playfully looking back at him as he followed you out of the door.

"A date for each time you call me boomer? Deal" he quipped walking along side you offering you his arm like a true gentleman unlike the teasing horny little shit he had been all day. Not that you minded either. Gentleman on the streets, freak in the sheets and all that jazz.

"God we may aswell marry now then boomer" he laughed nodding in agreement the banter from the day still in play as you both left the building.

"Seems so, I mean were at ten that's what the kids consider boyfriend girlfreind territory" he anounced with a sigh playing on the 'boomer' joke making you giggle and roll your eyes as he mentioned the tally. Then you frowned and quickly counted your 'boomers' and opened your mouth you correct him, arguing that ten was incorrect.

"I think its nine boomer- ah see what you did their sneaky boomer!" you cried pushing him playfully at his little trick. He roared with laughter and quickly tangled his fingers with yours dragging you back alongside him guiding you down the street towards a place he knew served pizza, he didn't remember but apparantly he promised pizza...

[bts-hyperfixation]

Soulmates

JJK X Reader soulmate AU

Warnings: Minor character death(car crash, only mentioned nothing graphic), Drinking

I don’t know if this is what you (the requester) were going for? this is somehow where I ended up

Everyone in this world has a soulmate. Someone that is meant to complete them and make them feel whole.

Your other half can be identified by the matching birthmark hidden somewhere on their body. There are also a lot of people whose marks are so close to matching that it almost feels like the real thing… almost. Sadly, many don’t ever get to experience the love of their true soulmate, so they settle for the closest they can get.

Jungkook was convinced he was one of the lucky few. Looking at her made his heart feel like it was going to burst. Every time he saw her the world got brighter, the birds started singing a little louder, and his stress nearly melted away entirely … nearly. But at 17 no one is going to pay attention to nearly.

Their birthmark’s matched so closely, each sporting a small puzzle piece on opposite wrists. You wouldn’t even bat an eyelid at the loved-up pair as they walked together hand in hand. And he loved her so completely, and her him, that they never thought to question it. Madly in love until the day she died.

Jungkook spent weeks almost comatose when the news of her car crash reached him. Couldn’t move, eat, sleep. To lose your soulmate so young was said to be a fate worse than never finding them at all. Even after coming through the other side people could tell he wasn’t the same carefree young boy he had been, most likely never would be again. His eyes’ looked far older than his years now, his soft features much more angular.

Three months after her death he resolve to never fall in love again, happy in the knowledge that he got to know her even for such a short amount of time.

….

You met Jungkook at a party. Someone from Uni decided that 24 was the right age for a big birthday bash. They hired out an entire club and set up a series of activities for people to enjoy. A mechanical ball on the main floor, a ball pit to the side, a BBQ in the smoking area, and a bouncy castle in the downstairs 90’s themed area. It really was an amazing event. You however spent most of your time watching the quiet Korean boy in the corner, every time his eyes met yours you felt compelled to move to him, talk to him, dance with him, anything that would get his attention on you. At the time you put it down to the alcohol. It took you exactly 3 and a half drinks to pick up the courage and interrupt his current conversation.

He was very sweet, really sweet considering he clearly didn’t want to be talking to you. It was evident in the way his eyes shifted and the nervous playing with his sleeves, still you persevered. Something about him wouldn’t let you give up, not yet at least. Your saving grace came when your favourite band came blaring over the speakers. “PRETTYMUCH” aren’t an underrated band per say but it’s difficult to find someone who knows them in your circle, so when Jungkook’s face lit up at the same time as yours you knew you had your in. So with the Phases remix blaring through the club you took your opportunity.

“I love this song!” You took his hand and pulled him on to the dance floor before you really realised that’s what you are doing. To start with he was frozen, a little shocked by your boldness, but as you gave it your all he joined in, loosening up for the first time that entire night. After that it was a lot easier to talk to him, you actually went into the smoking area to talk more about shared music interests.

After you went to get a drink you got caught up with some others and he came to find you. It felt like an electric shock when he’d grabbed your hand to get your attention, but there were a lot of balloons around so that would explain the residual electricity. By the time the party was over, and the club was closing, you didn’t want to leave him, not just now but ever. You found yourselves wandering around aimlessly, talking about nothing until the sun came up. Looking back it was then you decided Jungkook was it for you. You had never really believed in the soulmate tradition until you met him.

Weeks go by of you texting back and forth. You found out the reason he was so into music was because he was a musician himself, he even promised to perform for you sometime. A lot of promises were made in those messages.

‘There’s this amazing Restaurant in the city’ you claimed promising to take him with you next time.

‘I really want to see this movie’ he said promising to pay for tickets when it came out.

‘We should go see this band together’ The number one promise between the two of you, quickly racking up a lot of different acts to see together.

So when one of those bands turned up on the roster for the local you’d bought tickets immediately sending him the confirmation. Your stomach had fluttered thinking about seeing him in person again. And so you counted down the days as they passed. Picked and repicked your outfit. Talked yourself in and out of going. Eventually the day arrived. The doorbell signalling his arrival was deafening, ringing out through your small studio apartment. You took a few deep breaths before opening the door.

He was flawless, your tipsy memory hadn’t done him justice. A broad chest draped in a white long sleeve tee, ripped skinnies straining against his thighs, his hair swept into a James Dean quiff. You might’ve laughed at the way your outfits had accidently matched (a black crop with white skinnies) had you been capable of making a noise.

“Ready to go?” He asked nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. You’d nodded, blushing when you realised you had been staring.

It was a short bus ride into the town centre. Spent in relatively comfortable silence arms brushing against one another in the limited space on the crowded vehicle. The club was packed wall to wall when you got inside, no hope of getting to the front of the crowd, or so you’d thought. Jungkook grabbed your hand winked at you and began heading in the opposite direction of the stage. He led you up some back stairs and on to a balcony you hadn’t ever noticed before.

“I’ve played here before, almost no one knows this is here, but it will give us the perfect view.” He dropped your hand in favour of leaning over the railing. You couldn’t help but feel cold at the loss. The performance was great, you found yourselves screaming lyrics back and forth at one another. Some people had cottoned on to your little hiding spot and soon it became as packed as the rest of the club. Whether he was trying to protect you from the others or he was pushed there you will never know, but Jungkook ended up caging you to the railing, head resting on your shoulder.

After the show you’d decided it was time to ask him how he felt. The club was still busy, but the two of you had been in a quiet corner on your own nursing drinks and chatting aimlessly.

“Do you believe in soulmates?” You asked, broaching the topic carefully. You watched closely for his reaction, but he gave nothing away. Instead he just shrugged.

“I did once.” It was too blunt, you knew you should’ve stopped but you couldn’t, now you’d decided to tell him it was like verbal diarrhoea.

“I didn’t think I did, I mean I’ve never seen any ‘matching birthmarks’ and every couple I know is perfectly happy… but then I met you and I keep thinking about it, and you, and how I feel about you.” You watched as his face goes from pensive to a deer caught in the headlights.

“I… I have to leave now.” He got up and ran into the crowd before you even had a chance to reach for him. He dipped through a back entrance of the club and into the night before you could even push through the first layer of people.

The ride home had seemed a lot longer. Holding back tears had proved extremely difficult. Of all the reactions he could’ve given you that might’ve been the worst one. Somehow you found yourself thinking even him laughing in your face might’ve been better. You left the lights in your studio switched off that night. Made a beeline for your bed and passed out face down.

It would’ve felt like a bad dream when you woke up… if it hadn’t been for the crusty mascara tracking down your cheeks. You’d picked up your phone from where it lay abandoned next to you. Battery on 12%. You’d decided then it’d be best to run damage control, at least save the friendship.

Y/N: I’m sorry about last night…

You hadn’t expected his reply to be quick, so it’d surprised you when the typing bubbles appeared immediately; and furthered your sadness when they disappeared moments later without a message.

For days you spiralled. Going over the moment again and again in your head. Each replay turning the memory into something worse than the original.

Eventually you plucked yourself out of bed, deciding to face the problem head on and talk to the friend that invited you both to their birthday in the first place.

She met you at a café downtown during her lunch break. It was obvious by your red rimed eyes and sniffling nose that you had been crying but she was nice enough to ignore it for the most part. You caught up on her life for a little while until you physically couldn’t hold back anymore.

You told her exactly what had happened between you and JK, watching as her expression got both more understanding and pitying as you got closer to the end. Whatever you thought she was going to tell you was no where close to the story you got. You sat mouth wide open as she told you about the accident, and the way it affected Jungkook. It made you want to cry all over again. You didn’t know what to say once she had finished, stewing in your own thoughts for a while. The main thought that kept coming to the front of your mind was one that made you feel so evil. But you had to get it out

“What if she wasn’t really his soulmate. What if he was never meant for her” Its barely above a whisper but your friend heard it.

“He truly believes that she was” She replied squinting at you. Her break ended shortly after that leaving you alone with your thoughts.

…

It’s almost a month later when you see Jungkook again. Hadn’t heard a single thing from him since the concert but at least you knew why.

This time it was someone pool party. You honestly hadn’t been expecting to see him there. Didn’t even know you had mutual friends past that one girl. You didn’t think twice about your birthmark when you stripped down to your two piece. Why would you? Everyone has one. You were lay out on a sun-lounger with a drink when you spotted him. Tucked away in a corner once again, the only difference this time was his attention was already on you. He looked as good as ever, hair damp and slicked back, Long-sleeved neoprene shit covering his torso but trunks showing off his amazing thighs. You’d forced yourself to look away form him but could still feel the intensity of his gaze on you.

Eventually you couldn’t take it anymore, too hot under the sun and his stare you decided to change out of your swimsuit into a sundress for the evening. Heading inside you found your way into someone’s bedroom to get changed. Perhaps you should’ve checked to see if the door the locked though, because just as you had wiggled out of the bikini top Jungkook burst into the room.

“Ah shit… Sorry… I um.” His hand had flown in front of his eyes as he’d slammed the door shut behind him and you’d immediately reached for the flimsy dress pulling it over you torso so he could reopen his eyes.

“What in the actual fuck Jungkook?” you whisper screamed not wanting to draw attention to the two of you hidden away.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I didn’t think… I just needed to see…”

“See what?! My boobs? I think you managed that one perv. You haven’t spoken to me in weeks and now all of a sudden you can’t wait long enough to knock.” You came across a lot meaner than you had meant, you just hadn’t been prepared for him to want to speak to you again.

“No I’m sorry I’ll go, this was a bad idea, I was probably seeing things anyway.” He mumbled looking sheepishly at the floor/

“No wait it’s okay, I really want to apologise don’t leave.” You took a deep breath and waited for his eyes to meet yours properly. When they did you could see the shock behind them.

“Why do you need to apologise? I’m the one that ran off, I never even told you why and I fucked up and I’m sorry I just…” You reached for him then, wanting nothing more than to comfort him and then realised it wasn’t your place, arm dropping heavily back to your side. “I felt so guilty with you, not because of you, because of me.” You nodded in understanding.

“I found about your soulmate after I confessed to you. I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I never would’ve brought it up if I had known you had already found yours.” You’d broken eye contact with him then unable to watch the sadness in his eyes and not be able to do anything about it.

“That’s why I felt so guilty though because the way I feel about you is so similar to the way I felt about her, how I still feel about her deep down. I was so confused because you’re only supposed to get one soulmate, and if I could feel the same way about you in such a short time… it just feels like I’m betraying her by loving you.” He stepped forward reaching for your chin and forced you to meet his gaze. “The today when I saw your birthmark on your thigh I could’ve cried.” He uses his free hand to unzip the shirt he’d been wearing. He pulled his left arm from the sleeve exposing his birthmark to you. A puzzle piece to fit perfectly into your own.

You’d gasped at the revelation you were right. He was meant to be yours. And yet it didn’t feel right. The anguish on his face was clear, the internal fight he had obviously been having with himself ever since the concert.

“Letting yourself love me now doesn’t mean you loved her any less” you whispered, allowing yourself to move even closer to him, wrapping him in your arms. He’d nuzzled into your neck allowing tears to stream down his cheeks and onto your shoulder. You’d felt every bit of stress leave his body as he cried. Emotions he hadn’t even know he had been holding onto, finally letting himself really breath since he had lost her all those years ago.

You’d lost track of the time, just stood with him, holding him until the final few sniffles came. His cheeks had been puffy by and red when he pulled away, wiping his face on the sleeve still on his right arm.

“Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine” You’d asked carefully, not willing to let him go home alone after feeling like that. He’d nodded weakly, sliding his arm back into the shirt before taking your hand in his. You’d headed for the door only to be brought back by the hand he had on yours. He’d pulled you so close you could see the flecks of gold in his irises, watched your reaction before leaning in and kissing you. It was salty with left over tears, but you wouldn’t change you first kiss for the world. Everything felt like it clicked into place in that moment, the world tilted on its axis. The exchange was short lived, a chaste peck followed by a few smaller pecks before he let you lead him all the way home.

Masterlist

[meichenxi]

2021: what happened??

Because this year was shit for everyone, I'd like to focus on what I did achieve. Here, in no particular order, are some of the things that I did during 2021:

- Graduated from my bachelors in linguistics with a first

- Completed my dissertation on constructed languages, one of the first academic papers that has ever been published on conlangs, and a piece of original research working with over 25 conlangers that I'm very proud of

- Read substantially more fantasy and other fiction than the year before

- Successfully completed National Novel Writing Month and wrote 50,000 words of my first novel, bringing the total word count to just over 110,000 words written since June

- Spent over 2 months with my mother, which is the longest I've spent with her since I left home. Our relationship isn't perfect but it's much better than it used to be, and this time has been able to be healing for both of us now that my brother’s not here

- Lived in over 5 places and cities #sofasurferlife

- Reconnected with a friend who I haven't spoken to since first year of university, and now live with her!

- Applied and got into a master's degree in Descriptive Linguistics, to start in February

- Word of Honour, Couple of Mirrors, Nirvana In Fire 2, Meteor Garden, Hikaru no Go, random bits and pieces of other cdramas…

- Spend substantial time - often upwards of 3 hours a day - tutoring a family in English. I grew very close to them and help support the kids through difficult times and periods in their life, and feel that (hopefully) I have genuinely made a difference to them

- Made a lot of new friends online. You guys - and you know who you are - have made such a difference to my life this year

- Got a new cat!

- Started playing the flute again, as well as the tin whistle, and realised that Chinese has inexplicably helped my ability to play by ear. I don't understand how this works either, but back when I actually played the flute regularly in a concert band, I was absolutely hopeless at playing anything by ear. Now naturally everything else including my technique is worse since I haven't practiced in years, but my ability to play by ear is inexplicably 20000 times better. Who knows?!

- Before I enjoyed myself, improved my flexibility a huge amount! I can almost do a scorpion now :D

- Tried out CrossFit, which I really enjoyed, and will definitely go back to once the pandemic is over and it’s safe.

- Watched a lot of people fall into the river from my window. Very amusing.

- Stayed with my friend and his girlfriend for some time. It was lovely and me and said girlfriend are now incredibly close and once spent an evening washing clothes in the bath drunk by stamping on them and singing bad sea shanties and I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy

- Saved a hedgehog from being killed!

- Did some art again for the first time in years

- Went to a a pride, only my second one! (And made a fool of myself because all the kids there were so young and didn’t know wtf I was talking about)

- Had a wonderful Christmas with my family, which was especially remarkable because my brother was there, and we haven't enjoyed each each other's company since about 2007. But it was actually really nice and I'm hopefully our relationship can move on going forwards.

- (Also, my brother had a secret child!!!!!! Wtf!!!!!)

- Started learning German again

- Started learning Python

- Figured out a lot more about myself, which is not to be overlooked! Some of the things I learnt I won't go into, since this is a public space, but I know they will be incredibly useful for me going forwards.

- Had a few sobering wake up calls about health: my hands have gradually been more and more painful, and eventually I've had to look into other input methods, such as dictation software. That's what I'm using to write this post! It's difficult, and it's taking some time to get used to a very different type of writing, but I'm confident that with support I'll get there. Crucially, it means that my hands are far less fucked than they were before :D :D Which is good. And hopefully means I'll be able to write again, which I haven't been able to do since NaNo because they’ve been hurting so much. It also work for German and Chinese!

I haven't been keeping track of any hours spent on Chinese or other languages, so I'm not able to do a langblr roundup of everything I've achieved this year in terms of languages. To be honest, I could have done a lot more - but I'm just pleased that I continued learning at all in  what turned out to be one of the worst years of my life.

Thank you everyone for your support! Seeing the interaction on some of my posts - and seeing what you guys got from it - has helped me get through.

What have you guys achieved during 2021, in terms of languages or otherwise? I'd love to hear!

- meichenxi out

[jamaisjoons]

love alive ⤑ jjk | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 a year after you and jungkook break up, the two of you meet at your brother’s party. 〞post break up au. exes to lovers au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: jungkook x reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: angst ⋆ fluff ⋆ smut

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 17k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: mentions of alcohol, swearing, so much angst, pining? i guess, they’re both broken up but still love each other so there’s that lmao, reader emotionally cheats a fair amount, dom!jungkook, big cock!jungkook, sub!reader, pussy eating, hair pulling, fingering, dirty talk, this was supposed to be soft sex but idk what happened, okay it’s kinda soft but also feral, tender feral sex, aka the seraphjoon vibe, unprotected sex, riding, creampie, multiple orgasms

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: YEEEHAW LOOK I DID SOMETHING !! i had sudden inspo for this fic and while it HURTS it doesn’t hurt too bad i dont think. anyway, i hope you enjoy it but its like 3am so i’m going to bed now hawyeet

⇥ part of the mixtape series

⏤ edited by my wonderful beta @shadowsremedy​

One late Friday evening, Jungkook finds himself in his apartment. He’s currently sat on the sofa, simply staring off into space as he waits for his date to return. Jungkook doesn’t really remember much about her, they’d just been to dinner and try as he might, he just hadn’t been able to focus on the conversation. One reason being none other than it had been a completely stilted conversation - first dates were always awkward - but paired with the fact he barely knows her, and that he’d been on about seventeen different first dates in the last three months, he’d found himself unable to really keep the conversation going.

Of course, the second - and more major - reason, would be that she’s not you.

But Jungkook would rather not think about that right now.

“Do you have any wine?” Jungkook’s date calls out. Breaking out of his daze, Jungkook’s eyes come back into focus as he trains his attention back onto her. Eyebrows slightly furrowed, he scrambles for her name. Jiha? Jihyo? Jihye! That’s it. Jihye looks at him expectantly, waiting for his answer.

“Uh, maybe. I don’t know,” comes Jungkook’s distracted answer, “there may be some in the bottom cupboard on the left-hand side,” he continues nonchalantly - not really thinking about it. He thinks he remembers seeing an open bottle there, but again, he doesn’t drink wine all that often so he doesn’t really care. He watches Jihye rummage around in his kitchen, her short black dress riding further up the backs of her thighs - and Jungkook knows he should feel some sort of attraction towards her - she’s incredibly beautiful - not to mention her body’s practically perfect - and yet, he feels… nothing.

Why is he on a date with her again? Oh yes, because she frequented the same gym as he did and had asked him out randomly earlier in the week. Jungkook lets out a little sigh, his head falls back onto the back of the sofa. Staring up at the ceiling, his mind casts back to all the dates he’s had recently. Most of them approach him and he doesn’t really know why he keeps saying yes - but he has an inkling it’s to do with the fact that he’s still not over you. Though, that doesn’t really matter.

You’re long gone, and the last Jungkook had heard about you, was that you’d met someone else - someone willing to give you more than he could - someone willing to give you what you want. His heart constraints at the thought of you, but he shakes the thoughts out of his head. He needs to move on - it’s been long enough. Almost a year. Well, it’s been exactly seven months, twenty-three days and nine hours since you walked out on him, but who’s keeping count? Certainly not him.

“Oh! I found some. It’s already open - do you mind if I have some?” Jihye asks, and reflexively, Jungkook finds himself rolling his eyes. If he hadn’t wanted her to have some, he wouldn’t have told her where the wine was. Biting his tongue, however, Jungkook just lets out a non-committal hum. Once done pouring herself a glass of wine, Jihye returns to him while taking a sip of her wine. Suddenly, she stops, her face twisting in disgusting as she spits her wine back into her glass. Own features twisting in disgust, Jungkook regards her through guarded eyes, wondering what was going on.

“Gross! Why does this wine have pieces of cork in it? Also, I think it’s gone off - it tastes weird,” Jihye gripes as she takes her glass back into his kitchen. Barely paying attention to her words, Jungkook stares in unsettlement at the bottle. The dark green glass glints under the warm kitchen lights, his heart lurching as he recognises the bottle.

With unfocused eyes, he stares at the bottle, unmoving as his mind buzzes with what feels like static. Hazily, he registers that Jihye is speaking, but through the thick fog of his memories, Jungkook’s mind barely notices what she’s saying. Nonetheless, the exact moment Jihye begins tilting the bottle over the sink, attempting to flush its contents, Jungkook jumps to his feet.

“No! Don’t throw it out,” Jungkook’s voice thunders, his long legs carrying him into the kitchen swiftly. Jihye startles, looking at him in dumbfounded incredulity.

“What? Why? It’s got pieces of cork in it, and it tastes funny,” Jihye replies, turning back and beginning to pour the wine again. Abruptly, Jungkook snatches the bottle out of her hand, causing Jihye to jump.

“It’s not off, it just tastes like that. It’s bad wine,” Jungkook mutters as he puts the stopper back in the neck of the bottle.

“All the more reason to throw it out?” Jihye suggests, Jungkook’s jaw flexing at her words.

“I’m not throwing it out,” Jungkook replies, his voice hardened. Jihye cocks an eyebrow at him.

“Come on Jungkook, I think you should throw it out,” Jihye says coyly, a smile crawling onto her face. Imperceptibly, Jungkook’s eyes narrow. The flirtatiousness in her demeanour isn’t lost on him, nor is the fact that she likely thinks he’s joking. But Jungkook isn’t joking. He’s not throwing the wine out - whether it has pieces of cork in it, whether it tastes bad, or even if it had been off, he’s not throwing it out.

“No,” Jungkook says, his voice full of resolve. Jihye startles as she realises he’s not being playful. She raises her eyebrow once again, cocking her hip to the side.

“What’s so special about it? It’s just a bottle of wine,” Jihye points out. Of course, to anyone, it would be just a bottle of wine - but to him, it’s so much more.

It’s the last thing he has left of you.

When you’d broken up with him, ending your five-year relationship, you’d moved everything out of his apartment. The stupid cushions Jungkook hated - really, they only took up more space on the sofa, meaning he couldn’t lounge about properly - your hundred and one towels, even the sheets: the ones that had smelled like you. They’re all gone, along with all your clothes and belongings, leaving a half-empty apartment, and a hole in Jungkook’s heart. Every and any trace of you had slowly been removed from his flat and consequently his life. And now, he’s left with just this bottle of wine. - the one you’d forgotten about because it’d been hidden at the back of the cupboard.

“Jungkook? Are you listening to me? What’s so great about this bottle?” Jihye asks. Once again, however, Jungkook’s mind wanders to you. Unable to pull away from the bottle, Jihye fades from the world, her voice becoming distant and hazy as he recedes back into his memories.

Flashback - three years ago

A knock resounding at Jungkook’s door, he takes a deep breath. Looking at himself in the mirror one last time, he brushes the non-existent lint off his blazer. Then, running his fingers through his hair, he nods at himself and leaves his bedroom. Approaching the door, he swings it open, a large smile painted on his face as he spots you.

“Hello, beautiful,” Jungkook greets the moment he spots you. However, the moment he actually sees you, he finds himself stopping. Dressed in a flowing sundress, a dazzling smile on your face and bright, twinkling eyes - you look positively radiant. A loud whoosh of air escapes his nose, his eyes softening at you, “you look gorgeous,” he breathlessly says, his voice low.

Your smile brightening, you grin up at him, “Happy third anniversary!” you call out cheerily. Jungkook bites his lip, and unable to stop himself, swoops down and presses a kiss to your lips.

“Happy anniversary,” he mutters back, his lips brushing yours with every movement. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you chew on it while giving him a smile. Even three years into your relationship, Jungkook still managed to set butterflies aflutter in the pits of your stomach with the slightest touch.

Swiftly, you step into his apartment, easily navigating your way towards his kitchen as you place the bags of food and wine onto his counter. “Are you sure you don’t want to go out?” you ask curiously, peering at your boyfriend through the corner of your eyes.

However, Jungkook only steps up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist, “Nope!” he happily replies, popping the ‘p’ sound, “you said you’d rather just have a quiet night in. Besides, we went out for the cruise-ship dinner thing last year,” Jungkook continues, humming in thought at the memory. A smile curls on your own lips and you twist in his arms, winding your own around his waist as you place your head on his chest.

“Mmm, that was a good anniversary. But if I remember correctly, someone ended up being seasick from drinking too much,” you say pointedly, tilting your head to look up at him, your chin resting on his sternum. Despite his cheeks flushing a rosy shade, Jungkook scowls.

“It’s not my fault… the alcohol was stronger than I thought it was,” he mumbles under his breath. You shake your head in fondness, but then, your lips curl into a slight frown. Every anniversary, Jungkook had taken you somewhere - your first, he’d taken you on a ski trip, your second, he’d taken you on a weekend break to Jeju island, and of course, your third had been a cruise-ship dinner. This year, however, you’d been recently promoted to the department head of your company, but that had meant additional stress and weight to an already heavy workload. As a result, you’d asked Jungkook if he was okay with just a quiet night in - because there was nothing you wanted more than to just spend some time with your loving boyfriend.

“Are you sure this is okay? If you want to go out or something, we still can,” you ask. However, Jungkook only shakes his head once again while pulling you closer into him.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Honestly. I just want to spend some time with you. Whether that’s here in my apartment, or in yours, or on an expensive date, or even in a garbage dump, it doesn’t matter. I just want to be with you,” Jungkook grins before smacking a sloppy kiss on your forehead. Face twisting in disgust, your earlier doubt about Jungkook being happy with your choice of date fades away, and you playfully smack him before pushing him away.

“Ew gross! You just slobbered all over me,” you gripe, rubbing the wet spot on your forehead.

Waggling his eyebrows, “and there’s more where that came from,” Jungkook playfully teases. A light snort escapes your lips as you shake your head before turning around.

“Yeah, whatever. I bought wine and steak for dinner. It’s not much but I don’t know, I felt like being classy,” you casually shrug while turning to the bag of groceries Jungkook hadn’t noticed. Head cocked to the side, he grimaces at the bottle of wine. Suddenly, you stop, your lips curling in a frown, “Although… in hindsight, I should have bought more food - knowing your bottomless stomach,” you sigh, looking at him from the corner of your eye.

“Yeah, you probably should have,” Jungkook deadpans. Lips twisting into a pout, your shoulders deflate at his words. Jungkook sees your disappointment, his heart dropping in his chest at the thought of upsetting you. He’d meant it as a joke - really, he had - but you’d clearly taken it seriously. Stepping up to you, Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist once again, his chin resting on your shoulder and hands clasps around your belly.

“I was only joking, sweetheart,” Jungkook says lowly, his face nuzzling into your hair while he presses a kiss to the outer shell of your ear. “Wine and steak sound good. Very classy,” he continues, pressing another kiss to your flesh - this time the column of your throat.

Instantly, your lips curl into a victorious smirk, “Okay, great!” you say, your shoulders immediately perking up. Jungkook blinks at your sudden change in demeanour, his nose scrunching when he realises what’s just happened.

“Hey! Did you do that on purpose?” he asks, his eyes narrowing into slits, his gaze full of accusation. Face twisting into a picture of innocence, you smile at him coyly - and if he didn’t know you as well as he did, he’d buy it - but Jungkook sees the sparkle of mischief in your eyes.

Before he can open his mouth, however, you’re already cutting him off, “Where’s your corkscrew?” you ask, rummaging through his drawers. Jungkook watches you search through the utensils, your lips curling downwards in concentration.

His own lips twisting, Jungkook approaches you, helping you look for the corkscrew. However, after a few moments, “Oh. I don’t think I have one,” Jungkook finally says. Eyebrows furrowing slightly, Jungkook wonders if he ever even bought one, but he doesn’t think he has.

“Kook! How are we supposed to drink this now?” you whine, a pout forming on your face again. Shrugging, Jungkook whips out his phone.

“I’m sure we can like, find another way,” Jungkook replies, already googling a way to open the wine bottle. Curiously, you peer over his shoulder, Jungkook’s arm instinctively wrapping around you as he scrolls with one hand. Head tilting upwards, you smile at your boyfriend, his features slightly scrunched in concentration. Unable to help yourself, you lean up and press a kiss to the bottom of his jaw. The moment your lips brush his skin, the corners of Jungkook’s lips twitch before he twists his head and presses a kiss to the temple of your head.

Arms wrapping around his waist, you lean your head on his bicep, “find anything yet?” you ask, Jungkook humming in response.

“We could use a blowtorch,” he replies casually.

“Do you have a blowtorch?”

“Fair enough. We could smack it against the wall using something to cushion it.”

“And risk breaking the bottle? No thanks.” Like that, Jungkook continues reading out suggestions: from pumping it out using a bicycle tire pump, all the way to slapping it out with a shoe, only for you to refute them. Eventually, however, with no other option, you and Jungkook eventually try using a screwdriver. Which brings you to now, almost fifteen minutes later.

“Oh my god, I think I’ve got it,” Jungkook yells in triumph. You’re currently sat on the kitchen island, your legs dangling as you watch your boyfriend struggle with the bottle. About five minutes after attempting to open the bottle, you’d conceded defeat. Your boyfriend, however, is much more competitive than you are, and he’d downright refused to let the bottle win. Thus, for the last ten minutes, you’d watched your boyfriend futilely dig, and twist, the screwdriver into the cork.

Quirking your eyebrow at your boyfriend, your eyes rove over him. He’s currently stood with a victorious grin, the apples of his cheeks bunched up around his eyes. He’s holding out the wine bottle, the metal head of the screwdriver stuck into the neck of the bottle. Hell, the cork isn’t even in one piece anymore - bits and pieces of it littered on the floor around him from where Jungkook had dug it out in an attempt to bury the screwdriver into the wood stopper.

“Have you now?” you drawl sarcastically. It certainly doesn’t look like he’s got it. For one, the cork is still in the bottle.

Sneering at your snide tone, “Watch this!” Jungkook calls out, and then, grabbing the handle of the tool, he pulls as hard as he can. A loud pop resounds through the air and you startle slightly, watching as Jungkook holds the screwdriver - with half the cork attached to it - in the air.

“Oh my god! You did it!” you call in surprise, jumping off the table and walking towards him.

Puffing out his chest, “and you didn’t believe in me! But I did it anyway,” Jungkook says proudly.

You roll your eyes before gesturing to the half-broken cork, “yeah barely.”

“Tomato, tomato. Potato, potato. The point is, I did it, and we can have wine now” Jungkook replies. With another roll of your eyes, you cross his kitchen and pull two wine glasses out of his cupboard.

“Yeah, yeah. My knight in shining suit. Now come on! I’ve literally been waiting twenty-five minutes to drink this,” you say, holding out the glasses towards him. Nodding, Jungkook pours the wine, filling the tumblers halfway before placing the bottle back on the island.

He takes the glasses from your hand, placing them on the dining table and you follow him, placing the plates of food onto the table. The two of you take seats opposite each other, Jungkook raising his glass towards you in a salute. For a few moments, the two of you tuck into your food, the muffled sounds of your joint chewing filling the air.

Then, “this steak is cold,” you grumble, a grimace settling on your face. In hindsight, after spending all that time trying to open the wine, the two of you should have heated your food - but in the triumph of actually opening the wine, you’d both forgotten.

“Yeah, and this wine is fucking gross,” Jungkook gripes, his own features twisting in disgust. Blinking owlishly, you reach for your own glass, sipping the burgundy liquid. The minute it washes over your tastebuds, you find yourself gagging. It’s sour - the acrid stench of it only burning your nasal cavity and intensifying the bitterness of the wine.

Forcibly, you swallow it down before spitting and sputtering into your hand, “yeah, and it’s got pieces of cork in it. Gross, what a waste of a hundred and fifty thousand won,” you scowl. Immediately, Jungkook baulks.

“A hundred and fifty thousand won? For that trash?” Jungkook yells in incredulity. You look at him in surprise, the two of you simply staring at each other. Then, all of a sudden, the two of you burst out laughing. Neither of you has any real reason for why you’re both laughing. Perhaps it was the ridiculous price of the incredibly poortasting wine, perhaps it was that Jungkook had spent a good fifteen minutes struggling with said wine or perhaps it was because even after all that struggle, neither of you could stomach the taste. Either way, the absurdity of the situation isn’t lost on either of you, and you both can’t help but laugh hysterically.

“Man, I can’t believe you spent that much money on that shit,” Jungkook giggles, wiping away at his tears.

Lower lip pulled between your teeth, you grin at Jungkook, “I can’t believe you spent so much time trying to open it,” you quip. Shaking your heads, you both resume eating your food, forgoing the wine.

Once the two of you are done, you help Jungkook clear the table. Jungkook watches you throw out the leftovers before placing the plates into the sink. The kitchen lights are dimmed low, the amber light reflecting off of your skin and silhouetting you in its glow. The bright walls off his kitchen only help to highlight your body, the hem of your dress swishing around your thighs with every movement. His darkened, lust-filled gaze rakes over you and he can’t help but swallow thickly when his eyes rest on the smooth curve of your ass.

Helpless against his desire for you, you feel Jungkook’s arms wrap around your body. Loosely, his hands rest on your hips, the pads of his fingertips gently digging into your flesh. “Do you wanna head to bed?” Jungkook asks, his voice breathy as he begins peppering kisses along the column of your neck. You raise your eyebrow at his sudden change in demeanour. Nevertheless, you’d be lying if you said his light, attentive touch wasn’t clouding your head in hazy lust.

“All of a sudden?” you ask, your tone light and teasing. Jungkook responds by digging his fingers harder into your hips, pulling them back so your ass is flush against his crotch.

“If I’m being honest, I’ve wanted to get you out of this dress as soon as I saw you in it. You look beautiful. I love you so much,” Jungkook rasps in response, lightly nipping at the sensitive flesh just below your earlobe. Twisting in his hold, you wind your hands around his neck, carding your fingers through his hair at the back of his nape before lightly playing with the locks.

“I love you too,” you breathe out, “take me to bed and I’ll show you how much,” you breathlessly whisper back. A shuddering exhale escaping his lips, Jungkook’s mouth descends onto yours. Instantly, the two of you lose yourselves into each other; the wine bottle long forgotten.

“Jungkook? Are you even paying attention to me?” Jihye suddenly calls out, her hands waving in front of his face. Blinking blankly, Jungkook’s vision comes back into focus. He looks around his apartment - it’s still the same as it was two years ago. The kitchen lights are still low, and his walls are bright, and that same bottle of wine sits on his marble counter - practically mocking him - but you’re not here. It’s not you standing in his kitchen.

“I- you need to leave,” Jungkook chokes out, his voice hoarse and his throat thick with emotion. Jihye looks at him in dumbfounded bewilderment. She opens her mouth to argue, but then stops, her words dying on her lips. Taking in Jungkook’s distant gaze, Jihye notices his attention is once again on the bottle. With a scoff, she rolls her eyes before snorting. Then, grabbing her purse, she stalks out of his apartment - but not before slamming the door.

Jungkook doesn’t care.

Instead, he stares at the dark bottle of wine. His reflection glints back at him, his distorted face mirroring the despair and sadness etched onto his face. Once again, he loses himself into his memories. Memories of when the two of you were still together, memories of you smiling at him, of you kissing him, memories of the two of you, when you were both happy - and together. But not anymore. Now, those memories that he’d once cherished - once taken for granted - are tainted: bruised and tarnished with the restless memories of you leaving; of you walking out of this very same apartment and leaving him all alone.

The warm memories that had once been his saving grace, now leave him cold, with a deep ache in his chest.

With one final glance at the bottle, Jungkook buries his head in his hands, and then lets out a heartwrenching sob.

In the comfort of your own home, you lie in your bed, staring up into nothingness. The bedroom is completely bathed in darkness, not even a single sliver of moonlight peeking in through the blackout-blinds you had installed. After your third anniversary with Jungkook, you’d moved in with him, and your ex-boyfriend had hated any and every inkling of light while he was trying to sleep. He simply couldn’t sleep unless he was in complete darkness. Of course, after two years of living with him, you’d also gotten used to it - and now, you aren’t able to sleep without complete darkness either.

Yet, you still aren’t able to sleep. There are many reasons for your lack of sleep. Many of them are to do with your ex-boyfriend. It’s been just over half a year since you and Jungkook broke up. Almost eight months now since you walked out of his life. Eight months since you reluctantly broke off your five-year relationships. But you had no choice. You and Jungkook had wanted different things in life and though heartbreaking, you knew it was best for the two of you to go your separate ways then and there.

Of course, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. Nor does it help qualm the crushing bitterness, nor the misery, you feel at Jungkook’s absence in your life.

Though, you figure, those feelings are a given. After all, the two of you had been together for five whole years. Five years is a long time to spend with someone - and for the entirety of those years, Jungkook had been your one and only - the man you had loved with your entire heart. The man you still love with all your heart. It’s not like you could just forget five years of love in a day - nor in eight months. Hell, you don’t think you could forget him, nor the love you feel for him, in your entire lifetime.

Thus, in the absolute dark of your bedroom, you stare up at the ceiling. Though, you don’t really see it. No, all you see is darkness. A low sigh escapes your lips and you shift on your bed, trying to find a comfortable position. But try as you might, you simply can’t find one. And it has every reason to do with the man occupying your bed - if you remove your residual feelings for Jungkook out of the picture. Tilting your head slightly, you turn to your side. Even in the darkness, you can make out the obscure outline of your current boyfriend’s - though you use that term loosely, because really, he’s a family friend you’ve known a while and your mother had set you up with - face as he snores lightly. With another sigh, you turn your head back to stare at the ceiling.

Other than thoughts of Jungkook, one of the main reasons you can’t sleep is: you’re on the wrong side of the bed. For as long as you’d been with Jungkook, even before you lived together, Jungkook had always slept on the left, and you’d slept on the right. It wasn’t like you’d purposely decided on that, it’s just how it had worked out. Jungkook always slept on the left, and you on the right - before the two of you had even met. And after you’d met? Well, it had just clicked - as if the two of you were made for each other.

But now, you’re on the left.

And Minhyuk is on the right.

And it’s not right. Nor does it feel right. In more than one sense of the word.

Shifting once again, you lowly groan when a sting of pain shoots through your lower abdomen, bringing you to another reason you can’t sleep. You’re on your period, and with your period, comes the cursed cramps. No matter how much you try, you simply can’t seem to find a comfortable position to lie in. That, paired with the fact that you’re on the wrong side of the bed, and the plaguing thoughts of Jungkook, has insomnia gripping at your head. Momentarily, you’d considered getting up and heating up a hot water bottle to soothe your pain, but you simply can’t find it in yourself to get out of bed - not when moving only seemed to fuel the fire in the pits of your uterus.

Once again, you turn to Minhyuk. Briefly, you consider waking him up and asking him to bring you the hot water bottle, and you even open your mouth to call him. But then, you pause, the words dying on your lips as your throat constricts. This scene is almost too familiar to you, and in the dark of your bedroom, you can’t stop your mind from wandering to the past.

Flashback - two years ago

Shifting uncomfortably, you’re woken from your sleep by the searing pain in your lower abdomen. Through the haze of your sleep, you let out quiet whimpers and continue shuffling in bed, trying to find a comfortable position to fall back asleep in. However, try as you might, you simply can’t seem to find one. This time, when you shift again, you feel Jungkook’s arm lazily wrap around you.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Jungkook asks while shuffling closer towards him. His words cause you to still, your shoulders relaxing as you feel his warm presence surround you. Your boyfriend moves his head to just over your shoulder, his hand sluggishly rubbing circles over your stomach. He nudges your t-shirt to the side - really, it’s his - and presses a tender kiss to the skin of your shoulder that he’s just exposed. Before you can even say anything, or alert him to exactly what is wrong, “do you have bad cramps again?” he sighs out. Despite your pain, you find your face softening, a soft smile curling on your lips at the sleepy tone of his voice.

“Yeah. Sorry, I didn’t wanna wake you up,” you reply lowly. Jungkook only shakes his head, his long hair tickling the flesh of your collarbone.

“Tis okay,” Jungkook slurs sleepily. Then, before you can tell him to go back to sleep, Jungkook is already crawling out of bed. You hear a loud thud, followed by a pained groan, “I’m okay. I just- didn’t see the end of the bed,” Jungkook mumbles through the haziness of his sleep. Instantly, his words cause concern to well up in your chest, however, before you can ask him if he’s okay, he’s leaving your bedroom.

Left alone, you flick the lamp on your bedside table on and sit up in bed with a wince. You take in short, deep breath, trying your best to soothe the vengeful cramps in the pit of your stomach. If you didn’t know better, you’d almost think your uterus was tying itself into knots. Another sharp sting and you let out a low whimper, doubling over in pain as you clutch your stomach.

Moments later, you feel a hand soothingly rub your lower back as your boyfriend - now more awake - crouches down beside your side of the bed. Large, doe eyes stare at you in concern as he passes you your hot water bottle. “Here you go, baby,” Jungkook says softly, placing the fuzzy bottle on your lower stomach. The warm heat instantly soothes your cramps, a sigh of relief escaping your lips as you feel the pain begin to subside.

“Thank you,” you rasp out, but Jungkook only shakes his head. Then, he thrusts his hand and a glass in front of your face.

When you quirk your eyebrow at him, “painkillers,” Jungkook merely responds. Your face crumples, your heart speeding up in your chest. Gratefully, you accept the pills from him, popping them in your mouth before chugging down the glass of water. When you’re done, Jungkook takes the glass from your hand and places it back onto your bedside table. Once done, he helps you shift back down into a laying position as he tucks you into bed. Then, he crawls under the sheets himself.

You feel the left side of the bed shift before Jungkook slides in. Rolling closer to you, he presses his chest against your back while throwing an arm to rest loosely over your waist. Lazily, he rubs his hand over your hips, soothingly massaging the skin while pressing tender kisses to the back of your shoulder. “Are you feeling better?” Jungkook mumbles. His voice is low, heavy with sleep, and you can’t help but shudder as it reverberates through your eardrum.

“Mmm. Much better. Thank you,” you whisper back, more than grateful at his thoughtful gestures. If there was one thing you absolutely adored about Jungkook, it would be his utter thoughtfulness. More often than not, you just wouldn’t need to tell him what was wrong; after almost four years together, he could simply read you like a book. He knew what you wanted and when you wanted it. He knew when to leave you alone, or when to help you. He could read your moods as if he was well versed in all things that surrounded you. More than anything, however, Jungkook was simply empathetic towards you - and it made you fall for him all the more.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words easily falling from your lips. You feel Jungkook’s lips curl against your shoulder, an indolent smile playing at his lips.

Without even a moment of hesitation, “I love you too,” he mumbles back. Then, the two of you fall back into silence: with you clutching the hot water bottle to your uterus, and Jungkook genially rubbing circles into the flesh of your hips.

Another sharp pain ricochets through your uterus, pulling you out of your reverie. A low whimper escapes your throat and you shift in bed again. However, unlike Jungkook, Minhyuk stays fast asleep. Once again, you contemplate waking him up and you don’t want to, but the pain is almost too much. Before you can stop yourself, “Minhyuk?” you whimper out while gently shaking him.

Minhyuk lets out a groggy groan before, “what’s wrong, ____?” he asks, his voice heavily laden with sleep.

“C-can you go into the kitchen and get me my hot water bottle, please? I’ve got really bad cramps,” you whisper hoarsely. Minhyuk only groans in response.

“____… I’ve got to wake up for work in three hours. Can you not get it yourself?” Minhyuk asks sleepily. There’s no malice in his tone, nor upset or anger, just drowsy question - and you know he doesn’t mean anything by it - but still, you can’t help the way your stomach drops at his words. Biting your lip, you suck in a sharp breath, the movement making you whimper in pain again. Clearly, Minhyuk hears the sound escape your lips, because he’s sliding out of bed - albeit begrudgingly - and leaving your bedroom.

Five minutes later, he walks back and passes you the hot water bottle. With a small voice, you thank him, Minhyuk grunting in response. The right side of the mattress tilts and you feel Minhyuk slide back into bed. “Goodnight,” Minhyuk mumbles, though you can tell he’s already falling asleep again. Briefly, he pecks your cheek before turning his back towards you. Short moments later, his light snores fill the quiet air of the night, leaving you alone once again.

Chewing your lip, you place the hot water bottle onto your stomach, allowing the warm, soothing sensation to assuage the pain of your cramps. Your mind casts back to Jungkook, and the way he took care of you on nights like this, and then you turn to Minhyuk once again. You can still feel his lips on your cheek - from where he’d kissed you - but it’s not the same. Minhyuk is nice, and though reluctantly, he still got out of bed to get you your water bottle.

But it’s not the same.

It’s not the same when he kisses you on the cheek, or brings you your water bottle. It’s not the same when he buys you flowers, or takes you out to dinner. It’s not the same when he kisses you, or when you sleep together. It’s not the same, because while nice, all of his gestures are empty. There’s no love in them, no thoughtfulness, no passion. Minhyuk is nice - and he does things out of nicety - but he also does them out of obligation.

And it’s not the same.

Because there is no love in them.

Because he’s not Jungkook.

Because he won’t ever be.

A month and a half later, you find yourself nervously staring at the brass-gold number plates of your brother’s apartment. You haven’t seen Hoseok in a few months - well, nine months to be exact. Nine months on this day. Wow. It’s really been nine months since you broke up with Jungkook, huh? It definitely feels like it’s been longer. If anything, it feels like an eternity. Though, you suppose, it must, since you’d gone from spending almost every day with him to suddenly not seeing him. It had been hard, and multiple times, you’ve wondered if you should just go back - but you know you can’t. You’d broken up for reasons - serious reasons - reasons that had meant a lot to you.

All these months, you’ve tried avoiding him as best as you could. Anything and everything that was within your power, you had done: from avoiding all of your friends because they reminded you too much of him, to moving to a different part of the city just to avoid running into him by chance. It had been hard, and god had it hurt - stillhurts - but you knew you had to do it. But now, standing in front of your brother’s apartment, you know you can no longer run from him anymore. Today is Hoseok’s birthday - and you know he’d be heartbroken if you didn’t turn up.

But you also know Jungkook will be here - because there’s no way Hoseok hadn’t invited him.

Funnily enough, you’d met Jungkook because of Hoseok. The two of them had met at the swimming club in your university, and the two had gotten along well. At first, you’d been fearful of admitting to Hoseok that you were seeing Jungkook - but to your utter surprise, your older brother just hadn’t cared. He liked Jungkook and he trusted Jungkook to treat you right - and he had. For five years, Jungkook had been the best, sweetest, most perfect boyfriend anyone could have asked for. Until that day. That fateful day, nine months ago, when you’d walked out of his apartment - and consequently his life.

“____? You okay?” Minhyuk asks, waving his hand in front of your space. Pulled out of your thoughts, you stare at your boyfriend - though once again, you use the term loosely. Minhyuk stares at you in confusion before gesturing to the door. The very same door you’d been blankly staring at while reminiscing about your brother and boyfriend. Looking at Minhyuk, you can’t help the way your stomach tosses at the sight of him.

Momentarily, you wonder what Hoseok would say. Hoseok absolutely adored Jungkook - to the point where you’d find your brother cuddling with your boyfriend, or kissing his forehead. You shudder just thinking about it. That had been a funny day. One day, you’d decided to surprise your boyfriend by spontaneously turning up at his apartment. However, to your utter surprise, you’d turned up just to see your boyfriend and your brother snuggling while watching Netflix. Sure, it was a cute sight, and ordinarily, you would have been touched. If it weren’t for the fact that your brother was cuddling your boyfriend.

So yes, suffice to say the least, Hoseok absolutely loved Jungkook - and throughout your entire relationship, he’d completely rooted and supported the two of you. Even when you and Jungkook would fight, even when you’d drive each other crazy, Hoseok would speak to the both of you and calm you down and make you see reason. Reason being that you both loved each other. Which is why, dread settles in your stomach as you stare blankly at Minhyuk. Once again, you wonder what Hoseok would say. You know he knows that you’re seeing Minhyuk - your mother has to have told him.

But knowing and seeing are two different things and you have no idea how he’ll react to Minhyuk. You love your brother, you really, really do - but Hoseok has a bad habit of not being able to bite his tongue - and that paired with the fact that he absolutely loved Jungkook - and still does - has trepidation settling deep within your stomach. It doesn’t help that it’s so soon after you and Jungkook broke up either. Nor does it help that Hoseok already knows Minhyuk - he is the son of your mother’s friend after all. But you’re twenty-seven now and you’re not getting any younger and you have to move on with your life. Whether that be with Jungkook or not. Though, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely distraught that it turned out to be without your sweet boyfriend. Or well, ex-boyfriend, you remind yourself.

Once again, Minhyuk looks at you expectantly. Drawing in every ounce of courage you can muster, you take in a deep breath and then knock on your brother’s door. You don’t know how long it takes Hoseok to answer. Realistically, you know it’s only mere moments - but that doesn’t stop it feeling like an excruciating eternity.

The moment Hoseok’s door swings open, you’re met with the sight of your brother. Smiling shyly at him, you awkwardly wave, “Hey Hobi,” you greet. However, Hoseok isn’t looking at you. No, he’s looking at the taller man stood next to you. Shuffling from foot to foot, your gaze flits back and forth from your brother to Minhyuk. Minhyuk for the most of it, looks a little lost and unsure of himself or what to say. Oppositely, your brother simply stares at Minhyuk, looking him up and down, his face a picture of passiveness and his usually warm gaze completely guarded.

“H-Hobi?” you choke out, clearing your throat as you try to get your brother’s attention. Hoseok blinks for a minute and then turns to you.

Momentarily, he regards you with his passive gaze before his lips quirk, and then suddenly, he’s beaming and pulling you into a hug. “____! I’ve missed you!” you brother practically screams, and despite the slight wince as he almost bursts your eardrums, you find yourself letting out a breath of air you hadn’t even known you’d been holding. The minute your brother envelops you in his arms, you feel yourself getting choked up - you’d missed his warmth. You’d desperately craved his affection when you’d broken up with Jungkook, but you had no idea what to say to him - or even how to approach him.

“Come on in. It’s a pretty quiet thing. There’s booze and snacks in the kitchen just help yourself to it, music’s mainly in the living room if you just wanna chill but if you need somewhere more quiet, the balcony or spare bedroom are available. ____ will tell you where to hang up your coats,” Hoseok says, smiling at Minhyuk. You bite your lip at Hoseok’s tone - it may not be obvious to others, but you know your brother like the back of your hand, and you can see the stiffness in his smile, and the chilled politeness in his tone. “Let’s catch up later on, yeah?” Hoseok says, turning back to you. Stiffly, you nod at him, already knowing he wants to talk about Jungkook.

Both you and Minhyuk enter Hoseok’s apartment and you can’t help the dismay that streaks through you. Hoseok wasn’t kidding when he said it’s a pretty quiet affair. About twenty people are milling about, the low thrumming bass of Hoseok’s music vibrating through the air. It’s loud enough to be heard throughout the apartment; not enough to cause the neighbours to complain, but more than enough to not really be able to have a decent conversation with someone.

Scattered about the crowd are a few people you recognise - Namjoon: Hoseok’s best friend from high school, and of course, Seokjin and Yoongi - his other best friends from college. Momentarily, you spot Jimin and you find yourself reeling at the familiar face. He’d been Hoseok’s friend from dance school when your brother was still in middle school. Your eyes continue scanning over the crowd before you find yourself stopping.

A rush of heat courses through your veins, the rushing of blood resounding through your eardrums when you spot Kim Taehyung - Hoseok and Jungkook’s other friend from swim team. But it’s not Taehyung that has you stopping. No, it’s who he’s speaking to.

Jungkook.

Knees buckling at the mere sight of him, your face crumples with the weight of your emotions. It’s only been nine months, and yet he looks so different from the last day you’d seen him. His hair is much longer now - so long that it falls into his eyes and you watch how he flicks the soft strands of hair out of his face. The motion of his hair practically mesmerises you and you can’t find it in yourself to look away from him. With his smooth caramel skin, soft features and gently sloping lips, he has your heart constricting between your ribcage.

Then you spot it. The black leather jacket. The same one you’d gotten him as a birthday gift four years ago. It’s still preserved beautifully, not a single piece out of place. The leather still shines like it’s brand new, and it still sits on his body as well as it did the first time you gifted it to him. Taehyung says something and Jungkook laughs in response, and the moment that he does, you let out an inaudible gasp. His head falls back, his features twisting into an expression of pure joy while his bunny-esque teeth are put on display. He looks happy - carefree - and you can’t help the sting of nostalgia that spikes through you. The music is loud, and you can barely hear anything. But somehow, his laugh resounds in your ear: ingrained in the memory of your eardrums as it plays like a record, over and over, while you watch him.

“You wanna get a drink?” Minhyuk asks. Instantly, your world comes crashing around you, and you turn to your current paramour. Blinking owlishly, you stare at him in confusion. He’s awfully close to you - a mere hair’s breadth away from you and instinctively, you find yourself backing away. Minhyuk looks at you oddly, and with a sheepish look, you nod to him. You’d gladly accept something to drink - you know you’ll need it if you wanted to survive the night.

An hour later, you find yourself standing over the Seoul city skyline. Leant up against the glass railing of Hoseok’s balcony, you simply stare at the sunset painted across Seoul. The large skyscraper buildings obscure most of it, the artificial bright lights dimming the dusky colours of twilight - but you don’t mind so much. Even obscured by the towering modern glass buildings, the dark shades of amaranth, copper and violet vividly paint the sky enough for you to take it all in.

“You okay out here?” comes a soft voice but you don’t need to turn around to see who it is. You could recognise your brother’s voice in a heartbeat.

Humming non-committally, “fine. I just... needed some space, I guess,” you mumble out with a sigh. If you’re being completely honest, you wanted space from Minhyuk. The minute he noticed your gaze on Jungkook, something in him changed - he’d become a tad overbearing, not to mention that he hasn’t left you alone all night. His sudden attachment wouldn’t have been a problem - if it weren’t the fact that you’d been maudlin about seeing Jungkook again. Thus, while he was busy entertaining a small crowd of Hoseok’s friends, you’d slipped out from under his nose and isolated yourself onto the balcony.

A loud chorus of laughs rolls across the quiet balcony and you let out another sigh. Hoseok leans against the railing next to you as he faces his apartment. “Minhyuk seems to be doing well,” comes Hoseok’s casual voice.

Another sigh, “please don’t,” you whisper. You already know where Hoseok’s going with this. Turning his back to his apartment, Hoseok joins you in basking under the quickly setting sun.

“What happened? You never told me, and Jungkook… well, Jungkook refuses to talk about it. To talk about you,” Hoseok sighs. Through your peripheral vision, you note the almost defeated look in Hoseok’s eyes. Heart clenching at his words, you grip your beer can tighter while staring dully into the distance. You don’t blame Jungkook for not talking about you - you haven’t spoken about him either. Sure, you think about him. Every. Single. Day. But thinking about him and speaking about him are two different things - the latter of which is far too painful.

When you don’t respond to his question, Hoseok simply sighs. “Okay fine, we don’t have to talk about that. But-” he begins.

Before he can continue, however, you turn and look at him, “Hobi, can we just not speak about this?” you ask quietly. Your brother looks at you pointedly, his eyes scrutinising you. With your slumped shoulders and the desperation in your eyes, Hoseok finds his eyes softening. Instantly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing your head to his chest. Automatically, you own arms wrap around him and you bask in your brother’s comforting embrace.

“You still love him,” Hoseok breathes out. There’s not a single hint of accusation in his tone, just plain understanding. More than that, it’s not a question; it’s a statement. One that has your fists curling tighter into his shirt, your shoulders tensing. You wait for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything else. Rather, he just holds you, letting you seek as much solace as you need from his hold. Frozen in his hug, you breathe deeply as you try to hold yourself together.

Eventually, you find the strength to pull away. Hoseok looks at you with gentle eyes. “Are you happy, at least? With Minhyuk?” Hoseok asks. Opening your mouth, you move to reply, but find yourself stopping. Eyebrows furrowed, your face contorts marginally as you consider Hoseok’s question. Are you happy? Honestly? You have no idea. You haven’t felt any real happiness since you walked out on Jungkook - but you’d chalked it up to the fact that you were still getting over him.

Hesitancy evident in every fibre of your being, Hoseok looks at you pointedly. “Alright. You don’t have to reply because I already know the answer to that,” Hoseok  sighs. He pauses for a moment, and you can see the uncertainty in his eyes. Yet, he continues anyway, “I know mom pushed you towards Minhyuk,” Hoseok begins, causing your eyes to widen. You open your mouth to reply, however, he cuts you off once again, “But I trust you to do the right thing. Not for anyone, but for yourself. You’re strong, ____, but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want,” Hoseok finishes. Before you can reply to him, however, you hear the balcony doors sliding open.

The two of you turn around to the newcomer, your heart fluttering when you see Jungkook. “Oh. Sorry, I’ll leave,” Jungkook quickly says, already turning around. Abruptly, however, Hoseok walks up to Jungkook before clapping him on the back.

“Nah it’s okay. I was just heading inside. You can keep ____ company if you want,” Hoseok says brightly. Internally, you despair at your brother’s words. What the fuck was he thinking? Nonetheless, before either of you can say anything, Hoseok disappears back into his apartment, consequently leaving you and Jungkook alone.

Jungkook turns to you nervously, and you can practically feel the hesitancy exuding off of him in thick waves. Pulling your lower lip between your teeth, you send him an awkward smile before gesturing for him to join you. Jungkook looks at you in a mix of worry and trepidation, but ultimately, takes Hoseok’s space beside you. The two of you stand in silence, facing the Seoul city skyline as you stare at nothing. Frazzled by his presence, you internally grasp for something to say, anything to break the thick awkward tension that surrounds the two of you.

Then, all of a sudden: “How have you been?”, “So, what’s up?”, you and Jungkook ask at the same time. You stare at each other in surprise for a couple of moments. Then, all of a sudden, you both burst out laughing.

“God, this is so weird,” Jungkook says, running a hand through his hair. Biting your lip, you nod in agreement before turning back to look at the cityscape.

With the tension broken, “so, how have you been?” you find yourself asking. From the corner of your eye, you notice Jungkook shrug listlessly.

“I’ve been… okay, I guess. How about you?”

“Fine. Alright. I guess,” you reply, mirroring his previous sentiment. They’re simple niceties - and you both know there’s a hint of deception in both your words - but neither of you says anything about it. Once again, the two of you fall into silence. Though, this time, the atmosphere isn’t thick with floundering awkwardness. Rather, it’s thick with confusion and uncertainty. Where do you go from here? What do you even say to your ex-boyfriend - one you still have feelings for?

Deciding to take a chance, “how’s work? I saw that your company released a new game,” you finally say. Jungkook’s head snaps towards you, his eyebrow rising at your question.

“You keep up to date with my company?” he asks. The incredulity in his voice surprises you and you look at him pointedly.

“Of course I do. That company means a big deal to you,” you reply easily. Despite the situation, Jungkook finds himself chuckling, even as his heart constraints at the thought of you checking up on him - even if it’s from afar.

“Yeah. It’s doing really well. Made me a lot of money. How about you? Dohyun from your department still being an ass because you’re the one who got promoted or?” Jungkook questions casually, causing you to laugh.

“Ah, man. Gotta love Dohyun. No, yeah. He’s still being an ass - but at least he doesn’t openly question my authority anymore,” you reply with an easy smile. Then, “actually, I have you to thank for that,” you softly say.

Jungkook looks at you in surprise, “me?”

Nodding, “yeah. I took your advice and threatened to fire him if he ever publicly undermined me again. That shut him up pretty quickly,” you chuckle. Jungkook snorts, the two of you laughing.

“Good! He deserves it. I know he has a problem working under a woman, but man, you deserved that promotion. You were far better qualified than him,” Jungkook compliments. Ducking shyly, you tuck a strand of hair behind your ears before smiling gently at him.

“Thanks. It means a lot,” you mumble under your breath, making Jungkook shake his head.

“No. ____, I’m serious. No one deserved it more than you. You worked so hard for it. There were days I was even worried about the stress you were under because you’d forget to eat, or you wouldn’t sleep. But I guess it was worth it in the end, because you got the promotion,” Jungkook responds. Then, he pauses, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his lips, “even if it meant there were days you’d ignore me,” Jungkook sighs dramatically. That causes you to snort, and before you can stop yourself, you playfully smack his arm.

“Hey! I gave you lots of attention. Or did you forget that time when I skipped work just so we could play hooky and go snowboarding?” you ask. Jungkook bites his lips, a tinkling giggle escaping his lips at the memory.

“Oh, that was good. You were terrible, and you fell so much I was worried you’d break something,” Jungkook reminisces, a soft sigh following his words.

Giggling to yourself, “Yeah, well we can’t all just pick up a sport and instinctively be good at them,” you snort in response.

“You’re right. Really, it’s a curse being perfect at everything,” Jungkook nods sagely in agreement. Jaw dropping, you look at him in amazement before the two of you burst out laughing.

Suddenly, a new voice breaks “What’s going on here?”

Turning around, you freeze at the sight of Minhyuk. Alternating between looking at you and Jungkook, Minhyuk’s face is a picture of passiveness, his lips set in a thin, grim line. At the sight of Minhyuk, you sense Jungkook deflate, the easy atmosphere once again thickening with tension.

“Minhyuk… this is-” you begin, ready to introduce the two. However, Minhyuk snorts.

“Yes. This is Jungkook, your ex-boyfriend. I know. Which begs the question, why are you alone out here with your ex while I’m inside?” Minhyuk asks. You reel at the accusatory tone in his voice as you double-take.

“Excuse me? We’re just out here speaking,” you exclaim and once again, Minhyuk snorts.

“It looked a little more than that,” he points out. Jaw dropping in bewilderment, you scoff at him, your eyes narrowing into thin slits.

“Uh, I think I should leave the two of you alone,” Jungkook says quietly as he begins making his way towards the balcony door.

Seeing him walk away breaks your heart, and you want to tell him to stay. Nevertheless, you know you have no right to. Not now anyway, when you have bigger problems at hand. Bigger problems namely being Minhyuk. “What’s your problem?” you ask, directing your attention to your boyfriend.

“My problem is that despite the fact that you’re going to be marrying me, you’re out here with the ex that you were seeing for five years. How do you think that makes me look?” Minhyuk argues back. At Minhyuk’s words, Jungkook finds his blood freezing as he’s brought to an abrupt halt - just before he can escape the balcony. You, yourself, are at a loss of something to say.

“We’ve barely been seeing each other for two months! Why are you bringing that up now?” you cry in astonishment. Really, where had the come from?

“But isn’t that why our mother’s set us up? Because we’re both looking to get married? Isn’t that where this is supposed to be going? Yet, here you are. With your ex-boyfriend. Who you’ve paid more attention to than me this entire night, by the way,” Minhyuk points out. Spluttering at his words, your cheeks heat as you know you’ve been caught. The hairs on your arms stand erect, and immediately, you know that Jungkook is staring at you - but you refuse to look at him. You don’t want to see the expression on his face right now.

Instead, you decide to keep your attention directly on Minhyuk, “yes, this is where it’s supposed to be going, but-” you reply, only for Minhyuk to cut you off once again.

“But nothing. I like you, a lot. And I know we’ve only known each other two months, but I can see us having a life together. Is that not what you want? Isn’t that the reason we’re together in the first place? Do you not want to marry me? Say you’ll marry me and I’ll drop this right now,” Minhyuk finally says, his previous anger and insecurity at seeing you and Jungkook together dissipating. He levels you with his sincere gaze, the unanswered ultimatum heavy in the air.

Unable to help yourself any longer, you momentarily shift your gaze to Jungkook. It’s brief - barely a second - but it’s all you need. The utter look of despair is clearly evident on his face, a mixture of heartbreak and anguish painted so very clearly across his features. It reminds you of the day you’d broken up with him; reminds you of how he’d looked when you’d walked out on him.

Flashback - nine months ago

One lazy Sunday, you find yourself in the apartment you share with your boyfriend. The two of you are sprawled on the couch, barely dressed: Jungkook with only his boxers and socks, and you in his large t-shirt and panties. You’d both considered getting dressed, but had decided against it - especially since neither of you had any plans to leave the house. Hence, you find yourself pressed against Jungkook, your back comfortably flush against his strong chest, your head easily finding the perfect resting spot in the crook where his collarbone meets his neck.

Absentmindedly, Jungkook plays with the hem of your underwear, fiddling with elasticated lace as you scroll through Netflix. The film titles pass in a blur as you look for something to watch. Catching the attention of one title, you can't help but fixate on it for a bit. "Kook?" you call out to your boyfriend softly. You angle your head to look up at him while shifting your head onto his shoulder, so you can see him clearly. Jungkook hums non-committally as he glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

"What's up, sweetheart? Wait- if this is just to ask me if we can watch Zootropolis again, you know my answer is always yes," Jungkook says, his eyes twinkling in excitement. A light giggle escapes your lips but you shake your head.

"No. I just- we've been together five years now, yes?" you ask, turning your head back to stare at the TV. Jungkook's eyebrows furrow slightly, and he moves his head so he can better look at you.

"Yes? What about it?"

"Well-" you begin. Briefly you pause, worrying your lower lip, "do you think we'll get married?" you breathe out. Jungkook stills, the hand that had been mindlessly playing with the lace material of your underwear coming to a halt.

"What?" he asks, his chest rumbling under you.

"Well, have you thought about us getting married? Like, we've been together a while now, but I don't think we've ever really spoken about it," you sigh out. Ideally, you wanted to marry Jungkook - because, after five years, you're sure he's the one for you.

"Honestly?" Jungkook asks. Anxiousness pools in the pits of your stomach as you hear the slight trepidation in his voice. It's barely there - but you know Jungkook well enough to spot the tell-tale sign of his worriment.

"Honestly," you reiterate his statement, letting him know you want nothing but the truth.

Jungkook sighs, "honestly, I've never really thought about it," he breathes out. Immediately, you jerk, sitting up as you twist to look at him. Shifting so you're in a more comfortable position, you sit on his stomach, your thighs straddling his waist. Instinctively, Jungkook's hands fall onto your thighs. You look at him in a mixture of shock and disbelief, Jungkook returning his own expectant gaze.

"You've never thought about us getting married?" you sputter out, completely baffled by his words. How has he not thought about it? You've been together five years now. That's an awfully long time - surely, he's thought about it at some point. Not to mention, you're both twenty-seven now, almost thirty. So how has he not thought about it? You know you have. In fact, you dream about the day you walk down the aisle, Jungkook on the other side. Hell, you dream about a life with him; a family - because you know he's all you want.

"Sweetheart-" Jungkook starts, and you look pointedly at him, "listen- it's nothing to do with you. It's just, we're still young. I do love you, you know that, but I just never really thought about it," he continues. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, you cock your head in question.

"Never?" you enquire. Jungkook simply shrugging.

"Not really," comes his simple reply.

“How?” you question, looking at him in confusion. Distinctly, you remember having light conversations with Jungkook. Conversations where you’d joke about being married, conversations about your wedding or your future together.

“What do you mean how?” Jungkook asks dumbly, causing you to frown.

“I mean- I know we’ve joked about it before. I’ve mentioned wanting to get married before, I know I have,” you point out.

“Yeah… but I thought you were joking and other than that, I’ve never seriously thought about it,” Jungkook says casually. You suck in a sharp breath at his words. He hadn’t ever seriously considered it? Fear settles in your stomach at his words. You’d always just assumed you and Jungkook would eventually get married - but he hadn’t ever seriously thought about it?

"Well... do you want to get married?" you ask plainly. Jungkook smirks at you, the corners of his lips twisting into a teasing, lop-sided smile.

"Are you asking?" he jokes. However, you're in no mood to play games. This is important to you - because your boyfriend of five years just admitted that he hadn't ever considered a future with the two of you together.

"Jungkook, I'm being serious," you say - your voice is soft, yet firm. Sensing the seriousness to your tone, the smile on Jungkook's face falls and he sits up. His movement displaces you from his stomach, and you find yourself moving to sit on the couch while looking at him expressionlessly.

"____, I don't know. As I said, I've never really thought about it," Jungkook reiterates.

"Well think about it now! Do you want to get married or no?" you ask, anxiousness bubbling in your veins. This conversation certainly hasn't gone the way you had expected it to. When you'd first asked Jungkook, it had just been an off-handed question, because really, why wouldn't he have thought about getting married. Now? You're not so sure.

"I- I don't know," Jungkook mutters. Face falling in despair, you get up off of the couch and walk into your bedroom. What did he mean he didn't know? Five years. You've been together five years, and he still doesn't know? Without a second thought, Jungkook follows you into your bedroom, watching in confusion as you begin getting dressed.

"Sweetheart? Are you mad at me?" he asks, causing you to snort derisively.

"Are you really asking me that right now?" you snap in response. Jungkook reels back at the irritation in your voice.

"Why? Because I said I don't know if I want to get married? Why is that a problem? I still love you- you know that," your boyfriend argues.

"The problem isn't that you love me Jungkook. It's that you just admitted you haven't thought about our future together," you cry back. Sensing your upset, Jungkook quickly walks up to you. He places his hands on your arms, gently rubbing up and down as he cooes gently at you.

"Baby, that's not what I meant. It's just, we're still young you know? And it's not like we have to get married to each other to prove anything. I love you, and you love me, isn't that enough?" Jungkook asks softly, trying his best to placate you. Tears forming in your eyes, you shake your head and push his hands away.

"But I want to get married Jungkook. But you don't even know if you want to get married," you reply back, your bottom lip quivering. You take in a deep breath in an attempt to hold yourself together.

"But I could... maybe," Jungkook replies. Though, you both hear the clear uncertainty in his voice. His words, paired with his tone, only has your heart breaking.

"Do you? It doesn't have to be now, but do you see us getting married? A simple yes or no. That's all I'm asking for," you breathe out.

Through tear-filled eyes, you watch your boyfriend contemplate your question. One minute passes. Then two. But he's no closer to giving you your answer. With every second that passes, your anguish grows into grief-stricken distress. Multiple times, Jungkook opens and closes his mouth, and each time, hope blooms in your chest, only to die when he closes his mouth. Long, excruciating moments pass, and you all but abandon hope, when finally he says something.

"I don't know," Jungkook replies. The very moment his words ring in your ears, that small inkling of hope within your chest in crushes. A sob escapes your lips and you feel your knees buckle. Distress painted on Jungkook's face, he reaches out to comfort you, but you back away from him, causing your boyfriend to flinch.

"Will you ever know?" you whisper hopelessly.

"I don't know," comes Jungkook's answer once again.

"Then I don't know if I can do this," you whisper back. Jungkook's head snaps up to you, his eyes wide as he looks at you in disbelief.

"What? What do you mean?" he chokes out, barely able to get the words out. Throat constricting, you swallow thickly as you choke back a sob.

"I don't know if I can still do this. Jungkook, I want to get married. I want to marry you. I dream about walking down the aisle to you, I dream about children - our children. I dream about a life with you. But you-" you stop as your voice cracks with emotion. Taking a deep breath, you pull yourself together once again, "but you don't know if you even want to get married and that... that just tells me you haven't thought about our future together," you finally manage to say, your voice strained.

"We're still young. We have so much time to think about that," Jungkook argues, causing you to shake your head.

"We're twenty-seven Jungkook. We've been together for five years. That's a long time, so why haven't you ever considered us getting married? Not even moments ago you admitted that you've never thought about it. How do you think that makes me feel?" you cry.

"I don't know! It wasn't on my mind. I think about you but I- I just don't know if I want to get married. Why is that a big deal?" Jungkook asks, even as anguish colours his veins at the sight of your heartbreak.

"It's a big deal to me! It's a big deal because like I said, that's what I want!" you practically yell. Taking another deep breath, you sniffle, "I don't think I can do this," you repeat once again. Again, your voice cracks, but Jungkook despairs at the resolution in it.

"What are you saying?" he chokes out, not wanting to believe it. You can't mean it. You can't be saying what he thinks you're saying.

"I'm saying- I'm saying we should break up," you finally say. You practically have to force the words out of your mouth - because, despite everything, every fibre of your being is still in love with Jungkook - still wants to be with Jungkook. But this isn't something you think you can compromise on.

"No," Jungkook blurts out. "N-no. Please, no," he practically begs. Once again he steps up to you, and once again, you step away from him - desperately needing the distance between you. "W-why? Why can't we wait until I know? Please, why can't we wait until I'm ready?" Jungkook pleads. Sucking in a deep breath, you shake your head as you look away. You want to. You desperately want to take his word for it, want to fall into his arms and forget this conversation. But you just can't.

"I c-can't," you express, "because what if we continue for another two, or three or five years, only for you to tell me you still don't want to get married? I don't want to start all over again in my thirties, Jungkook. I don't want to be in love with your a few more years, only for you to eventually decide you still don't want to get married," you reply softly.

"But we don't know if that'll happen!" Jungkook tries arguing and this time, you turn to him. Jungkook freezes at your face, the resolute sadness in your eyes breaking his heart. His heart constricts in his chest as he sees unwavering stubbornness, mixed with heartache and sorrow, in your eyes.

"Exactly Jungkook. We don't know. If you don't know now, after five years of being together, I don't know if you'll know in another few years. And I can't take that chance," you finally utter.

"____, please don't do this. I love you," Jungkook sobs brokenly. Unable to look him in the eyes anymore - unable to stand the utter devastation written on his face - you look away.

"I'm sorry," you whisper softly.

And then, you walk away.

By the time you’re drawn out of your reverie, Jungkook is long gone. In his stead, stands Minhyuk, who looks at you expectantly. ‘Say you’ll marry me.’ Minhyuk’s voice once again rings through your head and you can’t help but feel queasy at the statement. You had broken up with Jungkook because you wanted to get married - and you do. But, is Minhyuk who you want to marry? As harsh as it is, marrying Minhyuk feels like… you’re settling - and that doesn’t sit well with you. But what do you do now? What if this was your only chance? You’re twenty-seven now and you hadn’t lied to Jungkook when you said you didn’t want to wait another five years only for things to fall apart if he decided he still didn’t want to get married.

But this doesn’t feel right.

You and Minhyuk stare at each other, Minhyuk patiently waiting for your answer. Except, you have no idea what you want to say. Your skin flushes with heat and you feel panic set into your bones while your stomach flips. Blood rushes through your ears, the sound drowning out everything else as you simply stare at Minhyuk. Though, you’re not really looking at him. No, because even now, with Minhyuk standing in front of you and Jungkook long gone, there’s only one person on your mind.

The same person who’s been on your mind the entire night.

Abruptly, Hoseok’s words ring through your head. ‘You’re strong - but you’re also smart. Smart enough to know what you want.’ Your brother’s voice plays over and over in your head - like a broken vinyl - until it’s all you can hear. Then, a spark of epiphany courses through your head, and the dawning of revelation washes over you.

You do know what you want - more than anything.

And you know what you have to do now.

It's almost two in the morning when Jungkook finds himself outside of your apartment. He doesn't know how long he's sat there, back against the wall and knees up to his chest as he stares at your flat door. After he'd left Hoseok's apartment, he found his feet walking to a bar, and after about an hour of drinking, he'd walked home. Well, he'd meant to walk home. But, somehow, in his tipsy-fogged mind, he'd automatically walked to your building and then up to your flat. A while after that, he'd just sat outside your door, contemplating whether he should knock or not. The largest part of him desperately wanted to knock - and multiple times, fueled by the courage of the alcohol - he almost had. However, each time, the smaller part of him would stop himself, unable to actually follow through. What if you'd said yes to Minhyuk? What if you didn't want to see him? What if you're with Minhyuk? Jungkook doesn't know what he'd do if he knocks, only to find Minhyuk on the other side of the door.

Head repeatedly banging against the wall behind him, Jungkook stares at the gold plated numbers of your door. With every second that passes, the alcohol in his system slowly fades away and Jungkook finds himself sobering. But still, he doesn't leave. He can't bring himself to get up and walk away. It's late enough that sleep should begin fogging his mind, but again, not knowing whether you said yes or no to Minhyuk would eat away at him - and he knows he'd be restless and unable to sleep until he finds out. Yet, he just cannot bring himself to knock. So, instead, he just sits outside your apartment. Waiting for something. Anything.

For you.

Another hour passes and you still don't come. Jungkook lets out a shuddering breath, his head falling into his hands. Mentally, he draws up a pros and cons list of knocking - and yet, each time, he scraps them all. Even with all the cons: you could be engaged to Minhyuk, you could be with Minhyuk, you could be moving on with Minhyuk; Jungkook can't help but consider the pros: you could have said no, you could be alone, you could be waiting for him. It's that last one that he dreads. There's a small chance you couldbe waiting for him and that has hope flaring in his chest. But in this situation, hope is the most crushing thing in existence - because it's only a small chance - and his hope could be crushed the minute you answer the door.

A part of him believes you had to have said to yes - you just had to have - because that's what you wanted, wasn't it? You wanted to get married. So, what reason would you have to say no? But that small, niggling voice in Jungkook head won't stop speaking - won't stop telling him that he's a reason you would have said no. Nevertheless, Jungkook knows that voice comes from his hope - and as he's mentioned - hope is the worst thing he has right now.

"You can't keep doing this, Jungkook. It's been nine months. You should move on- like she is," Jungkook mutters to himself out loud. He has no doubt that if anyone sees him, they'd think he was some sort of crazy person, but Jungkook also doesn't care. Over and over, he repeats the sentences to himself and eventually, he gets up, ready to leave.

But then he stops.

Turning back to your door, he takes in a shuddering breath, and before he can stop himself - or even rethink his spontaneous decision - he finds himself knocking. Because he desperately needs to know if he's lost you once and for all. Then, he waits again.

And still waits.

Time moves excruciatingly slowly - the seconds agonisingly passing away. Momentarily, Jungkook considers knocking again - maybe you're asleep, maybe you didn't hear him. But the adrenaline-induced courage has long since faded after he knocked, and once again he finds himself turning away.

However, then, he hears it: the clinking of a chain.

The door creaks open slowly, Jungkook sucking in a sharp breath as he spots you. You're dressed in a large hoodie - and hope flares in his chest as he recognises it. It's hishoodie. He thought he'd misplaced it a while ago - but no, apparently it was just with you. But why? Why hadn't you returned it to him?

As soon as the door is wide open, you stare in disbelief at the sight in front of you. Rubbing your blood-shot eyes, your mouth drops slightly as you realise you're not imagining it. Jungkook is standing in front of you. Why is Jungkook standing in front of you?

"J-Jungkook?" you stutter out, bewilderment heavy in your voice.

"I'm sorry," Jungkook blurts out. Taken aback by his sudden apology, your eyebrow furrows.

"W-What? Why are you sorry?" you ask, unsure of what's happening. You'd just been crying in bed - desperately wishing for Jungkook - so, when you'd opened your door only to see him, you'd thought you were dreaming. And now? Well, now you're just confused. What does he have to be sorry about?

"I made a mistake. You were right- I didn't- I never thought about our future together. I never considered getting married, or whether we'd have a family together and it's because I was comfortable. I grew comfortable in our relationship and I took it for granted. I took you for granted," Jungkook breathes out. His words fall so quickly from his lips, he practically rambles, and you really have to strain to understand his words. "After five years together, I just got so used to us. I thought I'd always have you, and so, marriage or a family didn't even cross my mind - but it should have. I should have thought about our future together. I'm sorry that I didn't, and I'm sorry that I thought about it too late," Jungkook continues. Once again, he pauses, taking a deep breath as he thinks about what to say next. But if he's being honest, he doesn't really know what else to say.

Shoulders deflating, Jungkook runs a weary hand through his hair, and suddenly, he looks more harried than you've seen him in a long time. "I'm just- I'm sorry I didn't think about it back then. I'm just sorry," Jungkook finishes lamely. There's more on the tip of his tongue: I miss you, I want you, I love you; but he can't bring himself to say them. Not when you could be happy with Minhyuk. He can't do that to you - he'd broken your heart that day - when he'd openly admitted he'd never thought about a future with you - and now, you have a chance with someone else. And he can't take that away from you, even if it breaks his heart to let you go. Left reeling by his words, they play over and over in your mind, and it takes all your brainpower to reallyunderstand them - but in your stunned daze, you don't say anything - and Jungkook doesn't know what to make of it.

So, instead, "I guess, that's what I wanted to say. I- I hope you're happy with Minhyuk," he chokes out. Sluggishly, you realise that Jungkook is walking away - and that's all it takes to restart your brain.

"W-what if I'm not happy? What would you do if I wasn't happy?" you rasp, your voice straining. Jungkook freezes at your words, his blood running cold. Then, he whips around so quickly, you fear he'd get whiplash. However, Jungkook doesn't care. Rather, his eyes swiftly rake over your face, searching for something, anything to confirm what'd he'd just heard. He finds it in your eyes; in the way they silently beg him to continue, plead with him to say everything on his mind.

Helpless under your imploring gaze, Jungkook finds his tongue unravelling as he lays his feelings at your feet. "I'd ask for a second chance. A chance to make you happy and give you what you want," Jungkook breathes out. Your eyes widen in the slightest at his proclamation.

Is he saying what you think he is?

Incredulity painted as clear as day on your face and sliver of hope evident in your eyes, Jungkook's face softens slightly. He wasn't lying - when Minhyuk had proposed the ultimatum, Jungkook had felt his heartbreak - and when he'd sat in the bar, all he could think about was you. More importantly, all he could think about was the missed opportunity. He imagined what you'd look like on your wedding day. How happy would you be? Would you look as radiantly beautiful as he imaged you to be? Would you smile in that carefree, captivating way that you did? But then, he grew maudlin - because he realised that if you did, it wouldn't be for him - and that broke his heart. It broke his heart to imagine you marrying someone that wasn't him, smiling for someone who wasn't him, creating a family with someone that wasn't him.

Nothing but sincerity in his voice, Jungkook continues, "I'd ask for you to take me back and to marry you. Because that's what I want - as long as it's with you," Jungkook finishes.

Throat clogged up with the heavy weight of your emotions, you swallow thickly, "then ask," you choke out. Your words are simple - and practically inaudible - but in the stillness of the empty corridor, and the quiet of the night, Jungkook hears it as clear as day.

"But- But what about Minhyuk?" Jungkook asks, unsure about whether he should or not. Hope flares in his chest at your words - but he doesn't want to believe them. Not yet, at least.

"Ask anyway," you simply say.

"Will you-" Jungkook begins, but the instant he opens his mouth, you're cutting him off.

"Yes," you reply - not even waiting for him to finish. It doesn't matter what he said. It doesn't matter if the words to follow are 'give me a second chance' or 'marry me' because all that matters is that he's back. All that matters is that he's willing to think about your future together - and right now, that's enough for you.

"You don't even know what I'm going to say-mpf," Jungkook begins, only to be stopped short when you pull him in for a kiss.

The instant his lips touch yours, you feel your entire body become electrified. Your veins are set afire with love, Jungkook's soft lips pressed against yours in a sweet kiss. Instinctively, Jungkook's arms wrap around your waist, his hands pulling your body flush against his as he feels you for the first time in months. You taste the same as you always have - temptingly sweet - and your body against his feels exquisite: your curves and contours fitting perfectly against his body. Sinking into this kiss, and consequently Jungkook, you sigh against his lips while you let your hands wander across his broad shoulder, before carding them into his hair.

Brief moments later, Jungkook breaks off your kiss; his forehead falling to rest against yours as he stares deeply into your eyes. His hands move to cradle your face, his thumb brushing your cheek tenderly as he lazily peppers soft kisses against your lips. Despite the softness of the moment, Jungkook can't stop wondering about Minhyuk - a sentiment he expresses to you in concern.

"I couldn't do it. I couldn't say yes," you reply, your eyes holding nothing but the truth. Jungkook's eyebrows knit together, and you find yourself giggling at the adorable expression. After a light peck against his lips, you move to rest your head against his chest, your eyes slipping shut as you feel his steady heartbeat under your ear. "I couldn't do it, because even then, you were all I could think about. I thought I wanted to get married, and I did - I do - but I realised, I didn't want to marry just anyone. I wanted to marry you," you confess. Jungkook's heart soars in his chest and helpless under your spell, he finds himself pulling you in for another kiss.

However, this time, it's different. This time, your kiss isn't slow, or soft. No, it's needier - Jungkook’s pouring out his entire heart into your kiss as he bruises his lips against you. Gasping against his lips, your fists clench around Jungkook’s leather jacket - using the material to pull him closer into you. You pull away from Jungkook’s lips, breathing heavily against his lips as you stare up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“Do you want to come in?” you breathily ask. Jungkook pauses for a moment.

“Are you sure? We don’t have to-” he begins refuting. However, you’re already pressing kisses against his jaw - lightly nipping the sensitive spot just above his Adam’s apple.

“I’m sure. I’ve missed you,” you rasp out, your voice coming out breathier than you anticipated. Jungkook’s eyes dilate at your words, and before you know what’s happening, he’s leading you into your apartment.

The both of you barely make it into your apartment, before Jungkook is slamming the door shut and pushing you up against the hard wood. Caging you between his arms, Jungkook’s lips fall upon yours again, his lips moving in a frenzied fashion this time. Instinctively, your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer into you. Jungkook lets out a soft growl against your lips before pulling away. Peppering kisses along your jaw, he trails down the column of your throat before nuzzling his face into the juncture of your shoulder.

“God- I’ve missed you,” Jungkook whispers as he breathes in your calming scent. Own hands threading into his hair, you lazily play with the locks at the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too. A lot,” you moan out as Jungkook begins to suckle bruises onto the tender flesh of your throat.

“Is that why you’re wearing my hoodie?” Jungkook asks, curiosity winning out on him. Not that you don’t look good in it - in fact, seeing you dressed in his clothing is one of Jungkook’s favourite things.

“Maybe,” you reply coyly, “what are you going to do about it?” you continue. Jungkook sucks in a sharp breath at the teasing lilt to your voice and immediately, drops to his knees. You jerk at the sudden movement, your eyes widening marginally at the sight of Jungkook on his knees.

“If this was any other time, I’d teach you a lesson. But right now, I’ve missed you too much, and you look good enough to eat,” Jungkook groans out as he runs his nose along the exposed flesh of your inner thigh. Your breath hitches at his words, Jungkook’s large hands slowly wrapping around your thighs before he parts your legs. Tenderly, his hands run up the back of your thighs, and gripping the flesh of your ass, he pulls your hips further into him.

Running his nose against the cotton of your panties, Jungkook takes in a deep breath before groaning as the heady scent of your arousal runs through his nose. He pushes his hoodie further up your hips, his lips gently tracing his way up the length of your thigh. Positioned just over your hip, Jungkook places a tender kiss above where your bone is. Then, he bites down on the waistband of your panties before slowly sliding it down your legs. When he gets to the crooks of your thighs, he lets go of it, letting the material drop to the floor.

You step out of your underwear and spread your legs - making more room for Jungkook. Gripping one of your thighs, he pulls it to rest over his shoulder, exposing your pussy to his gaze. Dark, lust-filled eyes rove over your folds, Jungkook shuddering as the scent of your arousal deepens. Your sex is slightly dewy, glistening in the low lighting of your living room. Biting his lip, Jungkook edges closer to your folds before tentatively licking a line: all the way from your core to your clit.

“Oh fuck,” you groan out, your head lolling back while one of your hands shoots out to tangle into his thick hair. Hearing your low groan, Jungkook smirks against your pussy before repeating the action. Spikes of pleasure run up and down your spine, your eyelids fluttering as you lose yourself into the pleasure he brings upon your body.

Moving one hand, Jungkook presses two fingers against the petals of your sex before parting his digits in a ‘V’ shape and consequently your folds. With your pussy exposed, Jungkook once again licks a thick line from your dripping, honeyed entrance, all the way to your engorged bud. He licks harder this time, his tongue lapping in a broad line as he gathers your heady essence onto his tongue. Your arousal bathes his tastebuds, and with his nose pressed against the hood of your clit - all he can taste, all he can breathe is you.

Soft lips wrap around your clit, Jungkook pulling the sensitive bud into his mouth before lightly suckling on it. His ministrations cause you to gasp - the sound quickly morphing into a heavy moan when his nips your throbbing clit. Tangling your fingers further into his hair, you slowly undulate your hips, pushing them further into Jungkook as you tug on his hair, trying to get him to move fast.

Sensing the urgency in your movements, Jungkook rakes his teeth over your clit in warning once again. Then, breaking away with a pop, “Be patient, darling,” Jungkook breathes out. The lusty fog of your desire rolls thickly into your head, clouding your mind and setting your flesh aflame with want and through your wanton need, you barely hear Jungkook’s words. Instead, the feel of Jungkook’s warm breath wafting over your wet folds has you shuddering in pleasure.

“Kook,” you whine needily, desperation heavy in the high pitch of your voice.

With his face buried between your thighs, you can’t see his face. But you don’t have to. You can feel the smirk on his lips. Not that you really care - because he’s currently swirling his tongue around your clit tantalisingly and subsequently driving you to the brink of insanity. Lightly, he moves the two fingers that have you spread open. You shudder at the featherlight touch, feeling him softly ghost his fingertips over the outline of your folds before circling your entrance. His touch has your core clenching, your pussy walls fluttering around his fingertips.

“Fuck- I forgot how fucking sensitive your pussy is,” Jungkook moans against your clit. His words are slightly muffled, and the vibration of his voice shoots straight from your clit to the pits of your belly. Loins heating with pleasure, you feel your stomach twist and knot as Jungkook laps kittenish licks against your clit. Teasingly, Jungkook continues circling his fingertip against your entrance, feeling the way strings of your sticky wetness drip out of you before they cling to his digit.

Drawing away from your clit, Jungkook slowly pulls his finger away; his throat drying as he watches the thin, filmy strings of your arousal drip from your pussy and onto his finger. The thick rivulets stretch as he pulls away - and the moment one of them snaps - Jungkook is unable to stop himself from pressing his head back between your thighs. Tongue plunging into your core, his swirls his wet appendage around your cunt, groaning as thick streams of arousal drip onto his tongue.

“Oh fuck- Kook,” you mewl, your head falling back and hitting the door with a light thud. The pain barely registers in your mind, your eyes rolling into the back of your skull as your pussy flutters around his tongue. Helpless against your needy whine, Jungkook pushes two fingers into your depths, your body jerking at the sudden intrusion as you tug at his hair reflexively. Twisting his fingers into you, Jungkook pumps his digits in and out, relishing in the feel of your silken, pulsating walls around his appendages as he continues eating you out - almost ravenously.

Gripping his locks tightly, you gyrate harder into his mouth. Waves of pleasure flit over your skin, your blood boiling with ecstasy as you feel the warmth in your belly begin to heat up. When Jungkook spreads your entrance using his fingers, his tongue plunging deeper into you, you let out a cry of pleasure. God, you’d forgotten just howgood Jungkook’s mouth was. Mouth and throat running dry, you swallow thickly before panting out his name over and over again. The once dull warmth begins burning your loins; searing, white-hot pleasure running up and down your flesh, your skin prickling with goosebumps as you feel your orgasm approaching.

“Please-” you groan out, the guttural sound intermingling with the wet, sloppy sounds of Jungkook eating you out. Thighs quivering against his ears, Jungkook pushes his fingers deeper into you. Expertly, he finds the sweet spot inside you, his fingers crooking at the knuckle as he strokes the spongy spot. Reflexively, your hand tugs his hair harshly while your knees buckle under the euphoria of your approaching orgasm.

“Are you cumming, baby? You wanna cum on my tongue?” Jungkook taunts, a teasing lilt to his voice. Swallowing thickly, it’s all you can do to simply rasp out his name. Knowing he has you on the verge of ecstasy, Jungkook doubles his efforts - his fingers pistoning inside you quicker as he wraps his wet lips around your clit.

“God, your pussy tastes so fucking good. I missed you - missed the way your pretty little pussy feels around my tongue,” Jungkook grunts out. Another whine of pleasure escapes your lips, your hips jolting into his face when the pads of his finger stroke your g-spot.

“Cumming-” you gasp out, your voice cracking under the pleasure.

“Then cum baby- cum all over my tongue. I wanna taste you- wanna drink you up,” Jungkook urges. The filthiness of his words, paired with the way he harshly sucks your clit, instantly has you cumming.

A loud mewl escaping your lip, you whine out his name. Your eyes roll back into your skull, your visions filled with white spots as your orgasm ricochets through you. Feeling you come undone above him, Jungkook rips his fingers out of you, his hands gripping your flesh and fingers digging into your skin as he holds your violently trembling thighs. The scent of your arousal thickens deeply, and Jungkook watches with dilated eyes as thick ropes of cum drip out of your cunt and down your thighs.

Placing his lips against your entrance, Jungkook slurps at your cum, swallowing it thickly and relishing in your taste. You whine out his name, your knees buckling from the power of your orgasm - and if it weren’t for Jungkook’s strong grip, you’re sure you’d drop to the floor. Gasping for air, you slowly come down from the high of your orgasm, Jungkook patiently waiting for you to descend down to reality.

Tenderly, your boyfriend places affectionate kisses along the length of your thigh, softly cooing at you while he whispers sweet nothings against your flesh. A soft smile tugs at your lips and you untangle your fingers from their vice-like grip on his locks. Instead, you softly play with the strands, marvelling at their silk-like texture. Jungkook always had beautiful hair, but with how long it is currently, you can reallyadmire it.

“Kook- want you,” you mew. Jungkook chuckles at the soft neediness in your voice.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Jungkook says before he gathers you in his arms. Gently, he brings you to the floor with him. Still swimming in the haziness of your orgasm, you feel Jungkook swiftly divest himself off his clothing, until he’s left naked. Once done, Jungkook gathers you into his arms once again. He shifts you so your thighs are straddling his, your body propped against his strong chest as his back rests against the door to your apartment.

Unable to help yourself, you rest your head against his shoulder, your hands indolently running over his skin as you finally feel him under your touch. You trace every muscle of his upper body - from the corded flesh of his biceps, to the taut skin of his abdomen; and then towards his broad, defined shoulders. Jungkook’s arms wrap around your waist, his hands running up the hem of his hoodie and flitting up your skin before he divests you off the article of clothing - leaving you both naked.

Shuddering at the feel of the night’s crisp air against your skin, you snuggle closer into Jungkook’s warmth, letting his presence wash over you. “I missed you,” you mumble against his skin. Jungkook’s face softens and he nods, his head dropping so he can press a kiss to your shoulder. His long hair tickles your skin and you relish in the featherlight touch.

Not wanting to wait any longer - and more than desperate to feel him inside of you - you flex your thighs, picking yourself up. One hand feels out for Jungkook’s cock, and easily finding the shaft, you grip the base before pressing it against your entrance. Feeling the bulbous head push against your entrance, you let out a soft whine before slowly descending down onto him. Slowly, he spreads out your walls, his thick girth stretching you out for the first time in months. It’s been a while since you’ve had Jungkook and the sheer size of him has a dull pain stinging at your pussy walls - but you don’t mind so much. No, in fact, you cherish it - because you’d sorely missed how transcendent he’d felt stretching out your pussy to its brim.

“Oh fuck- God, you’re so fucking tight. You feel so good,” Jungkook groans out, his cock twitching with every inch he sinks into you. Jungkook’s arms wrap around you, holding your naked chest flush against his as you continue your descent onto his cock. When he finally bottoms out, his balls resting just under your ass, you let out a little whimper, your fingers clawing into his shoulder.

“You good, baby?” Jungkook asks, his lips skimming the outline of your collarbone.

“Yeah- you feel- so good,” you gasp out. Jungkook gives you a couple of moments to adjust to the feel of him - and then, he’s gripping your hips before lifting them up for you. You cry out in pleasure as you feel his cock retreat out of you, only for Jungkook to thrust upwards, plunging the entire length of his shaft.

The two of you begin moving in tandem with each other: Jungkook helping you move on top of him while simultaneously impaling his cock into you. With every one of his movements, you feel pleasure run through your veins. Every time he plunges the entirety of his cock inside of you, you let out short gasps, your toes curling in pleasure. Moving slowly, you take the time to simply feel each other - the ardent fire of your lust and love burning bright in the pits of both your bellies as you sink into unadulterated pleasure.

Your slow, sensual pace continues for a little while longer - but you can slowly feel Jungkook’s desperation increasing with each thrust. His hands begin wandering over your hips and around to hold your ass. Fingers digging into the soft flesh, he grips your ass tightly before bouncing you harder ontop of him. Need fills his every movement - Jungkook’s thrusts becoming rougher. You bounce on top of him, your entire body shaking as Jungkook thrusts harder and harder into you. Changing the angle of his hips, Jungkook plunges his cock against your sweet spot, the head of his cock brushing it with every impalement of his hips.

“I’m cumming, baby,” Jungkook warns. Not that he really needs to, you can feel his cock throb erratically inside you, twitching every now and then as your walls clench rhythmically around his shaft - massaging his entire length.

“Cum, baby. Cum in me. Wanna feel you deep in me,” you say softly, your hands softly massaging his shoulders. Jungkook lets out a little groan, pulling your hips harder down onto him as he tries to push his cock as deep as he can into you.

“Cum with me. Play with yourself. Wanna feel you cum around my cock,” Jungkook urgers, and you find yourself growing wetter at the authority present in his voice. Unable to deny him anything, you twist one arm between your body and begin expertly playing with your clit. The additional pleasure has you crying out in ecstasy. All of a sudden, you feel heat rush through your veins, your lips parting in a silent scream as you cum for a second time.

Feeling your walls clamp around him tightly, paired with the gushing of your cum around his cock, Jungkook let’s out a little groan. “Oh fuck,” he moans. Then with two stilted thrusts, he plunges his cock as deep as he can into you before cumming with a soft roar. His cock twitches inside your walls before he shoots rope after rope of hot cum inside you. You groan at the feel of his warmth, your toes curling in pleasure as the base of your spine tingles.

Jungkook holds you to him tightly, clutching your body to his as you both gasp and pant for air. The haziness of your euphoric high slowly abates, until you’re both left clinging to each other. Eventually, the white spots in your vision clear and you slowly pull away from him. You take in the sight of Jungkook, completely spent and sweat-soaked locks clinging to his forehead. Hearing you giggle, Jungkook opens one eye to peek at you.

“Stop laughing at me,” he pouts. Once again, you giggle at him, and then let yourself fall against him. Exhaustion weighs down your muscles and you find yourself snuggling into Jungkook’s chest, sleep already replacing the lust-filled fog that clouds your head.

“I can’t help it if you’re so cute,” you mumble sleepily. Jungkook bites his lips, lightly snorting through his nose. However, he simply doesn’t have the energy to argue with you. Instead, he sits quietly while attempting to catch his breath.

Eventually, he decides he’s had enough of a rest - but when he turns to you, you’re already deeply asleep, a small smile on your lips. Tenderly, Jungkook tuts, but there’s no real ire in it. Gathering you in his arms, he picks you up, wincing when his muscles protest the movement. Ignoring the pain, he carries you into your bedroom before gently depositing under the cover.

Fatigue quickly overcomes him, and it’s all Jungkook can do to not collapse beside you. Holding off, however, he manages to sluggishly pull himself under the cover. Once under the thick sheets, Jungkook shifts closer to you before he pulls you into his arms. You’re both sticky - your skin covered in a light sheen of perspiration - and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but Jungkook doesn’t care.

He’d be damned if he spent one more night without you in his arms.

a/n: owo i hope you enjoyed it! please don’t forget to tell me what you thought 🥺

⇥ Masterlist

[alyssadeliv]

The Forgotten One

First      Previous

Chapter 5

Ladybug and Chat Noir made their debut on a sunny Monday of September. Just as her master had feared that intense energy they felt was only the beginning. Hawkmoth started his reign of terror, releasing his akumas on unsuspecting civilians, using their strong negative emotions, and creating his champions. It was a vile move, attacking someone when they were vulnerable. But Marianne had to admit that he was good. She was trained to do exactly the same thing, to manipulate and exploit someone’s weakness, but at least she had the decency to never use her abilities for personal gain unless extremely necessary. She was a soldier, everything she did was by the order of someone. Her whole training so far had been preparing her for this moment. 

So when Stonehart appeared, she was ready. 

She knew everything she needed to do, she had been trained since birth for this. Her Master was confident that she had what it took to take down these akumatized people, and allied with the one he had chosen to wield the Cat Miraculous they would be unstoppable. He didn’t tell her the identity of the person he has chosen, but she knew he wouldn’t. For safety reasons, only the Grand Guardian would know the identities of the wielders. But she didn’t need to know his identity in order to work with him. 

Chat Noir surprised her a lot. She knew he couldn’t possibly have the same training she had, but he still knew how to fight. He’s trained in fencing from what she can tell by his style of fighting, and he’s very good. After some time they became the perfect duo, always in synchrony and ready for anything. It’s nice to have someone on her side, in the League she mostly acted alone, so having someone that had her back full time was new. 

It took two years to defeat Hawkmoth. In those two years that she lived in Paris, a lot changed. First was her name. In order to live completely off the radar of the League, she needed a new name. They had lost contact with the League after the attack, so they never discovered what exactly happened, or who won in the end. She was glad the Mayor of Paris decided that it would be better to ban any rumors of a supervillain in the city from the outside world, fearing that that would cause the tourism to diminish. That allowed her some security, but one could never be too careful, the League was known to have spies everywhere. So she changed her name. In the documents that her godmother forged, she was called Marinette Dupain but preferred to be called Mari because that was closer to her real name. Daughter of a kind baker and his traveler wife, her backstory was that she spent most of her childhood traveling the world with her mother, but now her parents decided that it would be good for her to stay in the same place for more time. She would be homeschooled by Sabine, which was enough for social security to allow her to be kept from attending school. It was kind of funny that she lived so close to a school but didn’t study there. 

Another thing that changed was that for the first time she had people she could rely on. Before it was only Damian. He was the only one that she ever told about her fears and insecurities, confiding in him was something she missed in those years apart. They were very close before the attack, and after two long years of thinking she was dead, she wasn’t sure what would happen when they finally reunited. But she hoped it would go well.

When she first transformed, she felt invincible. It was something she would never forget, feeling that kind of power was memorable. It was normal for the suit to incorporate traits of your personality, but it still was a surprise when she saw herself as Ladybug for the first time. She wore a black skin-tight suit that covered her entire body from the neck down, in her torso making the illusion a corset, a part of the suit was red with black spots. She also had boots and a jacket to complement her look, also in red with dots. Her hair tied back in a ponytail was rather practical and allowed her better motion. On her right leg strapped to her tight was a knife holster with a small dagger that served for surprise attacks, her specialty. Around her waist was where she tied her yoyo when she wasn’t using it. To conceal her identity, she wore a domino mask also in red.

In the beginning, she wanted to use another name for her superheroine self, one that paid tribute to her Arabic roots, but Master Fu thought it better to go with a more generic name, that way it would be harder to obtain any type of information about her. In the end, she relented and went with Ladybug. 

When Ladybug and Chat Noir first appeared, most of Paris newspapers and tabloids started to question the origin of their superheroes. Some believe them to be aliens, which her Master thought hilarious. Others were certain they were metahumans, born with their powers, and their Miraculous just served as an amplifier, and Hawkmoth wanted all Miraculous to increase his power to the maximum level, in Mari’s case they were partially right about the part of the powers. The one that came closer to the truth was the writer of the Ladyblog, the amount of research she had was impressive for someone so young. She discovered that the Miraculous were older than they thought, dating back all the way to the ancient Egyptian Empire, other than that she was way off. She had this theory that the Miraculous holders were a group of immortal entities that always appeared in ties of need, but recently one of them must have gone bad, tired of centuries in hiding, and the others are trying to defeat them and restore peace. It was a good theory that had some truth behind it, but still very exaggerated. It didn’t help that Ladybug was obviously experienced and that only served to fund this theory even more.

It became a game for Ladybug and Chat Noir to find the funniest theories and share them during patrol. Chat was really good in that, normally he just asked one of his friends what they thought. Mari, not having friends to ask just bought stuff the media printed. These kinds of games helped them relax a little after a tiring battle.  

After two years of fighting evil forces, it was impossible for the two superheroes not to be close. Their kind of relationship always reminded Mari of her brother, and she often felt guilty for not being able to reach him. But that only motivated her more in defeating Hawkmoth. Only then she would be able to leave Paris. 

Living in Paris was nice, for the first time in her life she created a routine for herself. She had training with Master Fu in the mornings and she helped at the bakery during the afternoons. Every other day there would be an Akuma attack and she would step into her role as Ladybug. Other than that her life became pretty calm compared to what it was at the League. She even got the time to explore her creative side, drawing and sewing became her favorite hobbies.

But nothing ever stays the same for long, not for her. 

It was about one year and a half after the attack on the League, just as her Master was getting close to discovering the exact location of origin of the source of evil energy. They knew the owner of the Butterfly Miraculous knew how to read energies, being that what alerted him of the Ladybug Miraculous being activated after Mari was brought back from the dead, but they weren’t expecting him to be able to track them. Her Master energy was easier to locate, even with him being the Grand Guardian, because of his old age. 

To this day she wasn’t sure what exactly happened, only that one afternoon she felt as if the energy around shifted and became unbearable. Fearing the worst she went to her Master in search of guidance, but when she was nearing his house she saw him. Hawkmoth in the flesh. Around him were five Akumas previously defeated.

He was at a rooftop engaging Master Fu, who at the time had already transformed with the Turtle Miraculous, in a heated duel. At the side was Mayura, trying to reach the Miraculous Box that was secured inside a green dome. Not wasting one minute she transformed in a nearby alley and went into action attacking the Peacock wielder. She was ruthless in her blows, never leaving space for the other woman to attack. Chat Noir arrived a couple of minutes later and went for the akumatized people, but at that point it was already too late. Master Fu knew that would be his last day on earth, he didn't have the strength to fight and maintain the Box inside the safety dome, so he did the only thing he thought possible. He relinquished his position as the Grand Guardian of The Miraculous to Ladybug. 

The box immediately disappeared from the dome and appeared in Mari’s arms. Without wasting a second she used her hidden weapon and stabbed her opponent in the thigh in order to subdue her. Her cries of pain were enough to attract Hawkmoth's attention from Chat Noir, with whom he had just engaged in battle. He immediately went to comfort his partner, using his champions as a barricade to protect them. He escaped. Or rather Mari let him escape. Because she couldn't stop looking at her Master’s body. He was dead. Died protecting the Miraculous. Inside her she felt some piece of her break. Death wasn’t new for her, but it felt surreal to believe the man that saw her grow and taught her almost everything she knew was dead. But there was no time to mourn, a soldier only mourned after the war, and this war was far from being over. But at that moment, looking at the lifeless body of her Master she made a vow to herself. 

She would not rest until Hawkmoth perished.

And she would make sure that before he did, it hurt

Next

Another fresh capther for all of you. To be honest I had planned this chapter to be compleatly different, but I was inspired and just lost myself, and when I realised I couldn’t finish this chapter anyother way. Hope you all liked it! Fell free to leave a comment with your theories of what’s going to happen next! (Also, the taglist still open)

WARNING: Major character death; description o violence.

Ladybug suit was inspired by this drawing from Eden Daphne 

Taglist:  @macncheesemonster @jumpingjoy82 @silversaphire12 @jinx-jade @swiftie-miraculer13  @greatcatblaze @megaafangirl @ramos123 @theamityislife @maskedpainter @toodaloo-kangaroo @nyx-in-line @ketchupqueenboiiii @blackroserelina @lozzybowe @user00000003 @kashlyn @msshadows97 @ira-sairain @stackofrandomstuff @myazael @frieddonutsweets @asrainterstellar @our-preciousss @laurcad123 @nyaabinch @rverfades @thefangirlwholiterallydies @astoriaandromeda @unnamed2357 @little-lady-bird @imdaqueenie @meismu @dorkus-minimus @a4-machete @arty-shadow-morningstar @catthhay @sizzling-fairy-oil @poodapup @charme-de-malchan @jayjayspixiepop @fusser90 @adrestar @iloontjeboontje @buginetye @macncheesemonster

[annabtg]

RE: Your last post. I couldn’t write fiction for years (never mind put it out into the world) because of the very same reasons. In fact, the likelihood of me realising I hate everything I’ve written lately and deleting it from my account is high.

However, I do want you to know that I enjoy reading your work, at its best and at its most flawed. Can writing ever be perfect? I don’t know, but I haven’t seen it yet.

Anyway, what I supposed I’m trying to say is that I love the way your writing has made me feel, and the questions it has made me ask in life. Some of the greatest works of literature this world has ever produced have failed to evoke that response in me. And you shouldn’t be ashamed of taking a long time to put things out — because it is that dedication to honing in your craft that has raised your writing to that standard. But I also want you to know that the imperfect stuff is great too.

I know your post wasn’t asking for sympathy or praise, but just a reveal of how you feel. Nonetheless, I just want you to know that your writing has an impact, warts and all.

*speechless*

I am honestly floored that my writing has had such an impact on you as to make you ask questions in life??

It's true that some of my pieces come from very personal spaces within me and carry my experiences and struggles... Still, I am happy enough to use them to create something that makes sense (as in, create believable characterizations etc.) and is enjoyable to read. Aiming to evoke a sentimental response from the reader is something I hardly dare hope for and it's such a lovely feeling when someone says they were touched by something I wrote!

Not to be modest - there's nothing I'd want more than to make a name for myself, for people to remember my stories and seek my writing out. But first and foremost, I want to be true to myself - not write to write, or to get readers, but because I am creating something that I love and speaks to me, and tells the things I want it to say.

Re: the first part of your message. I don't know what you may mean by "lately" but at least The Other Half is a wonderfully done story and honestly one of the reasons my post came about - because your A/N made me realize you're writing as you go and damn?? That quality (and amount!) of writing done in mere days is simply incredible! I can't tell you how to feel about your own writing, but I can tell you that I admire your skill. :)

Thank you so much for this lovely message, it means the world!

[stopeatingwhales]

"i'll never leave you again," x graham coxon

this is so sad but so cute *sobs* </3<3

Pairing: 90s graham coxon x reader

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.639

Requested by anon x

༉‧₊˚✧

Embracing my boyfriend in a much-needed hug, I squeezed him tightly whilst the wind from the outside flew into our house due to the door still being wide open, making both me and Graham practically freeze in our grasp within one another. My fingers softly ran through his lengthy brown locks as I took in his scent: cigarettes and aftershave, doused with a hint of alcohol. The aroma was intoxicating, not only giving me the crave of a cigar, but also reminding me of the pure amount of desperation I carried inside myself of needing to be with him, embracing him, once again. “I missed you so much.” I mumbled into his shoulder, my cheek squashed on the fabric of his polo shirt which clung to his torso, enveloping his lanky figure. Detaching my head away from the crook of his neck, I took a hold of his hands, which were cold as ice, and stared deeply into his eyes, the spheres of deep brown, not wanting the seemingly perfect moment to vanish into the memory bank hidden in my brain. I felt fulfilled with him in my presence, directly in front of me; I had longed for a simple moment like this more than I thought, for things never came easy between us. For the past year, it was as if our relationship was a distant memory - with him being on tour visiting almost every country known to man, performing countless amounts of shows per week, accompanied by him practically living at the recording studio, I had hardly been with him, and had hardly attained the knowledge of who he was anymore. We barely spoke, and our conversations ran dry consistently, paired with the fact that phone calls abroad were very costly. As well as that, I seemed to be receiving the short end of the stick with regards to my job as I was forced to work overtime due to many people taking vacations from their jobs, something that I could have done, but was my only distraction from the live that I had began to lead: isolated, with my boyfriend practically nowhere to be found.

“Let’s get inside, it’s freezing out here,” he mumbled into my hair, removing one hand from mine to grab the suitcase adjacent to his body. We held hands as we walked through the hallway, him dropping his bag by our bedroom door as I pushed the front door to allow it to slam shut into the latch, our desperate need for physical contact proving our true feelings towards how horrible this year had been for us. Once we were able to sit down on the sofa together in the living room, I immediately lifted my body onto Graham’s lap whilst I pulled the blanket left on the sofa over our bodies. “How’ve you been, love?” he asked me, his voice soft, almost as if he knew how fragile my mental state was at that moment. His free hand was caressing my spine gently, causing my body to shiver slightly as I melted into his touch - as it had been a while since me and Graham had been in personal contact with one another, my body had forgotten the blissful sensation of his touch, which made a feeling of melancholy pop up in my mind, contrasted against the pleasure of utmost joy that he was finally in my presence.

“I’ve been okay…” I mumbled, a lie solely spoken out loud as if to convince myself that I had been fine, that the constant feeling of longing and separation were mere ideations conjured up in my mind, to make myself think that I was broken, when I wasn’t. Fixing my gaze at the stripes on his top, I let my fingers outline them over his chest, my eyes beginning to feel heavy as I felt tears prick up in my eyes, the thought of him needing to leave again overwhelming my mind. The simple thought caused my heart to once again break into pieces as if it were a glass cup that had been accidentally dropped from someone’s grip, smashing into chunks of sharp glass that would instantly cut into your skin if you attempted to pick them up, all the emotions that I had pent up and attempted to dissolve through heaps of work finally leaving my body. “I don’t want you to leave again.” I whispered, letting tears slowly escape my eyes as I gazed at my lap. I felt like a little child, not wanting to leave her parents as she had to go to her first day at school, the apprehension of going out into the ‘real world’ for the first time in her life coming across as a thought unimaginable as an experience. The anxiety of separation from him made me feel small, pathetic, as if I should’ve been able to control my emotions and not let them get so out of hand like this. Though, an apartment bought for two was never designed for one person to live in; a couple is not stemmed from one person being in love with themselves - unless you’re a narcissist.

“Oh dear, I’m not going to leave you again,” he replied, his voice cracking slightly as he saw the state that I was in. The entire situation seemed like that of a film; the intense atmosphere almost perceived the emotions felt to be false, and that this whole occurrence was simply unreal as if it were a nightmare occurring the night before he had actually returned home. Pulling me closer to his body, he cradled me in his arms, my head resting on his shoulder once again as he grasped both my hands, bringing them each, individually, to his lips, placing delicate but deep kisses on my palms. The feeling of his soft lips connecting with the skin of my hand lingered through my body as I was still getting properly adjusted to his companionship. Afterwards, he brought his index and middle finger up to my cheeks, caressing my tear-stained cheeks as a method of wiping my face dry from the mournful state my mind had been perpetuated in. The only sounds dancing around the room were the noises caused from my constant sniffling, my fingers finding Graham’s hands once again to bring into a tight hold. “Come on, let’s watch a film.”

Shifting my body off of Graham’s lap to allow him to get up and turn the DVD box on, I admired how much effort he was trying to put into comforting me. “Here, take a pick.” he said, handing me the stack of films that we had collected over the years. Taking my mind off of the sadness that had erupted out of my body, I skimmed through the covers to remind myself of the memories we had connected with each film. Once my fingers landed upon the cover of Dirty Dancing, my mind instantly flushed back to the memory of when I forced Graham to watch it with me. You’re going to love this film Graham, trust me. I don’t get why you’re making me watch this, it’s overrated. Because you love me. Yeah, because I love you.

After a couple minutes had passed with Graham not being present in the room, I heard his footsteps slowly making their way through the hallway and back into the living space, where I had been greeted with the sweet aroma of hot chocolate, made by him. “For you, love,” he said, carefully handing me the warm mug, followed by my thanks, before setting down his cup of tea on the coaster placed on the coffee table. “Which one did you pick?”

“Dirty dancing, because I know how much you love Swayze.” I joked, handing the DVD to him as I placed the other films on the floor beside the couch. A playful groan escaped his throat as he inserted the disc into the player.

“When was the last time we saw it?” he asked whilst making his way back to the sofa. He sat back in his original place, sneaking an arm around my waist to be able to pull me onto his lap so I could lay down. Looking up at him, I smiled sweetly as our eyes connected as I realised just how much of a good person he was, how caring he was, and especially how much he meant to me. I doubt that I would ever be able to have a complete and utter understanding of my adoration towards one singular man, but I assume that is the beauty of love. Unconditional, never ending. If you were able to completely understand your tenderness for a person, it wasn’t true love. True love is being able to handle and stick with one another through thick and thin, through all the suffering and pain, to reach that level of enlightenment where you can both spend your lives in complete bliss as the money from your pension’s tumble into your bank accounts. It meant that the idea of growing old with your significant other was an awaiting desitiation, something that proved nothing but commitment and that the person you were with, is indeed the person that you would spend your last minutes with.

“I think when we first moved in here together,” I replied, taking a sip from the warm beverage cradled in my palms. “So, about three years ago.”

“That long ago? Wow,” he replied, also taking a sip from his drink. “You ready?”

Nodding my head at him, I watched as he pressed play on the remote, the intro music beginning to play through the speakers. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied, pulling the blanket to cover my body, just like I had done earlier. “I promise that I’ll never leave you again.”

[manonblaqkbeak]

How We Met

here it is, my last fic for rowaelin month! thank you so much to everyone that’s read, liked and commented on my fics, it’s been so much fun reading and writing these last four weeks! i’m glad to know that i’m not the only one that is in dire need of more rowaelin content (srsly, i would pay sjm a truck load of money for a strictly rowaelin book bc i miss them sm)

here’s part 4 for the little series i had going on. i was so tempted to make this an angst piece but held back lol.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

cw: none

1.8k words

enjoy and thank you again!!! :) 💕💕💕💕

Gathering the ingredients for the cake that she and Ophelia were going to make for Rowan, Aelin plopped them down on the kitchen counter and tied her and her six year old daughters hair back. Even in the kitchen light, Ophelia's hair was a vivid shade of silver and when she turned to look at her mother, the golden ring in her eyes were just as bright.

“Up, mama!” Ophelia asked, pointing to the step ladder that Olive made for her little sister in her woodshop class at school. Getting it off from atop the fridge, Aelin and Ophelia started their baking session for today. It wasn't often that Aelin baked cakes from scratch but it wasn't every day that her firstborn turned sixteen—not that Aelin could really comprehend that her Olive was sixteen—but Aelin wanted to do this for her, wanted to make something special.

She hoped that it wasn't going to taste as bad as the last cake she baked. Rowan had been sick afterwards and didn't go to work the next day.

That was five years ago, so surely with gaining wisdom as people said when others got older, her baking skills grew too.

“Where did everyone go?” Ophelia asked, her little tongue poking out as she helped Aelin sift the flour.

“To get dinner for tonight. We're having Ollie's favourite.” Which was cuisine from the Southern Continent, there was a restaurant that specialised in the spicy food, and Aelin couldn't wait—she and Rowan often tried to recreate their favourite recipes, but it was never right, so Olive wanted to have the genuine stuff for her birthday and not her parents shoddy attempts.

Not that Aelin could blame her.

They continued making the chocolate cake, Ophelia babbling on about her day at school, when her little one asked, “How did you and papa meet?”

Aelin blinked at the sudden question, but answered it nevertheless. “At the grocery store.”

Ophelia furrowed her brows, and with the way her nose scrunched up, she looked so much like Rowan that it made her heart sing. When Aelin first realised that she was pregnant, she was nervous, they had only been married for seven months and while they spoke about having a child of their own, she didn't think it would happen so quickly—but Rowan's enthusiasm melted away her fears. She would never forget his tears of joy when she showed him the pregnancy test, his beaming smile when they heard her heartbeat for the first time. Aelin would walk through hell, as long as Rowan was by her side, or waiting for her at the end.

It wasn't always perfect, however, they had their ups and downs like every long-term couple, they had moments where it felt like they were walking on tightrope, either because of their own personal issues or marriage issues, or when Egan was fourteen and completely lashed out at Aelin, accusing her of replacing his mother—but she worked with her son, telling him that she had never intended to do that, that Lyria would always be the woman that brought him into the world, and that Aelin was raising him. Her heart broke in two at his pain, but she understood, he grew up with photos and stories of Lyria.

Or when they had the awkward conversation when Olive was eleven and asked why she didn't look like Rowan, and Aelin had explained her story, about Sam being her biological father, but he had given them space for Rowan to raise her instead. That had lead to brooding silences and confusion, but otherwise, Olive still saw Rowan as her dad, but she did ask from time to time about Sam, what he was like and what he was doing (the last update Aelin received from him via email that his wife was pregnant with their second child. Aelin was so happy for him that he was able to have a family, a feat that was made easier since Arobynn had been dead for years by this point) and that she would like to meet him properly one day; Aelin had kept that to herself, not wanting to tell Sam in case Olive changed her mind—Aelin hoped that she wouldn't.

Overall, their life together was what she needed, she went to bed each night loved and fulfilled. It was better than what she might have had with Chaol all those years ago, she was fairly certain that if she had married him, it wouldn't have been a long marriage.

“How did you meet at the food store?” Ophelia asked, her brow still furrowed as she and Aelin stirred the cake batter. It surprisingly smelled good.

“I needed something from a high shelf,” Aelin said, “and I couldn't reach it. Your papa was only a few feet away from me, so I asked him to get it for me.” She might have also subtly ogled him as his shirt exposed his tanned skin, and Aelin had damned near swooned at the sight of his six pack.

“Did you get married at the food store?”

Aelin laughed at the question. “No, we got married at the beach. And then you arrived not long afterwards.” Sometimes they wanted another, but things financially were going so well that they didn't want to jeopardise that by adding another mouth to feed.

“Can you have another wedding?” Ophelia asked, looking at her mum with wide eyes. “So I can go? Please?”

“I'll talk to your daddy about it, but I like the sound of that.” Kissing her daughters forehead, they continued. Just as they were putting the cake in the oven and the icing mix in the fridge, the front door opened and three booming voices infiltrated the house and the mouth watering goodness of food.

Aelin's eyes widened at the amount of food that Rowan piled on the table. It looked like they were feeding a small army and not a family of five.

Ophelia helped her older brother set the table, Egan ruffing her hair as he recounted their little adventure to the restaurant.

As they sat down, Aelin mentioned Ophelia's request. Rowan pretended to mull it over as their daughter pleaded, giving her best puppy dog eyes. It didn't take for Rowan to relent—he really had trouble saying no to her—saying that a second wedding was a great idea.

Ophelia squealed in delight and squealed even more when food was placed in front of her (she was very much like Aelin in that regard).

“How did the conversation of another wedding start?” Rowan asked as they all started eating.

“Phia here wanted to know how we meet.”

Olive snorted. “Yes, the ever romantic story of meeting in the toilet paper aisle.”

“It was not the toilet paper isle!” Aelin protested. “It was the cereal aisle.”

“At least you kids have inherited my manners,” Rowan said, “your mother didn't even ask nicely. She just came over to me and said, 'You're tall, could you get that box for me?'” It had taken him a moment to realise he had been spoken to, too focused on deciding what box of porridge to get when Aelin showed up, wearing a faded band shirt and shorts, pointing to the box of cereal that had far too much sugar to be healthy. He had said 'yes' because it was the nice thing to do, and had stayed behind, talking to her for so long in the aisle that his vanilla ice cream had started to melt.

It was the best decision in his life back then, he never thought he would have gained a friend in the grocery store—and that the friend would become his wife.

“I have manners. I said, 'Excuse you' first before I told you what I needed.”

“That's not really using manners there, ma,” Egan said, smiling as poked her tongue out. He looked so much like Lyria that it was almost scary—he still loved flowers and plants too, and was currently studying to become a florist and then one day horticulture. The backyard was full of flowers and plants thanks to him, making into a little wonderland instead of the barren plain it used to be.

“I did say 'thank you' afterwards.”

“You said 'thanks',” Rowan interjected, laughing as Aelin threw a chunk of her flatbread at his head. Ophelia's cute laughter rent through the air.

“It's the same thing!”

“If you say so, love,” Rowan muttered, his lips twitching. Aelin rolled her eyes in the dramatic way Rowan was used to, but he saw the mirth behind the movement.

“Like I said Phie, it's very romantic,” Olive said drily, sounding very much like Rowan. She had even inherited his scowl, which she was wearing now as she sniffed at the air. “Is something burning?”

Aelin had never run so fast as she did right then, the kitchen filling with smoke as she took in the blackened cake. Swearing viciously under her breath, Aelin chucked the cake into the bin, apologising to Olive as she did so.

“It's okay, mum, dad got me an ice-cream cake earlier today anyway.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at her husband, who simply gave her an innocent smile in answer.

Rejoining her family, they talked well into the night, helping Aelin to forget her failed baking attempt. Ophelia asked more questions about their time in the grocery store and how that moment lead to friendship, to pining for the other without realising it, to a life together.

And to think, Aelin almost didn't go to the grocery store that day.

Rowan thanked the gods that he had remembered at the last moment that he had no porridge left, otherwise, he might not have met Aelin at all. Might not have had this life, this family. Part of him would always be sad that things had gone so wrong with Lyria, and he would always miss and love her. But he learned in therapy that it was good to have a life, and Rowan was glad that he heeded that advice.

He thanked the gods all the time.

And thank the rutting gods he did right now for the umpteenth time that Aelin deemed him tall enough to get her food for her, to stay in that aisle with him as they got to know each other.

Rowan was a very happy man indeed as he and Aelin went to bed that night, the smiles still on their faces at Olive's unrestrained joy at the sight of the car they spent weeks looking at second-hand dealerships at, hunting for the perfect car for their daughter.

Thank the rutting gods for all those moments in the past, present, and future.

Rowan couldn't wait to marry her again, and neither could Aelin.

Life was good.

[tehrevving]

Stop and Stall What’s Safe

When a stray bullet ricochets, Dante doesn't know how to save you. With a last ditch effort, he remembers how the bruises on your skin used to heal after sex, and just prays that it works.

Dante x Reader (Reader is neutral but can get pregnant), Gunshot wounds, Angst, Masturbation.

I had a little bit to drink, and was in mood. So this is like, angst but with a crack premise.

I don't know what to say about this apart from that Reader gets shot, Dante doesn't know what to do and ejaculates on the wound to try and heal it. That's it, That's the premise. Enjoy lol.

Dante’s heart is still racing, even though it’s been hours. You’ve been asleep on his chest for a while now and even though you’re breathing and warm and alive, his head just won’t stop spinning. It had been his fault. He’d almost lost you because he was too fucking stupid to think about the consequences of his own actions. He was terrified, lost in his own thoughts with no idea how to go about not making the same mistake again.

He’d never liked involving you in his line of work, even though of course sometimes he didn’t have a choice. It’s not like he could always keep his lives separate. Dangerous creatures often decided to try and invade his home that he shared with you, though luckily they never seemed to attack while he was away. They would always wait for him to appear before they made their move, he was never sure why, but he was thankful for it. 

In general though, in a fight, you knew what to do. You would hang back, away from the battle, arming yourself with one of the numerous weapons that were stored underneath his desk, or under your desk, or behind some of the artwork. So when a bunch of low tier fucking assholes decided to disturb the peace today, it had all gone according to plan. To start with anyway. 

He’d been fighting them, dispatching the weak ones easily. They were never a match for him anyway, but especially not when he was showing off for his mate. It had been easy, he hadn’t been concerned, or worried at all, until a Chaos had sauntered its way into the office. 

Dante knew that they were fast, far faster than you as a plain old human would be able to handle. So he’d focused his attention on it, trusting you to dispatch any of the small fry if they managed to get close. He’d tried the usual strategy, shoot to stun, and then tear it limb from limb once those sharp spikes were no longer a factor. 

He’d never had to consider the enclosed space before though, while fighting something so fast, so high powered. He’d aimed properly, got it in his sights right in between the eyes. He’d waited until he’d thought the timing had been perfect, but even though he liked to think so, Dante wasn’t perfect. 

He hadn’t been able to anticipate the way that the creature had moved, the way that it had shifted slightly and thrown his marksmanship off. That the piece of shit would shift slightly, throw off his aim, that the thing would start rolling, moving its spines so fast that no bullet would have a hope of reaching it. He never expected the angle at which his bullet would ricochet off it’s shining carapace at full speed. Dante never fucking anticpated that any devil hell bent on destroying him would be smart enough to deflect his weapons straight into your god damn body. 

He’d watched it happen in slow motion, the bullet deflect and start to turn in your direction. He’d seen your eyes widen, but he’d not been fast enough to do anything. Dante had watched as you crumpled to the floor as his stray bullet hit you, he’d watched it part your flesh, and embed itself deep within your abdomen. 

Fuck, he’d been overtaken by an all consuming rage, he’d never felt anything like it before. It was like he wasn’t himself anymore, like his subconscious was moving without permission from his physical body. The entire world around him slowed down as he lost control. He wouldn’t have been able to recall exactly what he had done if you’d asked him, but every single damn devil in the building had been destroyed by his hand within an instant. 

The Chaos was the last to go down, the ultimate subject of his rage. He moved faster than it could react to, his claws ripping it to absolute shreds. It didn’t even get a chance to shriek before it hit the ground, dead, and his entire focus shifted to you.

Dante was by your side seconds after you’d taken his deflected bullet, surrounded by the shrieks of dying devils around him. He grabbed your body before you hit the ground, lying you down carefully onto your back. You had looked up at him, with shock and horror and fear in your eyes, before immediately pressing your hand to the blood pouring from your abdomen. He’d expected to see disgust, or hatred, because he was the one that did this to you, but instead, you’d just been terrified. 

He hadn’t known what to do, he’d just panicked, his entire mind wiped blank. You’d started speaking, throwing him out of the haze that had threatened to overwhelm all of his senses. “Bandage,” you’d said to him, snapping him out of his stupor. “Dante. Pressure on the wound.”

So he had torn the shirt he was wearing to pieces, the fabric didn’t matter in the slightest. He’d ripped the material from his front, wrapping it around his hand. He didn’t know how much pressure to use, how much pressure humans needed, so when he pressed the fabric against your slick abdomen, it didn’t seem to do anymore. 

“Harder,” you’d barked at him, and so he pressed down with the sort of pressure that might have bruised you on a normal day. He didn’t know what to do, he could feel your blood pouring out from the wound, even through the layer of fabric bound around his palm. 

You were surprisingly calm, or maybe you were just in shock. He didn’t know how being in shock felt, or what this much pain might actually feel like. He could be cut in half and recover from it a trace of a scar of course, do he had no frame of reference. “Is it bad?” you had asked him, and he hadn’t known how to reply. 

“Did it hit any organs? I can’t feel anything,” you’d asked him, and in the moment he had ignored the way that a small amount of blood had bubbled up from your throat to your lips while you’d spoken, but now that it’s all over, he can’t help but imagine the whole fucking thing in vivid detail.

He’d tried to think. He knows when his own organs are compromised, it’s a slightly different feeling, but as he’d looked down at you, he’d realised he doesn’t know how to map his own experiences to your body. You’re so much smaller than he is, and you have more organs in your abdomen than he does, don’t you? “I don’t know,” is what he finally manages to say, because he doesn’t know how else to respond. 

“Call an ambulance,” is what you’d said next, but as he’d looked around the shop, and at the carnage his own enraged demon had caused, he knew there was no way anyone would be able to get to you. 

“I can’t. Fuck. I can carry you. I can fly,” he’d said, panicked, desperate. He’d tried to move you, but you had screamed in pain, a sound that he’d never heard before, a sound that tore him in half all the way down to his soul. He’d immediately put you back down, but even then, your screaming hadn’t stopped. 

His entire hand had been wet, your blood welling up around his crappy shirt. He was going to lose you, because he didn’t fucking know human first aid, because he hadn’t fucking thought about his actions and shot a firearm in an enclosed space, against something that could easily deflect bullets at insane speeds. “What do I do?” he’d asked you desperately, but you hadn’t replied. You’d been in shock, and Dante doesn’t think he’ll ever forget how pale your face was. He’d started crying and he hadn’t even noticed. He hadn’t known what to do. 

“I don’t know how to stop the bleeding.” He’d been distraught. He knows the basics, but not how to save you. The pitiful fabric of his shirt had been dyed completely red, and he knows it’s not absorbing your blood anymore, there’s just too much of it. 

He’d pulled his hand away, just to get a look at your wound. It had been bad. The blood wasn’t stopping, and he could see your insides, his bullets are much more powerful than a normal calibre, even a ricochet. He’d willed himself to think as he’d felt your breathing start to slow, and felt your life starting to drift away. Fuck. He wasn’t going to let that happen. 

His brain for some reason, had decided to fixate on when you’re first gotten together. When he hadn’t been able to control himself, and he’d left bruises on your skin. He’d noticed the bruises, felt guilty about them, but then suddenly they’d started disappearing once the two of you had decided to become exclusive, and stopped using condoms, and started pulling out and spilling himself on your belly instead. He remembered the bruises returning though, once you’d confirmed that birth control would still work on his half devil spunk, and he stopped pulling out. 

It had been stupid, and a fucking long shot. But he hadn’t known what else to do, and your lips had been turning blue right in front of his eyes. He hadn’t know how the fuck he’d planned to manage it, but as he’d pressed down on your abdomen with slick fingers, he’d started struggling to undo his fly with the other. 

It had felt wrong, so fucking wrong, as he’d pulled out his cock. He hadn’t been hard, but there had been no other options. He’d started stroking himself, and of course nothing had happened, arousal had been the last damn thing that his panicked mind was expecting. 

He couldn’t keep looking at you, watching the life drain from your face. He’d shut his eyes, imagined you teasing and encouraging him. He’d imagined the way you would bite your lip and look up at him through your lashes while egging him on.  

It had started to work eventually, but he was so worried it wasn’t fast enough. His dick had started to rise and for the first time in his life, as a virile and overeager half devil, he’d wondered if he could ejaculate at half mast.

He’d pulled out all the fucking stops, because he hadn’t known what else to do. He’d pressed down on your wound with one hand, trying to block out the feeling of your heartbeat starting to slow while he stroked himself.

He’d twisted his hand on the tip of his dick, stroking loosely and then putting pressure on the base, before moving back up. Of course he knows how to get off, but it’s completely different under pressure. 

It had been a struggle, but the longer that he had kept his eyes closed and pretended, the easier that it had gotten. It had become easier to convince his penis that this wasn’t a life or death situation, that he was just casually jerking off and not using it as a last ditch attempt to save your life. 

He’d gotten there eventually, though all of his progress had almost been ruined when he had to lift his sticky palm from your flesh. The wet sound had broken his heart. He hated the way that he could hear your laboured breathing start to bubble up from your lungs when he released the pressure. 

He’d just hoped that this would fucking work. 

Dante had taken his dick in hand, lined himself up, and with a terribly reluctant moan, shot his seed all over your wound. He’d tried his best to hold back tears as he watched the white settle over the red staining your skin, watching with bated breath, wishing for anything to happen. 

He’d been able to see it right in front of his damn eyes, that his cum was slowly disappearing, sinking into your wound and reducing the amount of red. He’d watched as the bleeding had gradually stopped, and as your skin began to knit itself back together. 

He’d waited with baited breath, watching as every trace of what had just happened disappeared from your skin, within moments there wasn’t even a scar on your abdomen. The only evidence remaining being your blood staining your skin, and his hands and the floor, and the tears streaming down his face. 

He’d pulled you to his chest, begging for you to wake up, wiping his eyes on your hair. The office had been a disgrace, was still a disgrace. There was blood everywhere, sticky stains from where he’d ripped the damn devils apart, and of course your own life essence, staining the floorboards by his desk. 

Eventually you had stirred though, eyes disorientated and unfocused. You had been in no state to do anything for yourself, but he didn’t care. He’d carried you against his chest, washed the blood off of your now healed skin, and off his own and then gotten you into bed. 

You’d been exhausted and incoherent, immediately curling up against his chest and falling asleep, but his mind couldn’t stop racing. He’d been so fucking close to losing you and he hadn’t even known what to do to give you a fighting chance. 

His last ditch effort had been disgusting, even though it had worked, and he’s horrified with himself. Repulsed by the fact that he’d even considered it, but horrified by the fact that he’d actually been able to get off to you dying. It makes him reconsider everything. 

Dante knows that he won’t sleep at all tonight, but that’s okay. He had to watch over you, and make sure that you don’t stop breathing, that nothing else happens to you. He cries again, his face pressed to the pillow to try and muffle the sounds so that he doesn’t wake you. He vows that he’s going to be better, that he’s going to learn how to save your goddamn life next time, no matter what it takes, and that he’s not going to let anything like this happen again.

[ally-127]

my request... joshua angst where there's an argument on ur anniversary n you can decide whether to make it a happy or sad ending!! thx ally :-)

lisianthus

pairing: husband!joshua x reader word count: 1.6k warnings: reference to sex, slightly suggestive material music: ‘lose’ by niki a/n: okay like this is more fluff than angst,, im sorry- my mind literally blanked out when i was trying to think of what they could argue about. but enjoy this romantic af, poetic(?) piece that i also enjoyed writing ngl. thanks for requesting @chocosvt , i hope u liked it...luv u the most <3

“come on kiddos, it’s time for bed!”

you ushered your seven and three-year-old into their shared bedroom, your lips stretched wide into a grin at their playful giggles.

“goodnight, mum,” your daughter, seven, hummed as you tucked her into bed while your younger son climbed clumsily into his beside.

you dropped a kiss on her forehead and turned to your cheeky son, who still had that smile of his. you give him a huge smooch on the cheek. “goodnight, you.”

with both children wrapped up in their sheets comfortably, you flicked off the light switch and closed the door quietly behind you.

a sigh couldn’t help but escape your lips as you shuffled your way back into your room to finish up some work, but before you did, a certain glow caught your attention.

the kitchen was dark all around when you entered, lit scented candles dotted around the table and the only light source in the room.

the flames danced in the breezy air of your apartment, lighting up not only the bouquet of lisianthus on the table but your husband, joshua, who sat on one of the chairs, staring wistfully at the flowers. a glass of wine sat solitarily in front of him, the stain on the rim a sign that he had already started to drink without you.

the beat of your heart was now apparent as ounces of dread slowly settled into the pit of your stomach.

you forgot.

“are we not important anymore?” he began, taking the glass in between his fingers.

“what do you mean?” you remained standing, feeling as if the soles of your feet had been embedded into the hardwood of the floor.

“did it completely slip your mind, or am i now the least of your concerns?” continuous rhetorical questions, or rather, questions of accusations, escaped his beautiful mouth.

you could kiss it a thousand times and still, your need for them to be on your skin would never be satiated.

“jihyun and—“

“do not bring our kids into this,” joshua was painfully serene, like the calm before the storm; the storm in which you could see in the depths of his eyes. “you forgot we’ve been married for ten years.”

you cursed under your breath.

how did you forget?

bringing the subject of work into the argument was pointless now, it only seemed like an excuse.

“josh—“

“i was waiting all day,” he finally shifted his almond-shaped eyes to you. “for you to run into my arms, to kiss me, hell, even to just smile at me. but no, you didn’t even look at me once.”

joshua, on a break from being a performer, occupied himself with taking care of the children and the apartment. he had plenty of time on his hands, his heart full with a sincere wish to spend it with the people he loved most in the whole universe.

you, a full-time working mother, had recently just been promoted in your company. with new responsibility came heavy workload and a brand new project dumped into your control. it was overwhelming, and it blinded a tremendous amount of aspects in your life, including your husband himself.

you realised you didn’t even meet joshua’s eyes as he got them ready for school this morning, while he adjusted their jackets and shouldered their little backpacks to carry it for them, knowing fully what date it was.

you simply kissed your daughter and son goodbye before you took half a litre of coffee with you out the door without uttering a single word of goodbye to your lover.

now, as you stared at him from where you stood, you could feel the effects of neglecting him for the longest time hurling back to you like a tidal wave.

there was no trace of a smile, of the crinkle of his eyes, of the lines that would form at the ends of his eyes that deepened over time and with age.

the expression that stared back at you was foreign, stoic.

there‘s a saying: you don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

you knew it wasn’t gone, but the absence of his smile made your heart sink into the bottomless pit of your regret. it was a horrifying feeling.

suddenly, you wanted to do all the things he said you didn’t, smile at him, run into his arms, kiss him.

“i’m sorry,” you almost lost the capability of speaking, your voice small as you gathered enough courage to take more steps towards him. “i really am. i’m such a fool.”

he stood up, his height casting a dim shadow over you. the plastic of the wrapper crunched in his hands when he extended his arm, offering the bouquet of your favourite flowers in your favourite colour to you. joshua could never forget that.

you took them with shaky hands, eyes looking everywhere but into the abyss of his caramel eyes.

“you are not a fool, my love,” he engulfed you in his strong arms, a familiar place, a place you missed often and could call home. a place you almost forgot was your home. “you are my wife,” he kissed away the single tear of remorse that escaped the duct in the corner of your eyes. “my beautiful, strong wife.”

your head on his chest, your fingers fisted in the material of his shirt, you held on to each other for what seemed like the first time in a long time. his woody scent had the effect of waves crashing against the beach and echoes of seagulls in the distance—it calmed you immensely.

everything about joshua calmed you.

it felt like you could remain in his arms forevermore, until the morning sun rose and the lisianthus wilted in the grip of your hands.

“i love you,” you told him, quietly, setting the bouquet aside to sink into his touch.

these were the words he wanted and needed to hear the most, to reassure himself that you did still love him the way he loved you, to make sure that work had not completely overtaken your senses.

“i love you too.”

fingers rubbing your back in soothing strokes, joshua kissed your temple, then the tip of your nose. to reach your lips he had to angle his head in the slightest, long eyelashes fluttering as he reached his destination.

a hum of satisfaction escaped your lips, conjoined with his, knowing fully that you didn’t deserve it yet you savoured every minute. your arms were secure around his neck, not a millimetre of space to be seen between your torso and his.

as joshua pulled away to gasp for air, he reached into his pocket for his phone, tapping away at the screen. half a second later, music began to play from the speakers he had installed on the corners of the ceiling.

your husband enjoyed music, thrived in it. it was his natural element, his escape from everything and life itself.

“dance with me, darling,” he whispered as louis armstrong blew the first few notes of his trumpet, a light melody that entranced your step into aligning with your lover’s, barefoot in the kitchen, head on his shoulder.

“remember in college,” you pondered, reminiscing the iridescent days of your youth. “when we would dance around the communal kitchen in the refrigerator light?”

“when i snuck out of the dorms to visit you half-past two in the morning?” the smile on his face reminded you of how much you truly longed for it, like a breath of fresh air after being suffocated for so long.

he grinned at you like you were back in the heart of a bustling city, of seoul, the thrill of the unexpected running through your veins like a drug. you found an impossible love, forcing the rebellion, suppressed deep enough in yourself until you forgot about it, to resurface again as you met him.

you had never felt as daring as you did when you first saw him.

“we lost so much sleep,” the airy sound of your chuckle urged joshua to tug you closer, dancer feet still in time with the rhythm of jazz buzzing in the background.

“first college, then jihyun,” the way in which your daughter’s name left his lips made the knot in your heart twist, your entire being captivated by his voice.

he twirled you around, stars—no, the entire galaxy—sparkling in those brown eyes as you spun to meet him once more.

“and jiyoung,” the sound of your youngest son’s name elicited a permanent smile from your husband, perfect teeth peeking through.

“i don’t regret a single second of it,” he said, mellifluous in tone, filled with content.

“i don’t either,” sometimes, the possibility of being in love for so long was a question to you that you could not answer.

magic doesn’t exist, but it did then, in that night, surrounded by wicks, aglow in passion, organic scent of lemongrass wafting in the air.

jazz-driven steps, hungry gazes and the brush of his fingers under your sweater made you wonder if you were back in the era of your faded youth. it was as if you were reliving each night of delirium once again, of heated sex in the darkness of your compact bedroom, of muted grunts and the slapping of skin that reverberated off the chipped walls.

joshua lifted the sweater up your head, up your arms. the music, transitioning ever so timely from armstrong to the weeknd, your eyes widening and your hips swaying ever so slightly to the bass. his grin twisted into a smirk, eyes narrowing in desire and the previous storm behind them calming into a wave of dirty intentions.

“take the week off for me, love,” kisses were peppered down your neck to your collarbone as he whispered each word into your skin.

you promised him you would, and you did.

[yootaesowlwrites]

Thirty-Day Notice - Yoongi

A/n: A little something for Min Yoongi/Suga’s birthday, I didn’t have a lot of time to prepare something proper, but I managed to write a small something.

Warnings: None that I can think of as of right now, maybe fluff, tons of fluff.

W/C: 1.7K+

“What do you want for your birthday?” You ask as you sit down on the soft luxurious sofa, turning your body towards his while bending your knee to put on the couch, your foot hangs off the sofa, you placed your arm on the back of the sofa and placed your hand on your cheek, your eyes fall on Yoongi as he held a pen in his hand, a book resting in his lap and words were scribbled down on it. “It’s next week, is there anything specific that you want?” A faint smile begins forming on his lips, his teeth slightly on display.

“Time with you.” He says as he lays his head back against the sofa and turns his head to look at you, his eyes, that was the colour of the earth after the first spring rain and could turn a golden colour when the sun would hit them just perfect. “A day with little to no interruptions with you, that would be a really nice day.” You reach over with your free hand, stopping just before you could touch his cheek, hesitating for a second, he drops the pen in his hand on the book laying on his lap and reaches for your hand, he gently pushes your palm against his warm cheek, keeping his hand over yours, your eyes move from his eyes to your hands.

“Just that?” You ask as your eyes flicker back to his. “Just a little time with me?”

“A day.” He corrects her. “We haven’t been able to spend a day with each other one a while.” You nod your head, your thumb softly tracing over his cheek. “I’m not sure if I can turn my phone off for the entire day, I may have to step out for a couple of hours.” He uses his other hand to move the book away from his lap, he carefully pulls your hand away from his cheek before turning himself to sit sideways on the couch to face you, he places your hands on his knee. “But afterwards, I think we should just stay on the couch, or get back into bed, and watch a movie or a series, order something to eat.” You listen intently and started planning everything in your mind.

━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━

“Can you come over?” You ask in a whining tone, your phone was on the kitchen counter in your apartment while you were — as quietly as you could — unpacking the food you had ordered for Yoongi’s birthday, you hear him hum on the other side of the line, he was at the studio and had messaged you that he had just finished meeting with some producers, so you had called him to invite him over, it was his birthday, and usually you would be at his place, but you needed to do something at your place, and you wouldn’t have had enough time to get back to his with all the food you had ordered.

“Are you at your apartment?” He asks, you could hear a faint sigh as he spoke, he had told you multiple times to get rid of your apartment and move in with him, and each time he would mention it, you would tell him that you wanted to be sure about him, about your relationship with him, but the truth, you were scared he would regret his decision later once he saw all of your things in his apartment or penthouse, you weren’t sure what to call it, it was more likely a penthouse than an apartment. “I will be there in about…” He trails off, probably looking at the time on his phone or watch. “Twenty-five minutes.” You nod your head before you realized he couldn’t see you.

“Oh, right, twenty-five minutes is fine, I’ll see you then.” You say. “I have a surprise for you also.” It took you weeks to make the decision, as scared as you were to leave your apartment, pack everything up and move in with him, you would never know if it would be worth it unless you took that leap, you could hear the rapid beating of your heart loudly drum in your ears, you had given your thirty-day notice to the landlord just an hour ago.

“A surprise?” He asks, you could hear a door closing and assumed he just climbed into his car. “I told you not to get me anything, just being able to spend the rest of today with you will be enough.” You could hear some fumbling in the background. “I’ll see you in twenty-five minutes, I’m about to leave the building.”

“It will be a gift that you like.” You say. “I will see you when you get here, have a safe trip.” The phone call ends, and you lock your phone, and you begin setting the table, moving the food containers to the table, a knock on her door make your movements halt, it couldn’t have been Yoongi already, only ten minutes have passed, you walk to the door, and open it a little.

“Delivery.” The person says, you pull the door open and saw him holding the drinks you had ordered, you had almost forgotten you had ordered them, why did they take so long to arrive? Never mind, you wouldn’t worry about it right now, you take your wallet out and hand him the amount you needed to pay before taking the drinks.

“Thank you.” You say, they nod their heads before walking down the hallway to the elevator, you close the door and made your way back to the kitchen, placing his iced americano on the table near his plate and placing your drink near your plate, after that it didn’t take long for Yoongi to arrive, he greets you with a kiss as he steps into your apartment, shedding his jacket as he moves further inside.

“So, what was the surprise?” He asks as he turns to face you after putting the jacket down on the couch, you smile at him, feeling excitement bubbling up inside you along with nervousness. “It better be a good surprise.”

“You’re making it sound like I’ve given you horrible surprises in the past.” You say. “Firstly, Happy birthday, and secondly, I have food in the kitchen.” A smile on your lips, your hands were pushing into your jean pockets, hoping you could spare your news for after lunch.

“The surprise first.” He says, crushing your hope instantly, maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned the surprise in the first place and just dropped it on him after lunch.

“Okay… if you insist on that first.” You say while pulling your hands out from your pockets. “I uh…” You fear your throat as you felt a lump forming in it. “I gave in my thirty-day notice today.”

“Thirty-day notice?” He asks, you could see the knots in his eyes, the confusion written over his face. “Thirty-day notice… on your apartment?” You could see realisation hit him, his eyes widening with surprise and his lips parting. “Ar— Are you saying… ” He trails off, you nod your head, a smile grows on his lips. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.” You say while nodding your head, a smile forming on your lips, he moves towards you, gently grabbing the side of your face with both his hands. “If you still want me to move in with you.” He pulls you closer, his lips brush against yours, his pine cologne fills your lungs as it surrounds you, the faint taste of the snacks he had eaten at the studio still lingered on his lips.

“This is the best gift you could have given me today.” He says after pulling away, he lays his forehead against yours and stares into your eyes. “When did you decide?” His tone was just above a whisper, it was soft as he spoke, you brought your hands up to his that were still holding your face, placing them over his, feeling the warmth from them underneath your palms.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a few weeks now.” You say. “And I’ve decided that it’s time, time for me to take that leap and move in with you.” It almost appeared like his eyes started to sparkle when you said that, you could see the happiness in them. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” Your tone was playful as you said that.

“How dare you.” He says, you could hear the playfulness in his voice. “How dare you think for one second that I would ever change my mind about that?” He moves his forehead away from yours while releasing your face, he turns his hands to take hold of yours that was holding the back of his hands. “I’ll come and help you pack and rent a moving truck.”

“Are… are you sure?” You ask. “I mean, I have a lot of stuff, do you really want all of my things in your apartment?” He lets out a breathy chuckle, your fingers interlace with his before letting your arms fall down, hands still connected with each others. “It’s a lot of stuff.”

“I want everything of yours in my space.” He says. “It wouldn’t feel right if you just brought your clothes and personal items, I want each and every piece of you, except your furniture, in my place.” You couldn’t help but to giggle, you would have to sell your furniture, except your pillow, your pillow was your pillow and that was one thing you couldn’t do without, and Yoongi knew… you couldn’t sleep if it wasn’t your pillow, other pillows just didn’t feel right and gave you a headache. “My sofas are big enough and so is my bed, so, I don’t think your furniture will fit in as well.”

“I didn’t think so either.” You say. “But there is maybe a few pieces I want to keep.” He nods his head. “A few pieces that feel like home, minus my pillow, because you already know that I’m never going to get rid of that.” He couldn’t help but loudly laugh, he releases your hands and took a step back, not wanting to be too loud in your ear with his laughing.

“I know, I know.” He says. “You already told me that the pillow was part of the deal when you first slept over at my place.” The first time you were invited over to his place, or he invited you over for the night, you showed up with an overnight bag and your pillow tugged underneath your arm, a sheepish smile on your lips. “I remember it clearly.”

“Then I’m glad you know my and my pillow’s conditions.”

[moved-to-void-kissed]

To Stand Before the Void

Luna is desperate to rescue Adriana from the black hole that opened up on top of her, and finds her way to her girlfriend in the darkness of the Void. However, when she is faced with the chance to reach that which she has sought for so much of her life, she realises that her priorities have changed. (1590 words) Takes place during Episode 18 of Pokémon Reborn, replacing Luna’s normal dialogue at the end of the Void sequence. Content warning for themes of unreality and escaping from life, a spectral entity, and allusions to past events involving character deaths from earlier in the story. The ending is happy.

tag list: @dragonsmooch | @childrenofmeyneth | @beeon | @kissofthemoonrabbit | @tex-treasures | @kalliopi-ships | @catake | @tartaglialovemail | @strawberryshipz | @setzale | @vilehusband | @blackbirdcrime | @lilacslovers | @thatslikesometaldude (to be added to my tag list, please click here!)

I made it just in time for this to count as my piece for the fifth day of sapphic September! This follows the prompt of “realisation” given by @sapphicseptemberhub, and.. although it turned out slightly heavier than intended, I’m happy with how it turned out. I hope it’s alright to share with you all!

Reblogs of this post are appreciated, but by no means required; comments should also be enabled on the document, if anyone wants to leave any there! A transcript copied from the document is under the readmore:

“My love! My love, where are you?”

The cry of the princess echoed coldly across the space she now found herself in. The perfect darkness that Luna had stepped into now sprawled itself endlessly to reveal a vast chasm of nothingness, lit only by pinpricks of stars that did not seem to shine at all. A scattering of these lifeless stars had coalesced at her feet, providing somehow-solid ground to stand on, and she found them multiplying to support her steps as she ran forwards.

Ah, so she had found her way home again.

And yet, why did this place she called her home seem so unfriendly?

There was something missing - was it from her, or from this world?

At that moment, the dark dreamer did not care.

Luna kept running, ever graceful despite her panic, and the starlight swooped ahead of her to carve out a path. Thanking it for its assistance, she progressed to see what lay beyond, and her heart swelled when she sensed someone in the darkness before her. She kept going into nothing, and then the figure was visible, so regal in her dark purple- Oh. No, this was a striking purple jacket, worn by a tall boy in platform boots, whose one eye visible from under his dark purple hair widened happily at her approach.

“Luna!”

“Cain-” , she began, before the tired young Trainer rushed to hug her a little too tightly, “-why are you here?” 

“Ahaha, well, the black hole that Gardevoir made miiight have caught me up when it generated. I was so focused on getting Shelly out of the way that I didn’t see it expanding behind me.” It seemed that even such a grave situation as this was not enough to dull all of Cain’s enthusiasm, though the worn-out expression on his face belied his true amount of vigour. “..It didn’t keep going, did it?”

“No, do not worry - its size became stable, and the others are all free of it.” She had been far enough away when the crisis occurred to be confident in her words. Then, as had just happened to Cain, the fear crept back into her voice. “Where is Adriana?”

“I saw her just now, I thought you were her again, actually - at least, I’m pretty sure that was her. I.. kept seeing so many things, loads of people from this region and even some I didn’t know, but- everything just feels so twisted in here, it’s creeping me out. I’m pretty sure I’m talking to the real you, though, right?”

An amused little smile was brought out by this for a moment. “Yes,” she asserted, “I am always myself. Cain, do you see a path behind me?”

He tilted his head to look past her. “Yeah. Wow, it’s bright. Way moreso than the stuff I’ve been standing on!”

“Follow it”, said Luna, “and the darkness will bring you back to the others. I wish you well, my friend.”

He nodded and went on his way, though by the time his worries brought him to turn his head to check on Luna, she had already disappeared into the darkness once more.

==========

A part of her was of course relieved to have recovered her friend, but Cain was not the one Luna had sought, though the fact he had claimed to have met Adriana meant she had to have been close by. That fact brought her solace, and she could feel the darkness around her becoming less alien by the minute. It was starting to feel like home again, a place she could escape to for the rest of forever. 

To be alone in darkness, to escape the life that life had given her, that had always been her highest aspiration.

She just had to find Adriana, and then she could step off the pathway so kindly lit by the stars, and fall down into her Wonderland.

But the star path, and little Fantasia, didn’t want to let her go down that rabbit hole just yet.

“If two stars were to fall, passing each other like ships in the night, do you think they would wish upon each other?”

Right now, Luna’s wish was to fall.

It was then that her Wonderland finally, truly, appeared to her.

She seemed just as weary as Cain had looked, as the darkest parts of the things she had witnessed were even now still clouding her vision. The exhausted cries from the top of the volcano, the flower’s cascade down the waterfall, the broken-winged hawk she had managed to save, and the now-shattered amethyst she hadn’t; all the sights that the Void’s grip had thrown at her had worn away at her spirit. The starlight she nervously walked upon was flickering, afraid, though no less bright than Luna’s own - and those same stars were now scattered across her body in pale specks and freckle-like clusters. Something about her seemed missing, and replaced with something not quite settled in yet.

But there was no mistaking that smile.

“My love!”

It was Luna who leapt to embrace this time, filled wholly with warmth and relief at the touch of her partner. Adriana did the same, and the shadows trying to haunt her turned and ran, as the darkness around the pair settled comfortingly.

“You’re here..! It’s really you!” she said, with an echo of concern in her voice. “Are you alright? How did you reach me?”

Luna’s honey brown eyes glittered with tears of gratitude. “I am all too aware of how to navigate this darkness - it is a wonderful abyss of opportunity, and it has brought us together once more. In addition, I came across our friend Cain here, earlier on; as far as I am aware, he has managed to escape without trouble.”

“Oh, thank goodness - I’m so glad he made it out.” Adriana replied. “Come on now, let’s leave this place..”

As she spoke, the soul-touched Trainer moved to follow the path Luna had walked to reach her, only to find her partner standing firmly in place.

“..Luna?”

It was now tears of sorrow that welled up in Luna’s eyes.

“My love, I- I’m sorry, but.. I don’t think I can..”

“What?”

“This void, this endless expanse of darkness.. It is the one place where I will be safe, like all the monsters of which children fear. Do you remember that I said this to you before? The time has come for me to follow my own infinity, in the abyss that will draw out my greatest potential..” 

This was the only way for Luna’s story to end the way she wanted it to, the way she had always wanted it to.

Why did such routine thoughts now sound so uncertain when spoken aloud..?

“Luna-” Adriana’s words were cut short by her own crying, as the merest moment of surprise she had felt soon cascaded into despair - a far greater despair than Luna had ever envisioned. “Luna, that isn’t true! Please, I- I don’t know what I would do, if you weren’t here with me..” 

No, this wasn’t how she had thought the story would be told..

“Luna, you are not a monster! You are so, so loved, a-and- you are the person I care about most in the world. I mean that, with all that I am, and that will never change! Please, I can’t leave you behind again! It doesn’t have to be like this!”

That was all she could say before sheer panic closed her throat, and a desperation just as strong as the one that had brought Luna to rescue her in the first place clawed around Adriana’s crying figure. The wishes of the starlight joined in too, with their childish apprehension - a silent song resounded from around the pair, eerie and nervous and hopeful, crying out for help, crying for an answer.

Did she really have to follow the story she had written out for herself?

The tale that had never foreseen the impact of a loving, welcoming parent, or people she felt on good terms with - people who might even, perhaps, call her their friends - or the arrival of a romantic partner?

The long-held wish of that little dark dreamer, who now had grown up to find a new way of living out her fairytale?

No, she thought to herself. No, I won’t let it end here. Not anymore.

And so, as the Void closed in around them both, she decided to realise her future despite it.

==========

The next thing Luna knew, she was lying on a cold tiled floor, still locked in the unconscious embrace of her girlfriend. The area around her was a total mess of debris and broken machinery, and everything that had been in the middle of the room had disappeared. She felt different, now that she had experienced the Void in its full capacity - but part of that difference stemmed from her new resolution, and it filled her with a calm yet unwavering determination.

When she looked up, she saw the one who had rescued her; a foreboding silhouette of a figure in a hat and trenchcoat, ominously hovering with a scarlet aura surrounding him, whom everyone else - except the little girl with the Jirachi doll - was staring apprehensively at. He spoke slowly and cryptically before fading away, and though his eyes could not be seen, it was clear he was addressing both the dark dreamer and her soul-touched love.

“..Abyss is unrelenting..

..To you, joined with bonds of the soul..

..Inscribe in your lives a new chapter..

..For joy, shared, awaits at the goal..”